#what am i even saying u ask

[inkskinned]

the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[puppyeared]

Its really freeing when “gender is just a construct” really sinks in and you dont see yourself identifying with any pre-existing gender that the answer is “wait I can just make my own gender lol.” So. Hello everyone. Im pupgender now

[queenie-blackthorn]

sometimes i feel like i hate everyone

[oatbugs]

pls i need to provide updates

[roitaminnah]

series of ppkm messy things real quick before buttsoup 2 electric boogalo be upon us,,, i just think it would be neat. to see them date. however i will take whatever crumbs i can get <3

[skunkes]

need to find a way to let people know that I usually accept comms outside of what I usually offer, without it sounding like an invitation to ignore my pre established openings or without sounding like I Do Take Those Comms Now All The Time

[blamemma]

what you said about maxiel fanfics with endgame lest4ppen, yes, I agree. someone mentioned this before, but maxiel is slowly dying on ao3 while it seems to be thriving more and more on tumblr.

for me it's 50/50 because I don't mind where I'm reading, but here we have more one-shots and pieces of WIPs (which is good because it means authors don't feel the pressure to turn everything into a 50k story, so they can just post their ideas even if it's incomplete), but I personally LOVE longer stories, so I would love to read more and more about every single one of them.

and personally I just don't like lest4ppen at all. I understand the need to tag maxiel because daniel is the bad guy and the "shitty boyfriend" or whatever, but I just don't like seeing those stories 😬

will always preface asks like this by saying people can like what they like and find joy in whatever, i ain't gunna turn my nose up at anyone or anything, lestappen just doesn't make sense to meeee personally, but honestly whatever butters ur bread!!!

as someone who has dabbled here and there in this writing lark, for me there is a distinct difference in ao3 posting and tumblr posting....ao3 to me is formal, ur presenting something perfect, a fully-fledged story, a beginning a middle and an end (not in all cases but i just mean in general). most stuff i read on ao3 is fully-fledged nuanced ideas that the author has obviously spent hours of time crafting and experimenting with.

tumblr fic is inherently fun and blase and easier to throw out there into the ether and forget about really. tumblr fic doesn't need to follow grammatical rules or structure etc etc....it can just be a fun prompt game response or a quick lil fic that you had fun writing and wanna share with ur people?? both have purposes and both are enjoyable to write imo, just depends on what ur feeling and how much u want to expand on said idea??

when it comes to the maxiel of it all....idk how rude or pointed i can get here without getting into shit....so i'll try and word this gently....you have to keep the eco-system alive....i think comments and kudos are GREAT but honestly, if someone reblogs my fic with a fun few tags, i love that more, because in a selfish way, i might get 1 or 2 more readers from that because its going out to an even wider audience?? but its more than that!! engage with ur writers, message them on here and shout at them about their ideas, send them prompts, recommend their fic to ur friends...but i will stand by i think one of the best things you can do, if they make a fun lil post or graphic for their fic...reblog it...ur not only spreading the maxiel gospel, but ur also supporting that writer?? too many times on here i see people's fic graphics flop yet big blogs are leaving them comments on ao3 and look, EACH TO THEIR OWN and also i can sometimes be a bad reblogger dont get me wrong, but LIKE, there are some wildly talented authors on here who just need to be pushed into the limelight a little bit more??? idk if im wording this correctly, but sometimes there are fics that fall through the cracks because no one engages with them, and if ur an author who has put blood sweat and tears into that fic, ur not exactly going to be motivated to post another maxiel fic if u dont think ur going to get engagement from it (again, fic writing isn't necessarily about engagement or response, but let me tell u when i get a fun little comment or someone messages me about a fic i published, it inspires me to write more????)

maxiel is definitely alive and kicking, i follow some stunningly good maxiel authors, but at the same time, its about pushing forward those smaller writers as well and not thinking ur too cool for them???????????????

and so with that, this flufftober, kinktober, spooktober or whatever tober u are a part of, reblog the fic, talk about the fic and enjoy the fic

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[metanarrates]

@ anon: there is a real difference between "particular take I dislike makes me think more broadly about the treatment of motherhood in fandom and how it frequently ends up following misogynistic patterns, and so I make some posts about the fan culture around motherhood" and "going on a rant about how the op of that take is specifically a huge misogynist who I hate"

[saetoru]

although i dont appreciate the way karma tried to befriend you, her having to quit tumblr because of you being this drama driven rly isnt the vibe and its an ungoing theme of yours whenever you feel threatened, just saying…

girl i don’t have the time or energy for you people. i didn’t drive anyone off the app bc if you look at my blog, there has been no post before yesterdays ask that indicated anything about her to send her any anons. and before i posted the ask (which was threatening and harassing me btw) she’d already closed her inbox from anons harassing her. wtv anons were harassing her are not due to me bc idk this girl and quite frankly, i don’t care about some girl i hardly know exists 💀✋🏽 you know what i do care about tho ?? not getting asks sent to me that are obviously her. and not having asks answered ab me that are also obviously her sending them to herself. that’s weirdo behavior and yall will blame the person dragged into things unnecessarily before actually holding the person who started it accountable. if i wanted to send a whole army of ppl to bug her i would’ve said something a long time ago about the multiple anon asks that she’s been sending but i simply blocked and moved along bc i didn’t want to spark anything—and contrary to what most of you think, i don’t actually enjoy dogpiling a bunch of anons at a specific person. but i am also not a silent taker of weird ass anons in my inbox so when i receive an ask like “oh ur gonna be in trouble if ur jealous ass doesn’t watch it” i’m gonna set my boundaries. it’s ridiculous. one thing about me is i at least say everything with my whole chest on my own page, i don’t sneak around on anon on multiple pages because i have some self respect and i encourage you to develop some too bc speaking on something you have not the full story too is mainly embarrassing on your part

[simcardiac-arrested]

[of-solitude-past-and-present]

YOUR WRITING>>>>>

I don't know how you came up with Naga Scaramouche but I've been brain rotting for days now 😩

Do you have any ideas how'd he'd react if someone goes out of their way to look for reader after they disappeared?

Especially if they mightve been a love interest at some point or the person clearly has feelings for them 👀

(referring to this)

A friend of mine actually came up with the idea for naga scara!! Together, we fleshed out the plot. It wasn't originally a fic, though, it was just a rp that got me brainrotting afterwards. I couldn't stop thinking about the whole concept until I finished writing Hidden in the Sands. The fic literally wouldn't leave me alone unless I was working on it LMAO

I'm going to take this as an excuse to talk a bit about the behind the scenes here (you have NO idea how much I've wanted to infodump about this fic)–originally, the reader was actually my friend's interpretation of Lumine and Sanad was originally my Alhaitham. I also played the part of Kuni himself. It was a bit awkward, actually, because Alhaitham and Kuni had to talk to each other a little bit and it felt like I was talking to myself.

I've changed the personalities of the reader and Sanad greatly, as you might have already guessed, since Sanad behaves nothing like Alhaitham; Sanad's more like one of those "prime examples" that Alhaitham talks about when he says, "Book learning alone is not enough to cultivate intelligence." Sanad is, intentionally, a very flawed but still reasonably likeable character. I want to talk about him too. Oh boy, looking back on this I sure did talk a lot about an OC I don't think anyone genuinely cares about.

I wanted to make him come off as normal, like an actual human person. He really is just a regular dude, he's just been kinda brainwashed by the Akademiya, as shown by the lines, "The Akademiya has declared them to be just baseless nonsense, so of course I don't think they actually exist." and "Desert dwellers tend to be... fearless." He's absorbed many commonly held beliefs (and biases) in the Akademiya, a textbook example of someone who's been taught what to think rather than how to think. I wanted him to be realistic. However, he's still funny, charming, and overall good-willed, even if he's spineless and very easily led.

I've greatly changed the fic from the original rp, and only the base premise (yandere!naga!scara and the whole "commissioned to find the culprit for some strange murders in the Hadramaveth") remains the same. It went through several versions at first. In fact, before I came up with Sanad, I was going to have Cyno replace Alhaitham! But ultimately, I realized Cyno was actually competent and I might have had to write a proper fight scene, which I did not want to do. You can still see a remnant of the first draft I chose to leave in (from when Cyno was the disposable companion) in the bad joke Sanad tells at the beginning of the story.

Using Sanad also had other benefits that I feel helped pull the fic together!! His cowardly nature gave reader a chance to endear themselves to Kunikuzushi, for refusing to abandon Sanad even after he (frankly, understandably) ran away. Even this early on, I had decided that whatever backstory naga Kuni might have had, it absolutely had to revolve around betrayal since canon Kuni's backstory is so deeply tied to it.

It's a really minor pet peeve of mine, and it doesn't bother me too much, but I usually don't really like it when the yandere starts to fixate on the object of their obsession for no reason than, like, "love at first sight" or "they simply caught my eye for some vague reason I cannot put into words." It's not bad, per se, and it's not even a solid rule of mine! I can think of several fics I love that don't give a solid reason, though the characters in those have such a dynamic that you still understand why one became so interested in the other to begin with... (I'm making this more complicated than it is, I think, but I'm beginning to think it's just I just don't care for it when the MC has the depth of a piece of paper.) Anyway, I'm getting derailed again, but I chose to give Kuni a reason to empathize with the reader in the form of Sanad and his "betrayal" because of this preference of mine.

However, and I think I've touched on this a bit in a previous post, this wasn't the only reason Kuni decided to spare them. In fact, even after he decided to leave you for last, he still thought he was going to come back to kill you. What really interested him was your insistence on saving Sanad even after what Kuni perceived as a betrayal. Why would you try to help someone who didn't even make an attempt to help you? It doesn't make sense. You're too soft, it's endearing.

Whether or not Sanad's actions are justified is debatable, though I personally understand them. He's never fought in his whole life. If you, the experienced monster-fighting adventurer couldn't do it, how could he? He doesn't even have a sword. It's certainly cowardly and rude to say the least, but given the circumstances, I think it's the choice most people would make in that situation. Of course, it's absolutely something Kunikuzushi could have (and did) twist into something completely different. I think I made it pretty obvious, but contrary to what Kuni said, Sanad had no such malicious thoughts when he left you there. Kuni is extremely jaded; his perception of the world has been mostly shaped by the betrayals he's experienced, and he's no different in this AU. As I said before, Sanad's not a terrible person, just terribly average. If he had survived, he absolutely would have had survivors' guilt.

Anyway!!! I'm not sorry about the infodump, thank you for giving me the slightest reason to tell you all about it. Here's what you actually asked for.

Kuni views most people as inconsequential, little more than helpless ants. He doesn't care about them in the slightest. If anything, they irritate him. So when someone shows up–an old friend, a crush, anyone–his first thought is to get rid of them if they venture too far in, and especially if they see him. Even if he doesn't know that they know you. If he lets them go, more will come. If he finds out they're looking for you, specifically... well, it doesn't really change his plans. He's going to kill them no matter what.

It does motivate him though, to be a bit crueler, to make it last a bit longer. What they are to you doesn't change the outcome, but it might sour his mood a bit more if they were anything more than friends or family. It's not likely that he'll leave them be long enough to find this out, though. Logically speaking, they're probably not going to tell a monster like him all about the friend/family/crush they're looking for in this desert, especially not when he's clearly unfriendly.

It's not totally impossible, though. This hypothetical person would have heard all about the strange attacks (as mentioned in the fic), so seeing a large half-snake person could make them realize that Kuni was most likely the cause for your disappearance (even though they'd assume it was murder and not kidnapping). Even so, I doubt they'd have a little chat over tea about who all Kuni has murdered recently.

Anyway, I digress. Assuming he figures it out somehow, whether or not he tells you about them depends on his mood and your behavior. Unfortunately for you, dealing with people irritates him. Especially when they're specifically looking to take what's his from him.

He'll come back covered in blood either way, but if he's in a bad mood, or you haven't been on your best behavior, he'll tell you all about what they looked like. He makes sure to mention that they were looking for you, and describe in detail everything he did to them.

"I'm going to leave his corpse out to rot in the sun," he hissed into your ear, pulling away to look you in the eye, "for the vultures and serpents to feast on. It serves him right. He was on a fool's errand; it's impossible to retrieve what's lost to the sands."

[nyaskitten]

Nazi dumbfuck

You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look dumb. <333

[milflewis]

.

[traitorsinsalem]

bg3 is crazy for being a massive $70 larian + wotc collab game whose accessibility menu features subtitles that are present for less than half of all idle character dialogue and almost zero battle dialogue