Can’t remember if I sent this already (sorry if so!) and love your work!!
I was wondering about the dynamics of the Danny/Isla poly with a kind/shy MC, I mean I already love the dynamic of a charismatic MC and Isla teaming up to tease Danny, but I think I fell in love with the awkward flirting that was between a shy MC and Danny in the Museum?? Danny also surprised me by taking more initiative than I thought they would! Made me curious on what it’d be like with Isla thrown into the mix; will Danny and MC be in solidarity for once? Or how will Isla feel about having two people to tease while simultaneously dealing with two emotionally open and kind partners who fuss about them?
Thank you!!
I think it'd be a double-edged sword for Isla. On the one hand, they can get delightful reactions out of both of their partners with teasing and flirting, on the other hand, the sheer amount of genuine unconditional and earnest affection makes their hackles raise and sets off alarms (at least in the beginning) and, later, makes them squirm as they move past unlearning a lot of their defensive behavior.
Danny takes (awkward) initiative because they're an eager person just as much as they are shy! They're the type of person to throw themself into love and affection wantonly and so tend to reciprocate romantic intent pretty quickly. Having someone who is a lot like them in a relationship is heartening, almost naturally supportive, and would give them the courage to be themself--as that's something they worry about.
This is pretty much my first attempt at fanart, but I think it turned out well! Here's Isla blowing Danny a little kiss, and a second image with my cockatrice mc caught in the middle (and maybe about to faint!) I am so excited to befriend and romance these characters <3
Prompt: “And when I come back there better not be so much as a scratch on her body and a hair out of place.” w/Isla
To say that you don’t like the inspection visits would be an absolute understatement. Shockingly, being observed so closely makes you squirm, makes your soul shrink deeper inside your body, making it feel less like your home and more like your cage.
You don’t flourish under attention, you shy and balk and wilt under anyone’s gaze except for Isla’s. It was a process, learning not to flinch under their biting wit but as they started to show some of their softer sides you started to bloom under their gaze instead of furling up into a delicate little flower.
Some part of you scoffs at the analogy. You’re not something so fragile to be squashed as easily as a roadside flower, but under the collar of the inspector you lose any and all progress you’ve made from putting the Yard behind you. Putting those dark rooms and blinding examination tables back into the farthest recesses of your mind.
And then the inspector shows up and you’re right back there again.
The only balm is the fact that you can hide in Isla’s room afterwards.
You jerk when you hear shouting, looking up from your perch on the bed in the infirmary, waiting for the inspector.
You almost don’t go out to see what's going on until you recognize one of the voices as Isla’s, hopping off the bed and opening the door, you’re hit with the brunt of something you haven’t seen in them for months.
Pure unbridled fury.
“-not so much a scratch, or hair out of place-”
Isla stands between you and the inspector who is staring at the unicorn like they’ve grown a second head.
“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
“An obedient dog who listens to their master’s orders, that’s who.” Isla’s tail lashes as they speak and you can see how their fists shake where they’re clenched.
Leaving behind crescent moons dug deep into skin.
“Ordered around to terrorize and condemn. Do you even give a rat’s ass about your so-called ‘charges’, inspector? Or do you just want to have your go at your precious Yard’s little field experiment?”
“Isla-” You catch them in a breath of silence, stiffening and turning around to look at you in surprise, before their cheeks burn in embarrassment and they look away, grimacing.
“You didn’t need to hear all that.” Behind them is the inspector, rolling their eyes and making a hasty exit before the righteous fury can return.
But you’re just stunned, trying to compute your way to the result that is Isla vehemently defending you from the pestering and prying of yet another inspector.
“I just-” they shrug awkwardly, at a loss when they’re usually so quick on the fire, “didn’t want them to get their claws in you again, is all.” That last bit is muttered but you still hear it, still let it flutter something delicate in your chest and make you smile like you couldn’t control it.
Sweet. Impressed. Feeling things you told yourself you shouldn’t be feeling towards Isla to begin with.
“What?” Isla snaps, lashing their tail again and giving you all the tell-tale signs of annoyed embarrassment--the delicate pink to their cheeks, ears pulled back, ducking between glaring at you and looking away because they can’t look too long at your too sweet smile.
One that you offer them whole-heartedly, “Thank you”
Isla flinches and looks away, grimacing, “You...don’t have to mention it.”
“I’m serious Isla,” you press--you need to get this through to them, past the bluster and the need to push every ounce of sincerity away from themself like it’s toxic, “Thank you, for doing that for me. We’ll have to deal with them eventually but…” you trail off because you’re smiling too much at how Isla’s bravado has melted so entirely into what you imagine an agitated cat would look like.
Terribly adorable but miffed all the same.
“You can stop looking at me like that.”
Right, you probably should.
You duck, trying to school your features into something less pleased, feeling your own shyness start to bubble up again.
You almost feel like a noble in a tower protected only by your valiant unicorn. You get the feeling though that Isla would chafe at the comparison.
Why does Osla get so uncomfortable with a kind MC and also how do you improve your standing with them?
A number of reasons! Isla, when faced with a kind/generous/etc. mc there’s a couple of things going on.
1. mc being kind really nails home the fact that they’re an ass to the mc and it makes them uncomfortable when you don’t respond in kind bc, shocker, they feel bad (look at emotional scenes in front of the train station when the mc cries--Isla feels shitty for pushing the mc to that point)
2. Kind people make them suspicious/anxious for backstory reasons
3. Kind people don’t usually vibe with their sense of humor or morality.
4. They’re just plain uncomfortable when shown kindness, it makes them feel like they’re under a microscope (past trauma??? Noooo never heard of her) and has a lot of conflicting feelings about that personality type.
In regards to improving standing, I haven’t had a whole lot of options for improving friendship and that’s a feature that will be balanced more in the future. Right now I have no real idea what the stats look like at the end of a game so I need to spend a weekend to look through everything and work out the kinks :)
Prompt: “I don’t need anything more from you” IslaxDanny Poly w/basi!mc
Danny’s standing outside of view, leaning against the wall outside of the lamp light, a tray of tea heavy on his wings as he listens, head heavy against the plaster.
They’re arguing. He doesn’t want to say again, but it’s happened more than once and he knows--he has to believe that it’s not out of hate or anger, just fear.
Fear of being known. Of being loved. They’re two people that are rough around the edges and sometimes those edges catch but--but they smooth out eventually, right?
Surely.
They have to.
If… if they loved each other as much as he thinks they love him…
But it keeps happening.
It keeps happening, over and over again and he hates it. He hates it so much but what can he possibly do?
He can’t fix them. He doesn’t want to fix them because, yes, they’re broken, but he loves them, and it’s their job to heal but…
But it feels like some days they don’t want to.
So they fight.
“Why do you keep doing this?” He’s snarling, venom practically dripping down every word, “One moment you’re actually acting like a fucking partner and the next you’re pushing us both away!”
“Oh stop!” Isla spits right back, Danny wincing at the hate poured into their words, making the tea cups shudder on his tray.
But they don’t hear the delicate sound, too caught up in the turmoil of fury they’ve built like a wall between each other.
“You like to act all patient and concerning and decent but you’re always pushing for more aren’t you?” Isla insists, digging their teeth in deeper, “You’re greedy, always wanting more out of me when I don’t want to give it-”
“If you’d just tell me!” Danny sees the cast of shadows as his basilisk lover gesticulates widely, “If you’d just open up for gods damned once!”
“Is what I’ve given you not enough?!” Isla snaps.
I love you. Danny remembers the shared whispers shared in bed, shutting his eyes and clutching the tray to his chest, the cups rattling. They don’t hear.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“If you’ve given me anything, where is it?” He snaps right back, “Where’s the trust? The truth? You’re nothing but lies, Isla! I don’t need anything more from you since you won’t give me anything to start with!”
I loved you.
It’s quiet.
Isla sniffs, breathing out slowly, “Fine.” Danny can hear movement, the shuffle of fabric.
“Where are you going?”
“Out. Away from here.” Isla retorts and slams the catwalk door shut, away from you.
Silence again.
Lonely, unending, silence.
Danny jerks and looks up in surprise when a shadow overtakes him, straight into the wide-eyed look on his basilisk’s face, whose cheeks are glossy, his tears shining like stars in the dark.
But then his face closes off, and he walks by Danny without a comment, slipping through the back doors without a word.
The tea pot cracks when it hits the ground, the tea seeping into the carpet, mixing with the salt of Danny’s tears as he crumples to the ground in a heap of feathers and wracking sobs.
You can almost forget that you’re not here of your own volition, sitting in a picturesque cafe on the coast, the sea breeze cool and fluttering at the long ivory curtains of the outdoor dining area you’ve found yourself sequestered to.
You can almost forget that Nico and Fatima, sitting a couple tables away in the empty cafe and arguing over case documents, are you and Isla’s handlers. Isla, who is sitting across from you, and reading the latest penny novel that--you look at the cover--is apparently the fifth in an indefinite series of what they call ‘bodice rippers’.
And aimlessly snacking on the creme pastries put on ERA’s tab.
“Do you actually enjoy those books?” You muse, leaning heavily on your hand and half propped across the table.
It’s an ideal bit of rest here, but you’re also getting bored.
Isla finishes reading a section before looking up at you with a quirked brow, “No. I hate them for something awful and think my life isn’t filled with enough suffering as is. Hence-” they lift the book and shake it a little, biting into another creme puff and getting a line of the cream across their lip.
They lick it off, slow and so hilariously over-hammed it makes you laugh.
“I think you missed a spot. You’ve got a little something right about here.” You point to your own lip.
Isla pouts, “Did I? You’ll have to get it for me as I’m much too engrossed in my sordid reading at the moment.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be engrossed in something else?” You ponder, leaning over the table to cup Isla’s jaw and turn their head to face you. There’s no cream, but you make a show of delicately swiping across Isla’s upper lip anyway, leaning into your ruse.
“Do you have a suggestion then?” Isla’s breath puffs against your skin, you almost feel the press of their teeth against your fingerprint, a touch of a bite, before you pull your hand away, resisting the urge to shake off the zing of nerves shooting down your arm.
“I have a few suggestions, I think.” You hum, grabbing one of the pastries and taking a slow delicate bite, watching Isla as you purposefully leave a spot of cream on your lip.
Their eyes narrow, darkening, their smirk twisting into something absolutely sinful.
“What is it?” You ask after you swallow, batting your eyelashes innocently, “Do I have something on my lip?”
Isla smirks, “Only a little.”
“Could you get it for me, please?” You simper, leaning forward again on the table and arching your neck to offer your face for Isla’s inspection.
Isla snorts and rolls their eyes, “Are you truly so helpless?”
“Only around you, of course.”
“Of course”, they close their book and reach over to delicately swipe the cream from your lip, but before you can lick it from their finger, like you’d planned, they snatch their hand back and pop their finger into their mouth, moaning more than what’s needed for a vanilla cream.
“Delicious.” They say, “Could use more flavor I think though.”
“You think?”
Isla hums in agreement, and watches you dip your finger into the cream of an unbitten puff and swipe it across your own cheek.
“Oh dear,” you gasp, “How clumsy of me! Could you be a dear and help me out once more?”
Isla actually throws their head back and laughs, “You are truly helpless, absolutely beyond saving.”
“Absolutely.” You agree readily.
“Then allow me to offer you my aid once more.” Isla leans forward and you grin, waiting.
Only for Isla to throw their linen napkin in your face.
That’s how half the pastries wind up splattered against the cafe’s masonry and Nico apologizing profusely to the owner while you and Isla sat on a bench by the road giggling while Fatima helps you two clean up.
You look up at Isla once you’ve got the worst of the crumbs and cream from your clothes, seeing a dot of cream on the corner of their mouth.
“I think you’ve got something on your lip, there.” You point.
“No,” Fatima laughs, “We’re not starting that again.”
But Isla humors you, taking their thumb to wipe off the offending piece then swipe it with the pink of their tongue.
You watch, watch the wicked smirk, the delightful blush of their cheeks from such exertion, the narrowed heat from their eyes.
“Did I get it?”
“Let me help-” you begin, only for Fatima to interrupt again with a hysterical laugh.
“Yes! You did! Now both of you stop flirting and help me clean up.” She scolds good-naturedly and, sure, the rest of your afternoon is spent cleaning up your mess, but it’s also spent with Isla, so, no complaints.
And Isla’s face when they realize there’s cream on their book is worth it.
