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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

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Witcher of the Night (Chapter 18)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 17

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The Djinn effects had reasons. A miracle for the Witcher but a threat for everyone in the Continent and this mystery had you placed under a curse that will give you bad fortune for you future and a child that he sorceress plans on ruining.

Warnings: Mention of MCU. Iron man too. Blood. Witcher monster and sign. Curse words and degrading ones. Corporal punishment said and involved.

Words: 8.4k+

A/N: Ghost readers, please do reblog my fic if you’re reading this so others can see it as well. Also people who are in my taglist, I hope you leave even just an emoji of feedback or reblog if you’re done reading. I appreciate the tiniest dot of comment ISTG. I’ve been in a writer’s block (and also mentally exhausted from writing too) but I’m trying my best to give y’all content or an update for WOTN. My mind has been jumping from one character over another so feedback will be nice to receive. Thank you and stay safe.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors, this has been a result of fast editing.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

The Kaedwenians had the last laugh.

Jaskier couldn't keep you safe from anyone, not even a tiny fly. All he could do was be a distraction and be the special wingman for a witcher. But, when it's about protecting the ones he takes care of, Geralt has always been the answer to keep one safe---that he couldn't even take care of himself when he's caught in his shenanigans and monkey businesses.

His mutant friend could always be counted on, by hook or by crook.

Yet, he certainly will disappoint him when he knows what threat and problems happened after a day; only a darn day that he was away and kidnapping arose and hindered everything that the witcher wanted to avoid.

How did they know where his family even were?

Jaskier was limping alongside with Cirilla who has hauled him on her side, an arm slithering over his waist to drag him to where the dining chairs where. One out of ten? hence, this particular sunflower surrounded by a bunch of poison Ivy has been a bard all along.

Sunflowers don't have thorns nor poison. They were harmless. Soft. Bright. Just like him. But, the bees surely did its attack considering how he'd sliced two men on their necks. Nonetheless, it wasn't enough to keep you out of harm.

"Those bloody knights did a number on me!" he suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere; wincing and grumbling out profanities from his wounds as Cirilla went around to grab onto an empty pail, sprinting straight out to quickly come back with her bucket full of water for the bard.

Dried up blood designed his busted lip; plump and ruptured from the constant clouts he'd received. His lower lip were out in a pout, frowning his way from lightly tapping his wounds with a clean cloth; holding up a small mirror to his face. Disheveled doublet untied, the collar of his inner white tunic being a sketchpad of a kid who loved his red paint. Another nasty curse accidentally slipped out of his broken lip when Cirilla loudly dropped the bucket on the table with an obvious sight of panic, fright and anger written on her face.

Her thin, candle-like fingers slightly trembled from the handle and Jaskier had gotten a glimpse out of her fear, terrified for an important person in her life to be in the brink of death. Again. She didn't want it to happen especially when the princess has finally found comfort and light from you; like how her heart hoped to meet a woman who she could treat as her rightful mother.

She didn't want you to die; not like this, never. If only you could live long enough, longer than a normal human then it would be a part of her wishes.

"W-Will she be okay, Jaskier?"

Jaskier was hissing as he tried to take off his doublet. In his unfortunate case, he'd probably earned a fracture or two over his ribs and arm. But, it was far from any organ that will give him demise. He'd thought about it again before deliberating on leaving it on to continue patting the blood off his face, "No. I swear to the death of Valdomarx that the rat will not be fine in their hands, Princess Cirilla."

The bard went on in jawing away over his thoughts with some painful complaining here and there as he tried to wipe the blood off his face with a heavy amount of strength used because of how his arms were sore and aching, "Ow-ow-ow! Geralt needs to give what they want. However, going to the south swamps will be the only solution to alert the witcher,"

Jaskier tutted in exasperation when his dampened cloth grazed through the wound, making him sigh and close his eyes to calm down. The child has done the same, copying his reaction before reaching out to grab onto the cloth and tried cleaning his wounds for herself. He bellyached away over how she's been cleaning the wrong places but a simple sharp, warning of her blue eyes kept the toubadour fidgeting from the child care.

"It's been how many hours already since she was taken?" he sounded incoherent from trying to talk with his mouth never closing as Cirilla tried to pat over the pillows of his lips. She made him repeat his question, moving away from him to dip the cloth inside the bucket and squeezing the excess water out.

When she'd heard him repeat it much clearer this time, she thought for a second before turning her heel to face him again, raising a finger to show him the time it took.

"An hour or two."

He weakly nodded more to himself. The accident was utterly fresh inside their minds and Jaskier couldn't help but worry as the clock ticks by because he knew and understood that the people in their world were more cruel and grating to be with than in your kingdom that you have lived in for years, the bard was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down with his thoughts and solutions going in places.

"We can't go to where Geralt is tomorrow," he noted as a matter of fact, pausing to glare at Cirilla who leaned close and started caring for his wounds with heavy hands, "---all we can ever hope for is wait for the gods plan. Hush now, princess."

In Cirilla's point of view, hearing his response drove her bananas. They just couldn't wait for Geralt to arrive when he'll be taking up three days before telling him what has happened. What if you were already being punished because of their false accusations about you? Geralt's child of surprise has heard everything. Even from the time that the troopers has been kicking up a fuss over the woman named Savia that looked entirely like you.

She'd even saw the fight between Kolby; seeing him run away so suddenly broke her heart as much as yours did. Will he ever come back? the princess thought at the back of her mind from overrating. Will you ever come back to their lives again or will Geralt be too late to save you from their dirty hands?

The lion cub of Cintra has pulled away from treating Jaskier's wounds, straightening her back when she began to let the negative thoughts go to her head.

"How about Kolby? I---I've seen him run away!"

Jaskier grabbed the cloth out of her hands, trying to sanitize his wounds instead. He'd tightly blinked his eyes, the left side utterly benumbed from their sucker-punches and he knew a black eye would come forth soon whether he likes it or not. The bard wasn't even on an adventure with the witcher, yet why has there been an incident where he'd been belaboured till he was bleeding with a hobble.

"He'll come back, dearest Cirilla. We can only hope for the best and also for Geralt to do his witchering---the heightened senses, I mean. Do you think his hearing can reach from here?"

They've been surrounded by silence after that. It was already morning by the time that Cirilla has successfully helped the bard to his feet, earning minutes of pure inveighs against what they've done and why Geralt decided to leave earlier than they have arrived. Their house was left as it is and it seemed like the only job that they needed to do was hold you ransom for what they wanted from the witcher because they knew what was happening beyond the four corners of their house.

The Kaedwednians have acted like they knew you were important to their family; beneficial to be taken for hostage and a crucial person for Geralt that would make him cave in to their desires.

Hence, they probably were right when Jaskier and Cirilla has heard the fast, pitter-patters of a horse from a distance; riding towards the house in a canter. Geralt's family looked at each other with knowing faces before Cirilla's face fell from thinking about the pessimist side of her head.

"I--I hear galloping!" she exclaimed before Jaskier noted the pale look of her lips like she has been thrown a bucket of ice on her head, "---What if its them again?" her lips began to tremble this time with a high pitch tone that says she was nervous and scared because she wasn't ready yet.

"What if they're back to capture me this time?"

They have been living in a world that scares her and when the right time comes, Geralt promised to take her where she'll be trained better to become like him for when danger and chaos tries to make them stay, the princess will know how to defend herself from the risks and threats. But, the witcher would still protect her no matter what happens because it is his duty and also because she has already been an adopted daughter to him. A daughter that he cherishes despite acting cold and dispassionate about the idea.

You knew she was important to him, a daughter that he somehow cared for from the moment they met. Geralt has told you this in the middle of the night, trying to tell you stories as he slept, managing to ask him about Cirilla and how she was involved in his life. The witcher never did plan it along but their destiny has made it happen for them to meet. She was the girl in the woods that people have been telling him about and the law of surprise that he has given voice that had you in awe because their world consists of beliefs and preternatural principles that never existed on earth.

Jaskier felt like his whole body grow numb and forgotten what the pain that the cavaliers has inflicted upon him when he suddenly stood up, apprehensively grabbing onto Cirilla's shoulders and looking around to find her somewhere to hide.

The heavy set of footfall started to tread near, out of the threshold of their front entry. With a swollen face and bloody clothes, he grabbed onto her wrist and tried to pull her out of the kitchen and onto the back door of their house with a need to keep another person safe and away from danger. They've already taken you and Cirilla was out of bounds.

"No. No. That can't happen. They have no idea who you are. Run in the woods. Away from here, alright? Don't worry, I'll get to find you---Geralt will find you again, I promise you---has he taught you little tricks here and there? If not---"

The loud crash of a door opening has got Jaskier in full-protective mode; pulling along Cirilla to stand behind him with a hand outstretched open in front of him to tell this person to stop from their attacks. Until they've seen a person whom they were praying to the gods appear before them utterly shambolic to their shock.

"Geralt?! Oh dear, gods! What happened?!" Jaskier yelled out loud, their breaths hitching from the picture that stood before them.

Geralt's ruined armor was off; keeping the black under tunic on that has been torn with holes. The openings held blood under the apertures of his ravaged shirt. His face seeming to be the only one left untouched from the burns and wounds. His hair was dirty from soot and darkened, moist like sand but his breeches has been surprisingly free from the scratches that his upper clothing has received from.

Cirilla couldn't help but feel the warm, hazy moisture of her eyes fill her vision from seeing him stand in the middle of their hatch, the fish bones that stuck inside her chest finally breaking free from Geralt's appearance because hope has arrived for them.

"Geralt! You're here!"

The latter couldn't believe his eyes. They were safe. His family was safe from the show that the Kaedwenians tried to scurry them off with.

Relief washed through Geralt, his Aureate peepers widened from being stunned at seeing them both.

"Jaskier. Cirilla. You're both okay." he stated in a monotone manner, his gaze examining their forms when he'd realized Jaskier has been beaten to pulp.

The hold on his sword that rested on his palms tightened from seeing red. If there was blood involved, then something bad has happened especially when he'd lately realized that his family was missing one special person that came with the ménage he had.

You. There was no midget. Were you just hiding in a corner? Trying to be playful like the person you are? Where you hiding upstairs and planning to surprise him?

Jaskier paid heed to his sudden silence, the peeved look within his eyes that held a flicker of catastrophe because he couldn't see his midget with them.

He didn't know nor realize that seeing you gone like you never existed felt like an Nightwraith has tried to rip his heart open and eat it to their satiation.

Cirilla sprinted to where Geralt stood, immediately wrapping her arms around her step-father that she also holds dearly till the moment; she'd hug him, the embrace simply an allegation of fear, telling him that it was the right thing to come back earlier than they expected him to.

"I'm so glad you're here!"

The witcher wholeheartedly accepted the embrace, patting her head that was shoved to his chest despite of the wounds he has; just thoroughly relieved that she wasn't taken. His sword fell on the side with a loud thud as he'd look away from Jaskier, his eyes shifting from high and low, finding the Hirikka not in his place under the dining table as well.

"The midget? where is she?"

Howbeit, knowing the answer. He still wanted to hear what happened from the poor bard.

Jaskier subtly coughed, alerting that his tale was ready to be told. But, Cirilla has cut him off with her voice bawling out to Geralt, frowning against his chest as she loudly sniffed. The tears in her eyes dripping down as she couldn't help but keep the emotions balled up inside her chest anymore. Shock. Fear. Worry. Care. All together, it was brought and made with tears.

"Th-they've...they've taken her away from us! She saved my life for the second time, Geralt! You owe her everything!"

Geralt didn't answer at that and just patted her braided hair to soothe her worries---her braided hair that you have fixed before being taken. He was already too maddened on the inside to even hear that Jaskier began to start his story.

"So, do you want a simplified version or the dramatic one? I hear you choose the second option, so here it is!"

Cirilla sobbed against his chest when Jaskier started. His thoughts was filled with you. He was angry, irritated and dumbfounded that you've been offering your life in exchange for Cirilla to be safe. You always did. Hence, he didn't know if he was thankful of your selflessness or utterly vexed from how kind you were at heart.

"Fuck." he whispered to himself, Jaskier's voice going on and on in the background as if it was their music, his next words sounding exasperated as he simply sighed out of his nose and closed his eyes in frustration.

"---Midget..."

Jaskier was unaware that Geralt wasn't listening to his nonsense blabbers until he got straight to the point. He'd even told him how he rearranged and hid the bowls where you couldn't find it which made the witcher give him a simple raise of his brow.

Cirilla cut the hug when she was feeling dandy enough. Geralt gave her one final reassuring and affectionate pat on the head before grabbing on his fallen sword with a scowl on his face as he listened to Jaskier run his mouth.

"---So, I've been punched in the gut from different kind of Cavaliers. The Kingdom of Kaedwen can suck my arse---I've learned that from the rat by the way---and I've bled to the end of my second life. Hence now, this is my third---Hallelujah!---Kolby listens and follows every command but he's gone now and we don't know where he is---even tried to save me and her but the vampire is too strong---not that it isn't surprising,"

The simple action of grabbing onto his sword inflicted pain onto the fairly large wound on his lower rib which made him hiss. It was from the burning blood of the Bloedzuiger that he somehow managed to not shield himself with; forgetting to use Quen in the midst of battling.

"Tybalt." he understood completely, knowing exactly who tried and planned to get you from him for their use. They still haven't found the witch and needed to find her as soon as possible. Geralt wandered over the kitchen, closing the door behind him as he lowly grumbled to no one in particular.

"---They still want me to lift the curse. They want me to kill their monster,"

Their ears perk from the admission; watching the witcher peel his damaged under tunic off with an aggravated sigh as he stood in front of the dining table. He'd taken a lot more injuries than he most likely does; even had his energy spike to its lowest due to wanting to get the job done in less than half an hour. Hence, this resulted in accepting more wounds and detriments by rushing the whole task.

Geralt has already taken potions for him to heal on the way. Some of the smallest wounds has been healed. Though, the deepest wounds did not yet. It would certainly earn him a scar or two from it but he never cared.

"You're bleeding, Geralt. Where are you going?" Jaskier sauntered to his side with a wince from seeing more blood than what he normally sees, Cirilla also pulled a face and watched the witcher heavily sigh from examining his opened wounds. He deeply had a grimace on his face as he does when he tried to explain.

"It's from the Bloedzuiger's blood," he gruffly muttered, only answering the troubadour's first question.

His talkative friend circled around him to be met with the nastiest laceration that he has seen. Jaskier's nose scrunched in repugnance from what stood before him for the first time in years, "You've never taken enough damage like this before," he claimed as a matter of fact; in deep conjecture as to why he seemed to be in adrift prior to his hunt.

Geralt's attention was solely on the gash that could make him lowly groan in the back of his throat; rough and sounding uncomfortable from the pain it was giving.

"Jaskier, stay with Cirilla. Keep hidden and never go out until I come back with the midget," he gruffly started when the princess has rushed upstairs to find gauze to help with his lesions.

The Weccan leaned over the table, his palms on either side; flat on their wooden dining table with his ruffled hair framing his features and his head bowed down as he deeply pondered, his worries all about you because they've kept you ensnared. They knew he would come for you. They knew they will be expecting a witcher to welcome and they were right.

"---we can't leave the midget within their reach. They'll know her existence---Ingrith of Helmfirth already knows her existence,"

The bard's eyebrows were knitted tightly together in confusion for what he has heard, stammering from all the questions inside his head that kept on bothering him. He leaned on the table beside Geralt, bright blue eyes inquisitive and confused, "What? how---how did you even know she was gone? I thought you didn't know the sorceress?"

"The Djinn placed the midget and I in a spell where I can feel what she feels and I knew she was in danger,"

Jaskier gave a hesitant nod, deliberating over what he's trying to figure out from all the phenomenon that he has encountered, "Like some curse?"

Geralt shot his head up to nonchalantly give him a glimpse of his convinced golden peepers, pursing his lips, looking away to stand straight and lean away from the table.

"If you put it that way, we can call it a curse then."

The white wolf left Jaskier in the kitchen and drifted towards the stairs, making him trail behind; walking with a phrase of protests over the half naked witcher taking his flight.

"We need to treat those wounds before you step foot in the castle, Geralt."

There was no need to beat behind the bushes in Geralt's protective instincts. Specifically when you were in a risk to be hurt by their filthy hands. He took the staircases with his heavy footfall, roughly reassuring the bard from his worries.

"Already did. I'll be fine, bard."

Once they've reached the second floors, all wounded and bloody; both Geralt and Jaskier, they stood in the middle of the wooden hallways. Eye to eye as they were having a serious talk. Their voices echoing all over the place, "She saved Cirilla's life for the second time around," Geralt huffed and gave one seething sigh when the pain on his lower rib was burning. He certainly needed them to gauze his wounds before leaving.

"---even helped you forget about that knight you were fond with. I need to save her,"

Jaskier's mouth fell open from his bluntness, believing that you have been used as a person to forget his previous ones. He'd wiggled those slim shoulders of his, hands on his hips and keeping his head held high. A fake cough left his lips, thinking of ways to get back from being attacked figuratively by Geralt for a lot of times already.

"I won't let another slip away again, Jaskier."

Jaskier raised a knowing brow, sharing a bloody compact with the witcher as they stood against each other dripping with their own wounds and blood; an understanding that they both could only comprehend and would silently agree to, "I understood Durriken now," he gave a firm nod, convincing himself for his sentences.

Geralt squinted his eyes back at the bard, judging him from the back of his head and reading between his lines.

Jaskier talked to Durriken when they've left the other day. He tried to know what they've talked about because the bard was full aware of how the switch has turned inside Geralt's peculiar, introverted mind from that moment in the marketplace.

Durriken knew before everything could even happen---perks of being a fortune teller, believing that you had a reason why you've arrived.

Jaskier raised a finger to his front, a sassy brow raised as he firmly claimed, "She's the witcher's destiny. The reason she's here is because..." pause. "---of you, Geralt."

Julian just couldn't keep still and watch everything unfold. He knew Geralt and what ticks him, understood the simplest gestures that had a whole lot of meaning behind it. Jaskier can't help but pry around when it involved the white wolf.

This was why he was the bard who stood by his side because he tried to understand him for who and what he was. A person who truly cared, a friend who truly accepted him; though, most of the times, he was there to annoy the shite out of him.

"And that's why she needs to be saved. I can't let her die, Bard." Geralt honestly spoke, the truth being said rather than staying silent like how he would usually do.

The bard has given him a satisfied smile, his beam widening once he jested, "Oooooooh! I've waited for this moment to come so I can finally say it after decades---In other words," he playfully bantered, finding the right words to get back for receiving his bluntness, "---you love her, Witcher. Don't you?"

Cirilla held the ripped, long, white clothing to her chest. The door to her room slightly opened as she tried to listen onto what they were arguing about, they weren't. The word 'love' peaking her attention when Jaskier lightly tried to poke on Geralt's honesty, irking him to the bones and hoping to get something out of his sudden uprightness.

Lo and behold, as soon as the witcher opened his pretty mouth, they were left disappointed from a hum that he'd habitually does everyday when he wanted to stay silent.

"Hmm."

Retrieving no answer from such an important, scandalous question that would be a fact once it was positively answer; a simple 'yes' would've been evidence that the white haired witcher was actually capable to experience a certain feeling that would make him more human than he can ever be.

All you could see was darkness. No visions nor imagery of where you were going as an empty sack has been forcefully placed around your head. Tybalt has kept you immobilized within his arms that surrounded you. The sack was needed so there was no risk of escaping which can happen if you knew your ways just like their previous capture who happened to be a thief that knew the directions of the kingdom.

The sack was tightened around your neck, making you choke once they roughly shoved your shoulders to move as you were curtly placed down by the vampire. Pavement. Rock pavement. You silently thought as you felt rough hands grip your arms so tight. On either side, they were controlling you and assuming who they were; you knew it was cavaliers.

The gates seem to open as you've heard the loud screeching of a sound. A couple of harsh tugs; here and there. Some offending remarks you've received when you tried to thrash against their holds. They were calling you 'the witcher's whore' or his tramp that made you frown behind the empty sack of potatoes used for your head.

Footfalls can be heard all around you. They were everywhere and all heavy, marching as if they have a purpose as to why they were there. There was no idea as to where they tried to confine you; in a large cage? a building where all their prisoners are there in jail? or were you in a castle? their palace?

The men on either side of you dragged you strengthfully towards where they wanted; making you bark back despite of being temporarily blind for their purpose.

"I know how to walk, okay?! Stop dragging me around like I'm your rag doll!"

Tybalt loudly scoffed from behind, walking through the stoned hallway that directed straight towards the hoosegow where an Elven has been kept for a month, "Prisoners shan't be complaining, ye' know?"

A loud thump and squeaking of a door made you hastily look around in panic; thinking that you might be thrown in a huge fireplace so your body can be burnt to dust because they knew your existence here didn't actually existed and if you do get to be cremated, nobody would even care.

Will Geralt try and save you for the third time?

From the day that you have been taken and cared for in their home, it was already an act of protection. He didn't think twice to adopt and let you have a part of their house; saving you from an Alghoul who was hunting you down and planning to make you its meal. But, Geralt killed it for you.

The white wolf has even killed men for you to feel sympathy for. When Geralt of Rivia protects one person, he would surely not think twice but to put an end towards their life; as long as they were evil or hurting another.

He was one of a kind and the affection you have for him needed label. You were understanding everything now; the care and worry you feel whenever he goes for his hunt, how the sting feels inside your heart whenever he tends to become a lot more quieter rather than usual, thinking that he was avoiding you because he'd realize how much of a burden you are in his life.

Also considering the feeling of happiness whenever he sweetly touches you, feeling his skin on yours like it was destined for sensations to occur. Sensations that only he can transpire out the the earth's perimeters.

You comprehended it very patently. It was love that you had for him. You hoped it was because lust or infatuation never has given the effects like what you've been interpreting from the witcher.

No secrets can't be revealed as long as it was true especially with undisclosed matters. Hence, you planned to tell Geralt as soon as you get to see him again.

That is, if your future around the Kaedwenians won't involve you and death rolled together as one.

Their tight grip has made your arms sore. You were flailing your arms away from their grasp and the violent reaction that they have gotten from resulted in you being pushed to the ground, creating your healing gash with another deep wound that made you yelp. They've quickly yanked the sack off your head; all unkempt from being cramped, hurriedly keeping you inside the slammer as they marched away to lock up the thick, metal railings like you've committed such a harsh crime.

You've held onto your scrapped knee, seeing blood on the pads of your finger and it made you aggressively scream from where you've laid hunched over the cold stones beneath you; igniting the tiny, surprised jump from the knights who were guarding your cell.

The tight coil on the top of your stomach was starting to move; meaning to say, another panic-attack was starting to give rise because of how uncomfortable and eerie does it felt to be in jail from the past era. It was more ominous and uncanny rather than what jail looked like in the modern period.

You were heaving breaths, turning around and staying flat on your bottom to see the armored men squinting their eyes back like you were some weird creature, the notion of being Geralt's lover sickening their bones as if they were much of a better man than he is. They weren't. Geralt was better than them---soul-wise. Their gauging eyes made you giggle aloud in a sarcastic tone.

"I can't believe you are all actually humans---"

The lock of the door jiggled, people behind the entrance loudly pushing it open; in which Tybalt and a lady with glowing purple eyes emerged from the hatch.

"My lady," Tybalt started with a sultry tone dripping on his tongue, subtly nodding his head off to where you were hunched over.

This woman in front of you didn't look entirely human after all, you mentally thought. Glowing purple eyes; with her shoulders rolled back with a head held up high, such stance that made her look powerful. It was enough to make you cower.

She was a beauty even. Utterly bewitching from a woman's perspective. A high bridged nose, glassy dark skinned complexion that came with a pouty lip. The grotesque woman was enchanting in the eyes of men if her physical aspects could make you dumbfounded.

"Incredible." the latter spoke in fascination, taking heedful steps close amongst the lines of metal hinges. The luminescence of a torch has caught her purple eyes, glowing against the light as if magic was flowing through her veins; utterly strange because no normal human had eyes like hers, nor have you seen one in Geralt's dimension up until today.

"Another...you," she continued, her eyes cast upon you when she took heed of your familiar face.

"---It's true. There has always been another dimension,"

You've looked around, avoiding her discretionary gaze, a gaze that held corruption or malign beneath the colorful hue of her beautiful colored irises. They were winsome; however, her allurement came with a thorn that would surely make you bleed when touched.

"I'm..I'm not---"

Straightforwardly, she pointed out with a silent and warning tut, "There is no use of lying, little one. You are talking to a sorceress,"

As that has been mentioned, you couldn't help but snap your head and turn to look at her. Your eyebrows knitted together with eyes scrutinizing her features. Was she the sorceress that Geralt has been in love with? you questioned mutely to your alter ego. Ingrith was hasty enough to know that judging look in your eyes because of how your witcher has been involved with sorceresses after sorceresses or mutant and mystical beings.

He was known for it and based on how you were judging her, your mind was also well aware of how infamous he had been with women.

Geralt of Rivia was given a lot to choose. Yet, he has chosen a powerless, vulnerable, less of a beaut than what he would've picked and Ingrith wanted to laugh for his choices---what he planned to be destined with a dangerous life ahead.

"You're the Yennefer one?"

"How do you know her, thief?"

An obvious shake of your head was given; shaking the worry away from seeing Geralt's long lost love working in a castle and also for the queen and king. That wasn't just the reason why you didn't want to see Yennefer anymore, another justification as to why you didn't want to was because of the bigger chances that you would be going home in one way or another when the white wolf wanted to because there was no proof or evidence that he wouldn't send you home. Sure, he has said several times already that you were his home---however, what if his feelings changes especially that his relationship with the sorceress has been ruined from a certain fight you didn't know about?

Did Geralt feel the same way about you? Was it love or merely just infatuation?

"Nevermind. You're not her." pause. "---also, why are you calling me a thief, lady?!"

Your eyebrows knotted closer than ever from her assumptions. It wasn't just Tybalt or his goons calling you a thief, even the sorceress too. Ingrith pulled away from the bars, dusting her gloved hands from the dust that was transferred to her leather mittens like the people sitting behind closed bars were infectious. She'd given Tybalt a look, her face indistinct of what she wanted to feel for seeing the real you.

She ignored your yapping as she asked the vampire beside her, "Are you sure she's destined with the witcher as a lover?"

Tybalt gave her a small nod, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you give him a glare back, "Yes, my lady. Last time I stabbed the little woman, the witcher was all feral, ye' know? It was quite fun to watch, nevertheless. This whore seems to be very important for him,"

"He'll be coming then."

Your knotted eyebrows suddenly went up your hairline at that. She sounded too enthusiastic for Geralt to come by; her voice masking a mixture of anticipation for seeing him and also hoping for something else when he arrives. It was a tone that only women could understand in their own language and you couldn't help but go livid.

She wanted something from your witcher and it doesn't look nor does it feel right because you could sense your eye twitch.

"Hey, sorceress of doom. I'm not a child. My womanhood is fully developed if you wanna know because you sound like you're insulting my height---thank you very much because that wasn't a first---Also, you sound like you want to fuck my witcher!---My witcher!" you bluntly stated, the tip of your tongue feeling vile and bitter from the truthfulness of your words. Jealousy being the root of it all and probably intimidation over this sorceress.

She wasn't that Yennefer yet. What if it was her already?

"---Find your own witcher! He's coming to save me, not give you a rumpy pumpy while you are all keeping me in prison!"

Ingrith could feel her temples have gotten flicked from that. Your attitude was making her blood boil---a know-it-all in a world you hardly knew about. She was beginning to come to a realization that your mouth needed barricade, it needed to know where you stood because apparently, she was having the upper hand and you were munching on her toe figuratively.

"Are you sure about that?" Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact; her lips curling into a sinister grin and this is what gets her going, "---you sound like you don't know your witcher too well, child."

"---You haven't heard the truest tales of him then. Your witcher loves to bed women in all brothels---Witchers leave all the time because that's what they do. They travel anywhere to hunt monsters,"

Your mouth was ready to throw curses after curses. A few steps close toward the bars made her grin wider to see your tough facade falter in the tiniest, seeing it from behind those confused eyes of yours. A mixture of fighting for what you had with a self destructing insecurity that makes you overthink of the future despite not talking it through with your mutant of a lover.

Ingrith didn't back down to that fight you have been mentally trying to assault as she was wiser to knowing your existence had a count down with them around.

She only needed to know where the portal was; options would be a sorceress back in your world which transported you to the continent. Second is a physical egress that has been never found nor discovered by anyone yet. From your kingdom to theirs. It wouldn't just be a theory because when the conjunction of spheres started, all hell broke lose in the continent. So, the idea wasn't completely a hypothesis that didn't hold zero percent chances of it.

All Ingrith needed was evidence and she will surely get the answers out of you even if she'll be using corporal punishments---even to the point of drawing blood until you say words she wanted to hear.

The sorceress began to wind you up a lot more, finding amusement from the reactions and tiny twitches of your face which tells how upset you are as she ran her mouth with endless gibes, "---your beloved Witcher can't be satisfied with one woman in all his life especially with a human like you because one ages slower over the other."

She crouched before you behind bars, gritting her teeth together like a feral hound trying to mark up his or her prey.

"You don't have magic. You aren't mutated and you die like normal men," Ingrith seethed, her eyes piercing and full of hatred towards you.

---Or maybe from mankind itself. You tried to understand where she was coming from or what she was taking a stand to. The sorceress in front of you thinks of herself as if she is higher than most human alive and probably a power-hungry feline where she would take revenge on whoever has hurt her.

It was that, or she just thinks she's above all because of the power and magic that she has been lucky to have.

"They have no capacity for emotion because of the combination of their hard training, genetic modifications, and seclusion from society. I suppose love is important and heartfelt in your world, correct?" the sorceress articulated with a scorn, "---Not to Witchers, my dear. I doubt he would love you as you expect him to. You'll only be the woman who tried to substitute over Yennefer of Vengerberg's position,"

You've given her a petulant expression and a moue that could make plants wither from the hate of seeing the sorceress. She couldn't help but send a ridicule as Ingrith also feels the same, "You are not special. The Witcher needs a person who does not give him more weight on his back---he needs a strong, independent woman who can save herself from being locked inside a cage and not screaming help for him,"

Ingrith of Helmfirth brought to a stand, her eyes throwing daggers over your kneeling form. You were easy to intimidate and certainly effortless to scare away just by the height differences. She simply chuckled when all you've ever done was give her a purse of your lips and a death stare that has probably killed her inside your head for a lot of times already; yet, you were helpless, inundated and incapable of doing such from a mortal.

She knew it; sensed that you held no magic.

"I didn't need you attacking me this way," you quipped with a shake of your head, sighing from the tiring conversation that was taking a toll on you no matter how unaffected you try to appear. But, you were futile to their world and even to a government that was quite unfamiliar to you, authorities that didn't care about the welfare and lives of people.

Sitting back on your derriere with your legs in a criss-cross position, you've held your guard down and went on with the flow. Suddenly, on the midst of prompting down in a comfortable position, you've heard the metal door swinging open and saw the sorceress holding up a hand to you like she had some repulsor; thinking she was Iron Man from how she pointed her palm at your face.

Your face was warped in irritation and ambiguity. You knew what she was doing; her magic is what it is. With a slap of her hand away from your face, barks of remarks has been said out in the open, "What? you need a high five after insulting me like that? even had to pry over what relationship I have with Geralt?---or are you Iron Man dressed as a lady? am I in the MCU?"

The vicious sorceress had a nonplussed look on her face, analyzing what was wrong with the spell she tried to cast upon you, but it seems like her runes has been blocked by someone or something she couldn't understand. Ingrith knelt before you and quickly grabbed onto your throat, her fingers roughly wresting along the line of your jaw as she made you look into her eyes.

None. You had no magic; really knew no witchcraft.

"You should be fainting right now," she lowly mumbled to herself, her gaze intently examining your face while you spat out dry cough from being choked alive, gagging in the process of being pounced on.

"Excuse---E-Excuse me, I'm not. You---You suck! You're not a real sorceress then!"

Until such time, she'd realize the light, chain of metal attached to your neck. Ingrith has straightaway pulled the collar of your sweater down until it has been slightly ripped off. You yelped and resisted to comply from her wishes. However, she'd slapped you hard enough on the same spot as Tybalt did which has made you cease from shrieking as the ache in your jaw started to double up more than ever.

They were literally treating you like a doll that they could hurt or ignite pain and you want nothing more than to see Geralt and lull you to sleep, being taken care of by your own witcher as he tells stories about his adventures with Jaskier or Cirilla, appreciating the difference of being in his family's arms and the people whom they've warned you about.

They have been right all along.

Ingrith pulled the collar down until she'd seen such Cicatrix engraved in between the valley of your chest; the medallion of the Witcher and his school, you were destined to be with him and to create a progeny---his progeny in this world you were in. The lesion now looked like a birthmark, turning darker against your skin and it was enough to presume that the process has finally began.

Along came with an ornament; specifically, the fae necklace that had enchantments to rebound ill-fate has turned from coral green to black like her incantations have been reversed.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed in the middle of the slammer, the Elven who was in the same stockade you were in has given her a look from her loud guffaws, "---you're under a curse---the Warp of the souls. Who'd curse you?"

The sorceress urgently demanded, her fingers tugging your arm as she pulled you closer to her face; seeing the beauty you once saw turn monstrous over the hate that was controlling her to live.

You shook your head, eyes all wide from the frustration, anger and hopelessness being confined inside a dungeon, "I don't know! I haven't met any mages except for you, bitch!"

Ingrith pushed you off to the side, making you stumble on your back flat that has made you groan.

"You're being protected," she stood up on her feet and dusted off her hands straight to your face; all feral with barred teeth, you've given her the stink eye and a nasty scowl, wanting to spit of her foot for her malign, "---Did the witcher find you a Djinn and planned to throw you off back to where you came from?"

"I'm not fucking answering you!" you loudly yelled, voice echoing inside the stoned slammer.

"It is a yes, then."

The sorceress turned away at that, paving her way to the entrance of your spectral, cold cage. She stepped out of the hatch with a lour and most likely with such ire, the curse being a stronger fuel to the fire as she scanned you from head to foot, her gaze lingering longer on your stomach.

Her glowing purple eyes that was quite difficult to decipher when she'd step out of the cage has made you hold a hand on your belly. Why was she staring at you in a way as if she was planning something? did she wanted to eat your intestines?

"---It's that...kind of wish, Tybalt."

Her right hand man has been silent all through out your conversation with the sorceress. The vampire kept his mouth shut, listening to what information they could earn from Ingrith's interrogation. He immediately understood what she meant about 'that kind of wish,' and it was confusing him because of the Witcher's inability to conceive such children.

Tybalt was thinking that your existence never had any reason as to why you've stumbled across the continent. Unless, you've been brought by destiny to produce and make miracles for Geralt's life?

The sorceress leaned closer, her mouth near to his ear as she quietly spoke; not risking for you to hear, "Starve her. Leave her alone with the Elf until The Witcher arrives---or better yet, cudgel her until she speaks answers." she huffed a breath, full of detest over what powerful being was protecting you from her---your curse making her loathe you even more as you were fertile enough to give Geralt an offspring. He shouldn't have been given that luck because he was destined to be completely barren. But, here you were being a complete wonder as to why the curse was a success.

Ingrith hated the concept of an offspring especially that she was also an infertile woman and she couldn't risk the likelihood of a child and its genesis of being a successful heir of a djinn's given malediction; a byproduct of the spirit's potentials in one human to be protected by a witcher.

It could be a threat to her and you were certainly a hazard that she needed to control.

The sorceress speedily left the cell with Tybalt following suit. Her palms itching to go berserk over being futile to your existence, "---She must not produce an heir with the witcher," she sauntered through the path with raging blood. The higher vampire swiftly tugging onto her wrist with his agility.

"But, witchers are infertile, my lady. I doubt they may produce a child,"

"She's made a wish. She has never been infertile from the start nor is she mutated. This thief does not possess such magic but she can give the witcher a child as long as she's protected by the Djinn. The Djinn would give their heir his own magic to create madness in this world which is why she's under a curse. Their child will hold power that no one can ever understand with the help of it,"

"---To make sure of it, we shan't walk around bushes. Spells or maybe poison shall do the trick. We don't need another damned prodigy in this world!"

Tybalt has given her a look, puffing out his frustrations for how she was a foot farther away from the future. The sorceress and her intentions was thoroughly getting out of hand from the moment the prince has been cursed for years. They were present when the curse for the prince has started; more so, Ingrith lasted longer than him in the castle from the moment he was seized by her when she was younger and he respected her for it, even thankful for abducting her when he was a vagrant.

"Ingrith, this is beyond the plan," he spoke through gritted teeth; tightly clutching onto her arm. She raise a brow back at him with a sarcastic reply.

"Do you want the witcher to have a child who may possess black magic then?" Tybalt shut his mouth at that, listening to her reasons and opinion about the whole tragedy that was about to happen in the future, "---you don't even know who that child with Ashen hair is. She can't be his child---he's protecting her from someone---even the thief because she is having his child,"

Ingrith forcefully yanked his hold away from her arm, giving him a sharp look of warning as she continued her gaslighting, "I remembered saving you when you were down and dirty, covered in grime in the caves because you have been abandoned as a higher vampire from your guild,"

The higher vampire's features turned adamantine; features withdrawn and never believing what words he was receiving as it felt like she was making him feel the indeptedness for taking him in.

Ingrith couldn't help but give him a mordant smile of her lips, tilting her head back at him as they stood in front of each other; eye to eye as they both had the same height. She'd seen and read the look within his eyes, conceding to her request of assenting over what side she was trying to fight as her own opinions is what matters and has always been right.

"You're strong, Tybalt. Stronger than the witcher. His sword is no match for you. You're smarter, agile and inevitable. Though, you have a weakness and I suggest you fight that vulnerability of yours---that foolish sympathy for humanity because pity for others isn't what this world needs,"

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex, @britty443, @suhke3, @shadowclawstudio88

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547 @henrythickcavill @kaatelyyynn

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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July 30: Tired!!

FUCK EVERYTHING tumblr just ate TWO posts in a row. In the second one, I was just talking about how I wanted to cry about losing the first one so as you can imagine, even though neither of them had anything of worth in them, I am now just about ready to fucking lose it.

Anyway. Whatever. I’m tired. It’s late. I didn’t get enough sleep last night, took a long nap after work, now it’s late again, and I have nothing I need to do this weekend but write, and I want to write, but I’m also scared of it. THE USUAL. I don’t know if writing successfully Monday helped or hurt honestly. It didn’t translate into a renewed habit, so now I just have this ideal hanging over my head: you wrote one good scene and enjoyed doing it—will you ever repeat this occurrence, or are you going to be a failure again??

All I want is to use Troped to force myself to just fucking do it, just write, just see, there’s nothing to lose, just a deadline to reach. It worked on Monday! Who knows, maybe it’ll work this weekend too. I just feel like I’ve had so few good experiences over the last year plus, and given how bad I feel right now, tired and like I need a long shower and with a sorta stomachache and really angry/upset about losing my earlier drafts of this bellyaching nonsense, it’s basically impossible to be optimistic at all.

Which means I just need to get to sleep!!!

Today was actually not as bad as I was expecting. I was dead fucking tired and it didn’t ease up even with time and caffeine but somewhere in the afternoon everyone kinda just decided they weren’t working anymore lol (benefits of not being remote….), or at least, I did. And others indulged me. I had a couple long conversations. And my coworker’s wife and kid came by, which apparently happens most Fridays but somehow I haven’t caught on to that pattern, and he (the son) is absolutely adorable. And she’s fun, and it’s always… interesting to observe them as a family because they seem like they shouldn’t work and yet they work really well. People have been doing unexpected things recently and yet it seems to be working out in unusual and roundabout ways…

The conversations were nice. I did get done most of what I wanted to do. I don’t really have regrets, in that sense.

I’m just tired. Still. Really, really tired. Tired like I don’t know how to feel better. But it definitely has to start with stretching out and then getting some sleep.

#the year 2021 #2021: rl #wrote this draft in word so it wouldn't disappear on me #one step forward two steps back with tumblr too

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thenexusofsouls · 3 years

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🗣: Historically, the internet has never been too kind to OCs. What's one thing you wish people realized about OCs?- Steve Rogers anon

{i am the caretaker of souls} Something I wish people realized about OCs is the often personal emotional attachment that a writer has with them. Not only are writers creating something from nothing - a person or creature with a life, a history, a purpose, hopes and dreams - but there's often a personal inspiration for doing so. People make OCs to help them through difficulties in their own lives, because a movie or book or something inspired them to be creative, because a situation or event or concept moved them to be creative, or because they just had something inside them that they felt passionate enough about to create a fictional life and put it out there on the interwebs.

And then... people say it's not good enough. It's stupid. It's bullshit. It's a waste of time to interact with. I can't tell you how hurtful that is as a creator of OCs myself, and how angry it makes me when I hear from other OC creators that they've been made to feel badly for their creation. I'd like to see half the people bellyaching about how much OCs suck on this site create literally anything original. Seriously. It's a lot of work, and it's a very personal process. No one should have their personal creative baby shot down before he/she/it even has a chance.

I think that's why I'm very OC friendly and I take the time to read bios, ask questions, and interact with headcanon memes and things like that with other writers... because I want to encourage them, just as I wish I had been or could be encouraged with my own OCs. I've introduced easily about eight or nine OCs on Tumblr over the years and right now none of them are what I would call active. I'm clinging to Jix, but let's be real, he really doesn't have any activity right now. Strychthia has gone quiet, as has Aryx. Channe and Aurelien never really stood a chance. Lacryma, Cara, Caitriona, and Lylia have already been deleted. So believe me... I understand the pain and frustration of being so excited about creating a character and having few people care. Is that gonna stop me? No. Should you let it stop you? Hell no. =)

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redvoid-40 · 4 years

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In the woods there grew a tree - part 6 / AN

Hi guys! Here’s a new chapter and with it comes a little announcement: I’m going to stop posting this fic here on tumblr. So, from now on, new chapters will only be found on my AO3 account. (here is the link for the fic)

Sorry about that, but it seems there’s only a handful of people reading the fic here, and it’s much easier to update chapters on AO3.

I hope you all understand and that I get to see you on Ao3 as well! :)

Kisses, RedVoid

Previous chapter

For all the differences between human and troll physiology, Angor Rot had always met all of Charo’s needs as a baby and then as a child. But, and that was a secret only he knew, he had help.

When he first brought the baby to his village, Angor Rot did not know what to feed her. The first day with Charo had been torture for the troll, as he listened to the baby cry in hunger with no idea what to give her. When night fell, he began wandering the woods with her, trying to offer berries, tree-sap and even tiny pieces of meat of a bird he had shot down, but the baby refused every time as her loud cries echoed in the dark woods and into his heart.

Suddenly, a goat bleated, a high, ear-grating sound that for one blissful second nullified Charo’s anguish. Curious, Angor Rot followed the sound to find a female goat standing alone in the middle of the woods, on the same spot from where he had taken Charo. The goat had a rope tied loosely around her neck that, keeping her bound to a nearby tree, and besides the animal, Angor found a metal pot with a wooden cup and spoon inside.

The troll frowned, adjusting the crying baby in his arms. He remembered that once, a long time ago, he had miscalculated the time during one of his patrols and ended up stuck hidden in the shade of a couple of trees just outside a farm, waiting for the sun to set. That day, Angor had watched the human family that lived there go around their day with something close to fascination in his eyes, and one thing he had watched them do was milk a goat such as this.

Animals are nursed with milk, Angor mused, staring down at the hungry baby in his arms.

Without a second thought, the troll untied the goat from the tree and took her back to the village.

---

After that day, Angor Rot returned to that very spot every night in a row. At the end of the next moon cycle, on the first day of the new moon, he found out how the goat had come to be in his woods.

It’s her.

Hidden in the shadows, Angor Rot watched a woman run into his woods; and it was not just any woman, but the very one who had abandoned Charo: her mother. And much like the first time Angor had seen her, the woman carried an oil-lamp in one hand, and a basket in the other. She walked to the very tree to which she had tied the goat and looked around, as if hoping to see something or someone. When nothing happened she let out a deep sigh and lowered the basket to the grass before walking out of the woods.

Once Angor Rot was certain the woman would not return, he approached the basket. There he found blankets, baby clothes, and two large jars, one filled with smashed vegetables and another with smashed fruits.

And much like he had done with the goat, Angor took the basket back to the village.

---

Every first day of the new moon, without mistake, Charo’s mother would leave gifts for her.

The Troll Leader had done the possible and impossible to learn how to care for and feed a human child without having to resort to her mother’s silent help. Observing other animals, he figured out what types of fruits, leaves and mushrooms a human could eat, and he learned how to cook game meat and bone-marrow stews, all to make sure his little Charo was well-fed and healthy.

However, there were things in the gifts her mother left in the woods that were too far from what Angor Rot knew and consumed as a troll for him to provide for Charo. Bread, cakes, cheese, fruit preserves, farm vegetables - fresh and pickled -, grains, oats… all things Angor could not find in the woods, and that Charo greatly enjoyed. Besides food, the woman also provided a book on medicinal herbs which Angor had referred to whenever Charo as much as sneezed, and clothes and shoes that, somehow, always were a perfect fit for the growing child.

Angor Rot watched the woman leave the gifts on every new moon, but he had never approached or told Charo about her. He could say it was because he hated the woman who had abandoned his Charo to die in the woods, or because he didn’t trust her and thought it was a trap to find his people. But there was also a deeper truth to his hesitance: he was scared. Scared that Charo and her mother would want to meet one another, scared that Charo would choose her mother over him and leave.

But now, despite his anger, distrust and fear, Angor Rot would have to confront his daughter’s mother, because Charo would need to leave regardless of his feelings on the matter and for that, he needed the woman’s help.

---

It was the first day of the second new moon of Spring. Angor Rot had spent the entire day visibly agitated, and it had only got worse now that it was night-time and he found himself hidden on top of a tree, standing watch over the place where Charo’s mother usually left her offerings. Part of him wished she wouldn’t show up, wished the woman would at last forget Charo ever existed. If she did, then Angor would have no other choice but to protect her from the Gumm-Gumms himself, keeping her close to him for decades to come.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Angor was ashamed of himself. How could he even entertain putting his selfish wants over Charo’s needs? No matter how lonely he’d become once she was far from him; as long as she was safe and happy he could deal with anything that was thrown his way. And maybe, when Gunmar was a thing of the past, his little girl would come back to him, this time forever.

With that thread-bare comfort in mind, Angor Rot laid the back of his head against the tree bark behind him, watching the foliage billow in the wind. A sudden gust flew through him, chilling Angor to his core. It was cold and strong, as if Winter was trying to rake in a couple last breaths out of its season.

It’s time for both of us to let go, Angor thought sadly, yellow eyes moving back to the ground, where a weak light shone through the trees. The human woman had just crossed into his line of sight, carrying a large basket on her back with what Angor Rot assumed were clothes for the coming season. As always, she stood by her tree, palm rubbing gently against the rough bark as she watched the shadows with longing in her eyes. Angor had watched that scene many times before, but this was the first time he noticed the woman’s eyes; they were sad and lonely, a mirror of his own.

In that moment, Angor felt an inexplicable closeness to the woman, as if they were the same.

Chest tight, the troll jumped down from his tree, making just enough noise to alert the human he was there. The woman jumped in fright and fell on her behind before him as her eyes raked up his stone form, noticing every crack and root before at last settling in his glowing eyes.

“It’s you…” She let out, voice a strained whisper of pain and wonder. “You’re the troll from that night. The one who saved my baby.” She scrambled to her feet and latched herself on him, fragile hands closing around his much larger one with a strength he didn’t expect. “Please, tell me of her! Is she safe? Is she healthy? Is she… happy?”

“She’s not your baby,” Angor spoke, but regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth at the heartbroken look on the human’s face. Much more softly, he added. “But she’s healthy and happy.”

Tears in her eyes, the woman smiled as her hold around his hand fell. “Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have said that. I know don’t have the right, but… would you tell me more of her? Please, my lord, I beg of you.”

Angor sighed and retrieved the basket she left on the floor. Looking inside he noticed he was right: there were a couple of lighter tunics and pants for the Spring, and a pair of sturdy but airier leather boots that would do nicely in replacing the heavy pair she wore on Winter. Lately, Charo was growing so fast she was going through her clothes and shoes at an alarming rate.

“I never thanked you for your gifts,” Angor spoke, the words weird on his mouth. “They’ve come in handy multiple times. The medical book especially.”

“W-Why? Is she a sickly child?” The woman asked, despair back in her voice. “I feared she could have a frail health. My mother has never dealt well with harsh Winters and-”

“Like I said, she’s healthy,” Angor cut in, not unkindly. “She’s had a few ‘sniffles’ and ‘bellyaches’ but she always recovered quickly. It’s been longer than a year since she last fell down with something. Still, it was heart wrenching whenever she felt unwell and the book helped ease her pains.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” the woman said, smiling once more. “Thank you for caring for her, my lord.”

“Don’t… Don’t call me that. I’m not your cruel, human leader,” the troll said, scowling at the ground. “My name is Angor Rot.”

“Of course, I’m deeply sorry,” the woman spoke and then, surprising him to no end, she bowed her head and performed a courtesy. “My name is Emma. I’m forever in your debt for taking care of my- I mean, of Charo.”

After fifteen years, Angor Rot at last had a name for the face of Charo’s mother. It tore at the wall of resentment and distrust he had built between them, and made him see her more as her own person than just another fleshbag. Made him wonder if, when she had abandoned Charo in his woods, she had been faced with the same dilemma that stood before him right now.

“Emma,” Angor called her name, noticing that it didn’t taste bitter in his tongue. “I’m sure you must be wondering why I showed myself to you tonight. Must know there’s a reason more than just putting a name to a face.”

Emma looked at anywhere but him, and Angor was taken aback at how much she resembled Charo in that moment. The more he looked, the more he could see his daughter’s face in the woman’s.

“I must admit the thought crossed my mind,” Emma said, raising her large eyes back to his. “Is there something wrong with Charo?”

Angor nodded sadly. “How much time can you spare?”

“I can’t stay gone the whole night. If my husband finds out I’m here…” Emma’s voice trailed off, but the fear in her was almost tangible. It added to Angor’s suspicions that abandoning Charo had not been her idea. “But I have a little time to spare. He thinks I’m playing cards with my mother and his.”

“I will walk you to the edge of the forest as I explain the situation then,” Angor settled, settling the basket on his back.

“Thank you, my lo- I mean, Angor. Angor Rot,” Emma said with another curtesy. “You’re most kind.”

Angor frowned at the human’s weird formalities and turned around to begin their march. “You asked me of Charo’s wellbeing, and I answered she is happy and healthy...”

“Yes?”

“But she might not be safe.”

---

As quickly and concisely as he could, Angor Rot explained the situation to Emma. From the threat that her human lord and Gunmar represented to them, to Charo’s ever-growing physical strength and his own lack of knowledge to teach her magic properly, to help her become more.

“I don’t understand, Angor Rot,” Emma spoke as they broke the woods’ treeline. In the distance they could see a few lamps-lit windows in the village and castle. “What can I possibly do to help? The reason…” Her voice caught in her throat as she lowered her eyes to her feet. “The reason I had to leave Charo was her magic. Her father-”

“I’m her father!” Angor snarled, causing Emma to jump back in fright. She dropped to her knees, sobbing her apologies, and the scene made the troll’s stone heart tighten inside his chest. Slowly, he kneeled by her and laid a comforting hand on her bowed head. “It’s alright, Emma. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”

The woman raised her gaze back to him. Her eyes were already red and filled with tears, and from this close Angor saw a green-ish shadow on her left cheekbone. He thought it was a strange place to bruise and wondered how she had fallen and hit her face. Then he realised that, unlike Charo’s frequently scraped knees and elbows, that bruise didn’t come from falling on the ground.

“The human lord is cruel to his own kin, it seems,” Angor Rot spoke, gently helping Emma back on his feet. “I can see now. Leaving Charo with me was not cowardice, it was bravery. You are a brave human, Emma.”

Emma’s eyes shone in wonder, as if that was the first time someone had ever complimented her. “You really are kind, Angor Rot,” She whispered as she dried her tears on the back of her hands. “I’m so happy you were there that night. If my husband ever found out… If he ever put his hands on Charo...”

“He won’t,” Angor promised. “I will never allow him the chance.”

Emma nodded as she gazed back at the village. “I won’t either. Even if it costs me my life,” She said, and when she looked back at him, her teary eyes had hardened. “Tell me, Angor Rot. What can I do for Charo?”

The troll sighed as he looked to the dark horizon.

“Overseas, there is a kingdom called Camelot. There lives a Wizard named Merlin...”

#angor rot #wizards #trollhunters #toa #tales of arcadia #fanfic #an #now it's only on AO3 guys #tumblr will be reserved for headcanons and asks #thank you for understanding

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fortes-fortuna-iogurtum · 2 years

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‘tis thunderstorming quite nicely here today and i deeply wish i could just stay home and dig into the nice thick volume of english mystery stories i got from the library last week while comfortably snuggled into my reading chair by the window. but alas, i must go to work to earn money to pay for my college education 😔

#this desire to stay at home today is not helped by the fact that I had to deal with a very rude and hateful customer #RIGHT after arriving at work on Saturday #some people expect to come into the only crafts store in town on a Saturday afternoon #in the midst of some of the biggest sales of the season #and Not have to stand in line to get their fabric cut by the only two people working that department that day :/#my managers sided with me (mostly. and not in front of her. but they told me I was ok and it wasn’t my fault later on)#but she was very nasty to them and my coworker as well #it is it very hard to bless those that curse you in that sort of situation :/#annnnyywaayyyy #enough bellyaching on tumblr #off to work and to make the best of it #mobile #gurt says stuff

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buttercupsfrocks · 4 years

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What’s on my dressing table? (aka Look at my stuff! Part 1).

Yo, tumblr. It mightn’t surprise you to learn that I’m quite keen on interior design. For some months I’ve been trying to realise some equity on my flat so I can get some work done on it. Starting with some urgent re-pointing of the outside walls. Obviously, not yet being in possession of the requisite funds isn’t the only fly in the ointment just now, but I’m allowing myself to dream about the improvements I’d like to make anyway. To this end I’ve started buying home decor magazines again, but find myself increasingly underwhelmed. I know it’s not just me. They really are duller and blander than they used to be. I have a folder full of cuttings from the first (and last) time I did up the place in the 90s, and there was so much more individuality in evidence. There was definitely a whole lot more colour. It’s the same with estate agents’ websites; I’m so bone weary of understated pearl grey show-homes I could boak.

I blame the wave of interior design TV shows that proliferated in the noughties. Stuff like The House Doctor which, in ordering sellers to kennel their pets, stick all their belongings in the attic, and paint everything magnolia if they wanted to make a killing, created a generation of entitled, unimaginative buyers who expect every house they look at to be neutral, immaculate and devoid of the previous owner’s personality from the get-go. Time was, unless you were minted, you expected any place you could just about afford to buy to be a minging fixer-upper by default. I watched a Netflix series not long ago in which a Canadian realtor found properties for a succession of single women and I could not believe how many of them bellyached that the kitchen didn’t have marble worktops and stainless steel appliances. Like, how about you save your pennies, like a fucking grownup, and buy your own when you’ve moved in! Jesus, I once viewed a flat that had brown suedette walls with a collection of German spiked military helmets mounted on them, but that wasn’t the reason I didn’t buy it; I simply didn’t like the layout or the hefty service charge.

Like those snide gits who comment on one’s “brave “fashion choices, these gumptionless dullards are guaranteed to look around a home like mine and say, “But what about when you want to sell? Aren’t you worried that your taste will put people off?” I’m not worried about it, mate, more depressed and resigned, but hey, that’s what paint’s for. In the mean time I plan to live here for the foreseeable future and I’d rather live with my taste than yours, not least since you have none.

*and relax*

So my lovely blogger friend Veronica mentioned that she was doing a What’s On Your Dressing Table? post, and did I fancy doing one, and I thought why the devil not? So to kick off I’ll start by saying I don’t actually like my dressing table very much. Firstly because I used to have a really gorgeous 1930s one, which I was forced to give away when I moved because it was too big for the space.

(My late dressing table. I can’t believe how little stuff there is on it!)

The other reason I hate my current one is that I didn’t reserve the most perfect - and reasonably priced - Arts and Crafts one I saw first. And I totally could have because the dealers were family friends who would absolutely have agreed to reserve it for the fifteen minutes it took me to get home and measure up. Although I rang them as soon as I had, some geezer had literally walked in off the street and nabbed it five minutes after I left. And because I urgently needed a small, preferably vintage, oak dressing table that would fit, I ended up buying this one. It’s crudely made, had been ravaged by woodworm, and more importantly, wasn’t the other one. To add insult to injury the mirror’s now bust; Not the glass but the bit that holds it together. But anyway...

...this tin, in which I keep necklaces, once contained Sharp’s toffees and came from the Jubilee Market in Covent Garden on antiques day. It looks 30s but it’s a suspiciously 50s palette so I’ve never been quite sure about its age. It was the first present I bought the flat when I moved in because the previous owner really loved baby blue and pastel pink. Because it’s quite shallow it hung on my bathroom wall for a couple of years like a decorative plate, where it looked very fetching with my turquoise bathroom suite. The only thing, incidentally, about the flat’s original decor, which I loved and happily kept.

As you can see, there’s a lot of perspex on my dressing table, and what isn’t perspex is glass. The moulded glass tray was a couple of quid from a chazza, as was the lidded dish, in which I keep my collection of Murano glass rings.

Most of these came from charity shops too, as did the little china bird.

All my plastic bangles are on a chest of drawers opposite the bed. Only the metal ones live here. The little ceramic ring dish was made by my friend Steve, as was the little blue one on the other side of the dressing table. The perspex box contains Les Néréides brooches and necklaces, all scored in sample or flash sales over the past ten years or so. I bought the blue and gold ceramic brooch on a work trip to Loughborough. I regret I can’t remember the artist’s name and the only clue are the initials B.B on the reverse. My friend Graham bought me the horseshoe bolo tie back in the 80s. Of all the items on my dressing table it’s the oldest and I love that I’m still wearing it. You can just see this little enamel pin leaning against the mirror at the back.

It was the last prezzie my late BFF, Jane, ever sent me so it’s particularly dear to my heart. I will put it in a frame if I ever find one small enough.

This handsome devil is Boz, my first spectacularly handsome and dignified ginger boy. Get a load of the hideous sponged pink walls in the background. It was like sleeping in a summer pudding. Not for nothing was this flat known as Pink And Blue Hell when I first moved in.

More Les Néréides sample sale bargains. I bought the box in a chazza. The plastic rings are stacked on a cut-out perspex hand. Here’s a close-up of the box on the right, which was a gift from my friend Sarah, who knows I like an aquatically themed item. It looks very much like the 1940s brooches allegedly made from the windows of ex-war planes so I’ve always assumed it was of a similar vintage. It came from the Battersea Antiques Fair many moons ago. There’s yet more plastic bits and bobs inside it.

I love this coaster which was a present from Jayne, my friend in Hastings. There’s another on the chest of drawers beside my bed, which reads “always time for a cuppa”. So true, I find.

Here’s a close up of the detail on the lid of my favourite tin, which cost me a whole 20 pence off a stall at the Hanwell Carnival in the early 90s. Like the toffee tin it contains necklaces.

There are other necklaces in the vicinity. The hook these are hanging on came from the World’s Loveliest Gift Shop (RIP).

Well, that’s pretty much it for the dressing table. Though I wanted to share this chap with you since he lives in my bedroom too...

My Staffordshire ginge! I found him in a Hastings junk shop last summer and he cost me a whole fiver. He’s since been authenticated by an antique dealer friend. I absolutely love him.

Stay tuned for a post about my china cabinet.

Toodles!

#What's on my dressing table?#Perspex a-go-go

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drowningcomicart · 6 years

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time to wrestle with the pigs i guess, because this has got to end right the fuck now

content warnings for this post include pedophilia mentions, abuse mentions, suicide/suicide baiting, and csa mentions, and to everyone not involved hi, this has been my life for almost a year, it’s a lot of bullshit so tread with caution i guess. (and no i’m not putting it under a read more because this is important.)

with that out of the way, i want to make it very explicitly clear that i’m not writing this post as an apology, nor am i going to ‘justify’ myself because there’s nothing to fucking justify. but i’m addressing it because we’ve officially hit november, and that means that for nine fucking months, i have heard every disingenuous opinion on this mess there is to hear, whether i wanted it or not. and i am tired, and i am done, but y’all wanna keep beating this horse, so here i am.

for those who are unaware, in february of this year someone in the fantroll circle--or at least the one i’m part of--was being unjustly harassed by some dumbass teenagers with a chip on their shoulders and nothing better to do. and because no one else was saying or doing anything, i made a post calling out the stupidity of bothering someone over an art style and if they were blown, they should just block and move on. i never mentioned the harasser’s usernames, not even in the tags. but i guess the ringleader’s guilty conscience took over, because they came crytyping at me in a dm to take the post down and how it wasn’t faaaaiiirrr. and when i gave no sympathy, saying i had not mentioned them by name and if they felt guilty, maybe they shouldn’t be a vicious asshole to people, magically they weren’t sad and anxious about how people would treat them (ha) anymore; they got mad. mad enough that they started a smear campaign against me under the guise of Protecting The Community and horribly twisting one of my characters into something he’s not so they could call me a pedophile.

he is a csa survivor. he has bad coping mechanisms for that trauma, and yes, it is dark. it is uhealthy and sad and tragic and awful. but it is still part of his story, and i am not going to shy away from telling it. and since that entire blog always had nsfw tagged, and unless tumblr was fucking around should not have been accessible to anyone under 18 in the first place, the abusive little shits who made it their personal goal to drive me out of the community, off of tumblr, and apparently hopefully into killing myself, should not have been able to see that content at all. unless they chose to, and again as mentioned above, it was definitely a choice. a choice born of spite and violence, because it was ONLY to have “dirt” on me when i called them on their shit behavior. because, i cannot stress this enough, it was never ever about pedophilia. it was about a power struggle. a made up stupid power struggle they felt the need to ‘win’ at any and all costs, including making a wildly serious accusation with no substance, altering screenshots to serve their purpose, and taking everything out of context to suit their narrative. and this is how it is for literally every single anti-based argument out there.

now we all know how i feel about the purity crusade happening on this dumpsterfire of a website, but in case you don’t THERE IS NO CASE WHATSOEVER IN WHICH DARKFIC IS THE SAME THING AS REAL LIFE CRIMES. if you disagree with that, please block me. please. literally right now. block me. block me and go away and i only pray you learn to separate fiction from reality and don’t turn into what these demons are. because i don’t care how much you disagree with someone, i don’t care how much you don’t like them, i do not care about any of it. your presence in those spaces is your choice. because despite what antis will have you believe, people writing and drawing this stuff always--and i will say always knowing you’re smart enough to not give me The One Exception as your airtight strawman to render every other argument invalid--tag it, keep it in adult-only spaces, and are responsible enough to know what ‘i understand and wish to continue’ buttons mean.

and so, knowing that fiction does not equal reality, and that the spaces these fictions are written in are inherently designed to make it so only people who say yes i wanna see it can access it, or hell even knowing basic fucking human decency, there is NO reason to suicide bait someone. ever. period. do not tell people to die you actual fucking monsters. people HAVE killed themselves. and if you’re okay with that, if you are really seriously willing to say someone deserved to die over fiction, block me. i don’t want to see anything from you until you find your humanity again. and yet here i am, again 9 months after the fact, and people are STILL messaging me about it. even my would be supporters, the ones who claim they’re only concerned for my reputation or whatever, are being disingenuous and victim blaming. all i have heard is “you should prove your innocence cos you’re making people uncomfortable otherwise”. it belies their stance on these things; that they secretly agree it’s ok to harass content creators so long as they can pretend to themselves it’s justified in some small way. that if someone doesn’t want to give their abusers--and internet harassment IS abuse do not @ me on this one--a platform, it’s the same as admitting they’re correct, no matter how absurd the lie. Yet they do nothing to show support for people being harassed because they’re too concerned with living in their comfortable bubble to make even the smallest effort to oust abusive jackasses from their own community, and then go on to bellyache that the fandom “isn’t what it used to be” and wonder “where everyone went”.

with any luck, they’re like me and they “went” to doctors and got medicated for the depression and anxiety this sort of shit exacerbates, and blocked all involved for their own sanity and because they don’t owe anyone shit. but more likely, from what i’ve seen? they’re dead. and if that makes you sick, if that makes you uncomfortable, it fucking should. people are fucking dead because of fictional characters, from a source that in and of itself deals with very upsetting and adult themes using child protagonists. regardless if they’re survivors of abuse themselves, or just like to explore anxieties and fears in the very VERY safe environment of fiction, where there are no real life consequences, it doesn’t matter. there’s no such thing as people who are “allowed” to write these subjects and people who are not. no one needs to put their life and vulnerabilities on the table for complete strangers to judge and deem worthy or unworthy of basic decency. to say otherwise is despicably transparent in their motives to exploit already vulnerable people for their personal entertainment or self gratification, and yet people fall for it every goddamned time.

i’m not going to make an argument that i’m not a pedophile because i shouldn’t have to. y’all should be able to use your fucking brains well enough to know that someone drawing fictional scenarios is not the same as a real adult abusing real children with very real world consequences. if it is personally upsetting to you, or makes you feel uncomfortable, or even triggers ptsd please for the love of god leave the blog. why would you put yourself through that? why would you, if you are so against it, actively seek it out and harass people who make it? i would never call people outright liars about what does and does not trigger them. but it seems to me the only people who would behave in this way are either not as bothered as they have convinced themselves and everyone else they are, or they have some seriously bad coping mechanisms for their own trauma that are in no way the fault of the authors and artists at the receiving end of their vitriol. but as someone who was horribly abused, emotionally and psychologically, for the majority of my life, i know an abusive power trip when i see one.

if y’all have been supporting these people without thinking about it, i don’t want your apologies and shame, and likely no one else you’ve let get trampled with no help does either. but you have to do better. WE have to do better. even something as small as blocking people you know to be abusive jerks in the community can make a world of difference because they can’t have power if you don’t let them have a platform.

and as for the people in the community who started this mess, cos i know you still look up my posts in the tags--i’m not afraid of you. i’m not fucking going anywhere. i am here to enjoy my characters, enjoy my writing, enjoy making art and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. you are not going to silence me because you got mad that i called you out for being an abusive asshole. and anyone who listens to your bullshit deserves better than to be manipulated and frightened of you. fucking grow up and get some help, because lying about wanting to protect people by causing active harm to others is more morally bankrupt than any darkfic could ever be.

#purity wank #anti culture #abuse #internet harassment #fantroll #last tag only because it's the relevant community #do not respond or @ me with disingenuous arguments on this either #if you don't think people shouldn't be told to kill themselves #go get your life sorted and fucking block me #cos i don't want to talk to you #and if you do it anyways i will block YOU #because i do not owe your stupid ass my time or energy #rant #personal

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maiji · 6 years

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“If you could pick 5 members to be on your team in the dark tournament, who would it be?”

So while I was going back through my archives trying to see if I had any incorrectly flagged content (I scrolled all the way to 2015, found three, and gave up/went to bed lol), I kept getting distracted and rereading old posts out of amusement. One of them was this 21 Questions Yu Yu Hakusho meme - and one question in particular made the gears of my brain clank so I thought hey, why not? Let’s answer it.

I'm going to tackle this question from two angles.

A) If I could pick ANY characters in Yu Yu Hakusho to form a team.

B) If I could only pick characters who appear during the actual Dark Tournament.

As soon as you see my first list, you'll understand why I was like, “oh.” and opted to do it again from B lmao.

(Oh yeah my tags spoil everything but oh well. Hope the rationale makes up for it hahaha)

VERSION A: Fun times

Raizen.

I'm sorry, the tournament is over now, thank you for coming. Seriously though, he's Yusuke with a million times more firepower and brains/experience. Also, one of the appeals of Yusuke is that he makes fighting fun, which is why everyone wants to go up against him. Raizen's friends express the exact same sentiment repeatedly. Raizen in his prime in battle would be a sight to see. He'd be all DID SOMEBODY SAY FIGHTING?? YEAH I'LL FIGHT ALL THE FIGHTS WAHOO and nobody would be able to get him off the arena platform. If there is an arena platform left. Or an arena. Or anything.

Enki.

Jolly uncle/all-round good dude, I love him. He also loves fighting, so he is also lots of fun. He seems much more cool-headed and practical than Raizen, and definitely takes the lead in coordinating the rest of Raizen's pals. Thus, he's a great wingman for Raizen. If you somehow actually manage to defeat Raizen- haha, what am I talking about? OK, if Raizen slept in or something, then you can fight Enki. And in that case the tournament is still over.

Kokou.

LOVES FIGHTING AND WILL KICK YOUR ASS. Even Enki was relieved he didn't have to face her. I firmly believe after Raizen she's the strongest - or at least one of the strongest - out of all of Raizen's already insanely powerful friends. Honestly, between Raizen and Kokou they'd probably just take everybody down, including each other, and have a blast.

My perfect noodle husband Hokushin.

Obviously no one is surprised at this pick on my blog. Also loves fighting, plus super duper reliable, he's perfect support for anything. Along with Enki, he'd help temper Raizen and Kokou's wild party. And somebody needs to clean up after all the mess and make sure everybody gets first aid and whatever. Well, first aid for the other team they just massacred, I guess.

One more Raizen friend: Natsume.

We could put another one of Raizen's friends here, but I pick Natsume because we know a lot more about her and she's so badass and we should have more women. Also, because she's very clearly another great mashup of LOVES FIGHTING and NOT STUPID, as a fifth member, she can easily step in to fill any of the others' shoes, whether it's happily beat the crap out of everything in sight or be calm and strategize. If anybody ever actually needed to be filled in for some reason.

I call this amazingness Team Old People. IMO this team is flawless because they would just be so damn entertaining on so many levels. You have five extremely powerful and smart warriors with centuries of experience who have nothing to prove aside from sheer enjoyment of battle. Every one of them has expressed a passion for fighting because it's simply a joy for them, which means they wouldn't be playing it safe/boring. Seeing a master in action at practically anything is awesome, and not only that but they’d be willing to experiment and take risks and do things that are out there. A tournament is also a form of entertainment for the audience (both the real life audience and the one in the show), and that combined with their expert level combat skills means that I think they'd be so fantastic to watch. And all of them have distinct personalities that balance "I am an ancient demon with wisdom and stuff" VS "I love punching people (or getting punched) in the face!!" in different enough ways that they still offer really interesting character dynamics and interaction opportunities. And they would also be incredibly supportive of each other while still allowing for plenty of snark.

That said, FUN FUN FUN aside, the very obvious problem with this team is that they seriously break the question. And everything else. Even if they don’t intend to flat out obliterate everything, that’s what would probably happen, and that unfortunately can easily head towards its own kind of boring. Everyone would be like "why are we having a tournament, we're going home". So, we must leave Team Old People behind and move on to version B.

VERSION B: Serious business

Dark Tournament characters only. I will exclude members of the Toguro Team from my selection for obvious reasons. NO MORE FUN TIME. This is me pretending that I'm some rich underworld dude or whatever putting together a team I'm betting on to get through the tournament. You're going to see a clear pattern emerging from my picks.

Genkai.

The veteran. Intelligent, experienced, very powerful and pragmatic. I'd shell out big bucks to get her to come back to be my team's captain. No question for me, she's a must, even if all she does is sit on the sidelines and coach the rest of the team. With a group of serious, motivated and talented fighters, she'd be the best mentor and my team would be well-positioned to MAKE ME LOTS OF MONEY SO IN YOUR SMOKY SCARRED FACE SAKYO

Hiei.

Those who know me may find it shocking that I'm including Hiei but not Yusuke, Kuwabara, or Kurama. Hiei doesn't appear on my tumblr very often, and of the four main characters he's probably the one I'm least emotionally invested in. But if you're assembling a team for the Dark Tournament, you're IN IT TO WIN IT!! And Hiei is the best bet. I shall explain.

Hiei is efficient and effective, and his success ratio is the highest out of all Urameshi Team members - the most number of individual fights without a single loss or draw. Granted, he sits out for a chunk of the tournament, but he rarely appears worn out at the end of a fight. The only time he overexerts himself is against Zeru; after his recovery, he never seems to break a sweat. Even against Bui, he had no real issues. From a betting perspective, his odds are very, very good. Kuwabara and Kurama both experience multiple losses - Kuwabara often because he's young and overconfident or becomes so personally involved that he cares more for a positive outcome for other people than for winning; Kurama often because (as Hiei notes) he tends to overcalculate the situation and draw things out so long figuring everything out that it turns into a disadvantage. Yusuke's very strong and has huge potential, but he's also focused far too much on the experience. This makes his battles fun to watch but would give a strategist heart attacks. Many of his fights involve near-misses or less-than-ideal situations stemming from amateur errors. And finally, he gets dinged with a draw in his match with Jin, in part because his dawdling on the field made the deception feasible. Yusuke's great for drama and storytelling, not great for the comfort of my pocketbook. Having him on a team is risky when I know the other underworld bosses I'm competing against are not above using underhanded tactics.

As a result, based on a purely practical evaluation, Hiei is the most reliable choice. He's very focused on, and very good at, the one thing I want - DEFEAT THE OPPONENT UNEQUIVOCALLY. He comes in and tears people apart and there's no chance of an ambiguous referee call. He just needs his team members to be people he can respect to keep him in line. With Genkai as captain, that shouldn't be an issue. Nor with the rest of my picks.

Ryo (Kai in the anime) / M-3.

This is the Dr. Ichigaki member with the invisible claw powers. After their fight, he offers to be a replacement for the seriously injured Kuwabara (Yusuke appreciates it but has to turn him down because it's against the rules unless Kuwabara actually dies). He seems to be the strongest of the three students who were brainwashed by Ichigaki, and without Genkai's intervention and his own struggling against Ichigaki's mechanism, he would very likely have wiped out Kuwabara and Yusuke. He's extremely serious and dedicated, and with someone like Genkai steering the helm I think he'd go far. I'd be comfortable putting money on him. I also like him a lot and wish he had more involvement in the story - I've always felt that if Togashi didn’t need to get Koenma in for story purposes Yusuke hadn't been so freaked out and completely lost mentally when Genkai died, he probably would've asked Ryo to be the replacement fifth member. SOMEONE WRITE THIS

Touya.

Stronger than Gama, less arrogant than Risho, more reliable than Jin (who has many of the same problems as Yusuke), and Bakken sucks and will never be considered by anybody. Touya's powers are also very flexible. Somebody just needs to tell him to NOT TALK TO HIS OPPONENT. Don't talk to them, don't listen to them, don't let them distract you, don't let them get into your head, JUST GET IN THERE AND EYE ON THE PRIZE AND BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF THEM OKAY lol. I also think when Genkai was training everyone for Kurama, Touya was probably the one who gave her the least hard time. I mean, out of Touya, Jin, Chuu, Rinku, Suzuki and Shishiwakamaru who do YOU think would bellyache the least? I thought so.

The fifth member is actually a backup/alternate who doesn't necessarily see action (if you recall, this is why Chuu was mad). For my final pick, I took a while to decide, so I'll tell you about both of the last two people I was considering since I enjoy any excuse to talk about characters I don’t usually see mentioned.

5a is Zeru.

OK, partly I considered him because nobody remembers him lmao - he was Hiei's first victory, obliterated into a shadow by Hiei's training-wheels Kokuryuuha. But if you look at my other picks, I think you'll appreciate why he's on my radar - he fits the profile of what I'm looking for very nicely. I want someone in control of themselves; who is a reliable, consistent, focused fighter unlikely to get distracted by other things; who clearly demonstrates power and is committed and has potential to grow really fast with the right direction/team captain. The only thing is that with Hiei already on the team, this may be duplicating the skillset and the mental profile a bit too much. And I think it's clear Hiei already has the upperhand in baseline power. So,

5b is Suzuki.

His strength isn't fighting. It's his ingenuity in adapting, augmenting, and outfitting his team members with really good, really creative tools. He's honestly more a tinkerer and an inventor, imaginatively tweaking things to be even more useful, and whenever he realizes and accepts this about himself instead of trying to be just another fighter in the limelight, he'll be rich lmao. Anyways, this skill makes him a hugely valuable asset. I don't need him to be in the ring, I'm fine having him support with cool gadgets to amplify the rest of the team.

I HOPE YOU LIKED MY PICKS lol

#yu yu hakusho #meme #21 questions yyh style #raizen #enki #kokou #hokushin #natsume #genkai #hiei #ryo #touya #zeru #suzuki

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belliesandburps · 3 years

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Hey, this is the same anon from before who asked if you had any belly or burping headcanons for Luffy from One Piece. I heard that Tumblr has been eating asks so I'm not sure if that last one went through.

That’s a tricky one because, honestly, Luffy’s ACTUAL canon is...well...

Buuuuuut, what the hell. :P

Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece)

Kinda goes without saying, but Luffy is...like, quite possibly, the most gluttonous anime character ever put to paper. Like, seriously, he LIVES to eat and is stuffing his face to the brim every other episode. I mean, hey, when you GOT a body made outta rubber, why the hell NOT use it, right? ‘XD

Luffy’s stomach capacity has to have inspired half of the exaggerated belly bloats you’ll ever see online. He’s an anime cartoon pirate. Like, he will literally put his lips around a water breach and just chug ALL of the water to the point where his belly becomes a massive, sloshy boulder. One that leaves him waterlogged and extra burpy. And don’t take my word for it, kids...

Not only that, but he even gorges himself for the sake of summoning some of his stronger “modes,” like one where he becomes super bulked out for hand-to-hand combat after being a literal balloon boy...he’d be MUCH higher on the kink-list if the proportions weren’t so damn ridiculous, and all the burps in the actual anime were actual burps and not just sighs other people call burps. C’mon, Japan. You can do better than that. ‘XD

I don’t think Luffy is capable of having a bellyache, because, well, he’s literally eaten about six times his bodyweight in food and turned into a bloated, rubbery mattress. But that said, he TOTALLY loves having his belly rubbed. Whether he’s stuffed or even on an empty stomach, he’s incredibly fond of having his rubbery flesh stroked all over. He loves physical affection and has a very delicate stomach that will always turn him into putty when stroked gingerly. And when he’s nice and full, he loves playing with his belly, like sloshing it around and snickering at the feeling of all the contents in his gut sloshing and gurgling away in his gut.

Kinda goes without saying but Luffy’s favorite meal is meat. Like...ALL of the meat. He is almost literally a bottomless pit and will chow down. Though, frankly, leave food of ANY kind around Luffy and it’s going straight down his gullet...

Luffy’s a rubber man, it stems to reason he would have noooo issues swallowing anyone whole, needless to say. His jaw stretches wide enough to swallow a person whole just when he’s exasperated. So imagine if he did it on purposes. XD

Luffy’s belly is, canonically, incredibly noisy. In the show and manga, when he’s hungry, his stomach rumbles loudly enough that people think it’s an earthquake. It sloshes incredibly heavily when he drinks a lot, and gurgles up a storm when he’s overstuffed or suffering anything resembling indigestion.

Luffy’s favorite beverage, since he isn’t quite old enough to drink, is soda. And like with everything else, when he downs a soda, he chugs it in record time. Aaaaand much to my delight, often has the kinda results it WOULD have when someone downs all that fizzy goodness all at once the way Luffy does:

^Literally him letting out a huge burp right after chugging an entire soda down all at once while Zorro is living it up with a stronger drink next to him.

One of my favorite aspects about Luffy besides his relentless exuberance is he’s also one of the burpiest anime characters I think I’ve seen yet. There’s a scene where he’s on Hancock’s ship after stuffing his face with as much meat as he can cram down his gullet at once, that ends with him stuffed, bloated and patting his fattened belly contently. And as soon as he’s told he needs to keep it down because he’s a stowaway, he responds by burping loudly and giggling to himself. (Would’ve been infinitely better if there was at least an actual burp accompanying the action, buuuuut anime is weird about that sorta thing sometimes...) Stems to reason that Luffy can belch like a champ. Given how much he pigs out and how much water or soda he chugs, or how rapidly his body digests anything he consumes, he’s just a very naturally gassy straw hat pirate. He’s quick to get into burping contests with Usopp and Brook (two other gluttonous, burpy pirates...go figure, the only one who ACTUALLY burps in the anime is the freakin’ skeleton ‘XD) and is so childish and boastful that he’ll always, without fail, punctuate the completion of his meal with a massive burp. And his response is either to snicker, boast that he can let out a WAY bigger one, or sigh with relief and give his bloated belly a few hearty pats of satisfaction. He also has no embarrassment or shame. There’s literally a scene when he’s a prisoner with someone else, both of whom were fattened by an eating contest they just had in prison. And when confronted by the warden, Luffy’s only response is to let out a MASSIVE burp and revert back to his regular form so he can fight. What more need be said? ‘XD

Luffy’s body is weird, but I like to think he’s probably prone to getting hiccups often. He eats so fast that something is inevitably bound to get lodged down his literally-rubbery gullet the wrong way. And that can cause his esophagus to hitch up and start making him hiccup a lot. His hiccups are high-pitched and usually jerk his entire body. And when he gets them, he’ll always try to down a whole bunch of water to settle his stomach. All that accomplishes is getting his belly nice and waterlogged, causing him to let out more “hiccuUURRRP’s” instead. And with each hiccup, his belly bounces, warbles and sloshes about all at once.

Again, I love the idea of Luffy a lot, and would adore him for kink purposes if there were just a few more instances of natural bloating from him. But everything about One Piece is so insanely exaggerated that MOST of the times, when Luffy gets bloated, it’s one of those instances where the lad is more belly than person. And I’m sorry, but that’s just too damn ridiculous, even for me. XD

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 12)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 11

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Protectiveness for his child of surprise may be the only thing that could get a witcher confessing to a midget with all of his pent up aggression and kept up feelings that he has been dealing since day one because he knew he wasn’t just protecting Cirilla. Deep inside, he was also protecting you from the wicked that lurks throughout the continent; trying hard to wipe you out of their dimension by hook or by crook. One kiss is all it takes for all the frustration to stop...or maybe not?

Warnings: Slight angst? MEAN Geralt. Sweet Geralt too. Soft Geralt too. (It’s kind of a tough contrast don’t you think? HAHAHA!) Jaskier feeling...things that shouldn’t be felt. Uh-oh. Reader being frustrated and infuriated. Cirilla being a sweetheart! Modern references included!

Words: 7,1k

A/N: Smut will come in Chapter 14 and 15. Yes, two chapters for the filth! Because...Why not?! (*frustrated potato*) I THINK TUMBLR IS ACTING UP. I SEE FICS WHERE I’M TAGGED BUT I AM NOT INFORMED. ALSO, I CAN’T INCLUDE PICS OR GIFS FROM MY LAPTOP! *angry growls* I’m lucky because i’ve had my banners and other gifs in my drafts last night and Tumblr is acting up today!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

Your days have been quite a torture. A mix of embarrassment and full blown flusters when Geralt was around. It was simply a slip of the moment as you were too enamored by the witcher and his succulent lips that you oh-so-idiotically swerved when you could've went straight for the target instead.

Yet, here you were. Torturing yourself by taunting the witcher the day after the time you've began your self-assuring tease by telling Geralt what you've been feeling since the day you've arrived.

Now, you were being punished? Or probably suffering from a serious case of insomnia and the idea of missing his presence because the witcher wasn't around and it has already been days.

What if he gets hurt? You mindlessly talked to your alter ego, receiving a response that he's a tough one and a pretty skillful swordsman, so worrying about it like a wife does to her husband who was a soldier can be toned down to the slightest.

God, those lips. You were an idiotic potato for even doing the first move and eventually failing as you do so; like a five year old giving her crush a kiss. Well, pretty much five year old were more confident than you in this condition.

Warm palms spread through your shoulder, giving you a fright as you sat back and your tushie fell to the ground with a soft thud; with Kolby giving you those scary smile of his that made you want to pat his head but today, it seems like you weren't in the mood and that there was something bothering you with your thoughts wandering about Geralt. The witcher himself and only him.

You were acting like a clingy girlfriend when you both weren't lovers at all. Maybe, being delusional and creating fan-fics about your celebrity crushes back at your apartment wasn't enough that you even had to think that Geralt would want to be with you forever like how such happy endings in stories must have been.

What if he was just one horny man who wanted to hulk-smash because you were different than his flock of felines?

Well, it wasn't like you weren't acting the same way like a toey teenager when he hauled you closer to his chest; giving him the heart eyes.

Why must he be a white-haired hunk of a man who knew how to fight and knew magic? Even skillful with his sword?

"Oh---Geralt!" you shrieked out of the blue, the body heat of Jaskier's presence radiating beside you as he sat crouched with a crooked smile, "I must say, you're quite obsessed with the witcher since that awfully intimate moment you've had in the bathing room,"

You ignored the teasing tone he omitted and went on to shooting a question you've been bothering him since the day Geralt was out and about, "Where's Geralt?" hence, the bard could already hear the tiny whines for the presence of the witcher and he couldn't help but scoff.

"You're hurting my poor heart for asking Geralt when it's actually a pretty handsome bard in front of you,"

Your lips instantaneously jutted out in a sad pout, exhaling a long sigh as you shifted your legs into a criss-cross position; staring into space, "I need Geralt," pause and another sigh, "---I miss Geralt,"

The sudden strong yearning was becoming worse each day without Geralt around. It felt incomplete, unsatisfying and utterly frustrating that he wasn't with you, nor can you even sleep without feeling those fingers of his raking your hair even though it was only done one time.

Heck, you were worried that maybe Geralt used magic within you when you've taken your slumber because the feelings you have for him was turning insufferable, irksome when you want something but has never been given and utmost round the bend.

All you wanted and ever asked for was Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. In which, confused the bard because you've become too attached after the Djinn incident.

"This is certainly a huge relationship development if you're finding him that miserably all the time," Jaskier stated the obvious, his laugh sounding disturbed because of your new personality that he'd noticed; or maybe you were one of those types of women?

Though, what baffles him the most is that there are days where you actually don't try to find him; like you were being just you and not one needy lady whom asks for only the witcher when he'll be coming home. Just the timid, naive small rat he knew.

There were also strange instances whenever you sleep back in Geralt's chambers; as he was writing another new epic he'd ought to create, the bard heard you whimpering and sobbing like you were in pain when it was already two in the morning.

He'd wanted to check up on you. Though, he was quite doubtful because a woman deserves whatever space and respect; thinking that maybe you were spending some wonderful time with yourself and had the pleasant time to take it while Geralt wasn't around. But, your whimpers were something else. It was a mixture of pain and distress.

Therefore, Jaskier tried to ignore your hushed outcries, although he could technically hear it from the other side of the room. The draft of his epic now forgotten as he fidgeted; he went on with dipping the tip of his feather on the ink and write nothing on his piece of parchment.

After hearing those nightly weeps of yours, the bard never left your side. Especially when you were alone in the morning, thinking that you were having a mental breakdown and actually just missing the witcher.

He could do just that. Distract you with his talkative self and so he did.

"A witcher needs to do what he always does," the bard reassured, waving off Kolby who tried sniffing his ear.

You've snapped out of your stupor, giving the bard a stink eye as he was wailing his arms around to wave Kolby away from assaulting his face, "I thought you were his travel companion? Why are you here? Shouldn't you be protecting him as well?"

Jaskier continued his bellyaching, "You naughty Hirikka!" he scolded the doe-eyed Hirikka; the creature abruptly planting his tushie on the ground as he growled at the bard as the toubadour mockingly growled back as well, a sharp bark coming from the Hirikka, "---What? With a lute? Kill beasts with my singing?"

"Then, what are you even here for?" you deadpanned. Voice all nonplussed as you apathetically gave the bard your gaze.

Jaskier made a fuss, shifting on his crouched position and turned to completely give you his full attention, giving you back a stinky lour, "How rude of you! I wonder why the djinn has never sent you home!"

You had your cheeks hollowed looking like a chipmunk as you ignored his whingeing, "What if he dies?"

Jaskier was fighting off the feeling of rolling his eyes for your worry. Geralt has dealt with lots of beasts already and his current hunt wouldn't earn him a sweat as he'd already killed a lot of its kind, "He never does. Cease the worry. He can kill beasts even when he sleeps," the bard gave an abrupt pause, gesturing with his finger as he pointed it to you to add more effect as you tried to understand his point, "---Unless, if its you he's sleeping with then we all die from the beast! Cirilla and I know how his senses are disappointing because you're like the silver to his...his...monster?"

"He isn't a monster, Jaskier." you blankly pressed.

"Who even said he was?" he gave you a guileless shrug of his shoulders. Jaskier clicked his tongue, pretty blue eyes fixated on you as it twinkled along the sunny day while you sat in the middle of their living room, "---Besides, he's hunting down a bruxa for the whole week. My dagger won't be useful for the darn beast,"

A Bruxa. You hummed to yourself in understanding; remembering that Geralt has told stories about the monster. It was a type of vampire that takes on the appearance of a dark-haired, young woman whose natural form is that of a large black bat, with sharp fangs and claws. Technically, their form of vampires weren't all glitz and glimmer that they glitter against the sunlight nor are they rich dudes that were bloody pale, attractive and screams like a banshee.

"You have a dagger?" you grilled the bard. He gave you a nod and a laid-back answer, "Well, Geralt has given me one; taught me how to use it too,"

Jaskier hasn't left your side from the moment you woke up. He had been keeping you company like an injured person. It kept you cynical because it even got to the point of following you where ever you may go; which made you skeptical about his whole tailing the midget while Geralt wasn't around.

But, you were thankful. It got you distracted by not noticing that heavy, rattling feeling inside your chest.

"Smile!" you aimed the camera of your cellphone at the appalled trouvère who had his eyeballs popping out of his eye sockets as he was struck dumb, arms crossed in front of him, shielding himself from your digital phone.

Stifling titters wanted to come out of your lips when you've received a scared bard by aiming your camera at him. Jaskier tried peeking to see your guffawing self treating him as a laughing stock. He cocked his head to the side in suspicion as he heard a loud 'click', dropping his arms to the side as he gave a frown because you were giggling back at him.

"What's that?" you've both sat on the dining table; close to each other. He'd scooted closer, trying to see what were you doing as you continued to tap on your phone that still had no time nor date listed. "A phone," you simply said; focused on the phone at hand as Jaskier's curiosity got the best of him, grasping nothing but the idea that your so called phone was out of this world and utterly magnificent when you've showed him the picture you've taken. The kaleidoscope of colors complimenting each picture which fascinated him.

"Is it a weapon?" he asked out of the blue, too absorbed by the phone on your hand as you've felt Jaskier lean in close, his hair touching yours as you were too concentrated with the thing you had in your hand.

Jaskier coincidentally raised his line of vision to look at your face. It was thoroughly unintentional especially when he'd seem to never break his eyes away from you; like he'd seen something worth to be stared at.

He didn't mean to outstare all of a sudden.

"I can throw it at your head, though my phone might be the one breaking rather than your head," you sent a harmless bon mot, being all smiles as you've sent a teasing jest.

Tranquil silence. Totally impossible for the bard to achieve with his chatty mouth. You've given him a look which was entirely a flicker of pure impeccability when you've lately realized that he was staring at you with a twinkle of his pretty ocean blue eyes.

The bard awkwardly cleared his throat, his face suddenly feeling warm when you've taken the time to look into his eyes. "Jaskier," he clicked his tongue and swallowed the ticklish feeling down his throat and avoided those eyes of yours while he'd pulled back from how the proximity was enough to remember Geralt who would tell him to 'fuck off.' for at least a thousand times, "Would you mind if I record your songs?"

He blinked back in curiosity. Record. Jaskier didn't know what it meant, "What? I cannot fathom whatever it is you're saying, rat---"

You've given him a wide grin, beaming before him with a twinkle of your eyes. "Just play your lute for me, will ya'?"

Thus, Jaskier did in a fraction of a second; like a demand from the queen. He did, surprisingly.

A distraction was best at the weird pain that spreads through your chest; along the valley of your breasts because of the realization that Geralt wasn't around. Your nightly weeps needed to have explanations because feeling the scorching pain that radiates off the symbol wasn't normal.

Including the thirst you had for the witcher himself; craving for his touches and existence. Alarming you that what you wanted from him wasn't just profound affection but also his virility as well and even a part of his soul.

The princess of Cintra was bored to tears. She'd pleaded and gave you the puppy eyes; thoroughly begging to wander through the woods and catching fireflies. Hearing something familiar that actually existed just like the same ones in earth amazed you because it was something that you've never get to see ever because of pollution and its habitat being endangered with the year you were in.

Apparently, you've followed her orders. Cirilla didn't want Jaskier to come because it's a bonding that only you and Cirilla should experience. Despite of how pushy he was, worried that Geralt would get mad at him for even letting you wander in the woods all by yourselves. He eventually agreed with a sigh and a bothered expression; telling you both that when the frog croaks in chorus, it was time to go home.

You've wondered, imagining how their frogs actually croak in chorus. Yet, having to experience it was rather much different than imagining as you've seen the whole scene unfold before you. A captivating sigh that had you cooing in the middle of the woods as there were balls of light that blinked within the thone ground like Christmas lights twinkling in the 25th of December.

It was beautiful.

Cirilla seemed to be rather used to it as she explained how it was already the croak of the night, her feet never leaving the ground as she was joyously catching a firefly that glowed with the frogs, swinging her jar till one was captured, "Is everything okay, Y/N? Oh! A firefly!" she excitedly mussed, giving you a glance and noticed that your expressions were twisted in a way that says you weren't comfortable.

You've given your symbol a caress; trying to relieve the utter worry and fury that was spreading through your chest with no reason. Why were you mad? At whom? on what? Also, the uncomfortable feeling came with knowing that Geralt already came home. He was finally home.

Howbeit, you didn't know why your intuitions tell you that he was finally home.

"Yes. It's just that...Geralt's home," you hesitatingly spoke, shaking your head to wash away the sensations as you honestly told the beaming Ashen child, "---and I feel worried even though I should be excited that he's already home,"

Cirilla was unaware of your worried face as she went on with the jests, "Told you he likes you---!" the princess teased, laughing when she'd caught a glimpse of your flustered face; remembering the awful kiss you've done back in the bath room when you were with Geralt, "---Midget."

"Not you too, Cirilla." your face was burning in a trail of blush. You've quietly shrieked as she'd gave a teasing poke on your side; making you jump, "I was just playing with you!"

All was done and everyone was left satisfied. For the princess, that was what she felt. Great elation by having what she wanted all the time. Except for you, who appeared to be in a discordance when you took your trek back home.

The witcher was back earlier than he expected to. Unexpectedly running into some of the royal guards of Kaedwen and creating a skirmish with the knights who disturbed his peace after killing the bruxa he'd been hunting.

They had reasons for their disturbance. Conniving reasons just for him to agree for the favors that he has been asked to do; or wishes from a royal command that Geralt never accedes.

Bargains of giving enough coins that would last him for half a year, the cost of token higher than the previous deal which included women, coins and ale.

He was done with that lifestyle. Well, before you came around; that is.

The witcher was as stubborn as how the townspeople have been saying. They've came to the point of calling him a monster for butchering their fellow men in which Geralt never gave a damn about it because they were destined to die anyway by what evil they've chose to have.

He didn't need people giving him another moniker. He wouldn't let it live down if he'll have one but with just another city he'd tried to save. Some of the children and women they've abducted were homeless, taken in force or had slave contracts; saying they were owned by noblemen paying for their life despite of how they didn't want to agree in the first place.

The Butcher of Kaedwen? Blaviken? What else did he needed to do and have all those infamous monikers created for him?

Until, the men mentioned and threatened to kidnap a small woman who Tybalt had stabbed on the hip that made Geralt jump on his horse because he'd also heard them draw their swords; ought to bring bloodshed when the witcher never complies.

Hence, which is why he was now in the base of their home. All exhausted, droopy, worried and furious because you and Cirilla weren't home when he'd arrived. His temper rising off the roof.

Jaskier has received a sharp cuss from him and an intense rebuke from the witcher who came fully in Bruxa blood and a little bit splashes of human blood which answered the bard's question that a Bruxa hasn't been the only thing he'd encountered on the way home.

You promised Jaskier that you'll be back as soon as possible. However, it took you both an hour after the frogs have croaked in the night and a scary witcher who wore his all black armor and had a peevish expression on his face which explains the heavy feeling dropped on your chest; doubling more when you'd seen the impetuosity radiating off the brawny man.

Geralt heavily marched to meet you midway along the meadow; with Jaskier motioning something behind the witcher with his hands like a cat clawing and slicing his throat with his thumb when you couldn't understand what he wanted to say.

"Geralt---" the princess started, reading his rigid posture and instantly knowing what his current thoughts were. But, she was cut-off by a seething, curt query start of his interrogation.

This wasn't what you expected from him. Your imagination was that you'll try and get a hug out from the witcher himself, thankful that he'd arrived safely and with complete limbs; not this. Not an angered, bloody Geralt who had his nose flaring.

You were rooted on the ground; your mouth closing once he'd started to act volatile after a week of not seeing him.

"Where have you wandered in the forest in this wild hour of the night, Ciri? Y/N?"

Ah. Y/N. Not midget, but Y/N. You were now Y/N to him. Well, that kind of hurt. You didn't know that hearing him say your name in such fiery stung your heart; such sudden frustration riling your patience. The concern and melancholic desire to see him changing into ire.

You've shut your mouth, a forced small tremble of your lips turning into a guileless smile. Tilting your chin and realizing he was pretty much taller and utterly intimidating when mad. Those amber eyes of his that swirl in unfamiliar ferocity for wandering around the woods.

The witcher couldn't help it. After meeting some of the royal guards, his protectiveness took over as he traveled all the way home in haste to check his family if they were safe.

Especially you as he'd heard one of the cavaliers threaten to abduct you soon.

The naive pretense you've wanted to use through his anger wavered when you've heard your voice faintly quiver, "She's--She's with me, she's safe, Geralt. We were just catching fireflies or whatever this is called in your world---"

Albeit, it seemed like the witcher had a closed mind and didn't want to hear your explanations as he cut you off with a seething truth; his amber eyes blazing as his jaw was clenched so tight, "You think you can protect her?"

You swallowed the hurt for the truth that was sent out in the open, catching you off-guard by the harsh statement that was bound to be told because you were saved twice; like a princess who needed rescuing all the darn time.

Thus, it added more stones to the weight dragging your heart to the ground.

"I--I--" a pathetic stutter has been uttered before the angered witcher seemed to have lost his temper and lashed out on you. He was chirlish and brusque as he does so; like how everyone pointed him out to be and this was the first time you've seen the witcher acting the way he is now, "You can't because you also need saving," pause. "---Your rash behavior can get the both of you dying!"

The latter shook his head in thwart, his gaze burning you in a way that made you want to turn into dust.

"It was fucking dangerous out there!"

The more he gnarled felt like he was blaming you on whatever caused his life to turn the way it is; even the desire for Cirilla to wander in the woods to catch fireflies was all on you to be brought on your shoulders. You huffed out a shaky breath, disbelieving the way he was throwing his surly attitude towards you made you puff your cheeks in utter vexation; wanting nothing but to scream back at the witcher.

Jaskier has managed to saunter towards where Cirilla is, her eyes completely panic-stricken by Geralt's rage; watching between the both of you and seeming to want to step in between but it seems like there were also other issues as well that made you both angry at each other. Matters that should be truly said and not be kept on the inside.

"Ciri, come with me." the bard hushed, catching the princess by the arm and dragging her away till he brought her to the door way, around a hundred meters away from the pair as the both of you tried to withstand each other's glares.

She struggled against his hold, "But, Jaskier! It was my fault! It's not Y/N's fault. Why is she being scolded when I should be the one who must be? Geralt shouldn't be mad at her! What if he---"

"He won't hurt her physically, Princess. He never does. When did he ever hurt us no matter how irking we are? You know Geralt more than anyone in this world,"

Kolby was howling inside their home, his instincts knowing that there was something happening which added more noise to the argument you had with the butcher of Blaviken; shaking the night with your kept frustrations against each other.

"---He just knows how to ruin everything with his teetering, strong feelings. He isn't the best at expressing it but you know the lout knows how to care," he went on, trying to dispel her fears for the both of you, thinking that you would eventually hurt each other with heart-breaking words, "---He'll deal with it. Come on now,"

Jaskier ushered the princess to come inside. She was hesitant at first, giving you both glances before he pulled her in; giving you both the space that is needed. The bard knew that Geralt won't start talking in a sensible manner when they're around. He wouldn't try and open his heart with people hearing what he wanted to truly say.

Your eyes started to cloud, the sensitivity of yourself beginning to take over. One fact about you was that you didn't like people yelling like you were an idiot; as well as people who were mad at you for something you've done which adds more regret to the grief, "I know I'm useless. You didn't need to yell it out loud." you deadpanned, biting the insides of your lips; trying hard not to start sobbing because you've already felt the familiar tremble.

"---You know I would spare my life just for hers because she's a princess, Geralt." your voice got the best of you, quaking in a way that got the witcher knowing that you were in the midst of crying; but somehow reluctant to break down because of his doing, "---Is this how badly you want to kick me out of your house?"

You've blinked and try to ignore the warmth pooling around your eyes, never giving him the opportunity to see right through you before you've snapped your eyes back up to the witcher who had a grimace as he stared you down. The twinkle of your eyes that was an epitome of stars in the night was now loosing its gleam and it was because of him. He'd done something wrong again; like how he was used to. Mistakes that seem to go along with his name.

Geralt had his nose scrunched; having another set of his internal battles within himself as he watched you pour out your anger at him like he'd done to you. Sharing each other's frustration since the days prior that you weren't there for each other.

Your weeping at night. He'd knew. The witcher felt what you were feeling every damn night even though he wasn't with you and he didn't know why.

"I've had Ciri close to me! You know I wouldn't let her get hurt by anyone especially from the people of Nilfgaard!" Your raving was ceaseless; impulsively bringing out pasts you heard from Cirilla and Jaskier as they've tried to tell you important things that should be avoided or was evident of danger. They were the only ones who were openly alarming you about them and never the witcher.

"How did you know about that?" Geralt's scowl grew tighter, his question sounding like a vibrating snarl that warned you he was utterly vexed.

"Because your surprise child and Jaskier had the respect to tell me what's happening in this world you're in!"

You've felt yourself choking from the hysteria raging in your veins, angrily snapping at the witcher who also appeared to be in total dismay as his scowl turned into a frown; his gaze solely on you alone, never leaving your sight. Fists were tightened on either side of you, wanting to throw things out of madness for how rude he was when you remembered how he'd wanted to kiss you back at that certain day.

He was confusing you by how he was acting tonight which also left you enraged for his complicated hot and cold demeanor.

"I don't even know where I am! What this dimension is called! Nor do I know people! Who's bad or who's good! I don't know your map or any of your kingdom!"

"You don't need to know any of that!" because the more you knew about the continent, the more it can bring darkness to you. He'd thought that keeping some things within the family was better because he didn't want you to get involved by whatever problems they may bring.

The witcher wanted you to himself. He wants to protect you from any cruelty that the continent may offer because you were his little secret.

You were his midget. His.

You've roughly bit your lips, fighting the urge for the first tear to fall; howbeit, it was a traitor as you rolled your eyes and avoided his amber peepers searching through the emotions that you oh-so wanted to convey. But, all that was evident was disappointment, anger, sadness and grief because of expecting something that wasn't supposed to be expected from a monster-slayer.

Perhaps, hoping to see through what his good heart could offer was too delusional for you.

"---Don't worry, witcher. The princess comes first before I do. I know that and it should be as well. Thanks for making me come to my senses that I'm useless and a burden for you! I'll leave tomorrow morning so your baggage of having someone needed protecting would lessen on your shoulders," you kept a straight face, blankly looking away as inscrutable as possible; not giving him the benefit of seeing you mourning for the stab of your heart.

Mayhaps, wishing for the fondness to be reciprocated by a witcher was too much of a dream for you. Definitely too high to achieve nor hoped for.

Geralt deeply growled, his forehead creased like he was hurting. You've never seen the pain that spread through his face, letting the emotion he's been keeping to himself burst like he was showing vulnerability.

He didn't like it when you've deadpanned and called him a witcher. It sounded too cold and distant, like he was made to only be seen as a witcher to you, a stranger, a mutated human who slaughters beasts and nothing else.

"Don't call me that!" he snarled, invading the space you've had and your forehead was now in line with his massive chest. You peered up at him with the same ire pooling through your peepers, your gaze hostile as you spoke with thick sarcasm.

"Aren't you a witcher? What do you want me to call you, then? Your job description changed now?"

Geralt roughly breathed out of his nose, his broad shoulders going up and down as he was controlling those emotions that he had which always seemed to be stronger and uncontrollable. He narrowed his blazing amber eyes, genuinely staring into you as he kept his hands to himself; on either side of him. Wanting nothing but to grab onto your face and make you believe that he was earnest about not wanting to be called that when it came to you.

"Don't...Don't make it sound like I'm just a trifling matter to you,"

You scoffed out of the blue for his wishes that he suddenly seem to want, "But, aren't I also just a trifling matter to you, witcher? Or do you want to be called in full name? Geralt of Rivia? Is that your full name? Oh! Maybe, the butcher of Blaviken, then?"

The sound of you calling him witcher felt so distant because he knew that, for you; he was Geralt and not a witcher who people see him as a mutant who kills beasts. To you, he was more than human and less than a witcher. In your mind, he was Geralt. Only Geralt and nothing else because he was a man whom you see that had a good heart and hearing you call him with his monikers was shattering his stronghold.

"No!" he suddenly groaned out of the blue. You gave him the death stare, stepping a foot away from the man himself as his presence was too bewitching in the rage of fire that you both cast upon each other tonight, "What do you mean no?!"

"No," the witcher hoarsely repeated, snapping his head to the side as he gravelly spat out profanities out of those mouth that you've been dying to kiss.

"---Fuck! Don't."

You shook your head in utter disappointment. Your face in a baffling twist, "Are you a broken record or something? no? don't, what?"

He had his share of breaths; seeming to be straightening his thoughts before lowly muttering out his next words, his jaw still clenched as he turned his head to see those eyes waving the white flag like he was submitting and wanted all the anger to just vanish.

"Don't spare your life for anyone, midget." it was straight to the point, giving you what he wanted you to hear.

Yet, because of his unstable attitude; you've chose to weigh down the options as to what his words meant. Choosing the platonic sense of a thought before you even smash your heart into pieces by praying that he meant something more.

"But, she's a princess---"

"---Because you are also important,"

You could see the anger dissipating from his glowing eyes; shifting into such ire that also had a hint of dithering and abrupt acquiescence. Your heart skipped a beat when his words echoed inside your heated head.

'Because you are also important,' Howbeit, your assertion for the truth had you turning his words into the chaste part of options.

"Cirilla is more important than me, Geralt. She's your child of surprise. You know I would risk my life for her. No one would really care for my death anyway. I'm probably already dead for my family back in earth," you scorned, huffing out a breath that hitched when he started giving you the doubts again.

The witcher appeared to be more frustrated as time goes by, your denial making it all too difficult for him to explain, "I.....care!" he prolonged the simplicity in his words, his teeth showing as he gritted and deeply snarled, "I do care, midget. I care about you!"

"Ah." you impassively muttered, eyes vacant as there was a void hidden behind those peepers of yours, "---you mean that because I'm your responsibility. Noted." and a simple shrug of your shoulders was enough to draw a stressed-out growl from the man who kept your heart on the line, always.

"Fuck--no! Not that!"

A simple shake of your head and a chance to leave his presence was all it could take for Geralt to grab onto your wrists, surprising you to say the least. His hold on you was tight, never letting go as you tried and uselessly battled with his strength.

You skeptically sent him a sharp look as he appeared to be groaning out deep within those sturdy chest of his that was still clothed in armor, "Let go, Geralt. I swear to God, if you don't let go and use magic or your Harry Potter slash witcher styled---Wingardium Levi-O-sa on me---!"

"You know I will never do that!" he fumed, his expressions telling you that he was offended by even thinking he would hurt you in any way, disregarding your modern references that he simply couldn't understand. Therefore, Geralt carried on with his kept feelings and raved.

"You...You are important to me! I care because you're you..."

You've exhaled a huff of frustration, never believing his words that was always been said whenever he was caught up in a moment.

"You're speaking in riddles that I couldn't comprehend, my lord." a mock of his accent made you done for. The deathless struggle you've tried to escape in his hold; both hands prying him away but he was utterly stronger than you imagined him to be.

You were utmost naive that it was making him want to just kiss you hard for you to understand his feelings.

The witcher breathed fire. Features thoroughly livid for your naivity and denial, "You're too fucking blind and too naive!" he barked, completely infuriated for your nonsense.

You loudly whined as you tried wrenching his hand away. It was better to escape his presence because you could sense that the more you stayed, the more you would forgive this man in a heartbeat with his words that seem to confuse you.

It took one more struggle and a stumble of your own foot for how forcibly you were trying to get away his hold that Geralt swiftly hung that arm he holds; slipping it around his broad shoulders, catching you completely off-guard as he leaned down entirely to your height; your eyes bulging out of your eye sockets for his surprising gesture.

"Witcher---!!!"

However, those flamed words were forgotten as you've felt those pillowy, succulent lips of his fall onto yours in a feathery touch that got your insides growing wild.

Your eyes were all open, soul flying out of its chambers when you've felt his warm lips falling in between yours. A fluttering connection of both bodies that got your body turning rigid before he'd tried to snap you out of your shock and softly kissed tips of your lower lip, his fingers gently grabbing onto the side of your face; thumb falling into the tip of your chin to chide you into kissing him back.

He hoped he wasn't just imagining things; thoroughly thinking that what he felt about you can somehow also be reciprocated and that it wasn't just him.

You've eventually given a satisfied sigh and fluttered your eyes closed, entirely giving into what your heart desires; molding your vermillion to his with a soft pucker of your lips and your other hand falling onto the side of his chiseled face that got a low grumble of his chest out of him from the tender touch of your fingers he'd anticipated to feel.

You were finally kissing Geralt and your heart seemed to be flying out of its cage.

The kiss was how you imagined it to be. Soft and candied like a precised choreography dance that was satisfying for both of your beings; yet aching for more. Your breath hitched when you've felt the tip of his luscious tongue caress your lips in a way that got the warmth pooling in your stomach turn wild.

You've snapped your eyes open and broke the kiss before it escalated further; hardly pulling away with a faint smooch that got you wanting another.

It was definitely difficult to believe. Before the witcher could even flutter his eyes open, you've timidly puckered; your face boiling in such a high temperature as you reach for his lips, planting another chaste kiss that got Geralt in a small beam that you were blinded with; finding your actions adorable as if you were timid of kissing him.

So, it was real. You've kissed him again and he let you. The feelings were actually true.

He was met with those ingenuous flicker inside your eyes as you stared back at him, a sheepish smile and a coy twinkle of your eyes got him sighing; breathing in your delectable scent and never believing you actually felt the same way, "I am...done leaving people," Geralt breathed through his nose, whispering sweet and soft nothings that got your heart twerking inside your chest.

The latter tenderly leaned his forehead against yours; eyelids shut closed as he deeply murmured. The anger simmering out of the way once he'd gotten to kiss those lips that he wanted to have a taste since the day he'd felt something for you, "---Nor am I done being left by people who are important to me,"

You felt his gentle fingers graze your chin, the dimples of his nose tickling yours; urging for just another harmless kiss that tells you it all isn't a dream you've forged to create.

"Forgive me," he gravelly whispered, hearing your thoughts as to how you wanted to be kissed; though, it was just Geralt and his self that couldn't get enough of you.

The witcher planted another uncluttered kiss to the tips of your vermillion, catching your breath away as you blinked repeatedly to get a hold of yourself when he'd pulled away with a mischievous grin, "I...didn't mean to yell,"

You've bit your lips; trying to fight yourself from squealing hard at what just happened, feeling your toes tickling your bashful heart. You took a glimpse of those amber eyes that held a roguish gaze to it, "You're...You're mean!" was all you managed to say, eyes downcast and your nose scrunched from being utterly cringe; feeling his soft lips still lingering.

Oh dear, you weren't going to sleep without squealing for the next couple of hours.

"I know," his dashing face was filled of remorse. You've given him a blink of surprise, astounded by his sheer admission towards being a big meanie for yelling at you.

A soft narrow of your eyes was the only thing he'd receive and he did the same way, his amber eyes bright and free from pique as he cocked his head to the side, a dubious impression from how you were still giving him that hostile but shy gaze of yours.

"You're still mad," the ivory-haired witcher straightened his back as he stated as a matter of fact with that rough baritone timbre of his voice. You ungracefully cleared your throat for the second time; his gaze heavy on you and it was making your heart turn wild.

"And the night is dark, Geralt." was enough for Geralt of Rivia to trail behind you like a guilty puppy as you hurriedly jogged back to their house; your nose scrunched to the extent as you delicately held onto your lips in which the witcher has kissed; your face burning from the blush that wanted you squealing out loud.

"---Utterly mad." he scoffed to himself as he groaned in regret, rolling his eyes from how you were brushing him aside.

Geralt tailed behind with a frown on his face, "Forgive me, midget." he repeated in a stern but clearer tone, utterly bothered by how you were disregarding him after all he confessed.

The door to their house were sprightly shut closed when Jaskier and Cirilla left the hatch ajar. It was Jaskier's idea to eavesdrop over the both of you and much to say, he'd already awaited for this moment to happen because of the tension that seemed palpable by everyone who surrounded you both.

"That's character development right out there, Cirilla." the bard peeked out of the small opening, watching how Geralt has leaned down to give you the kiss that was bound to happen.

Cirilla moved away from the doorway, an incredulous haze of her eyes as she had her hands on her hips, "I thought Geralt didn't know romance, Bard?"

Jaskier didn't back down from her sassy gestures and also did the same as he began to reason out, standing away from the door way when he'd heard Geralt asking you for forgiveness. The princess of Cintra has a smug look on her face, teasing the bard, "Some people improve when it's been a long time since his heartbreak---Stop judging me like that!"

He'd seen you walk back to the house, a fathomless cringe carving your features which looked like you were constipated as the witcher jogged up from behind, calling you out in the middle of the night. Jaskier was quick to shut the door closed for the second time, hauling an arm around Cirilla as he pulled her wrists till she was crouching with the bard and Kolby, acting like they were playing Knucklebones and not snooping over you and Geralt, "---Also, act like you didn't see them kiss!"

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY WAITING FOR CHAPTER 14 AND 15 NOW. 😂😂 (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, bb. Please do check your settings. 🥰 Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson

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in-one-sockk · 5 years

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1-150 for the asks :3🦋

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? - @when-youcant-sleepat-night2. Are you outgoing or shy? - im bipolar3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? - my pretty girlfriend on my birthday4. Are you easy to get along with? - I don’t know, find out5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? - begrudgingly, she hates vomit6. What kind of people are you attracted to? - butches with nice arms7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? - definitely, we’re at six months!8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? - Frank Iero9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? - not at all10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? - the moon11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? - “meanie”12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? - Make it Right - BTS, Summertime - MCR, bellyache - Billie Eilish, Dilbar - Neka Kakkar, This Is Home - Cavetown

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? - NO I have curly hair and if you touch it or interfere with it it looks like I’ve been dragged through a bush by my ankles14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? - I believe in good and bad karma15. What good thing happened this summer? - I met my girlfriend16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? - yes17. Do you think there is life on other planets? - I think it’d be pretty egotistical to not18. Do you still talk to your first crush? - nahh19. Do you like bubble baths? - I like them, for like five minutes because I need to wash my hair and they get in the way20. Do you like your neighbors? - my neighbours are scared of sunlight21. What are you bad habits? - pulling away because I think I’m a burden22. Where would you like to travel? - Norway, Japan, places with blue seas and flowers23. Do you have trust issues? - I have a narcissistic mother, so yahh24. Favorite part of your daily routine? - getting into bed25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? - my shoulders, they’re broad26. What do you do when you wake up? - die inside 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? - neither, I don’t really think about it28. Who are you most comfortable around? - my girlfriend 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? - a lot of them, but for manipulative reasons30. Do you ever want to get married? only to @when-youcant-sleepat-night31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? - yeah but not a cute one32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? - Brie Larson (short hair) and Erika Linder 33. Spell your name with your chin - nopee34. Do you play sports? What sports? - I used to be a swimmer, and I did trampolining and high jump, but I haven’t done sports in a while35. Would you rather live without TV or music? - TV36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? - nope, I’m quite blunt37. What do you say during awkward silences? - I’m usually the awkward silent one, unless I’m high energy38. Describe your dream girl? - can cook, nice hands, sweet laugh, fairly tall, short hair, strong, patient, likes cuddles, understanding, pretty masculine energied39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? - ASOS Marketplace, thrift shops, Pull&Bear, Urban Outfitters, Run & Fly, Etsy40. What do you want to do after high school? - get married, have kids, be a housewife with a greenhouse and a vegetable garden. Can I do that? Nope. 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? - No, but context. If your partner hits you do they deserve a second chance? No. But you gotta let people learn and grow from their mistakes?42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? - I want attention, I’m sad, scared, suicidal, tired, confused, embarrassed. So really a lot43. Do you smile at strangers? - If I like their energy44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? - I love both of these things but am also terRIFIED of both these things45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? - a better day might come 46. What are you paranoid about? - money and not having enough47. Have you ever been high? - yeahh48. Have you ever been drunk? - too much49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? - yeah but obviously I’m not gonna tell you50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? - Green, my favourite51. Ever wished you were someone else? - a lot of the time52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? - I’d like to have a skill?hobby I could turn into a career I’d enjoy53. Favourite makeup brand? - I dont really have one, but I’ve used the exact same Rimmel London eyeliner since I was 1154. Favourite store? - Etsy55. Favourite blog? - @malnedott has a lot of cute aesthetics56. Favourite colour? - forest green57. Favourite food? - chilli with lots of sour cream (I dont like spicy food)58. Last thing you ate? - a jelly baby59. First thing you ate this morning? - a jelly baby60. Ever won a competition? For what? - I won a competition last month on “who can use the most words beginning with V and create a story that makes sense” 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? - I skipped school for a while when I was depressed62. Been arrested? For what? - nopee63. Ever been in love? - I’m very in love right now64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? - I actually can’t remember it..65. Are you hungry right now? - very, but I’m lazy66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? - I have no tumblr friends, no one talks to me67. Facebook or Twitter? - neither68. Twitter or Tumblr? - Tumblr69. Are you watching tv right now? - nope, I’m on Skype70. Names of your bestfriends? - Non, Maya, Calli (my cat)71. Craving something? What? - a cuddle72. What colour are your towels? - I don’t actually own any72. How many pillows do you sleep with? - two!73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? - a stuffed unicorn and a blanket my girlfriend gave me74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? - seven?75. Favourite animal? - penguin76. What colour is your underwear? - I’m not wearing any 77. Chocolate or Vanilla? - chocolate78. Favourite ice cream flavour? - sherbet!79. What colour shirt are you wearing? - brown ish red??80. What colour pants? - grey with batman logos81. Favourite tv show? - currently Killing Eve82. Favourite movie? - Mamma Mia 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? - we don’t talk about the sequel..84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean Girls (I’ve never seen the other one)85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? - Glenn Coco86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? - The stingray bus87. First person you talked to today? - @when-youcant-sleepat-night88. Last person you talked to today? - my little sister89. Name a person you hate? - Gauge…. my old supervisor at work90. Name a person you love? - my little sister91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? - Eden (my sisters ex who left her suicidal)92. In a fight with someone? - sort of.. a non-resolved ignoring of each other and93. How many sweatpants do you have? - one I think94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? - 495. Last movie you watched? - Jennifer’s Body96. Favourite actress? - Jodie Comer97. Favourite actor? - Rami Malek98. Do you tan a lot? - never99. Have any pets? - two cats and one spawn of satan with a cat face100. How are you feeling? - kinda empty rn101. Do you type fast? - when I’m high energy, but am I skilled at it? nope102. Do you regret anything from your past? - dating that teacher that one time103. Can you spell well? - awkwardly, I can spell complicated words really well, but basic words where multiple of the same letters are next to each other are evil, like, I always think there’s two F’s in professor or one D in address 104. Do you miss anyone from your past? - my old best friend I guess sometimes 105. Ever been to a bonfire party? - no but I’d love to!106. Ever broken someone’s heart? - my mothers maybe107. Have you ever been on a horse? - yes and they’re evil creatures108. What should you be doing? - homework109. Is something irritating you right now? - having to go cook110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? - yes, my girlfriend before we got together111. Do you have trust issues? - isnt this repeated?112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? - my girlfriend113. What was your childhood nickname? - Fifi Forget me not114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? - yes!115. Do you play the Wii? - yes, and hugely beat @when-youcant-sleepat-night at Mario Karts116. Are you listening to music right now? - my sister’s bath music from the next room117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? - I’ve never had it 118. Do you like Chinese food? - not really119. Favourite book? - The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier120. Are you afraid of the dark? - yes..121. Are you mean? - sometimes 122. Is cheating ever okay? - NEVER, especially when you’re Russian and pretend you’re a nice person and constantly talk about how cheating is never okay desPITE doing it to every girlfriend you’ve had123. Can you keep white shoes clean? - no, my converse are basically grey124. Do you believe in love at first sight? - i dont know125. Do you believe in true love? - thoroughly126. Are you currently bored? - a little127. What makes you happy? - flowers128. Would you change your name? - yes, for varying reasons. I dont like mine much, and to hide from some bad people129. What your zodiac sign? - gemini130. Do you like subway? - the food? not really131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? - bluntly make it clear I’m gay132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? - I think this is repeated too133. Favourite lyrics right now? - “I wanna build a place in you, where I can be made new”134. Can you count to one million? - probably not135. Dumbest lie you ever told? - “Of course I know what I’m doing”136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? - my bedroom door closed, wardrobe open137. How tall are you? - 176cm138. Curly or Straight hair? - I have curly hair, but straight hair requires a lot less effort and upkeep139. Brunette or Blonde? - ginger140. Summer or Winter? - autumn141. Night or Day? - night142. Favourite month? - August143. Are you a vegetarian? - no, but I can’t be in my current living situation144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? - none145. Tea or Coffee? - tea, black and cold146. Was today a good day? - no, all the customers decided to buy huge amounts as the store closed. If you do this, you are the worst kind of person and yes, we all thoroughly hate you147. Mars or Snickers? - neither148. What’s your favourite quote? - “They tell you to do your own thing but they don’t mean it. They don’t want you to do your thing, not unless it happens to be their thing, too.”149. Do you believe in ghosts? - no but I believe in bad energies150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? - Lateness fucking noticed, loser bitch

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