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enquiringangel · 11 months

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Ashes, ashes.

Cw: implied character death (maybe), violence, sad lack of actual shippy content, badly written fight scenes, etc.

Summary: Fifteen years after the Valley of the End, they meet again, and Konoha burns.

A/n: So this is a truly ancient w.i.p (as shown by some of my characterisation choices) and truth be told I cannot 100% remember what I was intending to do with it, but knowing myself as I do, I know that I did mean for it to get happier. I was thinking of putting this into hashimadaweek but realise it probably breaks some of the rules, so thought I'd share it now. *shrugs*

Hashirama believed in ghosts. He believed in them like he believed the sun would rise tomorrow morning, or like he believed that the world would one day be a better place. When he drew on nature’s power for his Sage Mode, he felt a vast web of spirit, connections between air and earth and trees, ancient and voiceless and knowing. Every summer he would help his daughter float her paper lantern downstream during O-Bon, and when the past weighed upon him heavily he would retreat to the butsudan at home and say a prayer for his departed loved ones. But he had never seen a ghost in his waking hours.

Until now.

Konoha burned. Smoke billowed up to the heavens, soot-black and thick. Fire ate its way through houses, teashops – entire districts were aflame. Shinobi hurried to and fro, trying to get the civilians to safety, and to fight the fires with as many water techniques as they could muster. A chūnin almost collided with him in mid-air, both of them twisting aside to avoid a collision at the last second. He heard voices behind him calling out “Hokage-sama!” but there was no time to stop; he’d already made sure the Academy had been evacuated, his daughter and the other children led to safety through the tunnels in the mountain.

His wife’s fate was less certain. The supression seal inked on the palm of his hand burned as the fox’s chakra leaked out. No, not leaked – Mito's sealwork was nothing if not thorough. She was releasing its chakra on purpose, which could only mean one thing. Hashirama gritted his teeth and pushed himself to greater speed.

The smoke grew thicker as he reached the epicentre of the carnage, stinging his eyes and burning his throat. The lower levels of the Hokage Residence were wreathed in flame, but a battle still raged on the rooftop. Three familiar figures exchanged blows with one another, the exchange of their blocks and strikes so swift and fluid it almost appeared a dance. Tobirama, Mito, and—

It can’t be.

Roof tiles scattered beneath his feet as Hashirama stumbled to a halt. He couldn’t be seeing this, it wasn’t possible. This was a trick, a genjutsu – a lie. Fifteen years had passed since the night when Madara’s heart’s blood had ran red over his hands, leaving them stained ever after. Fifteen years had passed since he’d killed the closest friend he’d ever known.

And yet there Madara was, a blur of movement that even Tobirama was hard-pressed to keep up with, hair whipping behind him and a savage grin on his face on his face as he snapped his head in Hashirama’s direction. “There you are, Hashirama! It’s about damn time.”

Even in his stupefied state, Hashirama was quick to notice something different. What’s up with his eyes?

Tobirama took advantage of the distraction to try and decapitate him with his short sword; Madara met the blow without taking those foreign lilac-toned eyes off Hashirama, a dull clang sounding as the blade met a black staff held in Madara’s hand. His free hand jabbed at Tobirama’s throat; Hashirama’s younger brother leapt back while Mito leapt forwards, a cloak of Kyuubi’s chakra shimmering around her and distorting the air with heat waves. Madara spun and caught her in the chest with a kick, though not before she snatched hold of his arm and wrenched him off balance. Tobirama dove at his exposed back, going for the kill once more. It should’ve been a killing blow, and one Hashirama was too far to do anything about either way, except that something caught Tobirama’s sword before it could make contact with Madara. Tobirama had just enough time to furrow his brow in confusion before the same unseen force struck him with enough force to throw him straight at Hashirama, who instinctively put his arms out to catch his not-so-little brother. The pair of them skidded way down the slope of the roof before Hashirama managed to cling fast with his chakra.

“What the hell is going on?” he exclaimed more to himself than anyone. “Madara!”

Apparently heedless of Mito’s attempts to reach him, Madara turned to face Hashirama. “I wouldn’t have had it this way, with all these ants in the way,” he said, sneering faintly at Tobirama’s panting form. “I wanted for it to be just us, but I suppose we can’t always have what we want.” He looked annoyed about it.

Behind him, Mito appeared to be having a violent punch up with thin air. As the Senju brothers climbed back up the roof, the invisible enemy uppercut her under the chin, tossing her into the air even as another unseen blow slammed into her stomach and sent her crashing back down. She hit the roof so hard that it cracked. She coughed, blood spraying over her lips, the cloak of fox chakra fizzling out.

“Mito!” both brothers shouted at the exact same moment. Hashirama clenched his jaw until he could taste blood, inhaling shakily through his nose and pressing his palms together. Impossible as it seemed with Madara somehow alive and Mito under attack, he needed to be calmer before he could enter Sage Mode. There was no time for Tobirama to fill him in; Madara was coming right at them. Tobirama vanished in a pulse of hiraishin, reappearing behind Madara’s right shoulder.

The Uchiha turned to face him, expression bored. “You’re getting too predictable,” he commented. “Speed by itself is useless.”

The power of nature flowed into Hashirama, filling him with a powerful awareness of his surroundings. He knew immediately that there were two invisible people on the roof with them, and that both of them were Madara. Somehow, it didn’t matter, they were closing in on Tobirama. “Enough.” Hashirama clamped his hands together in the seal of the snake and the rooftop erupted into a writhing forest, branches snatching at all three of Madara’s presences.

Madara threw his hands out to the sides as if to push them away. The trees were shoved back with such force that several of them were felled and sent crashing down into the rest. Tobirama was also blown back by the mysterious blast, but then as Madara extended a hand towards him, he stopped in midair and went hurtling towards him as if magnetised. Hashirama tried to come to his aid but was prevented from doing so by the sudden appearance of two more invisible Madaras, in addition to the two already lurking about, who had briefly vanished before reappearing to throw themselves at him. He beat and battered them and sent one hurtling into the sky, but he still couldn’t get them out of the way in time to help Tobirama.

Hashirama watched his younger brother fly forwards and straight towards Madara’s hand, just as another long, black staff seemed to grow from his palm. It pierced Tobirama’s armour like it was foil and came out near his left shoulder. The world seemed to slow, everything draining away until all Hashirama could see was his little brother, hanging there impaled. There was a scream. Later, Hashirama would realise that it was his.

Madara let Tobirama drop. He crumpled to the ground and lay unmoving. Madara put his toe on his chest and rolled him out of the way, before looking up to meet Hashirama’s gaze. The ripples of his new eyes were cold and unfamiliar. He smiled tightly. “That was less satisfying than I thought it would be. Anyway. Now they’re out of the way, we can get properly reacquainted. Can’t we, Hashirama?”

The sound of Madara’s words seemed muffled, as if coming from very far away. There was a pounding in his ears, a loud and desperate drum. Its roar consumed him, building and building until a primal battle cry tore from his throat as he called upon his power and his greatest summon.

-x-

Konoha’s Hokage failed in his duty to his people, and fell. Hashirama couldn’t move, though if it were just for his own sake, he wouldn’t even try. He couldn’t do anything, but lie drained among the rubble, gazing up at the ash-flecked sky, feeling very bereft of hope. Madara crouched by his head looking down at him, the entire situation a twisted mirror of the day long ago when his old friend had stopped him from gutting himself and agreed to make a future with him. To make a village with him. A village he had now razed.

Mito lay bound and in unnatural sleep nearby, her chest rising and falling slowly. Why Madara had spared her was not clear, like so much else.

Hashirama licked his dry lips and tasted blood. “I thought…you were dead,” he said hoarsely.

Madara’s mouth turned up at the corners grimly. “Oh, I was. You made sure of that.” His smile slid off his face as quickly as it had appeared. “I got over it.”

“So it would seem,” Hashirama replied dully. He had nothing in him left for a greater reaction, one way or the other. Curiosity seemed distant and unimportant, and his rage had burnt itself out. All that remained was a deep, dark well of grief.

Madara’s hand settled on his cheek, his gloved fingers faintly tacky with blood. “I hold no grudges. It’s what I needed to happen. And without you, none of this would be possible.”

Hashirama glared up at him and tried to sit up, and was rewarded with a fresh surge of pain for the attempt. “Always talking in riddles,” he spat.

“No,” Madara snapped. His hand on Hashirama’s cheek twitched, fingers curling into the skin. “You always fail to catch my meaning. There’s a difference.”

It didn’t seem like it to Hashirama. Everything hurt – his head especially. It was hard to think. He was dying and he had failed, but right now there were at least, two questions that could possibly rouse some interest in him. He rattled them off one after the other, before he could die and forget one of them. “Why did you do this? What do you want with Mito?”

Madara sat back on his heels. “She’s the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi. I came to Konoha to get her.”

“…you destroyed the village so you could get your summon back? That’s pointless,” Hashirama says, managing to inject a note of venom into his voice. “You’re stronger than it.” Definitely now, with those new eyes.

Madara snorted. “I don’t want a pet, Hashirama. I’m starting…a collection of sorts, and I thought it would prudent to collect the kyuubi first, before you could be forewarned of the disappearance of the others. Given that you’re the biggest threat to my plans.”

Plans? Hashirama’s mind cast about, searching for a thought that made sense and latched onto the conversation he had with Madara before the other man had left him, and their village for good. “This is to do with your real dream then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll be dead soon so you won’t find me much of a threat anymore.”

Madara rolled his eyes and slapped Hashirama across the face. The stinging sensation took a moment to reach his notice. He blinked.

“You’re being a sore loser Hashirama,” Madara told him. “Still wallowing in your childish moods. Stop talking nonsense. You’re healing as we speak.”

He was. After so many years of using his medical techniques he could, and did, put them to work without even really thinking about it. He didn’t have enough chakra to make himself fighting fit, but it was keeping him alive. “You’d better kill me quickly then, before I have the strength to do something to stop you.”

“I’d better,” Madara agreed, and stood, with a black staff already in hand. Hashirama twitched. Only a toe moved. Everything else was paralysed, his arms and legs splayed and skewered to the ground by similar weapons. Madara could grow as many of them as he liked from his palms, he had found. Just one of the other man’s many new, mysterious abilities.

For someone who was going to kill him, Madara was taking his time about it, looking down at him with narrowed eyes as if the deciding the most appropriate way to go about it. Hashirama sighed. “You once told me that you would’ve been content to die if I had killed you. I felt the same. Once. I don’t now. I can’t go content now that you’ve…now that you’ve destroyed everything I ever dreamed of. I won’t. So since I must go, I’ll ask that you do me a favour Madara. As my…” he trailed off. Thinking about what they had meant to each other was too painful. “Just get on with it,” he finished, voice flat, eyes soulless.

Madara brought the black rod down like a spear.

It stabbed into the dirt next to his head.

“Contentment isn’t for the dead,” Madara hissed into face. “I will fix this world as you failed to fix it, I will show you where your dream went wrong Hashirama, why you failed, and then I will show you what a real dream looks like. Then you’ll be able to know peace.” He straightened. Hashirama inhaled sharply as the restraints were torn from his wounds by unseen hands. He was manhandled off the ground as Madara stooped down and slung Mito over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

As they left the smoking ruins of Konoha behind them, Hashirama knew he would never know peace again.

#hashimada #madara #hashirama

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netherworldpost · 1 year

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I hired a business consultant with a report delivery of Friday end of day.

Because they are an Actual Professional it came on time and was very thorough and complete.

Because I am a Cartoon Professional I changed my email password immediately after signing the contract so I wouldn't obsess.

Then watched Scooby-Doo for several days, obsessing anyway, until I could no longer take not knowing the results (Sunday morning at 4:17AM)

This covers a 10 year period

RED = MYTHOLOGY (Evil Supply Co. public shop before closing + private practice for mythology clients, which did not close)

BLUE = OTHER STUFF with red removed so I can see what percentage of income is mythology vs. not.

Got a bit of red on me.

In this chart you can see where I had my 2020 traffic accident and the subsequent rebuilding of my life and business practices.

Now let's talk about why I'm making this post. You can tell where I added artwork to this "hide private information" chart because it's bright pink.

I feel like following me on social media is a combination of mythology and benefiting from my investments in business + therapy. Consider this part of the value proposition in following oh stones I can't with the business talk.

atty (me, hi) = cartoon business person doing fun spooky things + occasional thing that is accidentally actually useful = public posting (desire for attention + lightly marketing)

Which is a quick commercial break for our sponsor (hi, it's me, I'm the sponsor on my own post)

netherworldpost.com has the mailing list when the public side of Netherworld Post opens later this year.

Greeting cards, postcards, stickers, zines, stories, rambles. All original art and writing about queer monsters, witches, ghosts, mermaids living in paradise.

Mental and physical therapy... are... continuing... and as they improve I can make stuff faster and get closer to launching

Thanks, back to rambling.

One of the things that has sat heavily in my brain since said traffic accident is a variety of soul haunting "what if?"s

This chart is to showcase the utter irrelevance of this line of thinking -- you cannot change the past -- in hopes of helping me and subsequently you to move on.

One of the biggest things I am trying to unbuckle from my brain is this idea that life is a linear experience with a finite number of resources and opportunities.

My brain has been ground into the position of "I must constantly hustle because every opportunity not maximized is lost forever and is thus one more step closer to irreversible failure. Going slow or stopping to rest = bad."

This is a coldly logical statement that sounds great when you're being punitive to yourself for choices made by you or others.

There is some small truth to it (your daily existence is comprised of 24 hours) but the fundamental and utterly overwhelmingly larger truth underlying is life is not comprised of a straight forward math formula.

Here is a zoom in + direct message summary

Bad thing happens.

Work harder for awhile.

Things resume on the previous path.

Worry over choosing the wrong path is extremely probably corrected over the long term.

Your "what if?" -- my "what if?" -- is irrelevant.

Not just because you cannot change the past. But because continued hard work averages out losses and "non-selected opportunities"

(don't you love that? "non-selected opportunities". This is a new phrase to me. Such a nice way of passing up "I didn't take the objectively better path for reasons.")

I hope you find it helpful!

I hope you sign up on netherworldpost.com which has an auto-merging feature if you've already signed, meaning if you're unsure, sign up again, you won't get duplicate emails in a few months when we launch!

Thank you, it's time for coffee, I have spent 5+ hours reading this damn thing and making this post

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myrfing · 11 months

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6.4 msq spoiler thread

YES! YES....ZERO GOURD FEAST BEASTS

i need this buff PERMANENTLY

ESTINIEN

MAN WHAT

HURLING

DIDNT NEED TO SEE THAT

ZERO LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yshtola is so good at indirectly cheering people up in that shrewd old lady way. not that she's old just well matoya

I like how they put pen and paper in estinien's room like he's literate

dragons are always wanting to pop out their eyeballs

erenville are you...? the golled more...? can i go with you..

can we kiss

god he appeared on screen and SORRY vrtra but i need him to continue and tell me about his life and I need to go with him

now they're blueballing us about a mysterious letter

i like how zero's just been there like well I guess you know everybody on earth then

margrat. i need more of her bizarre behaviors

i forgort

thancred calling it "social struggles" YOU GUYS ARE MAKING THIS AWKWARD FOR ZEROOOO

these drake ass polar bears

the aetherfont is sooo gorgeous also I forgot my codex broke and nearly let thancred die. long time since ive healed a trust party as well but we go slow smell the ice bears

oh my god :U

thancred: just stick stay close to this one

gourd: slowly turning head with his o_o frontal bird face

they just let thancred tag along just beacause. not to be mean but we could also just meet new people

U Guys Are Leaving Gourd OUt of the Conversation Hinting At Something Happening To Come What The Hell So He Doesn't Get Alone Time And You Guys Are Getting Jobs Without Him Anyway

zero voice Idgaf about that

can the garleans get over their magic fear already you live in a world where there are glowing horses

damn that's crazy

msq is always very strangely gentle and thorough relative to others when it comes to dealing with garlean trauma or maybe thats just my hater lens. anyway the whole they are bigoted and small minded because they'd been hurt stuff is getting old and it's kind of crazy how this hurt people hurt people stuff is the limit here

trust me i dont really want 2

a weird bit about the whole garlemald thing is the bizarre angelic benevolence of the ilsabard contingent. not ONE person has been like you know you guys spent the past half century fucking up the entire world and you still demand respect for your gay ass tower because the imperial family sat their asses in it. anyway i have problems with the whole we're actually a totally 100% saintlike patience goodhearted pure intentioned foreign aid group thing We Have To Save The People Of Garlemald on the side of the alliance since the start but whatever

warmachina.

i dont want the thank you from this man LMFAO

zerooo 8[ also so much of what zero recounts explains. Cylva.

aw that's true jullus

LMFAOOOOO THEYRE MAKING THE WOL THINK OF ZENOS BECAUSE OF THIS CONVO? gourd did NOT trust that man unless you mean trust him to be awful. and what did zenos trust in the wol that he'd fight him eventually? I GUESS? MAYBE THEY MEANT HE WANTED TO TRUST US BUT I ALSO DO NOT CARE?

we're not friends just because someone calls you their friend 29083902 times 💀 i think that dude barely had a concept of gourd as a human being with his own life

an act of trade also can be an act of charity. THIS IS WHAT I MEAN THEIR POLITICAL WRITING IS SOMETIMES SO.....garlemald is still absolutely at the alliance's mercy + they still obviously believe in right by might re: that one line from the old dudes so there's no reason for them to not be cognizant of the fact we can just take by force and doesn't handle the hanging But Why Aren't They? question at all. this was a pity deal and everyone's like friendship and hope <3. im not saying goodwill and sincerity cannot exist between groups but this requires a sense of solidarity that we do NOT have with garlemald considering we still have to step entirely around the subject of their imperial affairs

you see as a nation they're not equals. they're the languishing half dead scattering remnant of an empire that built its wealth and prosperity for a time on war, theft, and enslavement of the rest of the world and radz and the alliance absolutely could just turn the tables and invade and probably just wipe out everyone here without breaking a sweat. of course that's abhorrent but it's crazy that THIS particular pain even the mere thought of it is made to not exist while the garleans get to be complicated about it. they want to keep their national name and pride with none of the consequences and we don't even demand that as if a nation is sacred and untouchable even after everything. I don't get it bro

i like the way varshahn says wyrm

THE LITTLE SQUICH SOUND WHEN I TAKE HER EYE?

glitter guy....

#ffxiv #6.4 spoilers

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toloveawarlord · 2 years

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Pairing: Silvio x MC

Event: Summer Lovin’

Request: Anon; Smut #64 “I never knew someone could cum that fast just from a few fingers.”

cw: 18+ Smut; fingering; semi-public

wc: 500

a.n: Silvio will be simp and you cannot convince me otherwise.

[this event is closed]

It had become increasingly harder to balance her time between her duties as the Belle and finding opportunities alone with her demanding lover. Emma found herself nodding off during Sariel's lessons and forgetting everyday tasks. Truly, it was becoming a problem.

But...

"I never knew anyone could cum that fast just from a few fingers."

Emma tried to control her voice, lest anyone passing overheard. How would she explain being half undressed in a hidden corner with the first prince of Benitoite fingering her to an orgasm? Her eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed through her slick folds, lips sucking on her neck.

"Silvio-" It was hard to think at all. Her head swam with pleasure, wanting to fall further into his grasp.

And Silvio simply ate up her reaction. "Let's see that again, shall we?" Three fingers dipped back into her dripping pussy, curling into her sensitive spot. The bulge in his pants rubbed against her ass, but he'd wait.

After all, he liked to watch Emma cum from just his hand.

Emma rose onto the tips of her toes, hands braced against the wall in front of her. His brash behavior in public didn't spill over into their private life. Silvio was gentle, thorough. He worked her body like a musician playing a love ballad. "Oh my god- don't stop-"

As if he ever would. Silvio wouldn't rest until his woman was an utter mess. A sight that only he was allowed to behold. "That's it. Cum again for me." He kept an even pace, pressing kisses to her bare shoulder. The prince was beginning to become comfortable with Emma.

Sweet curses passed her lips, knees threatening to give out. Coming down from her high, she was simply putty in his hands. Spun around, back now pressed against the wall, Emma gazed up at him with hazy vision. "Kiss me. I want you to-"

Silvio needed no more invitation. He adored her taste. His tongue slipped past her lips, deepening the kiss.

Her arms settled around his neck, fingers entangling in his soft hair at the nape of his neck. It had taken some time for Silvio to accept her touch in such sensual places. It only showed how deep his feelings had grown for her, even if he hardly admitted it with words.

"Bedroom-" Emma tried between desperate kisses to speak. "Silvio-" The longer they lingered in this hallway, the more likely that someone would discover them.

"Do you really think we can make it that far?" Silvio traced his fingers over her thigh, tempted to rip the skirt up to her hip, to expose her skin and take her right here. He could talk his way out of anything should any servant or maid interfere.

Emma nodded her head. "If we run really fast, I think we can." It wasn't that she wanted to wait. God, she did not want to wait to feel him inside her. Her palm rested against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath his shirt. "We can do that thing you like."

Her squeal nearly gave them away as Silvio took her hand and towed her after him, grin plastered on his lips. "I won't let you forget that you suggested it." He was delighted to be able to indulge in an act so sinful but so damn pleasurable.

And the next few days, they would feign innocence in the rumor that someone was heard stomping through the hallways with snickers and giggles, like a joyful ghost.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #smut #ikemen prince smut #summer lovin event

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smirk47 · 2 years

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“You think that one can have one’s emotions for nothing. One cannot. Even the finest and most self-sacrificing emotions have to be paid for. Strangely enough, that is what makes them fine.” – Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

Shows up to the @pasitheapowder April Hiatus Book Club FULLY a month late and with zero Starbucks:

Soup of Feelings(TM) is CORRECT. Damn.

I had a frustratingly busy month and it has taken me until now to actually sit down and fully read De Profundis. I finally finished it today, and I just want to say that I am deeply thankful to Jackie and Molly for making me aware of its existence and giving me a good reason to read it now.

I honestly cannot remember if I ever learned about Wilde’s trial and imprisonment before. If so, it was only in the vaguest sense. Most of how I thought of Wilde before this was based on my love of Importance of Being Earnest and Dorian Gray - both of which I read about 20 years ago (and which I now VERY much need to re-read, both in light of what I now know about Wilde AND in light of the fact that I am a very different person now). I knew he was witty and hilarious and cutting and that he made me laugh and his work felt surprisingly modern when I read it in high school. I was far enough from realizing my own queerness that I’m not even sure his queerness truly registered with me. Learning about this part of his life - and death - and getting to read about it in his own words feels like finding a lost puzzle piece in queer history and literature that I didn’t even know I was missing.

Uh, I could ramble extensively about my thoughts and feelings about all this (and about the passages you guys quoted, which are essentially the same ones I had bookmarked while reading as well. Oscar Wilde was real fucking good at words, guys. Who knew!?) but in the interest of brevity (pfft. Yeah right. I suck at brevity.), here’s some random thoughts:

You absolutely covered this, but the moment that really shifted my whole understanding of the letter was when, after FIFTY FULL PAGES of describing every way Bosie was the WORST and had RUINED him, Wilde – in the midst of yet another rant, asks simply: “Why did you not write to me?” THIS. Holy shit. I literally had to stop and read that out loud to my friend when I first got to it. What a crystal clear moment of understanding. That really truly is what the entire ~120 pg letter boils down to in the end. In the face of suffering and public shaming BECAUSE of this relationship, and in the complete absence of any direct communication from Bosie, how easy it is to see why Wilde would change his tune so drastically from the way he wrote to Bosie before prison. How understandable that his thoughts would turn over and over again to all the worst parts of their relationship and hold them up in exhausting detail as a shield against missing this person who has caused such pain. And still, despite that literal, exhaustive laundry list of grievances, he can’t stop himself from essentially saying: I miss you. Where are you? Why are you not here for me. It is so simple and so deeply, heartbreakingly relatable.

Very much appreciated the background you guys gave about Robbie Ross and Bosie – I didn’t know most of what happened after Wilde’s death! Bosie especially was kind of a big question mark for me as I was reading, because this is such a one-sided account, and I knew so little about him otherwise. Reading between the lines, I do have a lot of sympathy for him, and I do believe he loved Wilde deeply. And like, I am SURE Wilde was not always picnic to date either. But uh … big ol’ YIKES about Bosie’s politics. Oof. Why dude. Why?

Holy shit, I’m not sure anyone could have possibly scripted a more fucking ironic or dramatic way for Bosie to finally learn what Oscar wrote. My. God. The Drama. The Messiness. BRUTAL is exactly right. Because yeah: as much as the letter seems to be an extremely accurate (and thorough!) accounting of Wilde’s feelings about Bosie and his memories of what really happened WHEN HE WROTE IT, it was also coming from such a place of pain and bitterness and shame and longing. And it is MEAN even though it is also ultimately somewhat forgiving. And I’m sure a lot of it is true, but I’m also sure a lot of it is unfair. And dear god, if any of that shit were directed at me from someone I cared about in a letter I was reading IN PRIVATE I would fucking crumble. Cannot even begin to conceive of how you would recover from hearing it for the first time in court of all places.

What a fucking ride. How amazing to have this window into the thoughts and actions and feelings of THIS person at THIS point in their life. How amazing to think of how much has changed since then, and how horrifying to think of how much has barely changed at all.

#the pasithea powder #hiatus book club #is fucking awesome #I can't wait to re-read Wilde's works now that I've read this #and I also can't wait to re-listen to Pasithea with all these references and all this context in mind #long post

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waitingformyfavoritesongs · 1 year

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2:01 am pdt 26 November 2022 Saturday

🪐

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https://christianityfaq.com/was-jesus-perfect-and-why-it-matters/

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https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends/tattooed-priestesses-hathor-001122

still reading 📖 this (& the other link). I read a similar one this year.

2:30 am pdt 26 November 2022 Saturday 🪐

6:06 am pdt I’m upset 27 November 2022 I left this open to add stuff - probably 24+ hours 0_o. Minutes ago Added stuff but it didn’t save even though it has automatic saving feature. I have to start all over again. Read webtoons hooves of death ☠️ Sam Bragg, sirens 🚨 lament instant miso & tangent.. something, toy story sequel from 2010 ( in movie theaters 🎭 @ the time). I’m damned either way. Woody the 🪵 wood pecker. The floor is lava. Volcano 🌋 6:13 6:15am pdt

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6:28 am pdt Also found a new comic before 6am pdt. I guess it’s a sign 🪧 I’m going to die soon. Lucky 🍀 me.

https://m.webtoons.com/en/comedy/bad-signs/list?title_no=1623

6:30 am pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday 🌞 ☀️ = sol? Is this my this my solmate? Soul sole solimente Solomon = autocorrect. Anderson. 6:33 am pdt.

7:09 am pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday ☀️

if fairytales 🧚🏽‍♀️ aren’t full of sh*t (pay phone ☎️ 🎶🎵) then how would we know we aren’t seeing what’s not really there? Holograms, hallucinations, mirages, Et cetera? He’s got to be good looking because he’s so hard to see 🎵🎶 Beatles?? Princesses 👸🏻 and the worn out dancing 💃 shoes 👠 Grimm fairytales 🧚🏽‍♀️ 50 times hotter in person??? @_@ how would I know even if I saw him in person if my eyes 👀 have been messed with to deceive me??? 7:19 am pdt see/sea 🌊 season evergreen 🌲 silver creek. 😭😞😖😫😭😤🥵😵 7:22 am pdt strange monogatari 7:23 am pdt

9:29 am pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday ☀️

youtube

I wish I could go somewhere with my family where they can’t touch us. 😭 he’s going to do whatever he wants which is hurt me, f*ck other women.

blurry. 9:33 am pdt. 🦩🦚🐓🦜🦃🕊🦤 9:34 am pdt 9:35 am pdt he likes 2 rub it n my face.

saw this online ths year? Thru apple news app 📰 🗞?? I found it again thru ecosia.org ??

ive seen people use “gate” with things I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ what that means. Now that I’ve seen that “whisper sweet nothings “ to a butt line for than a month I realized that this is very seductive & it’s not as bad (referring 2 an article title - labeling his sexting as kinda lame? What he did was still BAD - bad dog 🐶! Bad boy! Bad man!! 🤬😡6:13 pm pdt) as people initially think it is. He’s basically preying on very innocent minded women. Sliding in slyly with something that can b interpreted as humorous 😭😭😭😭😭😵😵😵😵😩😖😖😖😖😖😖😖🤬 & prob tricks us into our comfort zones. If he were to literally act this out, it would literally possiblyprolong titillation, draw out to thorough foreplay! It serve to become “pussygate” 🤬 bcz of its proximity to” the devil” to make out with. 🤬😡 10:06 am pdt it is in disguise 🥸. I have to imagine it to contemplate it’s potential? He’s a dog! 10:08 am pdt 🐶

10:54 am pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday

11:39 am pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday

Making out with hot guys is the worst. Funny it’s a guy asking. Tell me lies tell me sweet little lies 🎼

youtube

It’s only okay for them not us. He won’t say that out loud tho. Don’t count on him to be honest. Why would he really share like a nicolatian unless he didn’t want them anymore ?

12:03 pm pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday ☀️

youtube

looks like they had real s*x in the video .... why didn’t he marry her??

12:14 pm pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday

12:20 pm pdt 27 November 2022 incubus likes to psychologically torture me with things I cannot have Bcz he won’t allow me to have it. But he does whatever he wants. I don’t think it’s a good idea to have more than one baby daddy, but what can you do if the first one is a bad ass? Is marriage a trap for women? Is having sex with a man too soon a trap , too?! YES !! Don’t forget that!!!

12:24 pm pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday

12:29 pm pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday

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12:31 pm pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday

12:39 pm pdt tbh I think I would like to date someone (a man) up to 5 years younger (35 years old) than me. But that’s where I draw the line . & probably 1 or 2 or 3 years older than me (up to 41 years old). 12:41 pm pdt. Anyone who is rich I’d have to wonder if they sold their soul to the devil 👿 ... 🤷🏻‍♀️ 12:43 pm pdt you know Taken, Liam neeson. Why does anyone hoard money 💰? 12:44 pm pdt. Edited this part 1:35 pm pdt - to be clear about age range. When I was 18 I was interested in someone/a man 👨 5 years older than me. But now I’m older I 🔼 my mind. 1:38 pm pdt 27 November 2022 Sunday.

#Instagram #Youtube

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that-innovating-artist · 2 years

Text

TITH || Chapter Two: Vecna’s Curse

Synopsis: After an adult woman and a High School student are mysteriously killed and Eddie goes missing, Dustin, Lydia, Max, Robin, and Steve search to find the scrappy DnD player. In the meantime, Lydia struggles to cope with the death of her mother. | Total number of words: 1.9k.

Navigation Key: §§§ = continuing from previous scene; still takes place in the same location. ☆☆☆ = location change. (The place will be stated.) ~~~ = POV shifts.

~ OFFICIALLY PROOFREAD! ~

**Please do not transfer or translate my writings anywhere! However, you may Repost, as that would help me out a lot!**

Hawkins, Indiana • Forest Hills Trailer Park [Zonoff Trailer]

March 22nd, 1986

Fright. Fright was all I felt as I watched the paramedics drape a white cloth over my mother’s body and in a morgue bag. Officer Callahan was questioning me, but my mind was somewhere else. I barely responded to his questions as I witnessed my mother being transported to the local coroner’s office. I was in too much shock to even budge a muscle. “You said you came home last night and found her on the living room floor?” He queried, trying to look me in the eye. I nodded mutely.

“Did you see anything out of the ordinary? Maybe a weapon of some sort? Maybe a trail of blood somewhere in the house?”

“N-no,” I uttered quietly. “I-I just f-found her. I didn’t see or hear anything.”

The homicide detectives scoured the area where her body once lay mutilated. Some of them were executing forensic tests, such as dusting the spots where they thought someone would have intruded. The noise of Polaroid cameras snapping photos quickly became a nuisance to me, and I shouted, “Turn those damn cameras fucking off! Get out of my trailer, all of you!”

“Excuse me, Miss Zonoff! Outside, now!” Officer Callahan ordered. I huffed angrily, calculatedly walking through some detectives’ work and stomping my way out into the night. A few minutes later, the sound of the screen door opening sounded.

“Miss Zonoff, we found something you might want,” a detective said, approaching me with a photo in his hand. I took it from him and analyzed it. It was of my mother, heavily pregnant, with a blonde man bending down on one knee and kissing her swollen belly. My heart stopped.

@danni-fangirldoodles

“I am truly sorry about your loss, Miss Zonoff. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now and what’s coming. We’ll catch the killer and deliver justice for your mother. I promise. However, we need your permission to do a more thorough search of the trailer and anything else that appears during this case.”

He pulled out a clipboard with a paper asking me for my signature. It read:

I, Lydia C. Zonoff, grant the Hawkins Police Department permission to investigate with authorization to search any items within the vicinity. I understand I am giving my full consent and that the Police Department cannot be held liable for any trespassing violations that include (and would otherwise be called a felony to other persons outside of authority): breaking/ entering, removing objects, and taking pictures of the exterior and interior of the said living quarters for factual, straightforward utilization of this case for any court proceedings that may and will occur.

SIGNATURE

_______________

DATE

_______________

I signed it, my uncontrollable tears staining the artificial wood. I wanted to dig a fucking hole and die in it. “Miss, if you’d like, you can go and retrieve some things.” He said warmly.

To that I said yes, carrying the photo with me, and collected my stuff from my room. While I was still in initial shock, my mind was processing the photo I had grasped in my hand. I kept asking myself over and over again; who is that blonde man?

“Ma’am, do you have somewhere you can spend the night tonight?”

I nodded, feeling humiliated from crying so much in front of these people. “I don’t drive,” I said quietly as I went back outside and listened to the symphony of crickets chirping.

“One of the officers can drive you,” he suggested, but I turned him down.

“No. I’m riding my bike. I’m leaving now. Please leave me alone, sir. I need to be alone.” With that, I snatched my bike and rode off into the shadows towards Steve Harrington’s house.

☆☆☆

Hawkins, Indiana • Outside the Harrington Household

The wheels skidded to a halt as I parked the bike in the driveway, numbly walked over to the door, and rang the doorbell rapidly.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve said, blinking and yawning as the door opened. He fondled his eyes and they grew broad as he noticed me. “Lia?” He asked, opening more of the portico. “Lia, is everything okay?”

I was a sobbing mess and couldn’t speak, so he gently ushered me inside and whispered ameliorating statements like a mother would do when her child woke up from a nightmare in distress as he led me to the living room and settled me on the brown leather sofa. “You don’t have to say anything right now, Lia. Just rest. I’m here for you. You’re safe with me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Morning arrived quickly. I barely slept. The vision of walking into the living room and seeing my mother incapacitated like that kept reappearing in my consciousness every time I tried to close my eyes.

“Yeah. You guys need to get over here,” the distant voice of Steve said. “She’s a wreck. I don’t know what happened or what to do, but something’s definitely not right. She came to my house at one in the morning completely distraught and she looked so fucking traumatized. God, I feel so bad for her.”

I was laying on the couch with my head buried in a pillow stained with tear drops. I sniffled, rubbing my nose with my knuckles.

“No, Nance, you’re- you’re not listening to me. Just get everyone, okay? We can talk about Chrissy’s murder when you get here. Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

Footsteps resounded from the hallway and my body spasmed in another jolt of crying. “Hey Lia?” A gentle prod at my side caused me to flinch as I convulsed upwards, instinctively covering myself, but Steve immediately said, “Woah, woah, woah. It’s just me. It’s just me.”

My eyes were bloated, and crumpled tissues lay scattered about the brown carpet. “Steve?” I whispered, my mind instantly firing up.

“Yeah, kid. It’s me.”

My body relaxed at that but simultaneously tensed as I covered my head on my knees, rocking back and forth pathetically, more cries racking my body. “I’m so sorry,” I said, the realization of what happened the night before dawning on me. “My M-Mom, she- she-”

“She what?” Steve asked quietly, joining me on the sofa. “Lydia, what’s wrong?”

“My mother was killed!” I shrieked, flailing my legs. I curled up in the fetal position once more. “I found her last night! She- she-” in anguish I screamed and screamed into Steve’s shoulder until I could no longer find my voice. “She’s gone… my Mama, she’s- she’s gone… no, no, no, no.” I said hoarsely, coughing.

“Oh, my God,” Steve muttered. “I’m so sorry, Lydia. I’m so sorry.” He held me, his hand ruffling my hair in an attempt to soothe me. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

“Chrissy was found dead in Eddie’s trailer this morning,” Nancy began. I stayed silent, my eyes watering lightly as I leaned into Steve’s chest. “Max said something happened earlier that night before she was killed. Max? Do you want to share what you saw?”

The redhead cleared her throat, shifting her feet.“The lights in my trailer started to flicker like crazy but the trailer with the most lights flickering was in Lydia’s.”

My head shot up at the mention of my name, and I instantly said, “My mother was by herself. I found her body when I got home. D- did you see her?”

Max shook her head, and I leaned forward, sniffling.

“But I saw Eddie run to his van. I heard him screaming. The lights were flashing at his trailer, too.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Dustin chimed in. “And there’s no way in Hell Eddie killed Chrissy, regardless of what the cops may assume. That’s not in his nature.”

“But why did he run, Dustin?” Max quarreled. “He looked terrified. Maybe he was scared that he just killed someone?”

“No, that’s not it,” Dustin replied. “What if he saw something? What if he was at the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Robin said, heading to the door. She spun around quickly. “Dustin, you said Eddie gets his drugs from a guy named Reefer Rick?”

The curly haired boy nodded.

Robin smirked. “I have a hunch.”

☆☆☆

Hawkins, Indiana • Inside Family Video [Downtown]

After Nancy parked the station wagon outside of Family Video, Robin and Steve opened the door to the building. I was last to file in. I mindlessly hid behind Nancy, and she lifted her arm for me to lean into her shoulder. “It’s okay, Lia. We’re here,” she murmured softly.

“So, we have two options,” Robin began, signing into the computer. “We can search movie rentals by the name Rick, or we can manually search by going door to door.”

“Let’s not add time,” Nancy interjected. “We need to find Eddie before Jason does. We all know he’ll be looking for him with intent of murder once he finds out Chrissy was at his trailer and was killed there.”

“You can say that again,” I mumbled. “That dick doesn’t know his elbow from his ass.”

Dustin snorted, holding in a laugh. Max giggled a bit, too. They all know about Jason and I’s rivalry, so it was nothing new to them when I enunciated degrading remarks about the basketball player.

“Cheech and Chong. Now that sounds like a drug dealer.” Robin countered.

“What’s the address and person’s name?” I asked.

“Rick Lipton. 2121 Holland Drive.”

“That’s the middle of nowhere,” Dustin butted in.

Robin nodded. “The perfect place to hide.”

☆☆☆

Hawkins, Indiana • Outside of Rick Lipton’s Household

“Eddie! Eddie!” Dustin shouted, banging on the door. “It’s me, Dustin!” He rang the doorbell rapidly.

“He’s not here, Dustin,” Steve said.

“Maybe we scared him off? Got spooked and ran?” Robin wondered.

The moonlight cast a creepy glow against the grass as I scanned the area. A vandalized steel boat house stood at a looming height surrounded by tall, secluded trees. I glanced at Max, who met my gaze. I looked back at them. “Hey, guys,” I said. Dustin spun around. I curved my flashlight to the building. “What if he’s in there?”

We all left the porch and entered the boat house. I shivered as the cold air bathed my skin, trying to search for clues. Steve touched the boat that stayed above ground level and the sound of trickling water echoed throughout the space.

We all left the porch and entered the boathouse. I shivered as the cold air bathed my skin, trying to search for clues. Steve touched the boat that stayed above ground level and the sound of trickling water echoed throughout the space.

“What’re you doing?” Dustin asked, as Steve attacked the tarp with an oar.

“What if he’s in here?”

“Then take the tarp off! If you’re so brave, why don’t you?”

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dustin, considering the fact all of us has nearly died a thousand times-”

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dustin, considering the fact all of us have nearly died a thousand times-”

Suddenly, someone rose behind Steve and assaulted him, shoving him against the wall. “Woah, woah, woah! Hey, hey, hey!” Steve exclaimed, eyes widening.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

The Munson boy seemed to hear Dustin’s voice, as he glanced our way. My heart fell. He looked terrified. “Eddie, this is Steve. He’s with us. Tell him, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve nodded hastily.

Eddie was holding Steve with a broken alcohol bottle, and by judging the sharpness of it, he could easily slit Steve’s throat if he wanted to.

“We just wanna talk.”

§§§

“My Mom, she- she was killed,” I whispered. I glanced down at my feet, my eyes watering. “I- I don’t know what to do now.” I bit my lip to where I could taste the iron coating of blood. Eddie must’ve seen how upset I looked, and moments later I felt his muscular arms encapsulate me as I cried away my sorrows…

@danni-fangirldoodles

#Duffer Brothers #Hawkins Indiana #Lydia Zonoff #My writing #Netflix Original Series #Netflix #Stranger Things 4 #Writers on Tumblr

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

"I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met." memory loss angst? 👉👈🥺

anon... fam, this turned into an emotional rollercoaster and totally stole my braincell.

3.8k words. angst with a happy ending.

tw: memory loss, minor anxiety, repressed memories, idiots to lovers, whump, angst with a happy ending, angst with a fluffy ending

---

It’s been three hours, five minutes, and forty-two seconds since the frigid breeze whipped Geralt’s angry words at him, shattering his fragile, stupid heart to pieces. Every syllable rings through Jaskier’s head over and over, slamming into him from all directions and crippling him with a bone-deep pain far worse than anything he’s ever felt before. The ache ebbs and flows, lancing through him with every step. Not even Geralt’s first frustrated blow to his abdomen had been this terrible.

Geralt… That’s the problem, isn’t it? He hadn’t been smart enough to get out of the gorgeous Witcher’s long, silvery hair soon enough. He’d overstayed his welcome, fallen in love in the meantime, and is now very out of sorts (and also alone in unfamiliar territory). The bard laughs but it’s a hollow sound. Jaskier has reached the edge of hysteria, his intelligent blue eyes now vacant and unseeing. Even as he stumbles through the underbrush, all he can picture is the snarl on Geralt’s face as the Witcher yells at Destiny to take Jaskier off his hands.

Jaskier’s own hands are covered in sap and splinters from pushing tree branches away from his face as he traverses the darkening forest. His hair is full of debris and his clothes are torn and dirty; Geralt has all of his emergency supplies, still. Jaskier is pretty sure that his lute is still strapped over his shoulder but he realizes, with no small amount of surprise, that he doesn’t actually care.

He doesn’t have the capacity anymore.

He can’t care… caring hurts too much.

If only Destiny had taken him off Geralt’s hands. Maybe then it would be okay. Maybe then, if Geralt was well and truly free of him and his irritating presence, the Witcher could be happy. He and Yennefer will surely come back around, they always seem to, and Ciri will be joining them soon enough it seems.

There’s no need - no room - for a humble bard anymore.

Only five hours, thirty minutes, and twelve seconds after Geralt’s outburst at the top of the mountain, Jaskier’s delicate human body succumbs to the stress of the day.

He drops to the forest floor without a sound, grateful for the darkness.

---

Yennefer finds the bard in a heap a few miles away from the previous night’s elevated campsite. When she presses the back of her hand to his forehead she yanks it away almost immediately; he’s burning up, and his skin is clammy and sticky with sweat. The feathery bangs he flicks about and preens so much are stuck to his forehead and temples. He’s on the verge of shaking apart and Yennefer tosses her head imperiously, swearing.

“Damnit, Geralt. You and your incredibly foolish need to be alone all the time so you can brood and self-flagellate. Me, an ageless sorceress from one of the greatest magic schools on the Continent? I can handle a thorough tongue lashing. Fuck, I’m older than you and I’ve seen far worse but this… oh, you great lummox. You absolute bastard…” Yennefer mutters to herself as she assesses the bard’s deteriorating state of health, ranting to an invisible Geralt all the while. “You’re absolutely going to be hearing from me about this, Wolf.”

--- Three days, one hour, and fifteen minutes after Geralt dismissed him forever, Jaskier wakes up with a loud gasp and a violent shudder. He blinks slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in through a window. Whatever he’s lying on is comfortable and the sheets smell fresh and bright, like lilac and freesia. A hint of gooseberry lies beneath it all, delicate and sweet. He glances around the space and finds it to be relatively bare; a guest room, perhaps. Maybe he’s a servant at some noble house?

Jaskier only really knows that his name is Jaskier and that he plays music. He’s also rather talented with floral arrangements.

Shortly after he’s finished purveying his (borrowed?) chamber, the very image of grace, beauty, and terror enters the room. The woman, whose coppery skin and enchanting violet eyes practically glow in the midafternoon sun, smiles down at him in a way that toes the line between Motherly and Shark-like.

“How are you feeling, Jaskier?”

“I’m alright. And you?”

“Just fine. Geralt really did a number on us, huh?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. He has the feeling that something isn’t right; she shouldn’t be looking at him so kindly.

Her expression changes from friendly to horrified to confused in an instant, as soon as Jaskier manages to ask: “Who’s Geralt? And, pardon me, but I feel as if something is rather amiss. Who are you, my Lady?”

Whoever the gorgeous and terrifying woman is, she grimaces briefly. Then, as if by magic, the comforting smile returns. “I’m Yennefer, of course. I saved your life a few years ago, remember?”

Jaskier wracks his brain but cannot call the occasion to mind. “Unfortunately no, I don’t remember your no doubt heroic deed. Although I suppose that means I’m in your debt, doesn’t it? Do I work for you? Is that why I’m here?”

The woman blinks a few times, slowly, and then nods. “You’re my gardener and personal musician.”

Jaskier brightens, happy to have found himself in a safe environment.

“But you’ve had a nasty illness and your mind is clearly fatigued. Rest another day or two and then we can see about getting you back into the fresh air.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Jaskier nods.

“Yen is fine.”

“Thank you, Yen. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he grins.

---

Yennefer turns away to hide her pained expression. You’d probably still be with your beloved Witcher.

She makes her way to the kitchen to fix Jaskier something to eat. He must be hungry after spending three days in a deep, healing sleep. She hadn’t been expecting the amnesia, though; it was an unexpected but not unsurprising turn of events. Heartbreak had done stranger things than a little bit of fever-induced memory loss. When she’d delved briefly into his mind she hadn’t seen any sign of Geralt. His face was absent from the bard’s consciousness; she would have needed to dig to unearth those memories. Whatever the Witcher had done was grievous, especially if Jaskier’s mind compensated with something as dramatic as burying Geralt completely to save itself from further harm.

No matter, she decides, the bard can stay here as long as he likes. It’s the least I can do for all the upset Geralt and I have caused him. Where is that idiot Witcher, anyway?

The sorceress quickly clears her agenda and her mind before returning to her guest room with a large tray of food, a bottle of Toussainti red under her arm. “Jaskier, darling, let’s get your convalescence started in style!”

---

2 months later

---

Jaskier watches a strange man ride up the long path to Yennefer’s manor, the hilts of his twin swords glinting in the sun where they’re slung over his shoulder. He has long white hair and the most devastating jawline the bard/gardener (or ‘bardener’ as he says to irritate his darling employer) has ever laid eyes on. He’s clad all in black, from his plain linen shirt to his tight leather trousers; Jaskier thinks he’d also look rather lovely in dark blue or perhaps forest green.

In front of him, wrapped securely against his chest by one strong arm, sits a little girl with ashen hair and frightened eyes. Haunted eyes. Jaskier’s mind fills with ballads, some familiar and some oddly dreamlike, their lyrics half-obscured and hazy. Ciri, he thinks for no reason. Her name is Ciri. And she is a Princess.

The brunette scurries from the garden alongside the house to the kitchen, searching for the familiar cloud of Yennefer’s strong perfume. “My Lady?”

“Darling?” the sorceress replies, coming around the corner. She raises her perfectly maintained eyebrows and her lips quirk up into a smirk. “Did you sprint all the way from the west lawn?”

“There’s a- strange man- on the- drive!” he huffs. “White hair- horse!”

“Oh,” her eyes go wide with surprise. Then, in a split second, they narrow to slits. “Oh.”

“Do you, uhm, know him?” Jaskier asks, twiddling his fingers. “He’s rather handsome, Yen. Is he a former lover?”

“Unfortunately,” she growls. “I can’t believe it’s taken him two fucking months to get here. He’d better have a damned good excuse.”

By now Jaskier can breathe normally again and he straightens up, shaking his long, shaggy hair from his eyes. “He had a child with him. She looked scared, Yen.”

“Cirilla!”

Yennefer dashes for the front door and Jaskier follows instinctually. They’re always together and he can’t bear to let her confront this man alone. He’s spent every waking moment with Yen since he awoke that first day and she has grown to be his dearest friend; he’ll protect her even unto death. “Yenna, what’s wrong? Who is he!?”

“Geralt of Rivia,” she snarls. The name seems familiar; maybe from a ballad or story? Perhaps Yen has mentioned him before?

“What about Geralt of Rivia?” a low, rumbling bass asks from the front hallway. Jaskier and Yennefer arrive in the doorway together and the man, Geralt apparently, takes a shaky step back. He recoils a bit, as if he’s been slapped, and Yennefer’s smile grows cruel. His voice, still incredibly low but now with a slight tremor to it, stutters out; “Wha- Yen, what is he- Jaskier? I only came to ask for help with Ciri, I didn’t know- I didn’t-”

Geralt’s stammered speech tapers off into silence and Yennefer’s brow furrows a second time. When the sorceress sets eyes on the child, who cannot be more than twelve years old, her expression softens again. Jaskier watches the most imposing woman in the world kneel, taking one small, pale hand in both of her own. “My name is Yennever of Vengerberg, former Sorceress of Aretuza. I am honored to meet you, Princess Cirilla. Geralt has come seeking protection, no doubt, and it is easily granted. I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Lady Yennefer. And, uhm… Ciri’s fine,” the girl replies. Her voice is high and reedy, shot through with anxiety. She’s so young, Jaskier frowns. And yet she seems to have weathered an incredible storm.

“Ciri,” the bard bows from the doorway, low and dramatic. He sweeps his arm out to the side and bends his knees as awkwardly as possible, “I am Jaskier, private troubadour and gardener extraordinaire, under the employ of the magnanimous and dangerous Lady Yennefer, here. It is my greatest honor to make your very mighty and very royal acquaintance.”

“You’re silly, Master Jaskier,” the child giggles, hiding her mouth behind her hands. Geralt’s eyes grow wide and dart between Jaskier and the girl. Yennefer makes meaningful eye contact before nodding toward the door. Jaskier looks down at Ciri again when she asks: “Do you grow lots of flowers in Lady Yennefer’s garden, or just herbs and things for magic?”

“I grow lots of things all over the property,” the brunette man steps forward and offers Ciri his hand, gesturing towards the front door with the other. “Would you like to come and take a look? I know all the scientific names, you can even quiz me if you like.”

“I know some,” she smiles shyly, accepting the offered hand. “May I go take a look at the gardens, Geralt?”

“Go ahead,” the Witcher nods dumbly. “Jaskier will take good care of you.”

“That I will. Now, let’s take a look at the flowers and let these silly adults have a chat,” Jaskier grins. He winks at Yennefer and disappears out the door, exiled Princess in tow.

The two lively companions have toured through all the medicinal herbs and are halfway through Yennefer’s large collection of rose variations when the two other members of the party approach. Geralt looks sheepish, his eyes downcast. Yennefer looks triumphant; she is radiant in her victory as always.

Geralt steps forward, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Jaskier, I’ve come to apologize for what happened when we parted.”

“Excuse me?” the bard chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, exactly.”

“When I yelled at you after the dragon hunt. It was only two months ago, Jaskier, surely you remember?”

Jaskier blushes, glancing anxiously between Geralt and his friend, whose violet eyes are stormy with emotion, “I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met."

Geralt gasps sharply and takes a step back, as he did in the entryway. Jaskier winces, seemingly on instinct, and shies away from the larger man. “You don’t remember me?”

“No…” Jaskier sighs. “I really don't. Should I?”

“You don’t… You don’t even remember Toss a Coin?”

“Oh, that ditty from town?” Jaskier perks up. “I know that song! It always gets stuck in my head.”

“You… You wrote that song,” Geralt’s face crumples. “About our first adventure together outside of Posada. With the elves and the sylvan...”

“I’ve never been to Posada,” Jaskier laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “They hate bards. They prefer troupes of traveling play-actors. Posada is far too serious for my tastes.”

Geralt seems to be in agony. His chest rises and falls unevenly, as if he’s on the verge of tears but unable to shed them. Can Witchers cry?

How does he know that Geralt is a Witcher? Is it the two swords, the scars, or the strange eyes? How does he know that those are common Witcher traits?

His stomach lurches and he turns away from the group in case he needs to be sick. The ground spins and shivers in little ripples around him, unstable and impermanent beneath his feet. Yennefer is calling his name from somewhere far away and a pair of warm, strong arms are looped around his waist. Still, he can’t seem to breathe. Or focus.

There’s something missing.

He starts to hum, trying to remember the words of that damned song.

The rest of the world fades in and out around him, finally disappearing altogether.

---

He’s gorgeous.

Jaskier shoves another roll into his pocket. His eyes are focused on the man in the corner. He has long, snow-white hair and his shoulders are hunched forward protectively, as if he can hold the world out by sitting by himself. He’s glaring the table into submission, one fist clenched around his tankard.

I want to write him a thousand ballads. I want to know what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning, before he brushes it out again. I want to know if he snores. I want… he stops himself.

He makes his way across the room with eyes only for the stranger. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

The man looks away and Jaskier notices that his irises are gold. “I’m here to drink alone.”

Gods, his fucking voice… Velvet and gravel all at once. Melitele, does Jaskier want. “Good, yeah. Good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance… except for you.”

The man, the Witcher, Jaskier realizes, rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” he wheedles, sitting down across from the gorgeous stranger. “You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less.”

The man’s face stays stoic, expressionless. “They don’t exist.”

He realizes shortly thereafter that this man is not just any Witcher but the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. He could try to disengage himself from such a daunting character; he could easily make some kind of excuse and disappear back to the troubadour’s path, heading towards civilization, but it’s already too late. He doesn’t want to leave Geralt’s side ever again; he wants to write all those ballads he was thinking about earlier, when he glanced across the room.

Jaskier has fallen head over heels in love. ---

Geralt cradles Jaskier against his chest and presses his nose deep into those chestnut brown waves. “Wake up, Jaskier. Come back to me, bard, it’s been too long.”

“Don’t you usually go all winter without seeing him?” Yennefer asks from the doorway.

“It’s hell,” he replies easily. There’s no point in hiding his feelings from her. “I miss him every minute of every day.”

“Verbose this evening,” she remarks, taking a seat by the fire. “He’s dreaming, you know. He’s remembering you.”

“He’d forgotten?”

“He’d repressed it all,” she shrugs. “When I found him that day, feverish and nearly dead on the side of that godsforsaken mountain, he was barely coherent enough to open his eyes. He just kept asking for you, Geralt. Over and over he called for you, reaching his arms up, weak as they were. Gods, it was pitiful to watch.”

Geralt swallows.

“I thought you were going to come back sooner. I was surprised when his memories didn’t resurface after two or three weeks. Short-term memory loss after a fever isn’t uncommon but repressing twenty years worth of feelings and experiences-” she whistles lowly “-it was impressive and tragic, all at once.”

“He forgot me?”

“Entirely.”

Geralt glances down, shame-faced. He adjusts Jaskier in his arms, holding him close and pillowing the bard’s head against his shoulder. “I deserve it, Yen.”

“He’s remembering now, though. He’ll probably be a little less than pleased to see you when he wakes up, but he knows who you are.”

“When will he wake?”

“Can’t say,” she shrugs again. “After I brought him back from the mountain it took three days for him to wake up. The first day was magically induced but after that it was just him… exhausted and heartbroken to the point of self-induced amnesia.”

“Fuck, Yen,” Geralt groaned, pressing his forehead into the soft warmth of Jaskier’s cheek. “How can I make it up to him?”

“Stay.”

“Hmm?”

“When he wakes up and he’s angry and upset, stay. Don’t stomp off or blow up or freak out,” she instructs. “If he asks you to leave, go, but otherwise… prove yourself, Geralt of Rivia. You wanted to be a knight once, didn’t you? Now’s your chance to play Prince Charming. Get down on your lovely knees and beg and apologize.”

“Hmm. How’s Ciri?”

“Fed, bathed, and put to bed. I’ll take care of her for as long as it takes you two morons to make nice again. Good luck, Geralt, I’m sure he’ll forgive you too easily for my tastes.”

She stands from her seat and leaves just as efficiently as she entered, carefully closing the door behind her. Geralt lays Jaskier back on the bed and takes a seat beside him on the mattress, kneeling just within touching distance, should Jaskier reach out for reassurance in his sleep. Geralt closes his eyes and slips easily into meditation.

The Witcher is pulled from his trance a few hours later when Jaskier makes a startled sound and tries to sit up. Geralt opens his eyes and splays one warm, broad hand against Jaskier’s chest, forcing him back against the goose down pillows. “Stay still, Jaskier. You’re feverish and weak.”

“I’m still dreaming,” the bard grumbles, reaching to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s adorable and Geralt grins widely, warmth spilling into his chest from some newly discovered fount of happiness. “You’re being too nice to me, Witcher.”

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier, for everything.”

“What’s everything, Geralt?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away when I was angry and confused instead of communicating with you. I’m sorry for hurting you with my brash words and foolish actions; you have always deserved so much better and I’m so afraid that I can never give that to you. I take the wrong step at every turn, it seems, and yet you stay by my side. I didn’t want to risk hurting you the way I’ve already hurt Yen and Ciri, by tying us together against your will.”

“Darling Geralt,” the bard sighs. The Witcher scoots slightly closer and Jaskier lays a gentle hand atop his thigh. “It has always been my greatest pleasure to travel the Path with you and write of our adventures. I appreciate your concern for my agency and wellbeing, dear heart, but I am quite happy spending my entire human life in your presence.”

“Hmm,” the Witcher frowns. “You’re going to die someday.”

“And? So are you. So shall Yennefer, maybe.”

“Not likely,” Geralt jokes. Jaskier grins and the sight of it is so heartwarming that the Witcher wishes he could break down into tears. At least then Jaskier could see just how deeply his feelings ran. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, for blaming you for things that I brought upon myself. I love you dearly, and I hope that someday you can choose to travel with me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hope that you’ll-”

“No, the other bit.”

“I love you?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh. Yes, I-” Geralt clears his throat and looks Jaskier in the eyes, gold and blue locked together, “I love you very much, Jaskier.”

“Fuck.”

“May I kiss you, Jaskier?”

“Yes,” the bard breathes.

And then Geralt is lifting him up into his lap, one hand cradling Jaskier’s skull so so fucking carefully. Geralt’s other arm supports his waist, holding him steady. Their lips come together softly, carefully, and Jaskier’s soul spirals up to the ceiling with joy, his body abandoned. He is merely a vessel for the happiness that comes with kissing his Witcher. When they pull apart, both men are grinning like fools. “Oh, dear heart.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Never stop calling me that.”

“I swear I won’t, my love.”

From downstairs, Geralt hears Yennefer mutter, “Fucking finally.”

It takes twenty-two years, seven months, and one day, but Geralt and Jaskier manage to figure things out.

#bounceacoinoffyouranons #geraskier #amnesia #amensiac jaskier #memory loss #rare species fix it #the witcher netflix #the witcher ficlet #geraskier fluff #angst with a happy ending #fluff and angst #whump with a happy ending #jaskier whump #yennefer #yen and jaskier are bitchy theatre bffs #and you can't stop me #anon you really got me fucked up

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

Okay so first off, I love bears! 😭 they’re so cute! I would have one as a pet if I could. How do you think the pillarmen would react to their s/o finding a bear and immediately becoming friends with it? Doesn’t matter that it’s literally a wild animal. It saw s/o and was like “this is my friend now” and it follows her everywhere. But the bear is “submissive” to her. It doesn’t attack at all and does that thing where it shows it’s belly to her all the time. The bear likes the pillar men, but not as much as it loves s/o.

Ahhh! My dear Anon, this is is such a sweet idea! 🥰🥰🥰 I have the very same feelings about keeping a Fox as a Pet ❤ I very much would if I could! 😌

This started out as a few simple headcanons buuuuut~... 😅 I got carried away and turned it into a full fic! 😘😇 Please “bear” with me and enjoy! 🐻🐻🐻

The Pillarmen’s s/o brings Home a Bear... (A bit of a long fic; Under the cut for length!)

(I’ll stop making bear puns from this point on, I swear! I just couldn’t pass up the chance to use this picture. in any case... Please do not attempt anything that your read here with a real life Bear or any woodland creature that is dangerous for that matter! If you happen to find a lost little Bear in your travels, do the responsible thing and contact a forestry! ~FunBun)

"What," Your head snapped up as someone spoke from behind; your eyes trailing up a most familiar muscular torso to eventually meet the disapproving gaze of Kars looming over you. The Pillarman's eyes were wide and his face unreadable, "is that?"

There you were, sitting on the front porch which was not an abnormal occurrence as this was your house and you did as you pleased...

Except for, of course, the fact that you were cradling a LIVING BABY BEAR in your lap and hand-feeding it a peanut butter sandwich!

"...A Friend." You said after a long moment, blinking up at the behemoth of a man. The Cub in your arms grasped at your hand with two huge chubby-toed paws as you pushed the last chunky bit of sandwich into its awaiting mouth; happily chewing away as if it didn't have a bother in the world.

Kars let out a long sigh, his barreled chest heaving as he reached up to pinch the space between his painted eyes with a forefinger and thumb.

"Why?" He questioned.

It was really the only thing he could say in that moment as thousands of questions rolled through his head like flotsam and jetsam. The Pillarmen struggled to keep a hold on himself, trying to give you the benefit of the doubt first before giving you the scolding he so wanted to.

He and the others knew very well you loved animals, which pleased the Pillarmen as they were Men who valued nature and precious life; Kars was no exception. They were most especially aware of your specific fixation on Bears but Kars never so much as gave the love for the creature a second thought.

However, right now, while you held a living Bear in your lap he was beginning to wish he had thought to tell you not to do something as foolish as take one in.

"Hey! I didn't do anything!" You defended yourself, allowing the Bear Cub you cradled to lick the remnants of the gooey sandwich from your fingers. You know exactly what he was thinking; he thought you deliberately went out and took the Bear!

Really, you hadn't done anything! Well... not this time anyways.

It all started when you had gone out for your morning walk in the woods, you happened to enjoy the crisp Spring air this time of year and it was a good way to get out of the house for a bit and away from the noise of the Four Pillarmen you adored that were living with you.

It was only when you were halfway down your usual route when you realized there was a little black Bear Cub following right behind you.

At first, you had feared the worst. Normally where there was a baby, there was a Mother not very far behind and despite your love for Bears you REALLY didn't want to have an encounter an angry Mother Bear that was searching for her lost baby and happened to think you were the one that took it. You did your best to avoid the baby Bear, walking fast and pretending not to notice it in hopes that it would simply give up tailing you eventually and go on its own way back to where it came from, despite the tugging of your heartstrings.

After some time of attempted avoid and evade the Cub didn't leave your side, ambling close at your heals and beginning to cry out for your attention. It became obvious to you it was all alone and even more obvious that it was hungry; as soon as it saw you it thought to remedy both those things.

Always having a big heart, you just couldn't bring yourself to leave the poor thing all alone out in the woods; especially not when it was clinging to your leg and looking up at you with those big honeyed eyes pleadingly...

You weren't supposed to get caught. You had planned to keep him a secret for at least a little while.

You had lead the baby back to the house and left it outside to its own devices on the doorstep for just a moment. Meanwhile you slipped into the kitchen to make, not one, but two peanut butter sandwiches to feed it. You really didn't have anything else to give it, you hadn't been expecting to feed a hungry little Bear anytime soon and there was nothing in it that would hurt the Cub anyways as it was mostly protein.

Your early return from your walk had gone unnoticed by the others (at least at first).

Thankfully, Santana hadn't been in the kitchen raiding the fridge like he normally did this time of morning and had been in the Livingroom with Esidisi instead, too invested in the video game they were playing to hear you come in.

Wamuu was out back chopping up more firewood to burn, as the nights were still very cold; the Warrior too far away to hear you and unable to see you with the house in the way.

Kars was supposed to be up in his study, up to his elbows in papers and practically dead to the world but of course (just when you wanted him to be working for once) he wasn't.

Somehow, he just always knew when something was amiss.

"Peanut followed me here," you explained, peering down at the squirming black fuzz ball in your lap that was still happily licking the peanut butter from its chops.

Kars clicked his tongue, "Peanut?"

He seemed even more displeased you had already named it; if you named something, it became hard to lose it. That was a rule many people followed through ancient times.

You let out a shaky laugh, ignoring the chunky paws inarticulately grasping at your clothes as a little pink tongue darted out from a tiny chestnut muzzle, dampening the glistening black button at the very tip.

Peanut was giving you a thorough sniff, making sure that he had consumed all of the delicious food you had brought him and that he hadn't missed a single morsel.

"It fits." You told him, smiling pathetically as you shrugged your shoulders.

Ruby eyes drifted down to the little creature squirming in your lap for more than a beat before he let out another sigh; this time it didn't sound as stern and disapproving as the first but it still sent a shiver down your spine. His lips pulled into a sympathetic frown as he closed the distance between you two, crouching at your side.

"Dear one," he spoke, using the tone he typically reserved for when he was trying to comfort you or give you some advice. "We cannot keep Peanut."

Immediately, you felt your heart quiver at his words; the pulse of the muscle stopped all together as you looked up at him. His eyes, normally the epitome of inhuman and predatory, now softened.

You knew very well he would have this talk with you, albeit much sooner than you anticipated originally, but it didn't change the fact it was making your heart clench painfully in your chest.

"Why?" You questioned. Now it was all you could really say in that moment as everything else that tried to come out got jumbled up in your throat.

You really didn't need to ask such a question however, as you already knew the answer.

"My sunshine, he's a wild Animal; a predator. He may be a small creature now but Cubs like Peanut grow very quickly indeed." He explained gently, wrapping one muscular arm around you. "And as he grows, his appetite will grow; you won't be able to feed him simple sandwiches forever."

Your lips scrunched up as you peered down at the now quiescent black ball of fuzz cradled in your arms. Peanut, his belly now full and all the peanut butter thoroughly cleaned from his paws and face, had closed his eyes and was slowly falling down into a most comfortable mid-morning nap.

He was so cute; so damn cute you wanted to cry. A hand absentmindedly reached up to grasp one of his paws, your thumb tracing over the squishy pads of his feet and feeling the sharp little claws sprouting from the chubby toes like thorns from a rose.

All your life you loved Bears, no matter the kind; Panda Bears, Koala Bears, Grizzly Bears, Sun Bears, Polar Bears, even Black Bears like Peanut... and now here you were, holding one in your very own arms! Hugging it close to your body like one would an everyday Teddy Bear! A real life Bear had just waddled up to you in the forest, clinging to you as if appointing you as its new Mother and caregiver, cuddling in your arms like a loving pet and cooing as you fed it an icky-sticky delight.

It was a dream come true... and now Kars was asking you to wake up and cast it aside.

"But--... But--..." the quivering of your lip made it hard to find a foothold in this dispute.

"And there is also the matter of his behavior." Kars continued softly, one massive palm gently rubbing up and down your back as he spoke. "Bears can grow to be very territorial and temperamental creatures. Their maximum strength can out lift 10 Men and their maximum speed is faster than any vehicle you can drive."

By now your eyes were watering, the fuzzy spot in your arms no longer seemed so very fuzzy as the world around you blurred behind tears.

Kars, of course, was making sense as he always did and you didn't like it one bit.

The living God's frown only deepened as the glistening of the water pooling in your eyes caught his. Truly, he hated to see you cry. Seeing tears in your eyes was something that made him weak in places he never felt such weakness prior to falling in love with you... but your safety was in jeopardy; and that was something he, nor the other Pillarmen who loved you and dotted on you, didn't want to risk over one creature.

"We have to put him back where he belongs." He said; though his words still carried that softness it was undoubtedly an order not to be refused.

"Oh Kars," you sniffed, your nose crinkling as tears began to fall. "I can't do it!"

You turned more fully towards him, presenting the sleepy Cub; practically thrusting him into the Pillarman's arms.

"Just look at him!" You cried. "He's so small and he's all alone! I don't know what happened to his Mother but she's gone and... and..."

One massive hand found your cheek as the tears came harder, a calloused thumb swiping the raging rivers aside.

"Please Kars... I can't give him up... what if he--?...." you wimpered, unable to finish that thought. You were fully aware you had already lost for today as he shook his head sadly.

Your tears did nothing to sway him when he knew what he had to do.

His free hand slipped under the sleeping Cub, Peanut did little more than fill his palm, scooping him up and cradling him close to his chest as he stood.

Your arms had never felt more empty.

"I'm sorry, Beloved. It has to be done." He told you as you stared up at him with a crestfallen and teary gaze. "Chances are, his natural instincts will kick in and he will learn to take care of himself despite the absence of his Mother. Abandoned Cubs are more common than you think. Peanut needs to go back to the woods."

That was all that could be said, the Pillarman disappeared in one blinding flash; taking the Bear Cub with him.

You were left there sitting on the porch, scrubbing at your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater until the sensitive skin was raw in the cool Spring morning air. You managed to pull yourself together enough to not raise suspicion and headed back inside to make some coffee.

The morning passed quietly, when Kars made his eventual return to the house (sans Bear in hand) you didn't even look him in the eye.

You didn't deny that Kars had done the right thing, Peanut was in fact a wild Animal and belonged to the wilderness, but you still felt strangely bitter over it. So inexplicably angry it almost felt childish as you couldn't stop yourself from glaring at his back as he passed the kitchen table.

More time passed, your only half-drunk mug of coffee had long gone cold and your grief for the little Bear you knew that was left all alone somewhere in the woods had managed to ebb somewhat. You were just about to get up to go get a start on some chores when all of a sudden, Wamuu came through the door.

"Shoo! Shoo!" The massive Pillarman swiped his hand as he backed himself through the door, "Go on! Go back to your Home, small one."

You tilted your head, watching the unusual display. "What's wrong?"

The blonde turned his head to look at you with a frown. "I was trying to finish up my morning task when a Bear came out of the woods." He explained, finally closing the door with a sigh. Your gasp went unnoticed as he peered through the window of the door, his frown only etching deeper. "It's too small to be a juvenile. Just a Cub. I did not want to find out if there was a Mother lingering so I came back to the House. However, it seems to have decided to follow me..."

The Warrior blinked as you were suddenly out of your seat, squeezing past him to squish against the window of the door to see for yourself.

"Peanut!" You cried, your heart fluttering in your chest as you too caught sight of the little round ink blot sitting dejectedly on the porch.

Wamuu barely had a chance to react let alone intervene as you yanked open the door again, the sounds of the crying Bear hitting your ears.

It was Peanut alright, every feature similar right down to the whiskers of his muzzle. The Bear was plopped down on his rear, feet sticking out under him like he were a simple Teddy Bear sitting on the shelf of a toy store, and staring up at the door he knew you were behind. The squeaky wailing of the Cub fell silent as soon as he caught sight of you and realized he was no longer all alone, it seemed that he missed you just as much as you had him.

Wamuu stared in disbelief, watching with wide eyes as the little Bear rolled onto his back to reveal his soft tummy and stubby paws to you.

"Peanut?" The blonde questioned, one thick eyebrow raising as he looked between you both.

This was a wild Animal and yet you greeted it like some sort of pet!

As your leaned down to give a loving rub to the exposed tummy of the Bear, cooing at it as contentment spread across its features. You intended to recount this mornings full story to ease Wamuu's obvious confusion, however, you didn't so much as get the chance to get a word out before Kars was standing in the room.

He had just been about to head upstairs and absorb himself in his work, when he caught a snippet of what was happening in the kitchen. The Pillarman's crimson eyes wide as he approached, needing to see what was happening for himself.

"Look Kars!" You beamed, grinning up at both gawking Pillarmen as the Bear grasped at your petting hand, playfully trying to gum on your fingers with blunt little teeth. "Peanut came back!"

Kars all but shared in your glee, the pinching of his brows and the drooping of his lips gave away his irritation.

He had dropped Peanut off safely somewhere in the woods, not far from your usual walking path. When he had left, the Cub had still been sound asleep, completely none the wiser to being left behind, and the Pillarman had honestly thought that would be that.

It would seem the creature had imprinted on you more than he anticipated and it only added on to his previous fears.

"I'm afraid I'm in need of an explanation, my Lord..." Wamuu spoke up, tearing his gaze away from you and the Bear Cub you were most happily playing with.

Kars swooped in, taking the Cub away from you for the 2nd time that morning, much like an Eagle dropping from the sky to snatch up a mouse. Peanut pawed at his hardened chest, becoming squirmy in the massive mans hold as he let out a couple of little grunts.

It was as if the Bear knew exactly what Kars intended to do.

"I'll explain it to you in full when I return, Wamuu." He sighed as he begun carrying the squirming woodland creature away from the House towards the woods where he deemed it rightfully belonged.

You waved at the baby Bear as it watched you from over one muscled shoulder with those big honeyed eyes, feeling a little disheartened again but the fact that the Cub came looking for you still made a sweet warmth bloom in your chest.

It would be far from the last time any of you saw Peanut.

Late morning turned to afternoon and the day bloomed into something warm and lovely, like a watered down Summer day. Linens and towels came straight from the washing machine and were headed for the clothesline to dry in the sweet air.

There was absolutely nothing better than falling asleep in bedsheets that had spent all day out on a line in the breeze.

Always happy to help you around the household, Esidisi volunteered to put them out for you as you were already busy doing other things around the house.

He had only turned his back for 2 seconds to hang the first sheet, humming softly to himself as he went, before turning to find a baby Bear making himself at Home in the laundry basket he had carried out. Peanut was rubbing his scent all over the damp linens as he rolled in and pawed at the clean sheets; inevitably dirtying them again.

Esidisi found the whole ordeal hilarious, most especially when he was fed the full story of the morning by you who had come out to see what was taking him so long with his chore.

Kars, on the other hand, didn't find it so very funny.

He especially didn't see the humor in it when he found the two of you playing with Peanut in the yard, entertaining yourselves and the Cub by draping a sheet over him and prying it off like a parachute over and over.

Peanut was taken back to the forest a 3rd time; this time much farther into the woods.

Late afternoon rolled around and Santana finally left the house to go outside; having the sole intention of taking a nap in the fresh air via the hammock that had been recently strung up in the backyard.

Unfortunately, the youngest Pillarman got sidetracked when a little Bear came out of the woodwork and crawled into the hammock with him, mewling and demanding his immediate attention as he was hungry once again.

Kars, the one and only, spirited Peanut away before you and Santana had a chance to make more sandwiches to feed it.

This happened over and over and over again.

It seemed like every time the Pillarman dumped Peanut somewhere, no matter how remote or how far from your Home, the little Bear inevitably found its way back sooner or later; ambling up to you or the others with a mighty hunger and a carefree nature unmatched.

Peanut appeared on the doorstep next morning when you were about to head out for a walk.

Peanut was found digging in the trash bin when Kars was taking out the trash.

Peanut clung to Wamuu's leg as he went out to mow the lawn; the Warrior didn't so much as bat an eye, unhindered, as the Cub held onto his ankle while he worked the mower.

Peanut approached Santana when he was eating chips on the porch; the Pillarmen didn't seem to mind the company nor the fact the Bear ended up upside down in the bag.

Peanut followed you around like you were its one true Mother while you tended the yard and carried out chores.

Peanut sat contently at Esidisi's feet as the man was Barbecuing supper in the evening; the Bear watching him and waiting for supper to be served as if he were the guest of Honor.

Each time, without fail, Kars brought him back to the woods and each time, without fail, Peanut came back.

It was only frustrating him further and further.

Eventually, one quiet and rainy morning Kars went out onto the porch to sit and read; he always enjoyed the sound of rainfall and the fresh earthen smell of a Spring downpour. He had barely been there 5 minutes, not even enough time to get truly immersed in his novel, when suddenly a very wet and cold ball of hair climbed up into his lap, actually making the Pillarman yelp at the shock of the sensation of a freezing cold Cub pressing against his bare skin.

Kars was big and dry and comfortable, like a much bigger and hairless Bear, a place Peanut deemed perfect enough to sit out of the Rain and warm up.

The purple-haired man frowned down at the chubby bundle taking up residence in his lap, Peanut grunted contently as he made himself comfortable. His normally downy soft and dandelion puffed fur was now patterned down and awry, radiating with a dank with a heady, musky Bear smell due to being soaking wet.

It was not at all a pleasant smell to anyone's nose, most especially to a Pillarman's as they were creatures with extra sensitive senses.

Kars, now feeling that this was the final straw, was just about to scoop the creature up into his arms and carry out their usual pick up and drop off routine; this time he intended to take Peanut all the way down river to the farthest side of the forest and leave him there.

He stopped on a dime when two big pools of honey locked onto glimmering rubies.

"Don't look at me like that..." the Pillarman warned, feeling his heart quiver strangely in his chest. The command didn't come out nearly as firm as he intended it to be.

Kars treasured creatures big and small and this creature was so adorable, so small it made his arms itch in ways he hadn't felt since the time he had taken care of the two infants that grew to be Wamuu and Santana. Peanut rolled in his lap, squishing his face against the Pillarman's abs and nuzzling softly; his fur stuck to bare skin in an almost icky way and made his loincloth feel very damp and uncomfortable due to the run off of water.

The Pillarman pursed his lips, forcing himself to bring to mind all the logical points on why this Bear (this nuisance, this danger, this predator) had to go.

Peanut opened his mouth and let out a little yawn and a sneeze, probably just as hungry as he was cold and damp.

Kars' huge hands balled into fists at his sides, his jaw setting tighter and tighter as he felt himself and the walls of his determination crumbling, hating every single millisecond of it before eventually, after an internal struggle that lasted seemingly millennium... he sighed.

Peanut was scooped into his arms and, this time, taken into the House.

☆☆☆

"Really?!" You cried in disbelief, hands going to your mouth as it pulled into an impossibly huge grin.

Esidisi, Wamuu and Santana just sat there, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief of their own.

Surely he couldn't be serious... could he?

Kars let out a long breath, "Yes, dearest." He groaned, still cradling the tiny dampened Bear in the crook of his arm as it clung to his bicep. "We can keep Peanut."

Immediately, to everyone’s amusement but Kars', you were in his lap just as quickly as the Cub had climbed into it. You didn't care one bit that he was a little damp and that some of Peanuts musky stink had rubbed off on him, peppering his face with thousands of kisses as you threw your arms around both the Pillarman and the Cub.

"Oh Kars! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You squealed between your line of kisses.

Nobody had expected Kars to cave in this matter; they honestly expected this to go on and on for some time until Peanut was forced to be the one to give up on finding his way back to the house.

However, despite the fact all of them were pleased and ready to take on this idea of having an actual living Bear around, there came the next matters to attend to.

The ground rules.

"But he cannot stay inside the house." Kars said, that firm nature of his making its return. Peanut had managed to wriggle out of both of your holds and was now ambling around the Livingroom, sniffing everything and everyone in sight. Esidisi was following him around to ensure he wouldn't break anything or get himself into more trouble while Kars was feeling so generous, smiling indulgently as he scooped him up and presented him to the others.

"Ok." You hummed, that part was only to be expected.

But you wouldn't deny that somewhere in the back of your mind you had fantasized about cuddling up to a giant fuzzy Peanut in bed or on the couch.

Kars took in another deep breath and the atmosphere changed, it was as if the temperature dropped in the room. The mans eyes were serious and his features became even more stonelike than the masks he crafted as he pulled you closer to him in his lap.

"I want you to listen to me, dear one." He began, his voice was low and something akin to fridged; it only sent shivers dancing down your spine. "If Peanut grows to be an aggressive creature or too much a hassle to handle, even if he gives any of us the slightest reason to fear he would harm you in any way, shape or form... we'll have to be rid of him. Permanently."

His words hung in the air, making your stomach sink like a rock falling helplessly to the depths of the ocean. A lump was starting to balloon in your throat.

You knew very well what that meant.

The Pillarmen weren't men who took any form of pleasure out of killing Animals; Kars especially... but you knew that he would not hesitate to do so for your sake. His words spoken to you prior on the porch when you first encountered the Cub rang around quite deafeningly in your head.

"Do I make myself clear?" He asked you, his pupils burned absolute holes into your heart as he held your gaze; not unlike a strict parent after giving the scolding of a lifetime.

The best you could do was nod, praying the day you all feared would never come at all or at least not very soon; the latter was perhaps your best hope.

For now, however, you planned on celebrating the day by making a peanut butter sandwich for the newest, and perhaps hungriest, member of your little Family.

☆☆☆

Time passed, as it did for everything, and Peanut grew and grew. He grew from a small and clumsy little Bear Cub into a bigger and gangly Juvenile Bear by mid Summer.

Sometimes the Bear would disappear at night into the woods, just after supper of course, but there were also times he would just sleep close to the house; most specifically by the front porch. Peanut still followed you around outside as you did anything, always greeting you with a grunt as he flopped onto his back to reveal his belly and were always more than happy to rub it when he did.

His appetite did indeed grow and the simple peanut butter namesake was no longer truly fulfilling to him; nothing more than a sweet morsel to lick up as a treat.

Peanut had to be shown how to properly hunt for himself and that was something you and Esidisi decided to tackle together, taking him down to the river on the hottest days to teach him to to fish for himself. Those days were filled with much laughter on your part where you sat on the bank to watch the Pillarmen wading out in the raging waters with the Bear, hunched forward and making a grab for a slippery and wet flying fish with his hands as they jumped from the water to properly demonstrate.

Eventually, after much trial and error (not to mention Esidisi falling right into the river a handful of times) Peanut was able to catch all the fish he wanted to eat.

Wamuu was a big help in burning off the major energy that came with Peanut growing into an adult Bear. The Warrior often spent hours out in the yard playing with him, going so far as to push and wrestle with the creature, playing simple games like throwing a giant ball around or to even take him on a run through the woods to tire him out.

Sometimes you even tailed behind the pair on your 4 wheeler to get in on the fun and play.

Santana found himself spending his days playing with Peanut too, more often content to help you take care of the beast. You and Santana tried to bath Peanut at least once every 2 weeks to fight against his stinky Bear musk, lathering him up nicely where he sat contently in an old kiddie pool in the yard and hosing him off. Santana would spend a lot of time with Peanut as the Bear napped, scratching his back and finger combing the knots out of his fur; even plucking annoying ticks from the Bears body when he found them.

You found it quite disturbing, and more than a little gross, as to how Santana could hold the bloated insects between his fingers and pop them upon finding them. You swore you could hear the red-head chuckle lowly each time you let out a disgusted gag when he done it.

And Kars, he found himself dotting over and spoiling Peanut with affection just as much as you did.

The Pillarman would deny any claims that he snuck the Bear peanut butter sandwiches between meals or even peanut butter straight from the jar but you knew the truth. It was hard to miss as it seemed Peanut would immediately give Kars a good sniffing upon seeing him, obviously checking for any delicious treats he happened to be keeping concealed.

By late Fall, Peanut was a fully grown Adult Bear.

In fact, he had swollen to such an immense size, he was something of a rival to the Pillarmen; by that time it was something of a relief he was a gentle giant. He was still a wild Animal but he was also a loving pet to you and the 4 Pillarmen.

One day, Peanut stumbled out into the woods and didn't return. Snow came not long after and then the brutal and fridged season of Winter truly begun.

Peanut had disappeared but you knew he wasn't far in the woods, hopefully holed up in a cave and hibernating.

Winter passed slowly, more slowly than it ever had before. As December ticked away to January and eventually February, the others didn't miss how much you missed your Peanut; he was all you could talk about somedays! You weren't the only one who missed him however, not missing the wistful looks passing over the faces of the others upon seeing a segment on Black Bears airing on National Geographic or opening the fridge to find the jar of peanut butter sitting there; untouched and almost begging to be eaten.

March went bye, then April and the snow had long melted away due to the heavy rainfall but still, Peanut did not make his return.

You were seriously starting to worry by this time. What if he hadn't been hibernating all along? What if a Hunter had gotten to him? Or what if... he forgot about you?

The Pillarmen could only console you so much, trying their best not to give you false hope by saying things along the lines of "I'm sure he'll be around!" and make things worse as they really did not know of Peanut's fate either...

It was well over a year since you had first taken in the Cub and now there was no sign of him anywhere.

But just when you were starting to give up all hope of seeing your prized Bear and companion again, you opened the door one morning as you prepared to go on your morning walk to be met with shock.

You just about jumped out of your skin as an earth rattling roar hit your eardrums, sending a jolt of fear striking through your body like lightning and screaming in primal terror at the sight before you. A Black Bear that was larger than life stood on its haunches off the porch, its maw open and its breath showing like hot puffs of steam as it growled out into the cold Spring air; asserting its presence for miles.

For one terrible and too long of a moment, you thought you would be slaughtered on your own doorstep by your most favorite Animal on Earth.

Your terror was short-lived however, as the monstrous beast you feared would devour you whole suddenly flopped onto its back and turned its belly to the sky.

"PEANUT!" You cried, spreading your arms wide as you ran to flop on top of the creature; your friend and pet.

It wasn't long after when all 4 Pillarmen were standing out on the porch, your screech having been heard from inside the house.

"Look Kars!" You beamed, rubbing the gargantuan tummy with a wide grin; eliciting a content grunt from the Bear. "Peanut came back!

Kars could only smile this time and shake his head.

Peanut had come back again, without fail; just as he always done and the Pillarmen were quite happy he was here to stay...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 9 - Obligation

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot @suzy-rainbow @miingxuxi

“It was like Se Kyung’s eyes had been surgically transferred into another body. ”

Hesitation stops Kim Jo-Pil for a few seconds. He parts his quivering lips and takes a deep breath, then says, just loud enough for Juyeon to hear, “I made a mistake. One too big for me to dig a hole and throw it in.”

Juyeon’s frown deepens, and he hears the sheets shuffling in the bedroom. He reaches forward, pulling Jang Won’s door shut.

It is only in Kim Jo-Pil’s home-made office (also known as Jang Won’s second guest room) that Juyeon is surprised by the number of mini and portrait-sized canvasses painted by his wife. Just for a split second, Juyeon buys it. Maybe Kim Jo-Pil isn’t as horrid of a person Kim Jang Won thinks he is.

But it’s the picture of their family sitting on his desk that ironically turns Juyeon’s head around.

“What is all this? For show? For when Jang Won storms in and you’ll think she’ll go soft, seeing all this?”

Kim Jo-Pil lands himself in the sofa seat next to the bed, piled with files and documents and boxes, leaving Juyeon to stand awkwardly by the end of the bed, eyes scanning the mess in the room.

“You sound like her... after her mother passed and before I did.”

Juyeon’s nostrils flare. “If you don’t want to tell me why you decided to come back and ruin her life, so be it. I don’t need to stand here and listen to all your-”

“Younghoon wasn’t Se Kyung’s first child.”

Silence.

Juyeon’s heart halts in his chest.

Kim Jo-Pil looks out the window, eyes looking in the distance where the city’s skyscrapers were kissing the sun. “Se Kyung had a child born out of wedlock before she married me. But they made her choose. The child’s life or her freedom.”

“Back then, The Board already had administrations favouring arranged marriages between families under the conglomerate. It was an easy system to keep the number of royalties under control. The cycle repeats itself. Two families become one, and a new family joins. Superpowers are reduced from two to one overnight, and The Board would never have to be worried about being overthrown because the supers would simply be too busy outdoing each other and seeking validation from the administration.”

“Did you know?” Juyeon whispers. “That she already had a child?”

“I knew... not because I was meant to, but because I wanted to. It was The Board’s annual Christmas Charity Event in the early 1990s and Se Kyung had gone with her parents, and I had gone with mine. She was sweeter than a daisy in a meadow full of flowers. She was polite, kind, and had a reputation for being the most stubborn creature on the planet, even then. It was one of the many things that Jang Won had inherited from her.”

“She spent her early twenties away from home, supposedly in another country working her way through foreign industries and making a name for herself. I didn’t know she had returned until my father told me that the Yoo family had chosen to merge with another - mine - I couldn’t be happier. One night, I decided to sneak to into their property and propose to her formally, way before the arrangements were to be made public. And... I heard it. The crying. Fighting.”

Kim Jo-Pil’s eyes fall. “She had returned with a child in hopes to bond her to the Yoo family. The father was a coward and ran once he had heard she was from a reputable family. Too much politics, too much money.”

“But the baby. Oh, the baby. Sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My poor, poor Se Kyung... She was given the options: Marry into the Kim family and give the baby away, or her parents will have it dispensed like it had never been born.”

By now, Kim Jo-Pil has tears in his eyes.

“After we had Younghoon, something in Se Kyung clicked back to life. I remember the night she delivered him. The sparkle in her eyes that I fell in love with the day I met her had returned... but I knew for a fact that I needed to find her first-born, no matter the implications. It was the least I could do for her. By then, the child had to be a few years older than Younghoon and so, I spent the time that I should’ve spent with Se Kyung and my own children looking for her - the baby.”

“Se Kyung lost her parents in an accident the night Jang Won was born. She lost the worst nightmares of her life in exchange for a beautiful baby girl... so, what more could she ask for?”

Kim Jo-Pil sucks a deep breath. “I couldn’t find the child. I went to all the orphanages and the foster homes and by then Se Kyung had already fallen ill. Brain cancer - inherited. All I wanted was to return Se Kyung was her first-born and yet I did not deliver. When Jang Won was 16, Se Kyung passed. The last foster home that had taken care of the child said that she had reached a legal age to take care of herself. She could’ve gone under the radar if she wanted, changed her name if she wanted, and I’ll never be able to find her. Little did I know that she had grown to become much more of a person than I ever expected her to be, and she had been practicing advanced medicine throughout her college life.”

Juyeon is giddy from the influx of information, and so he braces himself when his own neurons piece the puzzle together.

“She was the one who revived you. The child.”

The elder shuts his eyes and lets the tears dribble over his lids.

It felt like a dream. The ache in his chest. The rough texture of gravel under his cheek when he collapsed. But Kim Jo-Pil opens his eyes, in thorough shock, when he realises he’s not in the hospital, but in some worn-down warehouse with a bunch of illegal medication that shouldn’t even be legally available outside of the hospital.

He had remembered the lights in the operating theatre, and even the sound of his slowing heartbeat in the drums of his ears.

So how is it possible that he’s-

“Ah, you’re awake! I was starting to worry that it didn’t work, Goddamn Narcan.”

Kim Jo-Pil tries to move, but he can’t. He couldn’t move a single muscle in his body besides his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The lights above him had been preventing him from seeing her face, and when he did, he swore he could’ve been snapped into two when he recognised her eyes.

She pushes away the lights and turns to remove her surgical equipment, the sound of latex snapping away from her fingers echo through the dismay of the room. She returns her attention to Kim Jo-Pil.

It was like Se Kyung’s eyes had been surgically transferred into another body.

“I’m Yoo Hye In, and I heard you’ve been searching for me.”

Exasperated and in disbelief, Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, turning to make sure the door of the room was shut.

“Why are you even telling me this? How do I know I can trust you to tell me the truth?”

“Yes, because I have all the damn time in the world to be cooking up this story!” He gets up and pulls up his shirt, revealing a stitched scar right over where his heart was. “I trust you because you have no reason to backstab her.”

He releases his shirt.

“Other than Younghoon, I don’t know if anybody else in this system can offer her any kind of security.”

“How do you know I’m not gonna run off after getting half of HERA & ARTEMIS?”

“Because if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been such a jerk to her over your wedding.”

Juyeon presses his fingers over his closed lids. His vision is blurred when he opens them.

“Why don’t you just tell Jang Won about this? She can protect you. She can sieve out this... Yoo Hye In, give her what she wants-”

“Jang Won will never give Hye In what she wants.”

Juyeon can feel the edges of his lips curl downwards and his lids getting heavier from mental exhaustion. “...Hye In wants HERA & ARTEMIS?”

Kim Jo-Pil’s eyes can’t seem to leave the floor. He can’t help the dreaded feeling of failure drowning his conscience as a father, as someone who was rightfully supposed to protect her.

“So, what’s your plan? Hye In wants HERA & ARTEMIS, and you know for a fact that Jang Won won’t give that up... like, ever. What happens if Hye In doesn’t get HERA & ARTEMIS?”

“Hye In will go to the press. Her existence being Yoo Se Kyung’s first-born out of wedlock will destroy everything this family has built. Hera’s Manor, HERA & ARTEMIS, Artemis...” He shakes his head. “Either gone or hers. She’s playing saint by not doing that directly.”

“But what does Yoo Se Kyung’s mistake have anything to do with Jang Won?” Juyeon seethes, inhaling such a deep breath that his chest hurt. “This is unfair. She should not have to go through this-”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Kim Jo-Pil’s lower lip trembles, a hardening gaze plastered to Juyeon.

Heaviness blankets the room. Juyeon’s frown feels cemented into his forehead as he sits at the edge of the crowded bed, fingers on his temple.

“Juyeon.”

The younger side-eyes the elder, cautious.

“Once you’ve acquired Apple-Korea, I want you to buy all of HERA & ARTEMIS, then acquire Artemis Entertainment as well.”

“You know Jang Won won’t allow that.”

“Try. You’ll have the power to and she can’t exactly stop you,” He huffs, chest rising. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I will tell her the truth when it blows over.”

“’Blows over’? How is this going to ‘blow over’? You just said Hye In won’t give in until she gets HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“But she can’t fight for ownership if it’s the owner is not of Yoo’s descent. Which means once you acquire all of HERA & ARTEMIS-”

“Then she’s no longer a threat.”

Kim Jo-Pil nods. “But you will need Jang Won’s trust to acquire all of HERA & ARTEMIS, and she cannot know about Hye In before that happens. Once the order is out of place, Jang Won will stop at nothing to fight for HERA & ARTEMIS, not knowing that she’ll be fighting a lost war.”

“Jang Won doesn’t even trust Younghoon. How do you expect her to trust me?”

“Look at where you’re standing,” Her father turns, but doesn’t look at Juyeon directly. The sun kisses a single side of his face as his eyes scan the room. “You’re standing in Hera’s Manor, and you’re her first overnight guest in five years. I’d say you have a pretty good chance at earning the rest of her trust.”

Juyeon winces slightly, shutting his lids to process the information. There’s a grave sense of responsibility perched on his shoulders now, and the dread that lingers in the back of his skull when he thinks of Yoo Hye In strutting around in public makes him uneasy.

Juyeon finds himself mindlessly heading for the dining hall, where Mr Ro was finishing up the preparation of the wide array of food on the side table. The butler bows, but it goes unnoticed. He pulls the chair back for Juyeon to sit, and eventually calls him a cup of coffee when he notices Juyeon’s lack of attention.

“Mr Ro.”

“Hmm?” The chocolate-brown shade of coffee glitters under the light from outside.

“How long do you think it’ll take Jang Won to trust me?”

Mr Ro pulls away, handing the pot of coffee to another staff. “Well, Mr Lee... that depends on what circumstance we’re envisioning.”

“Her life. Maybe something she loves, something she can’t live without.”

“So, a prized possession.”

“Mm.”

Mr Ro pauses for a thought.

“Long, but play your cards right, and she will eventually trust you.”

Juyeon offers a strained curve of his lips when Mr Ro bows and returns to the kitchen, leaving him with a bunch of pastries that should be sold in some five-star hotel instead.

Jang Won strolls into the dining hall dawned in a gorgeous full-fitted set, make-up and hair done like she was going for her own press conference. Juyeon remains quiet at the table, only looking up once when she first enters, then he returns to spreading Nutella on his croissant.

“Jesus, do we not have anything from Younghoon or my father to let him wear besides those pajamas?”

“You lent me these pajamas, don’t make it sound like it was my bad choice to make. Besides, they are comfortable and cute,” Juyeon looks down at himself.

Jang Won gruffly scoffs. “Of course it’s comfortable. It’s made from Supima cotton. What do you think we are, savages?”

“Mrs Lee, I-”

“Call me that again and I will fire you,” She abruptly instructs, glaring at her butler.

“Ms Kim,” He corrects himself. “We have already called Younghoon’s fitters to bring by some wardrobe for Mr Lee before he joins you for the itinerary meeting.”

“Itinerary meeting?” She whips her head from Mr Ro to Juyeon, who was busy licking the Nutella off the knife he was using. “Don’t you have to be in the office or something?”

“And do what? Put myself in a situation where my parents can come to kidnap me home? No thanks.”

Jang Won leans back in her seat as the staff places a cup of tea in front of her, surprised at Juyeon’s enthusiasm with something that he didn’t need to worry about.

“Well, I have a doctor’s appointment after, so, you can come back home after unless you want to hang around old, dying people.”

“What?” Juyeon sneers. “What for? You look perfectly fine to me.”

“That’s because I have been going for these medical checkups, dumbass. I’m not gonna stand around and then what if I magically die of a heart attack- then what? Give you all of HERA & ARTEMIS and Artemis Entertainment? Pshht!”

Juyeon purses his lips - a terrible attempt at hiding his smile.

Young Jin Seol [12.13pm]: Your father just dropped by this morning. He knows you’re at Hera’s Manor.

Young Jin Seol [12.14pm]: He’s requesting for a meal, for him and Mrs Lee as well as you and Kim Jang Won after you return from your honeymoon.

He quietly locks the device, attention drifting from the messages to Jang Won, who was busy strolling about the office. The ride here had been quiet, for Juyeon had chosen to drive and Jang Won sent two guards to Kim Sunwoo’s residence to get her Mercedes back.

Heavy and thoughtful, Juyeon thought. The atmosphere in the car was strange, and he can’t help but to wonder of Jang Won was even aware she had a nightmare (or a trauma relapse, or whatever you called one of those) earlier in the morning. Maybe it was the accustomed sight of Jang Won being as cold and rigid as a statue that makes it harder to bear. Juyeon fails, when he tries to restrain the ache that devours his chest, unable to remove the image of her crying and holding on to that mini canvas like it were her life.

The door of the office clicks open and it steals both his and her attention, the tour agency officer bowing to the two tycoons with files in her arms. Juyeon stands, patting down his pants.

“Mr Lee!” She holds out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Mrs Lee didn’t make your attendance known.”

Juyeon smiles politely at her, shaking her hand whilst admiring the distasteful grimace on Jang Won’s face at the address.

“Please, just call me Juyeon, and my wife, Jang Won. We’re still not used to the new... salutations.”

The officer offers a low chuckle, turning to Jang Won and raising a cheeky brow. Juyeon’s left brow twitches when Jang Won’s grimace remains cemented into her lips, and yet the officer was still grinning like an idiot.

“Do you two know each other?”

“Call me ‘Mrs Lee’ one more time, and I will murder you,” Jang Won seethes, opening her arms and pulling her into a tight hug. An exhale gets punched out of Juyeon, feeling somewhat at ease with the change in atmosphere.

“I knew that would totally get you on edge,” The officer laughs, patting Jang Won on her back between her shoulder blades. Pulling away, she turns to Juyeon and bows, this time more candidly. “I’m Ki Hae Ri, your tour officer for your honeymoon next week.”

Watching Jang Won talk to Hae Ri was almost like watching her get possessed by a 13-year-old teenager. More than amused, Juyeon wasn’t even paying attention to the actual content Hae Ri was talking about regarding the itinerary - all he could see was the bright smile on Jang Won’s face.

And for once, since the day he first met her, this smile was genuine. Her eyes are folded into crescents when she laughs and chortles and berates Hae Ri for every little detail she puts in the conversation to tease Jang Won.

“And for you, Mr Lee,” Hae Ri’s voice snaps him out of his mindless admiration. “Jang Won here has told me that you like diving and so I must tell you that she suggested of doing Belize.”

The folder slides across the table, and Jang Won shoots Hae Ri a look of betrayal. Automatically darting his attention to Jang Won, Juyeon’s fingers trail the edges of the folder, a picture of the Belize Blue Hole printed on the cover page.

Clearing her throat, Jang Won looks afar, refusing to even face him. “So it’s an 8-hour drive, or a 1.5 hour flight from Guatemala to Belize. It was a suggestion in one of the itinerary sets anyway.”

Juyeon looks up from the 3-day Belize stay itinerary, noticing Hae Ri’s prideful, cheeky grin stretched up her lips.

Back in the car, Juyeon’s hands are on the steering wheel, engine already churning and the air-conditioner blasting the coolness into their faces. Jang Won waits for some moments, before realising the amount of movement in the car - or rather, the lack thereof.

“Hello? Doctor’s appointment?” The edge in her voice is back and Juyeon can’t help but wonder just how she does it - being so cold and caring at the same time. “If you’re not interested, then you can just get the fuck out and I’ll call Mr Ro to come pick you up.”

Juyeon pauses for a moment, collecting the vocabulary in his head.

“My parents want to meet us for a meal after we return from our honeymoon.”

The whir of the air-conditioner suddenly sounds a little louder.

“What for?” Jang Won snorts. “Is your mom planning on baking cupcakes and apologising for making this the worst decision of your life, even though it wasn’t even yours to make?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll have to go. They are still my parents.”

“What?” She criticises, her upper lip hooked upwards. “You ran away! From home! And now you want to just... bring a basket of fruits to a picnic with them just ‘cause they’re your parents? Ha!”

“Look, I don’t like it either, but if we don’t do this then they’ll just be bugging me forever and if that happens then I can’t do what you want me to do with HERA & ARTEMIS peacefully. If anything, they might just fuck shit up if they don’t have this meal with us.”

“‘Fuck shit up’? I’ll fuck them up-”

“We’ll go, and that’ll be the end of it, okay? Trust me, you don’t want them dipping their noses into our shit once we start with all the ownership administration.”

“’Dipping their noses’? Just who the Hell do your parents think they are? They don’t even own any of the companies related to the-”

“I know, God damn it,” Juyeon finally rebuts, patience running thin. “But they have power. According to The Board’s conglomerate, my family is on the same tier as yours.”

Jang Won huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window.

“Just... just this once, and they’ll go easy. It’s not worth picking a fight with them, I promise you. Okay?”

Jang Won struggles to remove the frown off her forehead. She knows it’s not his fault. She knows his parents are shitty people.

And yet, for some reason, she’s jealous that Juyeon even has parents to feel obligated towards.

Destiny, prophecy, fate. You name it. Just what is it that makes things so complicated in life? Circumstances can be created, changed, altered. Jang Won can question God about how she ended up right in this very spot every day, but she won’t get an answer, ever. Juyeon can wonder why she had to be the one responsible for her mother’s mistake, and he’ll never know why either.

Juyeon trails carefully behind Jang Won, slightly surprised that she wasn’t visiting the area’s best hospital for her medical checkups. Not that this was one was bad, but it was... affordable. Taking in the sights and sounds as he enters the main hall, Jang Won advances towards the registration counter and pulls off her sunglasses.

“Here,” She slides a clipboard to the side. “Fill this visitor registration form up.”

Juyeon picks up the pen, watching her pull out her wallet and hand it over to the administration staff.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Ms Yoo Hye In.”

Juyeon’s eyes dart upwards from the visitor registration sheet, pupils flitting between the administrator and Jang Won, who was calmly signing into some check in registry. He can feel his breath grow shaky and unstable and all of a sudden, Jang Won’s looking at him like he was the crazy person in the room.

“What? Are you okay?”

He parts his lips to deny the question, wishing to brush it off and simultaneously, maybe convince himself that it was just someone with the same name.

“Jang Won! I was wondering if you were going MIA today again.”

Ironically, his heart stops. Jang Won puts on her service smile and provides her doctor a subtle wave as the two close the distance between them.

“Of course not. Gotta make my check-up down-payment worth it. I can’t run around the city working my work if I’m unwell, can I?”

“Well, I see you brought the future director of Apple-Korea with you,” Yoo Hye In turns to Juyeon, eyes bright and her smile convincingly kind. Her hair was short, well trimmed, and Juyeon was almost in shock that he could see the similarities between her and Jang Won.

The tycoon whips her head upon the silence, almost shifting to nudge him. “Juyeon.”

“No, no, it’s okay! No need to rush him,” Yoo Hye In grins widely, offering a hand to him. “I’m Jang Won’s personal doctor, Yoo Hye In. You can call me Hye In.”

#multifandomnet #destinyverse #ficscafe #juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #tbz fanfic #tbz imagines #lee juyeon scenario #juyeon fanfic #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #tbz #tbz juyeon #love me a little less

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ambiguousdisorderken · 3 years

Note

in your expert opinion what are some of the most destiel-heavy episodes of spn? i stopped watching around season 7 and have no interest in engaging w the plot of the show at all but i’m in the mood for some gay yearning ykwim

Hi anon! Thank you for reaching out to me about this, I’m, no-joke, very flattered. I’d seen a couple posts on this same question, very thorough and detailed lists on Destiel-centric episodes, but at the moment I cannot find any of them, that would’ve answered your request much faster. So, in advance, sorry, my reply is probably coming in extremely late, but I did write this from scratch, so yeah.

Even though storylines in SPN can be very shitty and hollow, I do feel that to get the full Destiel experience -that long-drawn yearning- one would have to watch the entirety of the show, even if Cas isn’t in the episode or if there’s no explicit mention of their relationship/bond because it gives you a better understanding of them as characters and of how their relationship affects the narrative.

Now, you mentioned you stopped around S7, which is completely understandable and justified given the Dick plot game was very weak and, in my opinion, annoying (so little Cas!). I’m going to start listing from S7 in case you want to refresh your SPN before jumping straight into unseen episodes. Also, since you mentioned no interest in the plot and are specifically craving those sweet crumbs of gay yearning, I’ll skip most one-sided / too subtle episodes and cut to the chase.

Lastly, I hate spoiling things, but you’ve probably seen it all on Tumblr. I tried to keep the episodes’ descriptions short, as it might come in useful. Stuck to key words, quotes and/or little comments.

Season 7

7x01 – Meet the New Boss: Godstiel, sincere apology. Cas: “I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.”

7x02 – Hello, Cruel World: Mourning. Trench coat melancholy. The heart-wrenching eulogy: “Dumb son of a bitch.”

7x17 – The Born-Again Identity: Emmanuel!Cas, reunion, longing, hurt.

7x21 – Reading is Fundamental: Honey!Cas, hug, hurt, reunion, that painful SORRY (board game) scene.

7x23 – Survival of the Fittest: Honey!Cas, forgiveness, adorable, wified Cas. Dean hits us with: “Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas!" but also “I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

Season 8 (this season is so good and Destiel is the driving motor of it, I swear. If you can, watch it complete.)

8x01 – We Need to Talk About Kevin: Dean in Purgatory looking for the angel. Cas is referred to as “your [Dean’s] angel.”

8x02 – What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?: HUG!!!, Purgatory reunion, face touch, very romantic. Monster: “ You'll find your angel there.” // Dean: “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you.”

8x05 – Blood Brother: Cas vs. Benny cat fight lol. Dean: “Cas... we're gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.”

8x07 – A Little Slice of Kevin: Cas comes back from Purgatory, but before that Dean starts seeing him in places. Very tragic; hallucinating your dead significant other trope. Has That boner scene. Dean: “I did everything I could to get you out! EVERYTHING!” Cas helps Dean see what truly happened in Purgatory and not his self-altered memories. PACKED!

8x08 – Hunteri Heroici: Hilarious, romantic, intimate. Dean and Cas have an heart to heart. They actually communicate. Cas “I’ll watch over you.”

8x10 Torn and Frayed: They work a case together, and when I say heart eyes…

8x17 – Goodbye Stranger: THIS. EPISODE. Dean “I need you.”

8x19 – Taxi Driver: Separation. Naomi to Dean: "You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty; I only wish he felt the same way."

8x22 – Clip Show: Lack of trust, hurt, tense interactions. Romantic too (basically, Cas gets Dean an apology basket).

8x23 – Sacrifice: Meaningful conversation and a gay couple hit by Cupid parallel. Dean “So this is it? E.T goes home?"

Season 9

9x01 – I think I’m Gonna Like it Here: Dean prays to Cas IN.A.CHAPEL. Worry, longing, separation. Dean “Please, man, I need you here.”

9x03 – I’m No Angel: Human!Cas and jealous!Dean.

9x06 – Heaven Can’t Wait: Human!Cas TEXT-BOOK LONGING. GAY AS FUCK. Gazing, touching, they even TALK (for real).

9x09 – Holy Terror: Adorable Cas, flirty vibes, happyish, funny. Cas: “Cas is back in town!”

9x10 – Road Trip: Cas comforts Dean, Cas and Crowley bitching at each other, overall protective!Cas.

9x18 – Metafiction. Cas finds out about the Mark of Cain.

9x21 – King of the Damned: Hug, strong boyfriends vibes.

9x22 – Stairway to Heaven: Cas gives up an entire army, for Dean. Metatron about Cas “He's in love………………………. with humanity.”

9x23 – Do You Believe in Miracles?: At this point, it’s canon stated that Cas will do anything and lose everything if that means saving Dean. Metatron to Cas “You draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

Season 10

10x01 – Black: Demon!Dean and sick/brokenhearted Cas in a slutty robe missing his man.

10x03 – Soul Survivor: ICONIC. Angel on Demon action! Cas turns down Hannah because he’s too gay and in love. Intimate Deancas talk.

10x05 – Fan Fiction: No Cas, but Destiel references.

10x09 – The Things We Left Behind: That.Lunch.Date. Deancas introduction to co-parenting.

10x14 – The Executioner’s Song: We get Daddy Murder aka Cain. This is a Pivotal episode to understand Dean’s character development. Plus, it has Deancas interactions.

10x16 – Paint It Black: No Cas, but Dean opens up in confessionary; repressed BISEXUAL AS FUCK.

10x18 – Book of the Damned: Charlie meets Cas. Gay energies everywhere. Cute domestic little scene.

10x20 – Angel Heart: PARENTING! Essential to understand Cas from this point forward.

10x22 – The Prisoner: Just… just watch it. One of THEE Destiel episodes.

10x23 – Brother’s Keeper: No Deancas interactions but it’s the finale, and I recommend watching it because next season takes off literally right from here. No time jumps.

Season 11

11x02 – Form and Void: Could skip to the very end which is when Cas comes back.

11x03 – The Bad Seed: Cursed!Cas. Dean takes care of him, even wraps him in a blanket. He also cradles his face. Extreme Hurt/Comfort. Jacting joices rejoice.

11x10 – The Devil in the Details: Could skip but has Casifer in it. Interesting to see his dynamic with Dean.

11x18 – Hell’s Angel: Casifer. Dean "It? It's not an it, Sam, it's Cas!"

11x23 – Alpha and Omega: Huggg! Cas willing to go on a guaranteed suicide mission with Dean. Very tender and sad.

Season 12

12x02 – Keep Calm and Carry On: ANOTHER HUG! Dean presents his boyfriend to his mom<3 Soft and romantic.

12x09 – First Blood: Reunion hug<3, Cas pining… as in he counts his every minute without Dean.

12x10 – Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets: Direct parallel with canon couple. Crystal-clear mutual affection. One of the best. Angel Ishim to Cas about Dean “I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own… by cutting it out.”

12x12 – Stuck in the Middle with You: A dying Cas confesses his love. “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 – The Future: We find out Dean gave Cas a MIXTAPE!!! Very romantic and full of yearning, also worry and what could be seen as a betrayal (ish…).

12x23 – All Along the Watch Tower: Hands down, one of the most distressing Destiel episodes. Cas dies.

Season 13

13x01 – Lost and Found: This is the worst because you have Dean trying to assimilate Cas’ death. Core of Dean’s widow’s arc. Jack introduction, that’s their new kid.

13x02 – The Rising Son: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?).

13x03 – Patience: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?). Dean to Sam “He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!”

13x04 – The Big Empty: Continuation of widow’s arc and Cas wakes up in the Empty. The Empty to Cas: "I know who you love. There's nothing for you back there." // Dean to Sam “I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.”

13x05 – Advanced Thanatology: Suicidal and hopeless Dean gets his win. Cas comes back. Gives me the chills.

13x06 – Tombstone: COWBOY BOYFRIENDS!

13x14 – Good Intentions: Happy and fun Destiel scene. So Very Married.

13x23 – Let The Good Times Roll: Season finale, Dean talks about retiring (plans include Cas of course) and just very nice to see them interact.

Season 14

14x03 – The Scar: Reunion.

14x08 – Byzantium: Deanand Cas dealing with their child’s death, then bringing him back by Cas making a deal with the Empty. IMPORTANT EPISODE.

14x09 – The Spear: Cas uses the royal We – married behavior.

14x10 – Nihilism: Dean is stuck in his own mind, and Cas and Sam try to bring him back. Cas “Please, you have to -- you have to try to remember, because the people in your life -- in your real life, out there -- we need you to come back.”

14x12 – Prophet and Loss: Dean gets his very own Dr. Sexy, aka Dr. Cas.

14x14 – Ouroboros: Basically another date (their kid tags along) and They TALK. Very intimate and established marriage vibes.

14x18 – Absence: Shits starts to go south. [ Dean: “Who cares what Jack said? We don't know what happened! But I swear, if he did something to her, if she is -- (points to Castiel) Then you're dead to me. (Castiel looks crushed after Dean says that).]

14x20 – Moriah: Tense and very upsetting. Relationship very damaged.

Season 15 (I would advise watching the entire season because it relies heavily on Destiel. They’re the heart and the emotional motor leading the plot onwards.)

15x01 – Back and To The Future: Deancas’ in the aftermath of their kid’s death. Tension gets worse.

15x02 – Raising Hell: Tension rises, this is very intense. Cas “Dean. You asked, "What about all of this is real?" We are.”

15x03 – The Rupture: Breaking point ends in divorce.

15x06 – Golden Time: Painful phone call which speaks volumes about the current state of their relationship at the time. Also, good to see where they’re standing and how they’re coping.

15x08 – Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven: Strained relationship so obvious they’re offered couples’ therapy.

15x09 – The Trap: MASTERPIECE. Back to Purgatory. Can (and is) taken as Dean’s love confession (because it is).

15x12 – Galaxy Brain: So married. Little domestic date, you can see LOVE written in their faces.

15x13 – Destiny’s Child: AU!Dean and Sam. Not a yearning episode per se, but AU!Dean? SO GAY.

15x17 – Unity: God reveals that the only act of free will in any universe he ever created has been Cas choosing Dean.

15x18 – Despair: Cas confesses his love to Dean.

#Anonymous #thanks for coming to my ted talk #im posting this at 2:30 am so i'll most likely reblog it at a more reasonable hour ..in case anon is closer to my time zone #why am i even saying this..im sleepy #destiel #answered #destiel episode guide #there might be number/name mistakes because again sleepish.forgive me #long post

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

Jaskier has a mission. Nay, an important goal in life. He is going to feel Geralt’s muscles if it is the last thing he’ll do. Surely, it can’t be that hard to accomplish this noblest of goals. He has charmed his way into many a bed before. How hard can it be to convince Geralt to let him touch him a little?

Turns out, it is very hard. Not necessarily the touching itself – Geralt enjoys a nice friendly massage from his friend that is completely on friendly terms, with nothing but friendship in mind – but how on earth is Jaskier supposed to hide the fact that he may or may not feel something other for Geralt?

Massages are great, but Jaskier’s fingers twitch to feel his muscles in action. And his supply of the chamomile oil he had bought in Novigrad is quickly running low and that stuff was expensive.

Jaskier needs a plan. Somehow he will find a way to feel Geralt’s muscles without revealing that he was a bit more than just friendly with Geralt.

“Listen, Geralt, you’ve got this.” Jaskier’s hands are clutched tightly around Geralt’s upper arms. “You are a witcher. A little feast like that is not going to intimidate you.”

Geralt’s eyebrows knit together. “Jaskier-“

“You just have to believe in yourself.” He gives the muscles a little squeeze and oh they are even harder than he had imagined.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls again and naturally, Jaskier ignores him.

“You are already dressed up – rather nicely might I say. You’re welcome by the way for the clothes – you cannot run from this now.” He lets go of one arm and pats Geralt on the shoulders, sucking in a sharp breath. He definitely needs to find more excuses to touch those. “You just have to go in there and face those nobles like you would any other threat.”

“I have been ready to go in there for the past five minutes,” Geralt says with a roll of his eyes. He doesn’t shrug Jaskier’s hands off though. Jaskier counts that as a definite win. “You are the one delaying this. Are you nervous?”

Jaskier snorts. “Me? Absolutely not. I have been looking forward to performing here.”

Geralt’s lips twitches upwards a tiny bit. “Then why are you still out here giving me a motivational speech I don’t need?”

Jaskier’s mouth opens and closes, trying to find the right way of not saying Oh, you know, I just wanted to take the opportunity to feel those gorgeous muscles of yours.

Geralt thankfully misinterprets the embarrassed noises leaving his mouth. “So you are scared after all.”

“I, well, that’s…. true.”

“I’m not going to give you a motivational speech.” Geralt smirks, nodding his head in the direction of the hall, where people in fancy clothes are already waiting for music. “Come on then.”

Geralt makes to leave, when Jaskier calls out for him in once last-ditch attempt to be close to him for a little longer.

“It’s a formal event,” he blurts, mind racing with stupid ideas. “You are my plus one, so you’ll have to offer me your arm.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the nobles, none of which are walking arm in arm. Still, Geralt holds out his arm for Jaskier to take. Jaskier takes the invitation with a grin and the feeling that the first step of his plan was a thorough success.

“Say, what do you think about expanding my performance a bit?” Jaskier asks and if his words are already a bit slurred from the alcohol, then there is no one around to judge. At least no one sober.

“Hmm?”

That is unfair. How is Jaskier supposed to know if Geralt’s speech is just as warped as his, when he doesn’t even open his mouth?

“You know,” Jaskier said. “Expanding.” He spreads his arms, accidentally hitting Geralt in the chest. Nice.

“How?”

Jaskier can see the instant regret in Geralt’s eyes, when Jaskier stands up on wobbly feet, doing his best to drag Geralt with him. It doesn’t work. Damn those muscles. But also, thank the gods for those muscles.

“With a performance.” He makes a grand gesture and if he has to hold on to Geralt for stability then who can fault him? “Do you want to see what I have in mind?”

“No –“

“Here’s my epic tale

Our champion prevailed!”

At the last words, Jaskier grabs Geralt’s forearm, exposed by the rolled up sleeves, and lifts the arm high in the air like he had seen the athletes in Oxenfurt do whenever they won something. It had always looked stupid, but now, feeling Geralt’s muscles tense under his fingers as he clenches his fist, he suddenly understands the appeal.

“Performance of the year,” Geralt says flatly, when Jaskier finally lets go of his arm.

“Thank you so much, dear. Your praise means a lot.” He winks at Great. “And since you are so taken with this performance, I have even more suggestions.”

Geralt groans.

“I have always thought that you should add a little choreography for He thrust every-“

Geralt gets up and turns to leave before Jaskier can finish the sentence. “That’s it, you’re too drunk.”

“Maybe so,” Jaskier says with a grin. “But you, my dear witcher are blushing.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jaskier says and moves around Geralt to stand in his way, hands on his hips.

“Going on a hunt.”

“Like that? Your armour is completely loose” Jaskier gestures to the armour that is very much not lose. In fact, it looks as perfect as ever. “You’ll have to tighten it or it’ll fall off mid fight. Here, I’ll just...“

„What are you doing?“ Geralt asks when Jaskier steps closer, but he doesn’t move back when Jaskier reaches for his shoulder pads.

“I’m tightening them.” Jaskier loosens them, only to tighten them again. The more time spend like this the better. “Making sure they won’t come loose.”

His hands trail over Geralt’s chest plate to his abs.

Geralt grunts. “I know how to put my armour on correctly.”

He still doesn’t push Jaskier away, but Jaskier can feel his eyes burning into him, as his hands linger on Geralt’s abdomen. He can’t really feel anything through the leather, but maybe if he presses against him for long enough, the abs might start imprinting on the armour. It’s a stupid though, but a man can dream.

“Jaskier, get up.”

Geralt nudges him and Jaskier forces himself not to react. This was a brilliant plan. Foolproof, even.

“Come on, you have to get to bed.”

Oh, yes. But Jaskier isn’t going to walk up the stairs of the inn himself. He does his best to imitate the deep breaths of sleep, his head resting on his arms on the table.

“Jaskier.”

He pretends to snore a little, just for good measure. Maybe Geralt will finally get the hint that he is supposed to carry him in his arms, because surely, he can’t be cruel enough to wake a sleeping man.

Geralt huffed. “Fine.”

Jaskier felt Geralt move up from the bench. Jaskier opens an eye a tiny bit, to see Geralt reach for him. Ha! Victory is his!

Geralt carefully lifts him up – and throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

If Jaskier wasn’t so hellbent on getting carried by Geralt, he would voice his indignation. How dare Geralt turn what could have been a wholesome and sexy experience into this! The audacity!

On the other hand, this might not be the most comfortable way to get carried up the stairs, but it certainly allowes a great view on Geralt’s lovely behind.

Once in their room, Geralt sets Jaskier down on the bed, steadying him with a hand to guide him down gently in a lying position.

Jaskier keeps his eyes tightly shut. This is going wonderfully! He can’t believe he actually managed to fool Geralt! Oh, he is absolutely going to pretend to be asleep more often.

Geralt lifts the blanked over him and Jaskier can feel him lean in closer, until his breath ghosts over the shell of his ear. Jaskier’s heart flutters.

“You know I can hear your heartbeat. It’s way too fast for you to be asleep.” Jaskier can practically hear the smirk in his voice, but he still refuses to open his eyes. Maybe, if he just keeps on pretending, he can save his dignity. “Also, you were giggling the whole way up the stairs.”

Jaskier watches the fight with held breath. He has seen Geralt fight humans and monsters before. But seeing him spar with another witcher is something entirely different. What would Jaskier give to still live in a time when fighters didn’t wear armour in their sparring but instead rubbed oil all over their muscles to make them gleam in the sunlight? Jaskier would gladly give the little he had left of his chamomile oil to see that. Well, maybe not in winter in the witchers’ keep where it took forever to get warm.

Geralt finally manages to get Eskel in a choke hold and Eskel surrenders.

“Since when is he such a show-off?”

Jaskier turns to Lambert, who is standing next to him with crossed arms and a mocking grin on his lips.

“What do you mean?”

Lambert snorts. “Nothing, songbird. Just that Geralt seems to care awfully lot about looking stronger than Eskel and me ever since you came here. It’s almost like that moron is showing off.”

A smirk spreads across Jaskier’s face. “Oh is that so?”

He turns back to Geralt, who is coincidentally looking in their direction with a scowl.

“Time to test your theory.” Jaskier winks at Lambert, before shouting in Geralt’s direction. “You think you’re so strong, don’t you?”

Lambert snickers and Eskel and Geralt only stare at him as though he just said the stupidest thing. Which he did.

“What?” Geralt says and his eyes dart between Lambert and Jaskier.

“I mean” Jaskier gesticulates helplessly at Geralt. “You have this strong man persona. But are you actually strong? I bet you couldn’t – just an example at the top of my head – pick me up.”

Jaskier holds his breath as Geralt walks closer. He is going to do it! He is going to lift Jaskier!

And he walks right past.

“Hey, what are you-“ Lambert’s protests are interrupted by Geralt lifting him up and throwing him into the snow.

He turns to Jaskier with a lifted eyebrow. “That strong enough for you?”

This is it. He can’t do this anymore. It has been a month since Jaskier ran out of chamomile oil and the massages just haven’t been the same since. They are still great, of course, but now he doesn’t have the excuse of “Oh, Geralt, we can’t stop just yet. The oil still has to… absorb into your skin” anymore. To be honest, Jaskier isn’t even sure if that’s a thing oil does, but Geralt doesn’t need to know that.

The point is that Jaskier is touch-starved.

He is getting desperate.

Maybe he could try to teach Geralt how to play the lute, if only so that he could stand behind him, lay his arms around Geralt’s body – if he could even reach that far – and guide his fingers while his chest presses against Geralt’s broad back.

A dreamy sigh escapes Jakier’s mouth, at the image. It hitches, when a terrifying thought pops into his head unbidden. Geralt would probably crush his precious lute with his huge muscles. As sexy, as that would undoubtedly look, Jaskier can’t lose his lute to his raging desire to touch Geralt. Jaskier is desperate, but not that desperate. Not yet.

However ...

“Hey,” he calls out to Geralt, who is sitting on a fallen tree, sharpening his sword. “Don’t you think it’s time I learn how to fight?”

Geralt stares at him blankly. “Since when do you want to fight?”

“Well, um, since, you know..” Jaskier stutters. “There are angry spouses and um.. monsters and...”

“And I always protect you from them, don’t I?” Something twitches in Geralt’s jaw.

“Well, yes, of course you do,” Jaskier says, scratching his head doing his best to come up with an excuse. “But when we part ways again…” he trails of. That is not the kind of thing he wants to think about right now. Or ever, really.

Geralt frowns and stopps working on his sword to look up at Jaskier instead. There is something hesitant in his eyes. “You want to leave?”

“No!” Jaskier says so quickly it might be considered embarrassing.

Geralt huffs and it sounds almost fond. “Then I guess there’s no need for you to learn just yet.”

“Are you saying you like having to save my pretty arse every other day?” Geralt resumes his work with a grunt. It is probably supposed to look dismissive, but Jaskier can’t help but feel like Geralt is trying to hide a blush behind the hair falling in front of his face. Jaskier leans forward a bit. “You do like it! Admit it, that’s the reason you don’t want to teach me.”

“Piss off, bard,” Geralt grumbles, but Jakier is now sure that the tips of Geralt’s ears are turning a lovely shade of pink. Interesting.

Jaskier might not have achieved his goal for the day, but he certainly isn’t complaining about this development. A new plan is already forming in his mind. His most brilliant plan yet.

“I am begging you, Priscilla, you have to help me. This is a matter of life and death.”

The girls lifts an eyebrow. “Yes, it is. But not because you are going to get your heart broken, but because your bones will break if you jump out of that window.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Jaskier says, brimming with excitement. “Geralt won’t let that happen. I am sure of it. He said he likes protecting me!”

“Oh did he now?”

“Well…” Jaskier rubs his neck. “Not in so many words, but he implied it.”

“Uh-huh.” She crosses her arms.

“Please! Priscilla. Dearest. My best friend and sun of my life. The most talented performer I know. Except for me, of course.” Priscilla snorts at his words, but the grin says that he is well on his way to winning her over. “All of those years of you studying acting have led to this glorious moment. The most important performance of your life.”

“Flattery will not always work, you know?” She says, but sighs in defeat. “But fine. I will play along.”

Jaskier beams and hugs her close. She swats him away.

“Alright,” Jaskier says and rubs his hands together in excitement. “we don’t have time to rehearse. Just improvise. Geralt will be back from the market any moment.”

“What is he doing there anyway?”

Jaskier shrugs. “I don’t know. Buying something very important, apparently. He was quite adamant about going to the Novigrad market as soon as possible.”

Priscilla doesn’t answer, but her brows lift as she looks out of the window. “Is that him?”

Jaskier sprints over to her and his heart starts pounding. It’s now or never.

“I think I understand you now,” she says with an appreciative whistle. “Who wouldn’t jump out of a window for this man?”

She winks. And in the blink of an eye she is in character.

“Jaskier, you croaking pheasant!” she shrieks. “Get your sorry arse out of here!”

Jaskier inches closer to the window and looks down to see if Geralt was close enough to catch him yet. Not quite.

“There is a misunderstanding. I didn’t-“

“The only misunderstanding here is the size of your dick!” Jaskier gapes. Priscilla’s eyes twinkle. She is having far too much fun with this.

“Now, there’s no reason to –“

“Tell that to someone else!”

Another look down. Geralt is still standing a few feet away from where he would land, but he was looking up at him. This is it. Jaskier sends one last look at Priscilla who is grinning at him, before he jumps.

The air rushes past him, ruffling his hair.

And then he is caught, strong arms wrapping around him as Geralt finally holds him bridal style. Jaskier can finally feel the strength of those biceps. He finally knows what it feels like to be pressed against that chest.

“I did it! I actually did it!”

The euphoria rushing through him vanishes as soon as he meets Geralt’s eyes. He freezes.

“Oh Fuck.”

From up above he can hear Priscilla snicker and what sounds like a smack against a forehead. But all he can focus on is Geralt.

“I swear I did not mean to say that.”

Geralt’s mouth twitches. “I gathered that much.”

Jaskier’s heart skips a beat. It doesn’t sound like Geralt is angry. At least a small mercy. Now he is only left with the embarrassment of having to explain himself. All while still being held in Geralt’s arms. This is not how he had planned this.

“I…” he sighs. Even as a master poet, there is no way he can find a believable excuse for this. He closes his eyes. “This is going to sound stupid. But I may or may not have wanted to be carried by you like this for a long time.” See, that wasn’t so bad. Now all he has to do is shut up. “Actually, I just really wanted to feel your muscles and this seemed like the best way. But really, any way would be great.”

This is it. The moment that Geralt is going to drop him like a cat, except that Jaskier will not gracefully land on his feet, but on the earth that will hopefully swallow him whole so that no one can witness is shame.

Instead the arms around him tighten.

“Should we have gone to Novigrad sooner then?” Geralt ask.

Jaskier blinks. “Sorry, what does what I just said have anything to do with us coming here? That was your idea not mine. It was a happy coincidence that my friend was here to help me.”

Geralt starts shaking slightly and it takes Jaskier a moment to realise that what’s wrecking Geralt’s body is silent laughter.

“My breast pocket,” Geralt says and there is a glint in his eyes.

Jaskier hesitates for a second, before reaching into the pocket. His fingers find something cool and smooth. With furrowed brows he pulls the small bottle out. His eyes snap to Geralt.

“I am sorry, but I need you to spell this out for me. Why exactly is this the reason why you needed to go to the market so urgently?”

Geralt looks almost sheepish. “You always say that you prefer massaging me with the oil and I … I like it when you touch me.”

Jaskier gapes at him. “Are you” he stabs a finger at Geralt’s wonderfully firm chest. “seriously telling me that all this time I could have just asked to touch you?”

“Sure, you could have asked.” Geralt’s grin comes back in full force and that glint turns mischievous. “But watching you come up with all those stupid plans to touch me was just so much fun.”

#Jaskier might have some not so stupid plans about what to do with that oil now if you catch my drift #maybe Geralt will find out if there is a misunderstanding regarding Jaskier’s size #guess they’ll add the thrusting part to the choreography now #I’m so sorry I’m horrible at making innuendos #Geraskier #idiots being idiots #the witcher #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #my writing #it was either this or writing something super angsty without happy ending

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

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Before we start, I'd like to say that the below combination....speaks to me, on a personal level.

WHEW.

12x02: Mamma Mia

This episode *eyeroll* - there were like...five? good things about it.

(Mary Winchester as the OG John Winchester Apologist not being one of them.)

wrong.

Anyway, here is the only good stuff from 12x02.

INTERIOR: SAM AND TONI ARE IN BED RELAXING AND HOLDING GLASSES OF WINE.

For the life of me this is the ONLY DECENT THING I CAN FIND FOR this scene and I do not understand how that’s possible. You can’t even see her face. Damn.

There are so many good shots in this!!!! Someone make me a better .gif. Maybe cut Sam out of it?

Update: semi-acceptable follow-up image:

Sexual escapades are actually a continuing theme in the torture:

TONI

Good morning, Sam. Let's start again, shall we? Take our time. I've cleared my calendar. I would like names and locations of every Hunter... the passcodes to each and every Men of Letters database held in the bunker, and then – oh, yes – let's do discuss your relationship with the demon Ruby.

** Can’t find the actual reaction to this, so hey let’s play Sam reacts but wrong episodes ONLY**

SEXUAL ESCAPADE THEME RECURS HERE:

[INTERIOR: THE CELLAR, TONI LOOKS OVER HER TORTURE TOOLS AND PICKS UP BRASS KNUCKLES. SHE WALKS OVER AND SLUGS DEAN.]

TONI: Passcodes, Sam. Not yet?

[TONI LOOKS OVER AT DEAN WHO’S CHAINED WITH HIS HANDS OVER HIS HEAD.]

TONI: Anything to add?

DEAN: No. No, I just came by for some tea and a beating.

[TONI: PUTS DOWN THE BRASS KNUCKLES AND PICKS UP A CUP OF TEA.]

TONI: Really? See, I thought you might be on for a little chat about your mate, Benjamin Lafitte. I'm sorry. You called him Benny. You know, the vampire whom you released from Purgatory and...befriended.

***she sips her fucking tea after she says “befriended” suggestively. SHE. SIPS. HER. TEA. This is not a drill***

I see. Well... the English are nothing if not patient.

BONUS - actual footage of Lady Motherfucking Antonia Bevell deciphering the past 11 seasons of subtext in respect to Dean’s sexuality:

Bi!Dean confirmed.

QUEEN DID NOT COME TO PLAY.

Dean’s spiral at the bunker

CASTIEL: Okay, I understand. I'll call you in the morning.

[WHILE TALKING, DEAN RISES AND STARTS PACING.]

DEAN: Cass, hey. So, here's the thing. It's been kind of weird here with, you know, Mom being back. It's like we don't know how to act around each other, so we just kind of make this small talk and act normal, but it's – it's so not normal.

CASTIEL: Um, I'm – I'm not sure. What – what has she said to you?

DEAN: Well, nothing. That – that – that's the whole point.

CASTIEL: Okay, what have you said to her?

CASTIEL HANGS UP.

DEAN: Yeah. Great. That's helpful. Thanks.

***Dean is so OPEN with Cas on this call. You can tell this is a deeper, different dynamic and it really shows how close they’ve gotten after that heart wrenching Season 11 finale. these NEWLYWEDS. they are in a RELATIONSHIP. And Cas’s terrible attempt at helping also shows how new and fresh it is, how they’re working through how to “be” this new way together, Dean still working on how to express feelings without spiraling, Cas clumsily trying to support him. I AM GOOOOOOO.

This is a fucking warm blanket.

Also confirmed by the subsequent scene, because otherwise WHY EVEN HAVE THIS DIALOGUE in the follow-up call:

DEAN

Hey, Cass, what do you got?

[EXTERIOR: DAY, CASTIEL IS STANDING SLIGHTLY BEHIND A VERY LEAFY TREE.]

CASTIEL

I think I may have found Sam's location. It's a farm. It appears empty, but it was rented two weeks ago to a woman with an English accent.

[DURING THE CONVERSATION THE SCENE SWITCHES BETWEEN THE BUNKER AND THE EXTERIOR OF THE FARMHOUSE.]

DEAN

Did you have a look inside?

CASTIEL

No No, it's – it's powerfully warded.

***Cas asks because he’s not sure if Dean is trying to talk about his feelings again or if it’s still about the case, because this is THAT NEW (and he probably had an ENTIRE headcase moment about his prior horrific attempt to “help” so he’s worked up all sorts of tidbits of advice for next time) *** <- can someone ficlet this little plot hole? I need it in my life.

THAT IS THE ONLY REASON TO HAVE THIS HERE. THERE IS NO OTHER REASON.

BONUS:

Remember Castiel’s pimp mobile?

That new husband energy:

HES SO DAPPER HERE. All the heart eyes.

Helpful husband moment

[EXTERIOR: DAY, OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE. THE IMPALA PULLS UP. CASTIEL IS LEANING AGAINST THE TRUCK. DEAN AND MARY EXIT THE IMPALA AND WALK UP TO CASTIEL.]

DEAN

Where's all this warding you mentioned?

CASTIEL

It's cloaked. It's very powerful. You brought your mother?

MARY

Hello, Castiel. Yes, he did.

DEAN

You sure there's anyone inside?

CASTIEL

No. The agent said the lease was handled long distance, but someone warded the house.

DEAN

I'm gonna go have a closer look.

[MARY STARTS TO FOLLOW DEAN.]

DEAN: Mom, I got this.

[DEAN SHAKES HIS HEAD IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT THEN LOOKS TO CASTIEL FOR HELP.]

DEAN: Thanks.

[[DEAN LOOKS AT CASTIEL GRATEFULLY AND WALKS AWAY.]

***This entire scene deserves a thorough rewatch. Go watch it now. Bathe in the serotonin. I watched it probably 6 times. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE FACIAL EXPRESSIONS. Cas saying “you brought your mother” because he KNOWS how worried and overprotective Dean is of her, already. This is Destiel peak supportive husband and Mary is realizing it and its just all so fucking cute and happy. Bravo to all of your Acting Choices!

PIEEEEEEE

I will not go into my PhD dissertation about how pie is a metaphor for the true happiness and love Dean Winchester desires and DESERVES but feels like he cannot have because it will be snatched away from him.

I will not go into it at this time. (It will also make me even ANGRIER about what they DID TO PIE in 15x20. I am still healing).

I repeat, I will not go in to it - unless -

Kitchen confidential

Look where Dean is relaxing, with a beer or 3, and looking at old family pictures at the end. It’s not his room.

It’s the kitchen. He’s just hanging out in the kitchen, comfortably as if he does this often.

Remember when Lucifer was possessing Cas in 11x18 and we had this scene, where Cas is in his head but in the Winchesters’ kitchen and - I wondered -

If his happy place

was

the Winchesters’ kitchen. And why.

THIS SHOW.

I guess the good in this episode took up more space than expected. I’m sorry for spamming you guys with this long, back to back Season 12 content, but I have a dossier.

And I’m just getting started.

BONUS:

MICK

Here’s my number.

Also, picturing this, but in Casifer, said TO Rick Springfield.

#tbh this turned out longer than expected #maybe season 12 is actually the best season #I guess I should apologize for these treatises in advance #spn #destiel #spn family #spn fandom #supernatural #deancas #spn 12x02 #Toni bevell #spn meta #spn recap #spn season 12 #but seriously why rick springfield

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yukichouji · 2 years

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Theron as a companion

I was tagged by the wonderful @heniareth to do this ages ago. Life has been keeping me plenty busy, but I finally managed! This was so much fun to do. I think it falls a bit short in places maybe, not being as detailed or thorough as I’d have liked, but I am still happy I managed to finish it at all :) So, I hope you enjoy it either way and thank you again so much for tagging me and giving me the opportunity to try this! :)

The actual post is under the cut, since it is long af

Theron Mahariel as a companion

Name: Theron Mahariel

Warden status: He is not a gray warden

Race / Class / Specialization: Dalish elf, rouge, dual-wielding and bow and arrow, ranger specialization

Pronouns: He/him

Story and game mechanics

Introduction:

Theron is a member of the Dalish clan in the Berillican Forest. He is a hunter there and his lover was a member of the last party sent into the forest against the werewolves. His lover was not amongst the wounded and hast yet to return. Theron is seething with worry and anger at being denied his request to head into the forest in search of him. He is young and rash and loud, often makes decisions before thinking properly. All heart and very passionate about what he believes in. He has a strong sense of right and wrong and he will jump in, daggers blazing, if he feels like someone is being mistreated or someone he cares about is in danger, his own well-being or the general consequences be damned.

Recruitment:

You meet him as one of the hunters of the dalish clan in the Berillican forest. He seems very uneasy, worried and frustrated, because his lover was one of the hunters sent out with the last party but he did not return with the wounded and his keeper is refusing to do anything about it or to let Theron himself go out searching. When you are preparing to leave the camp for the forest you will get a cut scene where Theron corners you and demands you take him along, despite the keeper’s wishes. If you refuse you will gain disapproval, approval, if you agree. After the werewolf problem is dealt with either by making peace or killing the werewolves, Theron says he cannot stay with his clan any longer and asks you to take him with you on your journey because he recognizes it as worthy and the warden as well for having helped the elves. (He is not taking the death of his lover well). If you side with the werewolves and kill his clan, you will have to kill him as well and no longer be able to recruit him.

Where can they be found in camp?

Near Zevran and Leliana by the campfire. He likes the warmth and craves the company, after having left his clan behind. The loneliness and the feeling of being lost have a tendency to creep up in the dark and quiet.

Companion Quest:

Theron’s companion quest comes in two parts and it starts right after you meet him, technically before you’ve even officially recruited him. It consists in looking for and finding his lover. Upon finding Tallan, you will learn that he has been infected by the curse and is beyond saving and he will ask you to kill him before he can hurt his own, especially Theron (upon seeing him there). Theron is angry and desperate, but upon talking to Tallan and hearing his request finds that he must concede for there seems to be no other way. Theron asks the warden to let him be the one to do it, but Tallan asks the warden not to allow it, because Tallan knows Theron won’t forgive himself. Letting Theron do it will gain you approval and his gratitude, not letting him do it will gain disapproval.

After the Berillican Forest quest has been concluded and Theron has been recruited, he will ask to go back and give Tallan a proper elven burial. The ceremony, if you agree, will be the conclusion of his personal quest and gain additional approval.

Can they be hardened?

No. Theron is who he is and he will not be moved from his principles, even if he feels afloat and kind of lost right now.

Gain approval by

Siding with the elves and killing the werewolves

Making peace between the elves and werewolves (once the truth has been revealed and the cursed are healed)

Bringing the young lovers together in his clan

Helping the sick halla

Helping the elves in the alienage in Denerim

Not agreeing to the blood ritual

Anything to do with helping the elves basically

Standing with Zevran during his personal quest

Helping the castless in Orsamar

Making Behlen king

Gain disapproval by

Talking to the werewolves and agreeing to make peace will initially gain disapproval but that will be made up for by the approval gain at the end + a bonus of positive approval

Killing Zevran when you first meet him

Any decision that will harm an elf/elves

Killing Connor instead of trying to save him

Deciding to let the Templars kill the mages after first enchanter Erving has been saved

Agreeing to do Caladrius’ blood ritual in the alienage will gain massive disapproval

Making Harrowmont king

What gifts would they appreciate?

Practical things that remind him of his people. An elven hunting bow, a well-crafted dagger found in an old elvhen ruin. A small, wooden halla statuette. A pendant you found in the elven camp in the Berillican Forest that used to belong to Tallan.

Feast Day gift? (+50 approval)

A Collection of Tales from elvhen Myth and History as told by Keeper Marathari of Clan Sabrae collected and written down by an anonymous author. These tales are collected in a hand-wirtten notebook that has seen better days for sure. It is rare to find a collection of elvhen tales that has not been dissected and taken apart under an Andrastian viewpoint, but left as is. Without comment or evaluation.

“These are – I can keep them? Really? You have gifted me a piece of home. I have no idea where you found these, but I thank you. This means a lot.”

Feast Day prank? (-50 sapproval)

Andrastianism for beginners and converts, by Sister Allana. A leather-bound, lovingly illustrated guide to Andrastian belief. Meant for anyone willing to shrug off their old sins and misled beliefs and let the Maker into their heart. Fear not child, for you shall be guided into the light alongside us.

“If this is supposed to be a joke it’s not fucking funny. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll whack you over the head with it? You’ll be hearing the fucking chant of light ringing in your ears for days. It’ll be great, I swear.”

Can they be romanced?

Yes, though only by a male warden and there will be higher approval necessary before he can be romanced for any warden who is not an elf. His romance shows a different side of him. While he often seems brash and rushed within regular interactions, the warden learns that much of his restlessness comes from the deep hurt he has received through the perceived betrayal of his keeper and the loss of his lover and that there is an almost shy side to him as well. That he is gentle and kind and seeking guidance, wanting to entrust himself, when he allows his guard to slip. His romance is surprisingly sweet and he is fiercely loyal once the warden has moved past his walls and won over his heart. Which might take a bit of work, but is more than worth it.

Would they be interested in sex?

Yes, more easily than he’d be interested in an actual romance. Because he uses it to run away from his grief and his confusion. If the warden is male and sleeping with Zevran, upon high enough approval, Theron will agree to join them for a threesome if asked.

Is there a gift they will give to their partner/the Warden?

A dagger that used to belong to his mother, who was also a hunter for the clan. She gave it to him when he brought back his first kill, shortly before she was attacked and killed by a band of shem bandits while out hunting. It is the only thing he kept to remember her by and giving it to the (romanced) warden is, to him, the same thing as giving over his heart.

How do they react if another companion is being romanced?

He has some snarky comments to make for each of the romance options. If approval is bad they will be a bit more biting, if approval is good they will be milder. He will get defensive, if it seems like the Warden is being unkind to their lover and jump to the companion’s defense, whether he likes said companion or not.

What companions do they…

1. Like the most?

Zevran, Leliana, Morrigan, Shale, dog. It turns out Theron and Zevran have a lot to bond over and even if they don’t get into a relationship they end up becoming friends. Leliana, at first isn’t quite for Theron, because he does not trust her devotion to the Chantry, but after a couple of conversations he realizes that she is respectful and eager to learn. After they get closer he quickly learns to appreciate her special brand of weird and her sense of humor. Shale is a basket case and Theron can very much work with that. Dog is a dog and Theron loves animals so they’re great.

2. Flirt with?

Zevran. (I know this was not a thing in DAO, yet, but I really liked that companions would start relationships with each other if not romanced in 2&3, so I am being self-indulgent and adding it) Theron happily flirts back, when Zevran flirts with him. If neither Zevran nor Theron are romanced they will begin sleeping with each other. At first it is not more than a way to distract and kill time for both of them, but over time they grow closer. They have a lot in common, shared grief and lost love, feeling like they have lost the only home they have ever known. But they learn that they can help each other bear these burdens and they become stronger for it.

3. Just get along?

Wynne, Sten, Oghren. Wynne seems very set in her ways and views and they often clash heavily with Theron’s. After a while Theron does recognize that she is trying her best to do good, in the way that she can, and so he does not actively hate her or anything. He accepts her for what she is and appreciates what she does for them, but he’s never going to be best friends with her. Sten is honorable and an amazing warrior, but he also lives and functions by a code Theron can neither understand nor relate to. It seems to negate emotion completely for the sake of rational and set rules and that is something that feels nothing but suffocating to Theron. He respects Sten, but he can’t really get close to him. Oghren is just Oghren. Theron is happy to joke around with him but he also can’t help but pity the man and worry for him.

4. Start a rivalry with?

Loghain, if recruited. Theron can not stand the man and all of that blood on his hands, especially if the Warden has romanced Theron or high approval with him. Theron would have a grand old time being snarky and insulting and making Loghain’s life at camp miserable.

Does Shale have a name for them?

The brash, painted elf

What’s their opinion on handling the Blight?

He’s looking forward to the final battle. Making a stand and facing the enemy head on seems like the best option to him. The darkspawn terrify him, not to mention the Archdemon, but that fear just fuels his anger and he’s itching to have an outlet for it. He likes to act as though he doesn’t give a shit about politics and who the Warden sides with over what, as long as he gets to slit some darkspawn throats, but in truth he does care and he has some strong opinions on some of those choices he’ll definitely share if he’s in the party at the time.

What allies do they wish to seek aid from? (Would they rather preserve the mages in the tower to gain their assistance? Would they rather assist Harrowmont to get the support of the Dwarves? Etc.)

Theron isn’t sure about the Dalish. Since that is the quest he is recruited during and it is also the one that makes him turn his back on his clan, he will be unsure whether he wants the Dalish to be sucked into this war, but he also sees the necessity of doing something. There will be no approval or disapproval either way. With the Dwarves, he strongly advocates for Bhelen, because he is promising to change things for the castless and Theron doesn’t so much care about Bhelen’s methods if they end up making a change that will ease suffering. He also advocates for recruiting the mages over the Templars, especially once first enchanter Irving has been saved.

Is there anything that would make them turn on the party?

Siding with the werewolves over the evles will make him turn on you and he will fight you to the death to protect his people, in which case he does not count as being recruited. Later, if his approval is low and the warden agrees to do Caladius’ blood ritual in the alienage he will turn on the party as well, trying to prevent it.

What do they do following the Blight (if they had an Epilogue Card what would it say)?

[If he was romanced and the warden lived]

Despite the secret longing to return to his people, Theron stayed by the Warden’s side. Following wherever the Warden decided to lead without question or complaint, for his loyalty had been won and he would hold onto that until his dying breath. [If his companion quest has been completed] After some time had passed, though, the Warden helped him track down his old clan and, with much gentle insistence, Theron finally caved and reached out. A peace was made and the Warden and Theron visited whenever their duties would allow, the heroes who had stopped the 5th blight always welcome amongst the elves. Though Theron regretted much of what had happened, his decision to join the Warden and the love Theron found with him, was never amongst that. [If his companion quest was not completed] Though Theron often felt regret for how he had parted with his clan and never truly rid himself of the ache of longing for his home amongst his people, he was not able to overcome his bitterness at his keeper’s betrayal and Tallan’s death. He never made an attempt to reach out and he never returned home, not even in passing. Some pain and emptiness lingering always.

[If he was romanced and the warden died]

Crushed by the weight of his grief, having lost his love once again, Theron did not remain with the rest of the companions for long. He left soon after the burial, unable to stay and be reminded of his loss wherever he turned. [If his companion quest has not been completed] Returning to his clan, though he yearned for the familiar comfort, did not feel possible either since he’d never found closure for Tallan’s death and his keeper’s betrayal. So he wandered the world alone, first through Ferelden, then across the Waking Sea into the Marches and farther West after that. Keeping away from humans and elves alike. He was last seen crossing the border into Anderfels, then vanished without a trace. [If his companion quest was completed] Defeated, Theron returned to his clan, hoping to find some comfort in the company of his own. Still, there the shadow of Tallan’s death and his keeper’s betrayal lingered and while he did his best to continue on with his life as he should, he never quite managed. Even amongst his people, he stayed alone, until one day a hunt took him too far away from his group and found his death in one final battle with a band of stray wolves.

[If the warden lived with high approval and Zevran was romanced by the warden]

Theron stayed with the Wardens for a while, helping train new recruits and rebuild what was lost. After some, though, he began to get restless and decided to head out into the world on his own. [If the warden lived with low approval and Zevran was romanced by the warden] Theron did not stay long in Denerim, deciding instead to go out on his own and see more of the world. His travels took him all over the continent, seeing places far and wide and gathering many a tale to tell. [If his companion quest was completed] Eventually, he found his way back to his old clan, finally ready to make peace with his past and returning home into the warm and loving arms of his people. Settling back into a life he’d longed for all this while. [If his companion quest was not completed] The one place he never returned to were the dwellings of his old clan. The feelings of loss and betrayal to strong to move past. Yet still, the emptiness he carried around in his chest where once his home and his people lived, never left him.

[If neither he nor Zevran have been romanced by the warden]

Theron and Zevran decided to travel together for a while. They make their way to Antiva together and as Zevran takes down the leaders of the crows one by one, Theron is by his side, always. Standing with him as Zevran takes the now vacant seat at the head of the crows. [If Theron’s companion quest has been completed] Years later, after some semblance of stability has been returned to the organization of assassins, Zevran and Theron manage to find Theron’s old clan and, Theron’s hands clammy with nerves but Zevran’s presence at his side a calming warmth, they seek them out. Theron returning home for the first time since his first love died, bringing a new love with him. Ready to forgive and make his peace with his past. They are, both, welcomed with open arms and boisterous joy. Theron and Zevran grow old together, hand in hand, slipping away whenever their responsibility within the crows allows it, to visit their new-found and re-gained family among the Dalish.

❗️Special Events❗️

Mage Tower: What vision is created to trick them while in the Fade?

He is in the forests of his childhood, out on a hunt with Tallan and a handful of his friends and clan members.

Haven: What does The Guardian say about them before beginning the trial?

“Theron Mahariel, you have turned your back on your people and your past in an attempt to leave behind the pain it caused you. How have your efforts suited you? Was the sacrifice you made worth where you are now? Or has trying to run from it only served to make the pain grow worse, like a cancer eating away at you slowly?”

What is their reaction to finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes?

“(angrily) It is so like the Shem to erase one of our own from their history. I wonder how the Chantry would react to that being revealed? I bet they’d rather see all of us dead than admit to the truth of it.”

Denerim: Do they have any parting words before the final battle with the Darkspawn?

[If the warden has high approval and his companion quest was done]

“It has been an honor to fight by your side all this time, Warden. I have learned many things from you and I will gladly follow you into this last battle as well. No matter how it ends. Let’s go out there and kick some darkspawn but! They won’t know what hit them!”

[If he was romanced by the warden and his companion quest was done]

“When you buried Tallan with me and I left my people behind, I thought I’d never find anything like that again. I felt lost and angry and I didn’t know what to do with myself. You gave me a purpose and a reason to keep going. And more than that you gave me hope. I found a warmth in you I’d not expected, and more than that, a home. No matter what happens today, I’ll be right there with you. Every step of the way. As long as I have breath in my lungs and blood in my body, I will fight for you. I will not lose this again. I cannot.” * insert kiss scene *

[If the warden has low approval]

“Yeah, I’m not really good with big words and all. Darkspawn suck, let’s kick their ass. Maybe see ya after, maybe not.”

If they can be spoken to after the battle during the celebration, do they mention what they’re going to do next?

If his companion quest has been completed he will tell the warden that he plans on going out and finding his clan. He believes that it is time to make peace with Tallan’s death and (if peace between the werewolves and elves was made) his keeper’s betrayal. His people are still his home and he will return to them and continue to fight for them to find a better place in this world. (If neither he nor Zevran were romanced by the warden) Zevran has agreed to accompany him, at least for now and he hopes that Zevran will feel welcomed and content among his people.

If he was romanced by the warden and his companion quest was done, he will tell the warden not to be an idiot and that he’ll follow wherever the warden leads, always.

If his companion quest has not been completed and he is not with Zevran, he will tell you that he does not know yet what he will do next. Perhaps wander around for a bit, travel and see more of the world. There is no place for him to return to, nowhere he belongs now. Perhaps he can find a new purpose somewhere along the way. If he is in a relationship with Zevran, he will tell the warden that he has agreed to accompany Zevran to Antiva to face the crows together with him.

Awakening: Do they return to help at Vigil’s Keep? Or does a letter arrive to the Keep to just check in?

If approval was high enough and he was not romanced a letter will arrive, letting the Warden know that he is alright, telling them a bit about what he is up to now, depending on what ending he got and asking about how the Warden is doing with their new task. Wishing them good luck and promising to visit some time, if he happens to come through the area.

If he was romanced, Theron will reappear as one of the companions.

—

#theron mahariel #here we finally are!#phew #alos #I got to take my first high quality screenshot of him #yay!#I really loved doing this :)

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