#i love HAGS AND SCARY OLD LADIES

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

[adarkrainbow]

Romanian witches: Muma Padurii

(Note: I unfortunately cannot add the accents needed for the writing of those names since my keyboard is not equiped. So know that there are accents missing)

I originally made a post about one Romanian fairytale figure... which turned into a post about two fairytale figures... which became a post about three fairytale figures... So ultimately I decided to split this post into a whole series because it was getting too big. I want to explore with you three characters tied together in Romanian folklore and all present within Romanian fairytales, but each fascinating in their own right. And I want to begin with the first of these ladies... Muma Padurii.

Muma Padurii means "The Forest Mom", or "The Mother of the Forest" (Muma is an archaic form of "mom").

In fairytales, Muma Padurii is an antagonist. She is an embodiment of the wicked witch, or rather of the hag. She is a very old and very ugly woman (so ugly the expression "You look like Muma padurii" is an insult) who lives all alone in a little, dark and scary house in the depths of the woods. She is not a normal woman: she is a witch gifted with various supernatural powers (including shapeshifting), and she is also an ogress who loves to eat children. It is as a children-predator that she usually appears within Romanian fairytales, luring kids to her house to kill and cook them. One of the most famous Muma Padurii fairytales is the Romanian version of "Hansel and Gretel", which mostly differs by A) having the witch named B) the house not being made of candy and C) the genders are reversed (here it is the girl that is to be boiled alive into a soup, while it is the boy that pushes the hag into the oven).

But the thing with Muma Padurii is that, in a similar way to Frau Holle, she is an entity that was "split" between fairytales and legends. There is a Muma Padurii of folktales which is the evil hag I presented above, but there is also a Muma Padurii of beliefs and legends which is quite different and much more neutral.

This Muma Padurii is still an old, ugly, shapeshifting witch - but she is presented as amoral rather than wicked, with a personality mixing a fairy-like mischieviousness and just pure insanity. The name "Muma Padurii" is also very revealing... In the fairytales this name is used in the typical motif of the witch/hag as the "false mother" or "anti-mother", but in the Romanian mythology, this name indicates what Muma Padurii is. She is the Mother of the Forest, as in the spirit of the forest. Her main role, and the reason for her hostility towards humankind, is her function as the guardian of the woods. She still lives in a remote and hidden location - but it is not always a little cabin, it can just be a tree, and it is usually within a virgin-woodland at the heart of the forest, untouched by human hands. She still brews potions - but they are good potions, that she uses to heal injured animals and sick trees. For Muma Padurii always keeps the forest alive. She does attack humans - but only those that destroy the fauna and flora, or that trespass within forbidden areas where only wild things are supposed to be. This was why those that entered the woods were warned to not go too far and to respect what surrounded them: else Muma Padurii would at best scare them away, at worst drive them to insanity with her magic. As such, it was forbidden to pick up certain wild fruits and berries in the forest during certain times of the year - they were for the animals to replenish their strength, and Mama Padurii made sure this rule was followed. In the most extreme cases she would kill the trespassers and devour their corpses like a wild animal - a bogey-version of Muma Padurii that explains her role as a child-eating crone in fairytales...

Muma Padurii is present all across Romania, sometimes in local variations (Padureanca, Muma Huciului), and this explains why there are so many different incarnations of her. Sometimes she is an angry ghost of the woods, a vengeful spirit which can be heard crying among the trees for all the plants that mankind destroyed, and if a house built near the forest isn't carefully locked up at night, she will enter in them at midnight and kill all those inside... Other times she is depicted as a young and beautiful fairy of light, who will be kind and helpful to children but will trick adults into being lost, having their body paralyzed or dying in various ways. This specific idea of the "young faced Muma Padurii" is notably present in another folktale/fairytale, where it is said that the Muma Padurii is a witch that needs to eat human hearts to keep herself young and alive - as such she takes on the appearance of a beautiful woman to lure young men into the woods, but once they are isolated enough she turns into a giant monster and rips their hearts away.

Her link to the forest is highlighted by how she is often said to disguise herself as a tree, to be a part-tree woman, or a hag clothed in moss (she also can appear as a cow, a horse or an ox) ; her function as a "Romanian fairy" is also highlighted by how in various legends she either makes babies sick, or replaces them by changelings (and as such they were several folk-spells and rituals Romanian country-folks used to protect their babies from the Forest-Mom). But mostly Muma Padurii stays an embodiment of the woods in what they have of dangerous and scary. She can be kind and helpful - but only towards the "innocent", animals, plants and (sometimes) children. However she stays an ancient woman of the woods, the mistress of the wild animals, the embodiment of a state of non-civilizations, and as such she is the fright that drives one mad and the savage force that will kill and eat men. And even then, the fauna and flora itself is not always escaping her wrath - some records say that Mama Padurii knows the name of every tree of the forest, but that she can get angry at some and curse them to fall either by the woodsman's axe or by lightning.

The last interesting difference between the fairytale Muma and the legendary Muma is that, while the fairytale Muma is usually a lonely entity, in beliefs Muma Padurii was part of a large family. Sometimes Muma Padurii herself was multiplied into several "Muma" - there was notably a belief about many of them sometimes visiting the cabins of those that lived near the woods, asking to have their hair brushed and cleaned, with a comb and butter (which isn't an easy feat since she had her hair dirty, tangled in snake-like braids and so long it touches the floor). Anyone who agreed to the task and performed it well could receive a wish from the Mother of the Woods - but the rule was that they could only pronounce three words in total as long as she was here, if a fourth was pronounced, she would take your voice and leave you mute. Sometimes Muma Padurii was given a male counterpart of companion called "The Father of the Forests", or the "Woods Papa".

Muma Padurii was also said to have several sons, which were the spirits of the woods and/or of the night (going by names such as Decuseara, Zorila, Murgila, Mamornito or "Midnight"). She is also linked to a set of female forest spirits known as the Fata Padurii (Fata being of course linked to the "fairies", "fées", "fatum" - but here it is to be understood as "The Daughters of the Forest", "The Girls of the Woods, and fittingly they are said to be the daughters of Muma Padurii) ; and to an entity I personaly do not know much about, "Mosul Codruilui" (she is said to be her mother, and "Mosul" means "old woman")

Finally, there was a certain Christianization of the Muma (as some tales started saying her task as a guardian of the forest was given to her by God), and a modern attempt at explaining how she could be such an ambiguous entity, benevolent and malevolent at the same time: most modern storytellers highlight how protective she is of the fauna and flora, and how she was said to wail and cry for the destroyed wood, to explain her "transformation" as her becoming more and more bitter, and angrier and fuller of hate the more humans destroyed her domain, harmed her trees and wounded her "children". A true ecological fable.

Some people point out that Muma Padurii could be a "Romanian equivalent" of the Russian Baba-Yaga which is... not quite exact and not quite true. The two characters seem to derive from a same old "forest mother-goddess" but there are too many differences between Muma Padurii and Baba-Yaga for them to be consideed one and the same. There is however a interesting link between the two, which will be the subject of my next post... about Baba Cloantza.

#romanian folkore #romanian fairytales #romanian witches #romanian mythology #romania #muma padurii #forest goddess #hag #witches of folklore #legendary witches #forest-woman #wild woman #fairytale antagonist #forest mother

[gamerbearmira]

(Khajit 🪙💰💰🪙👛🪙💰💰🪙)

"Ya know I think it's time fer you to shut yer mouth." Maida said coldly to the old woman who was now glaring at her. Mirabel and Camilo had been playing in Mirabels habitat with Maida reluctantly (and yes she will always claim it was reluctant even though she was the one who taught the kids the game) playing with them when this old hag stormed in and started scolding Mirabel for distracting Camilo and Luisa from their work.

What fucking work he was seven and she was nine?!

"This is none of your business." The old lady said and she was straightening up like how some animals puffed up to look bigger and more intimidating.

"It's my business when you start yellin at the kids. Specially since I'm standin right here when ya do it." Maida said coldly as she stared down the old woman unphased. She's fought and killed bigger, uglier and meaner.

"That and it's either me or Paco." Maida said nodding to the window nearby where the Reaper was staring in at them, having been happily watching the kids play.

"You will stay out of-"

"Lady you're not scary and I'm more than ready and able to kick your ass and toss you to the Leviathans." Maida said and she was rewarded by seeing the old woman pale while Maida was now the one standing at her full height and getting in the woman's face.

"Let's get one thing straight old lady. I don't like you. And I was a mercenary for years before I crashed on this planet. And I've survived on this planet for over ten years before Mirabel came along. During that time I've fought beaten and killed almost anything that's tried to fight me on this world. Everything from Stalkers and Sandsharks to the Reaper Leviathans like Paco. So believe me when I say you don't wanna get on my bad side. So how about you turn back round and let the kids play before things get ugly." Maida said coldly and calmly, making the woman pale and Alma took a few seconds to gather herself.

"Let's go children. You have chores." Alma ordered but Mirabel crossed her arms and stood in front of Camilo and Luisa.

"No! We were in the middle of a game! Besides having Lulu move the bridge and donkeys all the time is dumb! You can build a new bridge and fix the donkey pen! And Cami shouldn't be watching babies! We're too little that's why I can't watch them. So no! We're gonna stay here and play!" Mirabel said glaring at her grandmother and she was obviously imitating Maidas stance and glare.

Maida just smirked at the look on the old woman's face, and yes her heart did melt a little at seeing Mirabel mimick her.

Yep she definitely loved that kid and was keeping her.

ME PERSONALLY…I WOULDN’T TAKE THIS LEVEL OF DISRESPECT…

Nah but fr fr, Maida is treating them as actual kids and not tools. Glad she stood up to Alma (literally), cause someone needed to put her in her place. Maida has no time for Alma’s bs, I’m not surprised she’s one of the few that will just. Go off on her 💀💀

#encanto #my asks are open #my asks #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #encanto luisa #encanto camilo #encanto alma #marguerit maida #subnautica subzero #subnautica au #subnautica

[abbyandhanako]

OOC//: I would like to thank @lady-aries-wolfy for giving me permission

——————————-

T.K:

“The Cipher admins, Mira, Cobalt, Archie and that asshole Veda, the hag, useless trash and the dead demon, what do I have to say? They’re a bunch of cunts that try to take Kyurem and are a threat to Neo Team Plasma

Archie is a whiny little bitch who can’t stand the awesomeness of a trojan horse virus, Mira is a bitch who think she’s all high and mighty by killing a grunt and Archie killing two in revenge for Cobalt which I’ll get to later, which set off this whole Neo Plasma-Cipher conflict to begin with.

I send them fuckers a killer USB and tell them it has Kyurem’s data.

I wish I stepped on Archie’s balls just to watch him suffer as much as possible and Veda, He acts like he has some balls but in reality: He’s a cowardly shitty old man who thinks holding a little girl hostage makes him awesome

Cobalt got hurt fucking bad trying to get Kyurem’s data, Oh dear, how sad, nevermind, I thought he’d be scared of Plasma grunts by now….No…no…

No.”

Mark:

“Those admins are scary and I don’t like them, Sage Ghetsis thankfully got me and Hana out of there during a massacre where three grunts were killed…they think I’m the weakest, It doesn’t stop me from holding their Pokémon into place….

Veda is horrible…I’m sure he and his brother were friends when they were younger but that was back then, This is now….

He has no qualms having people killed, held a little girl hostage and is just a horrible person all around….

Archie and Mira are horrible too, those poor grunts, their poor families, I smiled when Frieden made Archie shut up….

I commend my mom’s Ninetales, Yeoubul for helping me stop them….”

Abby:

“How do I put this, Veda is going to be tied to a plank while I rip off his toenails, stab him repeatedly and he’s going to think FUCKING twice about who he takes hostage.

The fact he has the audacity to blame me for taking Hana on board the Frigate is astounding…The asshole refuses to accept the fact he has likely not only pissed off Neo Team Plasma but also pissed off those kids…especially Hugh.

I am going to castrate him, He has quite shown he isn’t deserving of mercy, Oh well, my moniker is Dr. Death…

Archie and Mira are bitches, so there, I had to tend to Plasma Grunts they traumatized and injured, I was lucky to get Hana and Mark out of there….

I fucking smiled when Frieden got him to shut the fuck up

And Cobalt, I don’t give a fuck about him, All I know he’s a fucking asshole who’s willing to kill someone with that Corviknight of his.”

Hana:

“I hate those two, Archie and Veda more than Donna and Cletus and this is saying something…

Veda held me hostage and threatened to kill me if Neo Plasma didn’t stand down, I was lucky to be saved by Pīupīu, Meili’s Frillish, It’s a bit ironic I got saved by a female Frillish when Donna used one to steal my Purrloin, Wesker five years ago and I’m using a Deino, Frieden.

T.K told me he would find it hilarious if I kicked him in his nether regions so I will probably do that the next time and remember that, Abby told me that hurts really badly….

My brother Hugh and Abby want Veda’s head on a stake.

Archie doesn’t know when to shut his mouth and battle, I got sick of his rambling about Cipher’s plans and ordered Frieden to use Outrage and strike Archie in the face, This is why Team Rocket speeches don’t work in real life!

Me hating them more than the grunts who stole my Purrloin, that’s rare….

Cobalt, Abby told me about him that he was a horrible human being and he was why they had Kyurem’s data, I want to protect Kyurem, Mira and Archie killed three Plasma grunts….they had friends and loved ones…and they wiped them out…”

#in character interactions #abby kadozawa {{the nurse of hell's infirmary}} #hanako mishima {{the lost purrloin}} #mark jeong {{the unusual visitor}} #t.k xiong {{the cheek bruise}} #oc responses

[eastwindsteahouse]

Roaring Gales

Word count: 640

Warnings: vague dealing with loss, war description

Authors note: enjoy ch. 2 🫡

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚

“How many people do we have to lose? HOW MANY INNOCENT LIVES HAVE TO BE TAKEN FOR THIS TO JUST END?!” The loss of her brother left a stain in her heart. Feeling bitter and resentful “anywhere is better than here right now” and anywhere she went. A place between time and space where the stars shined bright and clear. Constellations of everyone she loved surrounded her. Zephyrs shined brighter than ever intertwined she couldn’t help but smile.

“Finally a break” she muttered. “I wish... I could just stay here forever…” she curls into a ball her tails wrapping around her. Holding onto one she lets out a quiet sob. She’s held it together long enough she thinks. It’s okay to finally break at least a little bit. It didn’t last long but long enough for her to feel at least an ounce better about the events that happened. So much has happened in four years, way more than the 500 she’s already lived. It was all a lot to take in. To really grasp everything thrown at her. Never did she think that seven sovereign that make up the heavenly principles would just turn a blind eye and let this war happen. After so long… it seemed impossible at least in this realm she had a chance to ask. What exactly is going on?

*Caelus POV*

Using a star as a makeshift mirror for scrying I began the ritual to contact the sovereign. I’ve only ever spoken to three I’ve never been sure of the other four. But at this point I’ll anyone.

“HELLLOOOOO??!! YOU BETTER ANSWER YOU OLD HAGS!!” I know they can hear me. They better hurry up. Our future is on the line and I for one have promise to uphold so I need to live another five years at least.

“OLD HAG?! WHY YOU-“ I’ve never been so relieved to hear that condescending voice in my life.

“She knows just how to push your buttons. Doesn’t she Cordelia?” Followed by a loud low chuckle.

Lady Cordelia and Sir Altair are two of the seven sovereigns. I’m somewhat confused where Lady Evangelina is? I’ll take what I can get right now though. “What is going ON? Why are we at war?” Cutting straight to the point there’s no time to waste. Sir Altair made a noise in contemplation hearing him hesitate to say anything is new and honestly scary. If there’s one thing that man is not is hesitant.

“The other four sovereigns are missing.” He started. I couldn’t help but hold my breath in the sickening realization of what that could mean. “Don’t worry Lady Evangelina is here resting. But the other four we aren’t so sure what has become of them.” At least Evangelina is okay. And the unbalanced power would explain a lot but how could this be? And how could they let this happen? Whatever the case this needs to be over neither side can have any more lives taken.

“We will do what we can to help. This war happened because the seven were negligent.” Lady Cordelia says disapprovingly. In a way it saddens me to hear her so solemn when she’s usually always on her high horse.

“Well, It seems there’s nothing else we can do then” readying my scythe I got ready to leave “there’s no use in crying now. There’s a war and with or without your help I’m determined to end up now knowing the truth. The principles didn’t abandon us but they sure as hell aren’t yourselveshelping. Stop standing there feeling sorry for .”

And with that the star exploded into a million glitters of dust waiting to be reborn again.

“I alone shall stand to protect the dreams of these people and uphold the principles given by the heavens.” Resolve born once again in my heart.

#fox vtuber #vtuber #kitsunevtuber #vtuber lore

[gullbones]

the hag is astride // this night for to ride

relic (2020) • the monstrous feminine by barbara creed • drag me to hell (2009) • hags out of their skins by joe ross • hereditary (2018) • the monstrous feminine by barbara creed • the lords of salem (2012)

#HAGS #i love HAGS AND SCARY OLD LADIES #personal #relic 2020 #the lords of salem #drag me to hell #hereditary #ari aster #rob zombie #lorna raver #meg foster #kathleen chalfant #robyn nevin #sam raimi #horror #ageing #hags #hagsploitation #the monstrous feminine #hags out of their skins #barbara creed #i don’t agree with most of the monstrous feminine book bc it’s very freud/vagina scary focussed #but the concept of the monstrous feminine occupies a huge part of my brain #away from the ‘bagina scary’ cissexism ‘penis bad’ aspects

[hoetachi]

Oops? + Jiraiya

request; May I pls request prompt #17 where Jiraiya takes his son out to train and ends up accidentally injuring him and has to hide it from mom (the reader)? Thank you so much and love all the content!

17 “Beware of my mother. She may be short, but she’s fierce”

IT was supposed to be some simple ninja training— the basics, basically. So why the hell your son had a scratc— nope not even a scratch, but a slash from his cheek all the way to his lip.

Jiraiya genuinely didn’t know the kid wasn’t gonna dodge the kunai strike. He didn’t even noticed the wound until he saw the blood on his face. Panic filled every atom in his body at how you’ll react when the both of them get back home for lunch.

Jiraiya been with many women before he settled down with you. He knew everything about you, and vice versa with you, which wheres the scary part comes in. Many people know you as Jiraiya’s sweet little wife or the old hag that makes a mad bowel of ramen to Naruto, however, that’s what they see on the outside

On the inside, behind closed doors you’re still the same but when you get upset or mad, you’re a whole different person. Jiraiya have fought many enemies, some with strong negative auras but none of those people could compare to the aura that appears he doesn’t something wrong and you find out and since you became the mother of his first born, that aura only intensified by tenfold. You don’t play about your baby boy— there was a time you almost whoop Sasuke for hitting your son a little too hard during hand to hand combat training.

Your son knew of that side of you, but he wasn’t worried. He was more worried about how his father was gonna cover up his wound before you sent Naruto for them.

“Hey old man! why are you so pale and also why are you shaking so much?” Naruto questioned as leaned against the infirmary’s door as he watched the nurse patch your son up

“My wife is going to kill me, that’s why naruto!?” The elderly sannin cried as he tugged relentlessly at his white locs

“I doubt that. Y/n-chan is too nice of a lady to do something like that” He shrugged as Jiraiya continued to pace and pray that the nurse could fix this little problem of his

“Beware of my mother. She may be short, but she’s fierce, Naruto”

#naruto fluff #naruto x poc!reader #jiraiya x poc!reader #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x black!reader #naruto x black!reader #naruto shippuden x reader #x black reader #x black y/n

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Mia Deserved Better: An Analysis of RE8's Themes/Symbolism

Foreword: I would like to thank @lepusrufus for posting about both Mia and Miranda, and at one point directly saying that Mia deserved better, which is a large part of what caused me to start examining her role in the canon story. Now, I will say that this post, like some of my previous explorations of Village (such as my attempt to determine Donna's age), will not be the best organized. My ADHD makes such things rather difficult for me. However, I have tried more than usual, and have broken up this "essay" into several distinct sections. Still, I am worried that my thoughts will not be as concise or coherent as they were inside my head.

Under read-more for length and spoilers for RE8: Village.

Introduction:

Village is, inarguably, about parenthood. Is it a horror game? Yes. Is it also science fiction? Also yes. But is it still, at its core, a story, and therefore contains imagery, symbolism, and themes? Yes. Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with Mia deserving better. My proposal is as follows: While Village is overall about parenthood, it is more about motherhood than fatherhood. Furthermore, Mia's background + actions from the previous game tie her story directly with Mother Miranda's, making their potential interactions massively important to the story... and could have served the theme beautifully. The missed potential in her involvement in the story is honestly a little bit absurd.

Now, let's examine each of the Four Lords + their sections, as the beginning of analyzing the game's theme.

Lady Dimitrescu + Castle:

Ah, perhaps the clearest (albeit unimportant) bits of theme within the whole game. We are immediately presented with another parent, with three daughters she loves very, very much. Initially they work as a team to capture Ethan, easily overpowering him. When they do split up, each still has dialogue regarding their family members. Each of the daughters expresses a desire to be like their mother/make their mother proud. Lady Dimitrescu herself gets very upset every time one of her daughters perishes, and delivers some important dialogue about this in her final confrontation with Ethan.

To paraphrase, Lady D says that Ethan has done something unforgiveable, caused damage that can never heal, and deserves to die before his daughter. That last part is interesting, in the sense that Lady D seems to believe that outlasting your own child is a fate so terrible that she would not wish it upon anyone, including the person who killed her daughters.

Throughout her dialogue and actions, Lady D serves as an important figure of a living mother. What do I mean by that? Well, the only other mothers we see in game are Mia and Miranda. The former doesn't show up until almost the end of the game (seeing as the "Mia" at the start is not actually the real Mia), while the latter does not have a living child, and her behavior has (presumably) changed quite a bit since that loss. As Ethan goes through Castle Dimitrescu, he watches (he causes) Lady D to go through what Miranda did all those decades ago. When we see her loss, when we experience her loss, it is something we connect with, even comparing it (as Lady D does) to Ethan's loss of Rose.

For the more visual side of symbolism, we can turn to Lady Dimitrescu herself. She is very tall, is visibly older than the majority of the Village cast, and has a fairly classic (old-school) motherly look. Everything about her reinforces her position as an example of a mother, especially when she's with her daughters and becomes such a strong figure of protection. Her height allows her to seem the caretaker for her children, even though they are scary/intimidating in their own right.

Donna Beneviento + Waterfall House:

Yes, the baby/fetus/monstrosity is part of this. No, it is not the only bit of thematic work in this section of the game.

To begin, you can find out that Donna is officially the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda. Her birth parents are dead, implied to be from especially tragic causes (more than is the norm when it comes to "orphan making"), and she has suffered greatly from it. We see that she has been seemingly neglected by Miranda, and is incredibly isolated. The tragedy of her loss, along with the consequences presented by it, are something to keep in mind further down the road, when we inevitably deal with Ethan's own death.

One of the consequences of the environment Donna was raised in is, arguably, her reliance on Angie. While interpretations of their exact relationship (aka how much control Donna actually has at any given point) vary, the two very clearly have something akin to a mother/daughter vibe. Alternatively an older sister/younger sister sort of thing. This shows in the way that Donna holds/carries Angie, as well as the contrast in their demeanors. Moreso, the fact that Donna gave a part of herself to create Angie is almost enough to make the symbolism nonnegotiable.

We also see that Donna has a strong understanding of family/family dynamics, through the way that she uses her powers to manipulate Ethan. She dissects his connections to Mia and Rose, taunts him with the lengths he's willing to go to save his child, then shows him a grotesque version of parenthood: The aforementioned fetus monster. Does the monster represent Ethan's fears, or Donna's?

What if the monster is how Donna sees herself, in some way, perhaps thinking that it's her fault her parents died? Bit of a stretch, but it's not a keystone of my theory, so I'm just throwing it out there. We could, however, go a step further and ask ourselves if Donna has noticed the way Miranda neglects her, and the fetus monster is how Donna thinks Miranda sees her. A baby, true, but grotesque, so terribly imperfect compared to her "real daughter" (Eva, obvs).

Regardless, the monster presents an ugly side of parenthood. It shows us the blood, the hunger (with the way it repeatedly attempts to swallow Ethan whole), the wailing. If Lady D shows us the love of parenthood, the bond, Donna in turn shows us the hate, the misery. Everything that one must endure to reap the rewards of family.

Lastly, we get one last bit of symbolism with Donna's death: We play a game with Angie. A childhood classic, hide and seek. Ethan chases her down repeatedly, stabbing away, seemingly only hurting the doll. But what happens when he kills Angie? It turns out that he killed Donna. You kill the child, you kill the parent. A reinforcement of the connection that comes with parenthood, along with another notch in Ethan's family-murdering belt (not saying that he's the "true antagonist" or anything, just keeping track for one of my later points).

Moreau + The Reservoir

Let's get the worst possibility out of the way: Moreau, weakest and sickest of the four lords, lives in a reservoir, where he is relatively safe. To defeat him, you have to drain the water, forcing him onto dry(ish) land. Paired with the main ideas of his section (which I will detail after this nightmare), one could theorize that he's meant to represent birth itself. Again, he's safe in his ("womb") water, and becomes vulnerable when he leaves (like a fragile newborn). Kinda gross, in my opinion, and also not a strong enough connection for me to care much about. It was merely an interesting (albeit horrifying) enough thought that I felt it warranted sharing.

Moving on to the big stuff with Moreau: He's a baby. Evidence: Whiny, has difficulty moving around, struggles to adapt to his growth, throws up a bunch, loves his mother very much, cries for his mother when he's in trouble, etc. Although Mother Miranda does not care for him, he clearly cares for her, and plays yet another role of an abandoned child (like Donna). Without Miranda there to protect him, he perishes terribly, crying out for someone who does not care to answer.

Hearing him cry out for Miranda, over and over, only for her to continue ignoring him is a key piece in the build-up to our confrontation between Ethan and Miranda. The game, in many ways, centers around the comparison between the two. In my humble opinion, Mia should have been involved in this comparison, as opposed to supplying the solution to the result of said comparison. Yes, I know that was a lot of words that don't mean much yet, but trust me, I'm getting there.

Heisenberg + The Factory

Ironically, of the four lords, Heisenberg is the most similar to Mother Miranda. In his massive factory, he is alone except for his numerous experiments, the results of decades of playing God. In comparison to Ethan + Mia, Heisenberg represents artificial parentage, or more accurately, the artificial creation of "life". While the others Lords also performed experiments, they used living subjects. Heisenberg instead chose to use corpses, which he then "brought back to life" with cybernetics + his powers, a somewhat futuristic version of Dr. Frankenstein.

Together, Miranda and him show a rotten side of parenthood (whereas Donna + Moreau showed us the uglier side of the children themselves). To put it simply, they are bad parents. They throw their "children"/experiments into the fray, uncaring, using them as pawns for their own greater gain. The most important part of this is that Heisenberg offers to "help" Ethan: By using Rose as a weapon. In his act of refusal, Ethan demonstrates one of several important distinctions between himself and Mother Miranda. Where she is willing to use her "children" (read: lives that she is responsible for) as tools, he is not.

Miscellaneous Symbolism/Imagery:

The old hag is one of my favorite parts of Village. She's seemingly nuts, has a crazy old lady laugh, wears bones that make soothing bone noises when she moves, and she draws lots of symbols in the dirt. If you look closely (I can provide screenshots if anyone desires, but it will take a bit of work to get them onto my computer), she's drawing one of the most iconic images in the titular village: The winged unborn. This symbol acts as the key you build up after every fight with a Lord, understandably called the Unborn Key (which turns into the Winged Unborn Key). Whether this counts as foreshadowing towards the hag's identity reveal is technically irrelevant, but I like to think it does.

In essence, you build up the key, this depiction of an infant, to progress in the game. The more wings it gains, the closer you are to your goal of rescuing your child.

The cadou itself is very clearly fetus-shaped. Furthermore, the only place within the human body that we know it ever gets implanted is in the "tummy" (thanks Moreau), aka roughly where someone's womb is/would be. Every infected person we see presumably had the Cadou implanted there (though I think it would be interesting if implanting it in different spots caused different mutations. of course, that is a discussion for another day). To become immortal, you have to "bear" a "child". Does it get more direct than that?

Mother Miranda gained her immortality in part for her grief at the loss of her child. She embodied the despair that Lady D spoke of, becoming an eternal source of anguish. Just as the loss of a child is a wound that lasts forever, so too would Miranda last forever (well, until Ethan comes along).

Mia is a loving mother, who puts up with the BSAA making her move across the world, deals with the complications of having a mold husband and mold baby, and has proved herself (see her section in RE7) to be an immense badass. Previously I had forgotten that, and even embarrassed myself in the comments of another person's post by implying she wasn't a tough, ass-kicking machine. Y'all remember feral Mia? People talk about "poor Ethan's arms", but sometimes we forget that Mia was one of the people who did a number on them. Furthermore, she's one of the only living people (from outside the village) to have any connections (pun intended) to Mother Miranda. They worked together, although possibly not directly, on Evelyn. If anyone in Village has a chance of really understanding Miranda's plight, or knowing the truth behind it, it would be Mia. Yet we don't see them interact a single time. Which leads me to the next section...

Conclusion On Theme + Missed Potential:

Okay, okay, so it's pretty obvious at this point that, as previously stated, the game's theme is parenthood. Every section has its symbolism, the story is very obviously about a man trying to rescue his daughter, etc, etc, but what's the point? Is there a lesson, or a more focused interpretation of the central theme? Let's take one last step back, and focus on something I've mentioned a few times now: The comparison between Ethan and Mother Miranda.

Recurring dialogue from Ethan, Alcina, and Mother Miranda all point towards the developers acknowledging that the characters are similar, but there's nowhere near as much conversation about it as I would like. Several times we have the antagonists ask Ethan how he's so willing to kill someone else's child, or prevent them from (essentially) doing what he's doing (aka saving his daughter). While Ethan responds with a mix of "well you started it" and "aghhh fuck-a-you, bitch", there's a much more solid, unspoken difference: Mother Miranda sends her underlings to kill, so that she may revive her daughter. Ethan kills (read: does the work himself) to get his daughter. The difference is much bigger, and more important, at the end of the game, when we realize just how far it goes. Ethan dies to save his daughter. Time and time again Mother Miranda has killed others for her work, but in the end she is stopped when someone willingly dies to stop her.

Where does Mia come in? Mia, the badass mother, the one who once worked alongside Mother Miranda, should have been the nail in the coffin. She is the one who survives, who lives on to raise Rose, she is the silent solution to Ethan's sacrifice. Miranda, you fool, what could you have accomplished if you had held onto your makeshift family? Through Mia (and Chris, to a lesser degree), his "loss" becomes a victory. There's a certain poetic justice that comes with Rose's full family being instrumental in saving her, when Miranda so readily spurned her own family.

Mia could have had an actual conversation with Miranda, their history giving the latter a reason to actually listen. I'm not saying that Miranda would have changed her mind/plans, but the conversation would have been a well-needed contrast to Ethan's "arggg what the fuck is happening, I only have two reactions to things. agg fuck you". Additionally, I feel that Mia (who was captured and had to endure who-knows-what) deserves the opportunity to be the one who points out Miranda's mistakes, who delivers the final "fuck you" to her. More than that, she's the one at the end who can say that hey, maybe she can understand some of what Miranda did. Was there anything her and Ethan wouldn't have done to save Rose? As much as Ethan is a foil to Miranda, Mia could (and should) have played a similar role.

When so much of the story and symbolism revolves around Miranda's experience as a mother, it only would have been fair to shine a light on her equivalent. Her better.

There's more I wanted to say/feel like I didn't properly get across, and I might add more to this at some point, but it's 5:40 AM right now, and I'm starting to feel like my brain is slowing down, so... Feel free to reblog/comment and add your own thoughts!

#mother miranda #mia winters #ethan winters #rosemary winters #resident evil: village #re8 village #god what do I tag this as

[littlesniggy]

The Chosen One

Anon: Hey! I saw you did a request for Blackbeard and I know you don’t really like writing for him but would you do a scenario where he and his crew are on an island and in a bar or whatever and there is this dancer and he just needs to have her? Could you make it nsfw and maybe dark? If not it’s okay too! I love your writing ! 💖

I don't know if I should be worried about you for requesting nsfw Blackbeard or worried about me for actually writing OVER 2000 words! On the one hand I'm happy that someone requested something different but on the other hand...it's Blackbeard 😂 Anyways, I will still keep writing for him cause he is just the perfect character for non-con scenarios though I know that it's not everyone's cup of tea. Hope you still enjoy it.

Warning: 18+, nsfw, non-con, blowjob

Paring: Blackbeard x female reader

Word count: 2.6k (please kill me)

On the way to Hachinosu Blackbeard and his crew made a stop at another island known to be a paradise to pirates and outlaws, being completely abandoned by the navy and world government. Drunk men and women were gathering in the streets, liquor spilling out of their mouths while they tried to stay on their feet. Two women immediately staggered over to him and his crew, knowing full well who he was. They pressed their half-naked bodies against his, trying to get him to spend money on them in the form of booze or maybe even jewelry. But he pushed them away quite forcefully, making his way through the crowd and into a bar that advertised with sexy and luxurious ladies. None of them were either – at least in his memory.

Blackbeard let himself fall down on a chair, yelling to the bartender to better hurry up and get him his booze. Part of his crew joined him; the rest was scattered around the island. “I hope Glitter is here today! Can’t wait for her to dance for me! Wiihahahahaha!” Burgess laughed, grabbing the mug filled with beer and emptying it in one go. “That ugly, old hag? You have a terrible taste in women. Zehahahaha!” his captain retorted, letting his eyes wander through the bar and the dancing ladies.

“Better than that annoying brat you tormented last time, captain! At least Glitter knew what she was doing. Yours was just screaming and begging you to stop! I thought you would break her! Wiihahahahaha!” the rest of his crew joined in in Burgess laughter at the memory of their last stay at this island. Blackbeard chuckled darkly, taking a deep slug of his booze.

“She just couldn’t handle an emperor of the sea.” His crew’s laughter grew louder, other costumers eyeing them from the side but too afraid to actually say something.

“Oi! Bartender! Where are all your pretty ladies?!” Blackbeard yelled, making the bartender flinch where he stood. “This is the first shift. The second one will come in about an hour.” He informed them but Blackbeard was having none of it. “Make them come out now!” he demanded. “And tell Glitter to come out!” Burgess added, already drinking his second mug.

“As I said, the next shift wi-“, but he was interrupted by Blackbeard. Dark shadows started surrounding him, a malicious grin formed on his lips, exposing his missing teeth. “Do you really want to argue with us?” he asked. The whole atmosphere had changed in an instant and the air was thick as ice. The bartender shook his head and hurried to the back, not wanting to cause any more trouble. “At least he knows what’s best for him.” Shiryu chimed in, ordering another mug as well. “Let’s see what they have to offer today.”

It didn’t take long for the women to come out and most of them were the same as last time. Blackbeard was unsatisfied even though he had already suspected as much. And that chick from last time wasn’t here either. How rude!

Sulking, he grabbed Shiryu’s mug he had just ordered and downed in one go, spilling half of it on his beard and chest. “Another one!” he yelled, throwing the empty mug against the wall next to the bartender’s head. The women who had just come out schrieked in surprise and wanted to run to the back again, but Blackbeard stopped them. “Shut up and start dancing, you ugly hags!” he yelled, his mood dropping by the minute.

“Don’t be too harsh with them, captain. It’s not their fault they’re not your type.” Burgess laughed, his eyes already glued to Glitter, one of the blonde dancers. Blackbeard huffed, his eyes skimming the other women once again in the hopes that he might’ve missed one of them.

And apparently, he had! In the furthest back, barely visible, was this one, beautiful young women, starting to sway her hips to the music playing and all of a sudden his anger was blown away. A huge, grin re-appeared in his lips and he leaned back in content, watching her move to the beat. His crew wasn’t stupid; they had noticed their captain’s change in behavior and one look at the dancer in the back gave the answer as to why.

“Seems like captain’s gonna get some fun tonight after all, isn’t that right?” Burgess chuckled in amusement but didn’t say anything beyond that, too occupied with staring at the blonde dancer in the front.

Blackbeard was entranced by her performance; her graceful moves, her soft-looking hair, her glistering lips – oh, how much he wanted to feel them around his dick while he grabbed those perfectly soft locks to guide her to his thrusts. He swallowed hard, his primal instincts taking over the longer he watched her.

It was no surprise he couldn’t wait until the performance was over. He got up from his chair and ambled over, interrupting the other women. “H-hey! What are you doing?” one asked disgusted but she almost immediately shut her mouth when he glared at her over his shoulder. “Did you say anything, tramp?” he asked but the woman backed off already, holding her hands up in defense. “I-it was nothing. I’m sorry.” He apologized and watched him corner the object of his desire against a wall.

“C-can I help you?” she asked, obviously scared shitless. Blackbeard chuckled and held out his hand, showing off the variety of rings on his hand while he did. But she didn’t see it, too occupied with trying to find a way out of this situation. Usually, the bartender and her boss were enough to scare anyone who tried to do anything to them away but he was Blackbeard, Marshall D. Teach, emperor of the seas – he wouldn’t be scared away by two middle-aged men with guns.

“I want you to come with me.” The pirate said and she pressed her body against the cold wall behind her, wishing she could just disappear. But this was impossible. “I-I’m working at the moment. C-could you wait until….until we’re done?” she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to reject him out loud cause an angry Blackbeard was a scary Blackbeard. She didn’t want to agree to go with him either which should be obvious why. So, the best option was to buy some time – if he let her.

Blackbeard’s grin grew wider and he lowered his hand. “Of course. And when you’re done you’re gonna come to me and become my woman, okay?” he asked. Well, it wasn’t a question rather than an order and she knew she couldn’t refuse, couldn’t turn him down. She was trapped. Maye she could try and sneak away somehow but she feared that it would be almost impossible. Meanwhile, the captain of the Blackbeard pirates was walking back to his seat, his crew members laughing at him getting ‘turned down’ again. After a few insults the music started playing again. All the dancers were scared but had to try and look as if nothing happened, giving costumers suggestive glances to get more tips.

Blackbeard’s eyes never left her body and she knew there was no way out. The other women even agreed on dancing more than usual, just for her to maybe find a way out. But when the very last song had ended and tips could be collected from the floor she knew she was screwed (or was about to get screwed).

“Just try and get out the back, Y/n.” one whispered but she had already noticed how one of his crewmembers, the one with the cigar, had left and was probably waiting for her in the back, just in case she chose to make a run for it. So, she did the only thing she could think of – surrender to her fate and slowly walk over to where the feared pirate was sitting.

His crew’s eyes widened when they saw her walking over, everyone expecting her to try and sneak away. “There you are. Haven’t I told you, you bastards? She came!” he yelled excitedly, almost like a little child who got the toy he had wished for for his birthday. She tried to look confident but her trembling body was betraying her.

“Seems like she didn’t come cause she liked you so much, captain! Wiihahahaha!” Burgess laughed. Blackbeard huffed and ignored him, grabbing her wrist instead and pulling her closer until she was pressed against his naked torso. “Do you wanna be my woman?” he asked, his breath reeking of alcohol and she had to crinkle her nose in disgust. “Zehahahaha….I know you want to. Don’t be shy.”

She felt his other hand move over her back and down to her ass, squeezing it in his big palm. She yelped in response, trying to get away from his hand by instinct but pressing her body further against his in the process. “That’s a good girl! Already showing her captain how much she wants him!” Blackbeard raised his hand to the bartender to catch his attention. “Oi! I’m gonna take her with me!” he just announced before he got up, pulling her with him out of the bar much to her dismay. She could faintly hear the bartender try and call him back but she was sure Blackbeard’s crew would stop him from coming after them.

She was brought to his ship of all places; some of his crewmembers who haven’t left the ship were still there and were leering at her with hungry eyes but not daring to make any comments since she was the captain’s. Blackbeard dragged her to his room which was smelling badly. It smelled like alcohol and sweat, mixed with his personal odor.

“Here we are, Y/n.” He announced, closing the door behind him. On the way he was the one mostly talking, asking for her name which she gave him in fear. She looked around the room, intuitively inching closer to the wall next to her. Blackbeard’s eyes were scanning her body, slowly coming closer and cornering her once again against the wall. He looked at her like a hungry dog looking at a piece of fresh meat and she could swear he was almost drooling. She didn’t want to be here. At all. But she couldn’t run away either. He fate had been sealed the moment he had laid his eyes on her.

“Ne, Y/n. Since you’re my woman now why don’t you show me how much you want me?” he suggested. He lifted his hand and gently stroked her cheek, feeling the wet tears that were running down her face. “No need to cry. If you’re good to me I’m gonna be good to you.” A threat no less and she couldn’t help but fall to the floor, burying her face in her hands and sobbing uncontrollably. This was too much for her. Why did he have to choose her? Why did she have to come with him? Why did she have to be his woman?

“Zehahahaha. Don’t cry. You’re gonna have it good with me. I’ll take care of you, Y/n.” she heard him walk away and a soft sound, indicating him sitting down on his huge bed. She didn’t raise her head but when she heard him speak up again she had to. “Come over here, Y/n.” he ordered, his voice sweet as honey but unforgiving like iron.

When she didn’t move, she heard him grumble in annoyance. “Oi, woman! I said come over here!” he repeated himself impatiently. Slowly, she got up and moved closer until she was standing right in front of him. Contently, he grinned again, taking her chin between his fingers, making her look up at him. “Good girl.” His thumb stroked over her jaw, over her lips before pushing between them and into her mouth. She pressed her eyes shut, tasting his salty skin on her tongue.

He moved his finger in and out, watching it in amazement while listening to the queit but wet sounds it was making. His other hand moved down to his pants, opening them and freeing his already erect member. She didn’t dare look down when he started to stroke himself in the same rhythm he was moving his finger, soon adding another one. He pushed them further down her mouth, pressing down on her tongue until her gag reflex kicked in and she made gagging sound, trying to suppress the feeling of throwing up.

“Zehahahaha. This is gonna be fun.” He mused before pushing her to the ground between his legs. She knew what he wanted but she couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth for him. She smelled his dick; at least it wasn’t as bad as she had expected but it was far from the clean smell she had hoped for. He slapped his dick against her cheek and smeared some pre-cum on it before he caressed her lips with his thick mushroom head. “Open up, woman.” He said in a low voice, his eyes glistering in excitement.

Taking her time, she opened her mouth, accepting that he wouldn’t let her get out of this situation either way. At least he wouldn’t have a reason to be mad at her if she obliged – at least she hoped. His dick pushed forward, gliding over her tongue and all the way to the back of her throat, ready to choke her on his dick. She pressed her nails into his thighs, trying to push herself away from his member but his hand was already buried in her lock, pressing her down onto his crotch. “Hngh!” she protested but he didn’t care.

A deep groan left his throat and he threw his head back, eyes closed in pleasure. He didn’t wait for her to adjust to his size and simply started moving her head on his own, pressing her down in him with each thrust, his hot dick filling her mouth out completely. More tears were running down her face and she tried to take a deep breath in every time she got the chance to.

His deep and shameless moans echoed through his room and could probably be heard by his crew outside. But he obviously didn’t care. To her relief, if she wanted to call it that, he didn’t demand of her to show some effort from her side; he was simply mouth fucking her the minute they had started. It wasn’t pleasant whatsoever but at least he did all the work and she just had to let him use her mouth.

“Fuck…what a good girl you are…your throat his so tight…! Fuck!” he praised, his hand grabbing tighter at her hair, pulling it almost violently as he moved her head on his dick. Her nails kept digging into his thighs as some sort of ‘punishment’ for him though she doubted he even noticed. She felt his dick pulse inside her mouth and she was thankful he wouldn’t last much longer.

With a few more thrusts he came deep inside her mouth, his sperm running down her throat, giving her a hard time not to take in a deep breath that was much needed. She didn’t taste a lot of his cum but what she tasted wasn’t nice at all. He was definitely drinking too much and his diet was unhealthy as well.

With an audible ‘plop’ he pulled his dick out of her mouth, saliva dripping down onto her thighs. He was panting in exhaustion, his hand still buried in her hair, making her look up at him again. “That was good, don’t you think, Y/n?” he asked, expecting her to agree. She nodded hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t want anything else from her. “Later, we’re gonna go for round two so I can see how good your pussy can take me.”

#one piece #op #op imagine #blackbeard #op blackbeard #marshall d teach #Blackbeard x reader #ns.fw #please don't kill me #I'm really sorry #he's such a bad character #can't help but not like him #op x reader #x reader #female reader

[trilliastra]

[much fluff with a dash of angst, but mostly jin ling coping with being a sect leader and his uncles being there for him. jin ling & jiang cheng & wei wuxian.]

-

Jin Ling has been a Sect Leader for exactly four months and eighteen days when the letter arrives.

Sect Leader Yao wishes to invite you and…

Jin Ling rolls his eyes. It’s always an invitation for dinner or a ‘sumptuous trip to try our most beloved meals’ and it always ends with Jin Ling visiting their crops and listening to hours upon hours of a speech about the advantages of having Sect Leader Yao as ally and biggest business partner.

Jin Ling always leaves with a headache and the certainty that not even the finest crops in the world are worth enduring that old hag’s voice for days.

He’s wondering if he could get away with ‘accidentally’ dropping the letter in the fire when the word ‘marriage’ catches his attention.

Dread spreads through his body. His uncle has warned him about this, lectured Jin Ling about taking his time, being careful around pretty ladies, but he thought he had more time! He’s still sixteen, why would he want to marry anyone right now?

He keeps reading, curiosity getting the best of him, and then he realizes, Sect Leader Yao is proposing an alliance through marriage, but not with Jin Ling.

With his uncle.

-

Jin Ling does not mention the letter to his uncle. He does not think that would end well for him or Sect Leader Yao, and though Jin Ling would not mind if the old man was accidentally pushed into a pit so deep he could never escape – it would save him so much time and tears of frustration – he does not want his uncle to start a war. One murderous uncle is enough, thank you.

So Jin Ling does the next best thing and throws the letter into the fire, pretends it never happened and leaves Sect Leader Yao to deal with it alone.

That’s not the end of it, though. Of course not. Jin Ling could not be that lucky.

The second letter comes the next week, and by the time the twelfth letter arrives, Jin Ling is just about ready to start a war himself, so when Wei Wuxian shows up unannounced, he cannot be blamed for throwing a whole jar of wine on his head.

Wei Wuxian’s entire bright demeanour is particularly annoying when Jin Ling has been experiencing a headache for the past – what, month?

“You look stressed.” Wei Wuxian points out, wiping the wine off his face with the sleeve of his robe (‘such a waste’, he had said, but instead of leaving as Jin Ling had hoped, he simply collapsed on a chair and grinned, ugh).

“The letter just won’t stop!” He grits out, angry, throwing the closest letter – from Ouyang Zizhen’s father of all people, apparently, he has two daughters that would be just ‘perfect’ for Jin Ling’s uncle – towards Wei Wuxian.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian laughs hysterically for a good minute while Jin Ling stares, unamused, “I did not think Jiang Cheng would be this disputed.”

Jin Ling tries not to take offense on that, but the words come out of his mouth before he can hold them back, years of having to defend his uncle from other disciples getting the best of him. “He would be a great husband!” Jin Ling argues. “If he wants to!”

Wei Wuxian raises his hands, placating, but he still has that knowing smirk on his face. “I know.” He says, softer this time. “He always liked to pretend to be cold and angry, but we knew-” Jin Ling feels a shiver run down his spine at the mention of his mother so casually. His uncle talked about her, told him stories about his parents, but he never looked at ease while doing it, his eyes always trying to hide the pain, “Jiang Cheng is especially warm inside, he takes criticism to heart and he hurts just as easily, just as deeply. Maybe even more than the rest of us.” Wei Wuxian gets a distracted look on his face, lost in thoughts and memories that Jin Ling knows he will never understand, does not know if he even wants to.

The pain and the heartbreak that molded his uncle while he was growing up, Jin Ling has long understood that it came from years of self-doubt and self-loathing.

‘I am proud of you, it does not matter what happens, who you are, what you do, I am proud of you’, Jin Ling heard those words more than once as he grew up, his uncle wiping his tears of frustration and anger when he failed at hitting the targets with his arrows, lost a fight with one of the older disciples. He did not think much of it at the time, but after the temple, after hearing the pain in his uncle’s voice while arguing with Wei Wuxian, the pain of being left alone – Jin Ling understood that those were words his uncle wishes someone had told him.

“I know.” Jin Ling says, softly, before looking down at the pile of letters still on his desk. He lets out another groan of frustration. “But why me?” He cries out while Wei Wuxian starts giggling again. “They should send these to him!”

“Oh, my dear A-Ling.” Wei Wuxian says, taking deep breaths to control his laughter. “They want your help.”

-

“No, no.” Jin Ling groans, pacing around the room. Wei Wuxian watches him patiently, drinking from a new jar of wine one of Jin Ling’s servants brought. “I will not be Jiujiu’s matchmaker! I have other things to do! Did you know there are rumours of a ghost terrorizing a village? At least twenty families have arrived to Lanling yesterday, I do not have time to help Sect Leader Yao se – seduce Jiujiu!”

Wei Wuxian – proving to be just as useless as Jin Ling had thought – snorts and reaches out for another jar of wine. “You are pathetic.” Jin Ling points out, rolling his eyes when Wei Wuxian merely shrugs.

“You are the Sect Leader.”

“I know!” Jin Ling cries out, throwing his arms up in frustration. To his horror, he feels himself starting to tear up.

He hates crying, even more in front of others. He knows he does it a lot, he’s always been a crier, but he is, as Wei Wuxian pointed out, a Sect Leader now. He cannot just burst into tears every time he feels tired or sad or—overwhelmed.

“Jin Ling—” Wei Wuxian starts, softly, but a knock on the door stops him.

“Sect Leader,” his secretary calls, sounding panicked, and though Jin Ling wants to tell him to leave, he takes a deep breath and orders him in, “you have a visitor.” He announces.

“Who-” Jin Ling tries to ask, but the door flies open before he can finish and soon enough his uncle is stalking into his office.

If it weren’t for the secretary still watching them, Jin Ling would have dropped everything and ran into his uncle’s arms, crying as if he were five years old again.

-

“You do not have time to write,” his uncle accuses as soon as the door closes behind Jin Ling’s secretary, “but you have time to chat with him.” The tone is not as cold as it used to be and Wei Wuxian offers him a wave and a teasing grin instead of flinching like he also used to do.

“I did not invite him,” Jin Ling turns around, scrambling to wipe his tears. It has been a rough couple of days, emotion got the best of him, “he just showed up and now he refuses to leave.”

“Not fair!” Wei Wuxian cries out, pretends to be wiping a tear while his eyes shine with mischief. Jin Ling’s uncle rolls his eyes, expression so soft Jin Ling feels himself tearing up again.

His uncle deserves so much more than an arranged marriage.

“A-Ling.” Jin Ling looks up, finds both his uncle and Wei Wuxian looking at him with concern. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shouts, starts rearranging the papers on his desk as to have something to do with his hands, something to distract him from all these emotions, the tiredness, the overwhelming happiness of having his family with him after all this time where he forced himself to be strong, to deal with everything alone, to—

“A-Ling.” Jin Ling feels a hand on his shoulder, strong and careful and loving.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling sniffs, suddenly so exhausted he feels his legs giving out. He is quickly supported by his uncle and Wei Wuxian, “I do not want you to get married to Ouyang Zizhen’s sister.”

“What?” he asks, helping Jin Ling to the chair and kneeling in front of him. He runs a hand through Jin Ling’s hair, touches his cheek softly. “What are you talking about?”

“You should marry for love.” He whispers, weakly, and then – nothing.

-

When Jin Ling was a child, he used to have nightmares about losing two faceless people, a woman he would call mother and a man he would call father. He’d wake up, shaking, heart beating fast, and immediately run to his uncle’s room.

He would also have dreams where his uncle died, but those never seemed so scary because once Jin Ling woke up, he knew it would never happen. His uncle would never leave him.

That certainty never wavered, not once, even when Jin Ling was in Lanling, even when his uncle got hurt fighting Su She, his uncle would never leave him.

But as soon as Jin Guangyao died, as soon as Jin Ling was pronounced Sect Leader, as soon as his uncle left to Lotus Pier, Jin Ling realized it was time he let his uncle go.

-

The faceless woman in his dream is different this time. She’s holding one end of a rope while the other end is tied around Jin Ling’s neck and when he tries to run, she holds him back, the knot so tight Jin Ling feels himself suffocating, unable to scream, to call for help.

From afar he sees his uncle burning, fire surrounding him as he shouts, one hand stretched out in front of him, reaching out for Jin Ling while the woman drags him away from his uncle, farther and farther. And while his uncle burns, Jin Ling chokes.

-

He startles awake, gasping for air as his hands search for the rope around his neck, a rope that isn’t there anymore.

“A-Ling.” His uncle calls. When Jin Ling looks at his worried face, he collapses against his chest, relieved. “Breathe,” he whispers, pulling Jin Ling closer to him, one hand on the back of his neck, comforting, “I am here.”

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling sobs, holding his uncle’s robes tightly. He should not be acting like this anymore, he should not behave as a child, he is not – he is a Sect Leader now, he needs to be strong. Ashamed, he sobs harder, hides his face in his uncle’s chest, “I am sorry, I should not –”

“Stop.” His uncle orders. “I should be the one apologizing. You were not ready for –”

“You were a year older than me when you became a Sect Leader!” Jin Ling protests. All the things his uncle did when he was younger, the war, the people he lost.

“I was not ready either.” His uncles confesses. Jin Ling pulls back, surprised. “I had no other choice, A-Ling, but you – you have me and your friends and – Wei Wuxian, I suppose,” he adds, rolling his eyes, and Jin Ling, despite himself, smiles.

He notices Wei Wuxian by the door, arms crossed in front of himself, eyes shining with tears, Jin Ling imagines, of regret for years lost, bonds broken.

“I will try to visit more often.” Jin Ling’s uncle promises. “And if you do not write back,” he threatens, “I will drag you back to Lotus Pier and feed you to the water spirits.”

Jin Ling blinks. “I am a Sect Leader.”

“I don’t care. Learn when to ask for help, brat, and answer to your uncle’s letters.”

“My, my, A-Ling,” Wei Wuxian says for the first time, eyes still wet, smile brighter than before, “it seems your uncle was lonely.”

“Wei Wuxian.” Jin Ling’s uncle growls, reaching out for a pillow and throwing at Wei Wuxian’s beaming face. The other man ducks away easily, cackling.

This is how his uncle’s life must have been before. He was not ready to become a Sect Leader then, but most of all, he was not ready to lose his entire family.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling takes his hand, “do you wish to get married?”

His uncle furrows his brows, confused. “This again?” He glances at Wei Wuxian, then back at Jin Ling. He sighs. “Maybe one day.” He says. “But that is not important right now.”

“It is important!” Jin Ling argues. “I want you to be happy!”

“Marrying one of the Ouyang girls won’t make him happy.” Wei Wuxian says, pulling a chair to sit on the other side of Jin Ling’s bed.

“You are married to Hanguang-jun!” Jin Ling points out.

“Because I love him.” He answers and Jin Ling is relieved he doesn’t go on a rant about Hanguang-jun’s eyes or something, it has happened before. It was disgusting. “Jiang Cheng should marry someone for love.”

They both turn to look at his uncle and Jin Ling’s eyes widen when he sees him blush. Does that mean–

“Enough with this.” Jin Ling’s uncle says, forcing him to lie back, fluffing the pillows around him. “I will deal with the letters.”

Jin Ling sighs, relived, as his eyes start to drop shut. “Do not start a war.” Both his uncles snort.

“I promise.” He whispers and Jin Ling falls asleep surrounded by his family.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng & jin ling #jiang cheng & jin ling & wei wuxian #mdzs #my fic #did you catch the hint jiang cheng might already have someone he loves? #bc that might become a fic soon #wink wink

[lavaffair]

Just Admit It

Inukag Fluff Week Prompts: Touch and Pining

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33211216

Having a crush on someone can be wonderful, but also incredibly unfair. The hours spent daydreaming about the person who gives your stomach butterflies seem to be more fun than having the actual crush. Experiencing this vulnerable feeling because of a person is actually quite terrifying and painful. Most of the time, crushes lead to heartbreak and letting go of the person who never gave you a chance.

Being in love with a person can be extremely intense, almost obsessive, and beautiful if done right. When someone’s feelings reach this level, it begins to cut deeper beyond the surface, into dangerous and uncharted territory. Especially if the person you are in love with has absolutely no idea of your true feelings towards them.

For Kagome Higurashi, her feelings towards her best friend Inuyasha Taisho went way beyond a crush. She was in love with her best friend, so in love that it hurt her, and she was too afraid to ever tell him about them.

The risk of ruining her lifelong friendship of 16 years was too scary to think about. Kagome could never think of her life without Inuyasha, he was always there to annoy her, get her angry, protect her, and support her whenever and wherever. When he yelled at the bigger kids for making fun of her name when they were five, or afterward when she pushed someone away from him when they pulled on his ears, they made a pack to back each other up. The friendship just blossomed after that.

Of course, they made more friends along the way, which included Sango and Miroku; whom they met in middle school, but their friendship never changed. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they have had the uncomfortable and awkward conversations that come up between teenagers, and so they have seen it all.

They have been there for each other when their hearts have been broken, when they had fights with others, and when they have personal issues. The bond between them was so strong that even the idea of it breaking caused Kagome a ton of stress. She could not do it and would not do it. At the end of the day, they will be in each other’s friend zone and they will die in the friend zone.

She was convinced that Inuyasha had zero feelings for her. He has seen her at her worst, and probably only looks at her like a sister. There was no way he could feel anything more for her.

This is why seeing him flustered and awkward about having to share a bed together did not raise any suspicions. It was obvious he was just a bit uncomfortable with the situation since it has been years since they have shared a bed with each other. They are both in their early twenties now, and sharing a bed was very intimate at this age compared to at 13.

“Yash, I could go downstairs right now and ask for another room. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.” Kagome grinned at him, trying her best to suppress her shyness.

“Tch. We tried that already! That old hag wasn’t budgin’. This is the last time we let Miroku make hotel reservations.” He anxiously paced around the room.

“I can’t believe they don’t have any rooms with two beds. It’s not like it’s a special weekend or anything, it’s not even that busy this time of year.” She could not help but bite her bottom lip while watching him pace the room. His anxiety was getting to her.

“Well. We’re stuck here now, I tried all of my tricks but that lady wouldn't budge. We just gotta figure this out.”

He disappeared into the closet and pulled out an extra blanket provided by the hotel and placed it on the ground beside the huge bed. It was soft and fluffy enough to provide some comfort, but Kagome knew his back was going to hurt tomorrow and beyond that. They are staying at this hotel for the next few days, and until they can find a new room, they will have to make due.

“Inuyasha, we can just share the bed.” She tried speaking logic into him.

Inuyasha hoped she missed the way his body jolted at her offer because it was an intense one. Share a bed? With his best friend, whom he also harbored feelings for? Not a chance. Not when it was hard for him to even look at her without thinking about all the ways he could hold her.

He was down bad, he just refused to make it obvious. Instead, he played off his feelings for her by being extra rude sometimes. It helped mask his feelings and it was believable because he was naturally a huge jerk. Of course, he has gotten softer because of Kagome, but he turns it on when he needs it. Right now, he was too flustered to even pretend to act like a cocky bastard.

He and Kagome have not shared a bed since they were pre-teens, and that was before puberty kicked in. It took him a while to notice it at first, but when Inuyasha realized he had developed feelings for his best friend, he knew he had to shut it down immediately. He saw the changes she went through, and how she went from this annoying, loud, bossy little girl into this independent and beautiful woman. It was too much for him, and it happened overnight. He sucks at handling his feelings, he is not the best with women, and thus concludes him knowing he is not good for her.

Kagome deserved better, she deserved more than him. Some guy who can talk about his feelings and does not want to punch almost every frustrating person in the face. He was in love with her, so in love, he would sacrifice his chance of happiness just to see her happy with someone else. He will support her from the sidelines, like any good best friend, while his heart tears away at the idea of a love that did not get a chance.

Her friendship was enough for him. That is what he told himself every day.

“No.” He replied flatly. “You probably still kick in your sleep.”

“I do not kick!” He heard her shout.

He laughed, “Tell that to my legs. I think they’re still bruised.”

Of course, he did not miss the way she scoffed as she got the bed ready to sleep in. He could hear her breathing from across the room, her sweet, natural scent filling the space every time she moved around and it was intoxicating.

“Don’t be such a big baby!” She padded the pillows for extra fluff. “You’re a demon, my kicks don’t even hurt you.”

He poked his head out from the closet, looking for anything extra to put on his makeshift bed other than bath towels. “Half demon,” he corrected. “And yes they do.”

She blew out some air from her lungs and padded over towards him, her little feet tip-tapping on the carpet floor. “Inuyashaaaa,” she whined. “If I promise to not kick you, will you please sleep on the bed?”

He swallowed hard, his nerves getting the best of him as he cleared his throat. It took him a second to compose himself before exploding, and then he put on his best face. He raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk playing on his lips with a little fang poking out.

“So you admit that you do kick now. huh?”

Kagome rolled her eyes, immediately walking away from him with her arms crossed against her chest. “You’re impossible!”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he heard her zip and unzip her luggage and heave a sigh. “I’m going to change really quickly. I’ll be right back.”

He grunted in return and quickly changed into some sweats and a loose-fit tee shirt. His makeshift bed was as good as it was going to get, the fluffy comforter folded on the ground providing some back support. There were no more extra blankets, but Kagome always brought an extra for traveling, so he would just use hers to sleep in.

Little sounds were coming out from the bathroom and he knew she was doing her nightly routine of skincare and hair brushing. Out of all the women he has ever met, Kagome was the one always on top of her routines. He knew she had one in the morning and one at night, and the only reason why she was not taking her nightly shower was because of how tired she was after a long travel day.

The sound of clothes coming off and then rustling back on her skin was extremely distracting, so he decided to focus on the interesting floor lamp in the corner of the room. It had a rustic-colored body, with a cream-colored lampshade over the light bulb, and it was as boring as any other floor lamp in existence.

The door to the bathroom clicked open, and the sweet scent that was Kagome hit his nose instantly. It was never enough for him and he was so selfish he always wished for more. The citrusy scent mixed with vanilla was expected after she stayed in the bathroom for so long, but he did not expect his heart to skip a beat when he laid eyes on her in her pajamas. To anyone else, it would just be plain sleepwear, but seeing her in a pink tee-shirt and shorts set was driving him insane. There were little white stars decorating the entire ensemble, and Inuyasha could not believe Kagome could get any cuter.

“Nice PJs, what are you, five?” He teased, if only she knew he was dying inside.

She glared at him in return, “At least my pajamas are more fun. You’re in the same thing you always wear.”

“Kagome, you never see me when I’m going to bed.” He was trying really hard to stop himself from stuttering.

“You’re right, but I see you in the mornings when you’re a grump. You don’t change out of them unless you have somewhere to go.”

“I didn’t come here to get chastised for my taste in sweatpants, Kags.”

She giggled and it sent a jolt of electricity into his system. “That may be true, but when we get back home I’m buying you new pajamas. I’ll get some cute ones for you.”

The half-demon narrowed his amber eyes at her, “You’re gonna get matching onesies ain't ya?”

Shrugging her shoulders and shooting him a cheeky little smile, she skipped to her giant bed and left his question unanswered. Choosing to turn off the lights instead, and leaving the duo in the dark.

Cheeky wench he thought.

There was nothing else for either of them to do but get comfortable in bed to sleep. Everyone in the group had had a long day, and he was sure Sango and Miroku were already asleep in the room across from theirs. He was thankful the universe spared him from having to listen to anything that was not snoring.

“What time do you think we’ll all be up by tomorrow?” He heard Kagome ask from above him.

As he made himself comfortable on the floor with the fluffy pillow Kagome had given him he answered, “Hopefully not at noon. I’ll push you off the bed and bang on their door until yer all awake.”

She laughed, “You’ll get us kicked out if you do that.”

“Yeah?” Well, maybe we can find a hotel that has rooms with two beds.” He grumbled.

“Sharing a bed is not a big deal!” Kagome lied, because to her it would definitely be a big deal.

To the blushing half-demon sleeping on the ground, it was also a very big deal. “Goodnight Kagome.”

Kagome pouted, thankful that he could not see the disappointment on her face. “Fine, don’t be extra grumpy when your back hurts tomorrow.”

They flipped on their sides facing away from each other and attempted to sleep. Kagome was doing well, the giant bed was super comfortable and it would bring her to sleep in no time. Except, she could listen to Inuyasha shuffling over on the floor knowing he was trying to find a comfortable position.

A frustrated grunt had her fluttering her eyes open and groggy from sleep. She wondered how long she had been out, and she would ask Inuyasha but he was still tossing and turning on the floor. She rubbed her eyes and let out a tiny yawn before scooting over to the side to look at him.

At the moment, he was fighting with Kagome’s blanket and was one minute closer to taking the car keys and sleeping inside the car.

“Inuyasha?” he heard her ask. Her voice was soft and sounded small, she looked tired and in much need of sleep.

“Kags? Hey, sorry for waking you.” He said apologetically.

She shook her head with a little smile to show him she felt no animosity towards him. “Yash, you’re uncomfortable. Please come to bed.”

“You say that like it’s easy..” he muttered over his beating heart. She was so tired, and yet here she was still concerned over him and putting his needs before her own.

“It’s not easy.” She replied sleepily.

“What?” He sat up from his floor bed and looked at her. Her eyes were glossed over, and a little smile was painted on her face. “Kags, what do you mean?”

She shrugged awkwardly in her laying down position and yawned again. “I like you, so, it’s not easy for me to tell you that.. but you can’t sleep on the floor.”

Inuyasha’s face heated up instantly, a blush so red and deep that he could make tomatoes jealous of its color. There was no way she was telling him the truth. There was absolutely no way she was reciprocating his feelings right now, because this all seems too good to be true, and nothing this amazing ever happens to him. He was already lucky enough to call her his best friend, but for her to like him back when he had never told her was more than he could have asked for.

Her words processed rather quickly, and Kagome shot up from the bed. suddenly wide awake. There was absolutely no way she just said that to him. Every second that passed caused her to overthink everything, and she felt like her friendship with him was slipping out of her fingers the more time passed.

“I- I mean! Um.. no? Uh. I didn’t say that! Forget what I said!” She laughed nervously, “Haha funny joke!”

Her stuttering was going through one fluffy ear and out of the other because he was still trying to process what she said. He could see her better than she could see him, and her blushing face did not match the denial she was spewing at him.

“Would you laugh too if I told you I felt the same way?” His voice wavered during his confession while his stomach made flips.

“You…” Kagome paused and took a deep breath in a failed attempt to get herself to relax. “You like me too?”

“Yep.”

“..For how long?”

“Since I turned 13 and saw you in that one blue dress at the school dance.” There was no going back for him now.

She remembered that day pretty easily because it was one of her most cherished memories. It was the middle school dance, and everyone was super excited to find someone to go with. Naturally Kagome went with Inuyasha since they were so inseparable, and she wanted to surprise him and go in her new blue dress. That whole night Inuyasha was acting weirder than usual, but she thought it was because of the school dance, not because of her or her blue dress.

“What about you?” His question dragged her out of her thoughts.

“Around the same time as you, except it was after the dance. Yura cut off some of my hair because she was kinda obsessed with it, and mama had to even it out afterward. It was so short, and I hated it! But you came up to me when I was crying and told me I was pretty with my short hair, and then you yelled at Yura the next day.

“That’s when I sort of figured I liked you more than just as my best friend.” She admitted.

The two best friends stared at each other in bewilderment due to their confessions. The words they shared are still floating above them like small clouds. The fear of their feelings staying one-sided was nothing but a fluke now, because their feelings were reciprocated.

“Do you um..” Kagome coughed, “Wanna get off the floor and talk about it some more?” She padded the mattress for emphasis.

He was sure he looked like an idiot with how fast he got up from the carpet. Maybe she did not see it that way, but he sure did feel that way. He felt like he was floating even with his body now firmly on the large bed. He left a small space between them, on the off chance that he was reading into it too much.

It was quiet between them and sleep was still creeping onto them like a predator watching its prey.

“You know I expected my confession to you to be kinda dramatic.” Kagome laughed, “Like, we have a huge fight and we’re yelling at each other from across the room and then you say something stupid and I just kinda scream it out.”

The half-demon raised a brow at her in amusement. “You watch way too many movies, Kagome.”

She pushed on his shoulder in mock offense, “Don’t pretend like you don’t sit there and watch them with me!”

“That’s because you force me to watch them with you. How many times have we seen the Notebook? I lost count!”

“Okay, okay, first of all, we haven’t seen the Notebook since high school. I’ll admit we saw it too often, but not recently!”

“Yeah?” He grinned at her, his fang poking out only adding to the effect he has on her. “Doesn’t mean we haven’t seen similar movies.”

She huffed, “I’m a sucker for romance. You can’t blame me for that.”

Inuyasha watched as her lips turned out into a little pout and she puffed out her chest. Those same lips he has always caught himself staring too hard at, the ones he thought about kissing everyday but knew he never could. Well, here was his chance; and she was sitting right in front of him.

Before he could back out of it, he leaned in closer to her face and stared directly into her dark brown eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and the little gasp she let out echoed his ears. Her breath fawned over his lips as she realized how close they were to touching. Her eyes flicked from his golden ones to his lips, and then back to his eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked her breathlessly. He was totally enthralled by her and her full, parted lips.

She nodded in anticipation knowing that her voice would fail her if she tried to speak.

His lips were on hers instantly as he drank her in like water. They were as soft and plush as he expected them to be but they were also even more than that. Their lips molded against each other so easily it was strange to think about why he waited so long to do this in the first place. The kiss they shared was sweet and cautious but still electrifying. He did not want to scare her away in case she backed out of it, but little did he know she was savoring this moment between them.

Slowly, they parted ways as they tried to catch their breath. Inuyasha noted how cute she looked with pink-tinted cheeks, kiss swollen lips, and sparkling eyes as she looked at him. He could not stop the grin from showing up on his face after finally being able to kiss the girl of his dreams, the same girl that was a bit too far from him at the moment.

“Come ‘ere.” He slurred, his voice deep and rich with admiration. He extended his arms to her and beckoned her towards him with a blush still on his cheeks.

Without saying a word she crawled over to him and broke the remaining space they had between them. She fit into his lap so perfectly and she never wanted to live a life where she could not do this again. The butterflies in her stomach were eating her alive but she powered through the feeling and laid her head on his shoulder. His strong arms embraced her small figure and pressed her into him while he fought the nerves in his body to relax. This was still extremely new to the both of them, but suddenly they wanted to be as close to each other as possible.

They sat together like this for a few minutes until Inuyasha noticed that Kagome was starting to drift away into sleep again. Even the excitement of a love confession was not strong enough against the pull of sleep.

“Kags,” he whispered. “Let’s lay down. You need to sleep more comfortably.”

She protested, “But I’m comfy here.”

Before she could say anything more he quickly changed their position and laid down on the bed. With one arm still holding Kagome snuggly on him, he used the other to bring up the giant comforter to cover the both of them. He was glad they both decided to leave the lights off during the entire ordeal they had earlier so he did not have to get up and ruin her comfortable position.

Kagome was thankful for the lights staying off too because she was not going to let Inuyasha go even for a second. Miroku and Sango might be extremely confused tomorrow morning when they notice the change in dynamic but that will be tackled when they get to it. Right now, she is way more content with her head on his chest and his hand on her back.

Before she officially dozed off into slumber, she kissed his chin and snuggled into him. With her head on his chest, she could hear the erratic beating of his heart after her surprise kiss. He said nothing as he listened to her breathing steadily with every minute that passed until her grip on his arm went slack.

Inuyasha had not expected so much to happen between them in a span of a few hours. Their dynamic now changed forever. He was aware that they still had more to talk about, but for now, he was going to cherish this moment with her. He kissed her forehead one more time out of pure need and desire before settling in to catch some sleep.

He would never deny sharing the bed with her ever again.

#inukagfluffweek2021 #inukag #inukag fan fiction #inukag fic #ao3 #inuyasha #inuyasha x kagome

[herwonderland7]

CHAPTER 1 ― THE LAKE AND NEO CLAN’S SITUATION

“I hope you are right, Yoonoh.. Because if this doesn’t work, I’m afraid.. I’m afraid the worst might happen, and you know what I mean.”

SUMMARY― With the age of 24 in the current time, Aera had been asked for her hand in marriage by potential suitors, not knowing an unexpected event would come her way.

CHARACTERS ― Gae Aera/Princess Riana Aera, Saera, Daeki (Jung Family’s Butler), Prince Jung Jaehyun / Yoonoh (Neo Clan), Kim Doyoung (Neo Clan)

WARNINGS/AUTHOR’S NOTE ― mention of death!!, introducing 2/21 members of Neo Clan! Sungchan and Shotaro are not in this au bcs i’m still getting to know them as a fan uwu 

GENRE ― fantasy, got7!as!princes, got7!as!werewolves, nct!as!princes, nct!as!vampires, nct!as!wolves!

PRESENT TIME

It was strange, it’s been a year.

She had never had strange dreams before but this time, coincidentally, she dreamt of basically chasing after a man with a child, who was chased by scary looking shadows, the day before she was meeting her last, potential suitor.

She was chasing them, on a horse while shooting out arrows.

It’s like a dream where she had dreamt before a year ago.

It was strange and scary.

“Gae Aera! Are you listening to me?” 

Aera’s eyes blinked multiple times, before turning towards the high pitch voice - seeing her mother looking at her in disbelief, right opposite her.

There was a sigh coming from her mother as Aera’s eyes avoided her eye contact.

“There you are, day-dreaming again! Does day-dreaming ever get you a fiance of your own!?”

“I wish.” muttered Aera under her breath before completely turning her focus towards the carriage window.

It’s been a year, and she is 24 - an age where women would be sent out to find suitors, which Aera didn’t like the idea of being married at such a young age.

Aera believes 24 is a young age.

“You should be ashamed of yourself! Look at Mrs Woods daughter! She is married to a nice, handsome young man with a big house and—

Aera scoffed, cutting off her mother’s words directly before turning her head towards her.

GAE AERA

“So, is this what it is? You’re sending me off just because of Mrs Woods? That old woman?” I replied, looking a little confused at the same time pissed.

It was as if my mother was competing with that old lady.

“I’m not sending you off, Aera. I just want you.. to be happy.. to live a happy life with your husband. That’s all I want from you.” She said while cupping onto both of my hands.

My eyes travelled towards hers, seeing tears welling on her eyes. She looked as desperate as ever. 

Did that old hag make fun of her or something?

Gulping down the lump of my throat, I sighed softly.

“But what if.. after I marry this potential suitor… I would become miserable, mother? That is my biggest worry. Honestly, I would rather people call me a single old lady rather than someone who is masking a happy life with a man.” I asked, slightly worried and kind of anxious.

What if the man is horrible?

What if the man had bad intentions after we are married?

I can’t turn back after the official kiss.

I can turn back now.

“No, my love. This man, I have known his mother for a long time. She is… exactly like me…. You really need to meet his son, you’ll probably regret your words just now.” My mother smiled softly, before caressing the sides of my hair.

It looks like I can’t turn back now.

Aera got out of the carriage, her head looking upwards, not knowing she was in awe.

She was standing in front of a house that looked like a castle.

“C’mon, Aera. Let’s hurry. We’re running a little late.” Her mother whispered.

Aera followed her mother behind, to already see a man standing right out the door. Aera guessed that he must be the butler, seeing how he was dressed.

“Ms Saera, Ms Aera. Welcome! My name is Daeki and I am the butler for the Jung family. Mrs Jung and her son told me that they will be a little late, so let me do the honors to show you around the house to kill time.” Daeki, the butler said politely.

“Great.” Aera muttered, causing her mother to look at her, giving her a look to behave. Seeing their interaction, Daeki chuckled slightly before touring the 2 ladies around.

“Mrs Jung had told me everything about you. She said that you had helped her, back when she had nothing.” 

“That’s what friends are for, right? She is my friend and I would do anything to help her when she is needed. I’m happy that she has come this far. A big house and a comfortable life she has.”

Aera was too busy looking around the house, it was too extravagant for her liking. Not that she didn’t like it but, it was too much for her.

Aera’s focus turned towards outside the house, to see a back garden that didn't look like it was small.

“Daeki, may I take a look at the back garden?” 

“Of course, Ms Aera. Do mind your step when you reach the pond!” 

“Right!” Aera didn’t even turn her back when she answered the butler. Her feet already made its way to the path, leading to the back garden.

“Holy cow.” Aera muttered to the sight she is seeing.

Daeki must have missed his words.

It wasn’t a pond she is seeing, it’s a lake.

What’s beautiful is that there were different bushes of flowers in different areas.

There was a bench too.

Aera could tell the Jung family was into flowers.

Walking straight to the lake, Aera was even more amazed that the color of the water was clear blue. 

“….Do mind your step when you reach the pond!” 

Daeki’s warning was on her mind but she knew she wouldn't do any harm since she was literally standing 2 steps before the lake, as she peeks her head slightly.

Aera was looking at her reflection on water, when her eyes were playing tricks onto her.

What on earth..!?!?

Her reflection was a girl that looked like her, but she looked more mature, more beautiful. 

But what’s more interesting is that she was wearing a big fluffy, long dress and a very shiny red tiara and a necklace that was similar to what she is wearing now.

Aera blinked twice towards the reflection, as it followed her motion.

“What the..!” Aera freaked out as she took a few steps back, as she stared at the water. 

I must be dreaming.

Slightly anxious, Aera decided to look again, and this time, she knew she wasn’t day-dreaming.

I’m beautiful!

Aera turned her head, as she looked at her surroundings making sure anyone wasn’t looking at her. 

Not minding any thoughts, Aera touched the water and out of a sudden, everything happened in just a second when she was suddenly being pulled into the waters.

Strangely, she could feel a hand gripping onto her wrist, as it pulled her towards the water.

She screamed, but it was too late.

Water and more water had entered her mouth, feeling herself getting deeper down the lake, not realizing that she was completely drowning.

Rushed footsteps barged into a room, as he searched for the one that was in the room.

“Is it true, Yoonoh?!”

“Yeah.. I saw her in my own eyes.. And I kind of pulled her in..”

“What!?”

The prince of Neo Kingdom sighed, hearing the loud response from his older brother.

“You pulled her— First thing first, you can’t just pull the late princess into a mysterious lake! You might never know if there is crocodiles or—

“There’s no crocodiles there, Doyoung! It’s clean and fresh water!” 

Doyoung sighed while squeezing the bridge of his nose, after hearing the response from his brother, the crowned prince of Neo Kingdom.

“It’s about a thousand years. Things have changed drastically here in Wonderland and we know who is the rightful person who could change Wonderland to it’s true island.” convinced Prince Jaehyun, looking ever desperate to Doyoung whose eyes were downcast.

“How do you know if she could help with our situation, Jaehyun? I don’t think she could help with ours. Sure, she could settle other kingdom’s problems. Not us..” Doyoung answered softly, as he finally made eye contact the prince. 

Prince Jaehyun tilted his head slightly, his hands waving through the table, to reveal a real life movie in the air, where different events happened.

Doyoung watches the scenarios, scenarios of the late crowned Princess of Aerina and Morian, together with the famous Jaebeom’s pack - as they went to different parts of the Kingdom to restore peace.

“Doyoung, our parents were the bestest friends of the princess’s family. Queen Aerina even tried to save our brothers from that Red head, and she did successfully save them but not the four....” The prince rambled, as he stared towards the repeated scenes in front of his eyes.

Doyoung finally sighs, nodding slowly, remembering the Dark Age.

“..and I know for sure the princess could save Taeyong and the others. They are trapped somewhere in the forest, because of that red hag.” continued the prince as he balled his fist in anger, remembering what had happened to Taeyong, his other brothers.

The prince has a total of 21 siblings, including himself.

They weren’t blood related, they were more to step-brothers due to the king marrying two royal women who were somehow different species.

But Jaehyun is grateful that the king had stuck to marrying women that had royal status as he was afraid, if the king did marry a commoner, there would be a fight regarding hierarchy.

But the prince knew his brothers weren’t that type of people, all of them are really nice gentlemen in their own ways.

Prince Jaehyun is currently in a very sticky situation regarding his brothers, as they were being divided into 3 groups, and they were scattered all around the island to find Taeyong and the other 3 brothers.

All because of the Red Queen.

“I hope you are right, Yoonoh.. Because if this doesn’t work, I’m afraid.. I’m afraid the worst might happen, and you know what I mean.” With Doyoung’s last words, he walked out of the room, leaving the prince all alone in the room, as he watched the scenes all over again.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ⤄ 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#got7 au #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 prince!au #got7 royal!au #nct royal!au #nct prince!au #nct jaehyun #nct taeil #nct au #nct scenarios #nct prince au #nct imagines #nct royal au #got7 prince au #got7 royal au

[viking-raider]

A Soldier’s Daughter - Chapter V

Summary: Skye goes after Geralt, while the Witcher makes a series of choices, that leads to a cataclysm of repercussions, for multiple people involved.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/OFC

Word Count: 10,877

Previous Chapters: I II III IV

Rating: PG-13 - Witcher!AU, Slow Burn, Language, Angst, Mention of Violence, Minor Character deaths, Fluff

Inspiration: The Witcher on Netflix, with instances of the Games and Books.

Author’s Note: Tell me what you think! Thank you to the marvelous @wondersofdreaming for the encouragement and beta!

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie, @jessevans, @rosie-loves-things, @ohjules, @mary-ann84, @omgkatinka, @the-freak-cassie-131, @wardl0w, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4, @michelehansel, @kaatelyyynn, @badassbaker, @mrsaugustwalker, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe, @severuined, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @bellastellaluna, @wondersofdreaming, @thisisntmyrightera, @michelle-1185, @winchwm, @royallylazy, @sofiebstar, @worldicreate, @bellastellaluna, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @witches-of-discovery-a, @xuxszx, @ayamenimthiriel, @keiva1000, @itsreigns​, @constip8merm8​, @scorpionchild81​, @mylifefallingupthestairs​, @onlyhenrys​, @luclittlepond​, @ellixthea​, @lebguardians​, @geralt-yennefer-jeskier, @cherrybloomn​, @p3nny4urth0ught5​, @iloveyouyen​, @hollydaisy23​, @mcuimagination​, @psychosupernatural​, @sweetlybigdragonn​, @whitewolfandthefox​, @moviemonzy​, @the-soot-sprite​, @hell1129-blog​, @trippedmetaldetector​, @captaingothgirl1996​, @dont8mind8me8eue​, @peaky-marvel​, @desperate-and-broken21​, @monstersnmoney​, @dancingwendigo​, @redhot-mystacism​, @thereisa8ella​, @black-ninja-blade​, @oddduckthatgirl​, @rosewinx​, @henrythickcavill​, @tinabean37​, @hnryycvll​, @msblkfire84​, @romangenesius​, @emelinelovesjc​, @strangerliaa​, @lovieebby​, @pinksdaydream​, @fanfictionaddiction99​, @seb-owns-these-tatas​, @oh-for-fic-sake​, @sauvage-et-libre​, @mis-lil-red​, @angreav​, @crazyandanonymous4u​, @the-mighty-jellybean​ @henrycavell​, @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair​, @iam-laiya​, @worshipping-skarsgard​, @thetruthandotherstories​, @ruthoakenshield​, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​, @theonetheycallhannah​, @nina-skyee​, @thatgirly81​, @inanna999​, @suueeeeeee​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8​, @beckster07890​, @daddys-littlewhitegirl​, @magic-and-the-macabre​, @stxphmxlls​, @radaofrivia​, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​, @starstruckkittyangel​, @heartfelt-pen​, @stuckupstucky​, @dummiesshort​, @la-cey​, @singeramg​, @queenoftheworldisdead​, @brooklymw​

Geralt groaned as he sat down on the bench at the far corner of a pub in Upper Posada, a mug of mostly untouched ale on the table in front of him.

The sparse patrons dotting various tables, lost in their own conversation and drinks, when the sound of a lute strung up above the murmur of voices, some of the voices dying out as the Bard in the corner diagonal of Geralt started warming up his vocal cords and dove into his first song.

“You think you’re safe, Without a care! But here in Posada, You’d be wise to beware..”

He strummed his lute and slowly moved about the pub, catching a few of the pub goer's eyes.

“The pike with the spike, That lurks in your drawers Or the flying drake, That will fill you with horror!”

People started shifting and giving the Bard dark looks as his song progressed, shaking their heads at him and even a few plugging their ears with their fingers. The Bard stopped by a post, resting his shoulder against it and planting his foot on top of a nearby chair, his eyes focused on Geralt, who continued to ignore him.

“Need Old Nan the Hag, To stir up a potion! So that your lady, Might get an abort--”

The pub patrons turned on him instantly, tossing everything they could at him, bread, mugs and anything else they could get their hands on.

“Abort yourself!” One of the patrons roared, throwing a handful of something at the Bard.

“Hey, hey!” the Bard whined, holding his lute up to protect his young and handsome face from the onslaught. “I'm just so glad I could bring you all together like this.” He huffed, battered back to the corner he started in by the projectiles. “Unbelievable.” He sighed, putting his lute down and stooping to stuff a couple of the bread rolls into his pockets for later.

Straightening back up, Geralt, still staring down at his untouched ale, caught the Bard's attention again. Biting his lip and taking a mug off a tray of a passing barmaid, he dared to get closer to Geralt, oblivious of the vibe coming off the Witcher. “I love the way you just...sit there in the corner and brood.”

Geralt growled and looked away from him. “I'm here to drink alone.” He rasped, his mood had been sour ever since he decided to leave Skye behind at her parents' farm in Temeria, two weeks prior.

“Yeah, okay. Good.” the Bard nodded, not getting the glaring hint to piss off. “No one else hesitated to give me their opinion on my performance, other than...” He pushed off the post he was leaning on beside Geralt's table and helped himself to the seat across from the sullen Witcher. “You.” He finished, rapping his knuckles on the wooden table.

“Come on, you must have some review for me.” He pressed Geralt. “You don't want to keep a man with—bread—in his pants waiting. Three words or less.”

“They don't exist.” Geralt replied, gruffly.

The Bard blinked at him, confused. “What doesn't exist?” He frowned, shaking his head.

Geralt simply blinked at the younger male. “The creatures in your song.” He answered, after an awkward pause and realizing the Bard wasn't going to leave until he answered him.

“Oh, fun!” The Bard grinned, finding it was a game and lighting drummed his hands on the table. “White hair, big old loner, two very scary swords--”

Grunting, Geralt looked at his coin bag as the Bard rattled off descriptives about him, noting the single coin he had left from the job he did in Lyria for killing a Bruxa a few days before. Pressing his lips together, he grabbed the strings of his coin bag, letting the coin drop, quietly leaving it for the Bard and hoping he would get the point to leave him alone, as he grabbed his swords leaning against the wall behind him, stepped around the table and headed for the door.

Smirking, the Bard picked up the coin and quickly stood up. “You're Geralt of Rivia, the Witcher.” He called after Geralt, who only hesitated for a split moment, but it was enough. “Called it!” He yelled at him, grinning, and proud of himself.

The pub patrons twisted in their seats and stared after Geralt, one of them shooting up out of his seat and going after Geralt. “Wait!” He called, picking up his step before Geralt could get out the door. “I have a monster for ye, Witcher!” He said, relieved when Geralt stopped, but didn't turn back to him. “A Devil, it's stealing all of our grain.” He explained, heart pounding as he stood before the Witcher.

“I'll pay you, a hundred gold.”

Geralt turned towards the window that was by the door, weighing his interest, then frowned at the kid. “One-fifty.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You leave no prisoners, so I've been told.” The kid said, holding out the stuffed coin bag to Geralt.

Taking the bag of coin, Geralt turned back to the door and strode out, crossing the swaying bridge that linked Posada to the rest of the Continent and where he had left Roach to graze on the tall grass. “Come on, Roach.” He bid the mare, untying her from the hitching post and led her up the path toward where he was told the supposed Devil resided in the hills.

“Need a hand!” A voice called behind Geralt as he ascended the upward climbing dirt road. “I've got two.” The Bard said, catching up alongside him. “One for each of the Devil's horns.”

“Go away.” Geralt barked at him.

“Yeah, I'll only be silent back up.” He said, not giving in. “I got what you were saying back in Posada. Maybe real adventures and monsters would make for better stories and songs, and you, sir, smell chock-full of them.” He rambled on. “Amongst other things, is that onions? You smell like death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak.”

Geralt paused at his use of the word, heartbreak, which poured salt into the broken pieces of Geralt's heart, adding to his pain and fueling his anger. He looked at Roach, as if to ask, 'should I kill the Bard?' Then, turned to face him.

“Come here.”

“Yeah?” The Bard grinned, naively stepping closer to Geralt, only to be given a stiff punch to the stomach, knocking all the air out of his lithe body and stumble to the ground, onto his hands and knees.

“Come on, Roach.” Geralt said, turning back up the road and continued on, sure that the annoying Bard would get the point to get lost and leave him be, before he did something worse.

But, aggravatingly enough, the Bard didn't get the hint. After a few minutes to recover his breath and get back onto his feet, the Bard was running up beside him again. Geralt twisted Roach's reins around his gloved fist, trying to hold himself back from tossing the Bard over the side of the road that let out into a steep cliff and the valley of Posada below. The Bard babbled the whole way up the mountain towards the supposed location to the 'Devil of Posada', as the Bard was calling it.

“Were I to join you on this feat, to kill the Devil of Posada. I could relieve you of the title of Butcher of Blaviken. I could be your barker, telling the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf.”

“Butcher is right.” Geralt huffed, rolling his eyes.

“You mind, if I hop up there with you?” the Bard asked, his feet killing him from walking so far. “I'm not wearing the right shoes for all of this.”

“Don't touch Roach!” Geralt barked at him, sharply, but pulling Roach to a stop.

“No, right. Fine.” the Bard sighed, frowning.

Geralt got down off Roach, noticing the Bard flinch as he did, fearing that Geralt was going to hit him again, which did nothing, but inwardly made the Witcher feel even worse. Skye would have told him off, for being so mean and hitting the Bard for no reason other than being annoyed by him for not getting the hint and buggering off. Sighing, Geralt led Roach the rest of the way up the path and found a sturdy tree to tie Roach's reins to it.

“You know, the Elves used to all this place Dol Blathanna, before bestowing it to the Humans.” the Bard said, gazing around the mountain side. “Then, vanished into their Golden Palaces, in the mountains.”

Shaking his head, Geralt disappeared through the tall grass and brush, leaving the Bard to continue on with his ramble.

“There I go again, just delivering expositions.” Then, noticed Geralt walking off. “Geralt. Geralt! Where are you going?” He called after him, jogging to keep up. “What are we looking for again?”

“Blessed silence.” He rasped, moving between two rock formations and missing the comfortable silence that would fall between him and Skye.

“Yeah, I don't really go in for that.” the Bard shook his head. “Have you ever hunted a Devil before, Geralt?” He asked, wanting to get as much information out of the Witcher as he could, for future songs and poems.

“Devils aren't real.” Geralt huffed, like it should be obvious. “Sometimes there's monsters and sometimes there's money. Rarely both.” He explained, moving slowly as he scanned the area. “That's the life.”

“Then, what are we hun--”

“Shit!” Geralt barked, something wheezed through the air and struck him on the forehead, leaving a deep gash behind, as he retreated backward to the cover of one of the rock formations.

“Act Two begins!” The Bard announced happily, throwing out his arms and stepping forward.

“What was that that hit you? It was like a teeny cannonball from a—oh my gosh” He paused, catching sight of a pair of horns in the tall grass in front of him. “Geralt, it is a devil. I have to see this amazing, this marv--” Another projectile flew through the air and struck the Bard in almost the exact same spot on the forehead Geralt had been, then dropped, like a lead weight, sending up a plume of dust as he hit the ground.

Geralt lifted a brow at the downed Bard, half thinking how nice it was he had shut up, before pulling aside some of the tall grass beside him, and started slowly stalking forward. The bleat of a Goat broke the humid air and Geralt was rammed in the gut, sending him flying backwards to the ground beside the Bard.

“Leave me be!” the Goat-like creature screamed.

“You talk!” Geralt barked, jumping back up onto his feet, stopping the creature from ramming him again, and tossed it to the ground.

“Of course I talk.”

“What happened to you?” Geralt asked, holding the creature down with a forearm to its chest. “Your mother fuck a goat.”

“I'm Torque, a Sylvan.” The Creature barked, struggling. “A rare and intelligent creature.”

“You're a dick.” Geralt laughed, amused by the situation. “With balls.” He added, laughing at him.

“Balls I got from humans, who left them out to poison me.” the Sylvan growled, yanking out a handful of Geralt's hair. “Did your mother fuck a snowman?” He asked, turning Geralt's joke around on him.

Amusement lost, Geralt punched the Sylvan square in the face, bloodying its nose. “You are intelligent, I'll give you that. So, I won't kill you.” He told him, sympathetically. “But, you can't stay here.”

“Neither can you.” Torque replied, and a moment later, everything went black for Geralt.

Skye had zero luck catching up with Geralt, but hadn't let that stop her, she knew she'd cross paths with the Witcher again, it was just a matter of time, patience and listening for the right tales about him. She had heard from a farmer outside of Hagge, who had seen Geralt passing through, on the road towards Lyria. So, she turned herself and Arthas that direction, arriving four days later and stayed for almost two days, asking anyone and everyone, if they had seen the Witcher and found someone, finally, that said they had, that the Alderman had employed the Witcher's help killing a Bruxa nearly two weeks before, but they didn't see what direction he had left in.

She had started to worry, though. Her gold was dwindling, as hard as she was trying to spare as little of it as possible, as was her food source. She had come across a farm just outside of Lyria, a crop of corn growing high in the field, and waited until nightfall to secret herself into the field and picked several ears of it. Skye had also bought a small role of fishing line and a hook, teaching herself how to patiently fish in the streams she came across. Other than that, she'd go a day or so without eating, trying to keep her supply going a little while longer.

Picking a new direction, Skye rode from Lyria to Vergen, opening to get lucky there.

“Have you seen the white-haired Witcher, Geralt of Rivia?” She asked the first person she saw coming into the city, but they just shook their head and went on their way.

Sighing, Skye led Arthas through the city, stopping every so often to ask someone if they had seen Geralt, but none of them had. Discouraged, Skye found a shady spot to rest, the hot day wearing her down. Removing her water skin from Arthas's bag, she took it to the small fountain in a square in the middle of the town, refilling it, then cupping her hands and taking deep mouthfuls of the cold mountain water, sighing as it refreshed her dry mouth, even splashing some in her hot and dirty face, and the back of her neck. Going back to Arthas, Skye removed her coin pouch from one of his saddlebags, pouring the pitiful amount of coins out into her hand and counting them.

“Thirty.” She sighed, a deep anxiety settling into her tired bones. “We have thirty gold left, Arthas. We should have just turned back and gone home. But, that won't help us find Geralt, the pig-headed lout.” She grumbled, putting the coins back in their bag. “A month and a half of trailing him and nothing, but week old accounts.”

“When I do find that dumb Witcher, I'm shoving my boot down his throat.”

She had said all these threats to Arthas before, usually after scouring the last known place Geralt was seen at or rumored to be, tired and tossing on her bedroll as she camped at the edge of town or between cities. But, deep down, she didn't mean any of it, she missed him, her heart only aching more and more, the longer they were apart. It was later that night, while she was sitting in a tavern, slowly nursing an ale and sheltering herself from the Spring rain that had started falling just after noon, when a few drunks started piping up with a song that had Skye's blood freezing in her veins.

“When the White Wolf fought A silver-tongued devil His army of elves At his hooves did they revel..”

Her head jerked towards them as they continued to sing and even got a few of the other patrons to chime in with them.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher O Valley of Plenty! O Valley of Plenty! Toss a coin to your Witcher O Valley of Plenty!”

“Hey.” She barked at one of the revelers at the table beside hers. “Where did you hear that song?” She asked, her hands shaking as she grasped her mug.

“It's being sung in damn near every tavern across the Continent.” the man at the table laughed, and chugged down the rest of his ale.

“Who's song is it?” Skye demanded, pulling out a gold coin and waving it in his face, knowing it would give the drunk incentive to answer her properly, if it meant his next drink was on her.

“A Bard, Jack or something.” He said, bloodshot eyes following the sparkling coin.

“Jaskier, you idiot.” A female sitting beside him snapped, shaking her head. “By far a better lay than you ever have been.” She added with a huff.

“I'll give you another one, if you can tell me where to find him.” Skye said, after dropping the first coin into the man's beefy palm.

“Somewhere near Rinde.” The woman said, arm shooting across the man and snatching the coin from Skye before the man could.

Downing the rest of her own drink and rushing out of the tavern, Skye found where she left Arthas and tore through Vergen and out the gate, riding in the direction of Rinde, like the hounds of hell were after her.

“Ah, Geralt! I heard you were here, are you following me, you scamp?” The Bard asked, finding Geralt standing beside the lake in his hometown of Rinde.

“No.” Geralt rasped, fussing over a fishing net for a few minutes, before tossing into the lake, for the hundredth time that morning.

“Well, I am starving, fancy sharing some of your catch with me for breakfast?” He asked, tilting his head at the Witcher.

“I'm not fishing, Jaskier.” He sighed, pulling the net back in and found it empty.

“Then, what are you looking for?” the Bard frowned, growing concerned by the exhausted look and dark circles on Geralt's face.

Taking up the net, Geralt moved farther down the shore of the lake, looking for a fresh spot. The Bard followed after him, watching him for several moments as he repeatedly tossed and pulled the net in and out of the water, each time coming up empty.

“Talk to me, Geralt, what's the matter?”

Geralt opened his mouth, brain working to form the words that would explain his thinking, on how he was feeling; but failed and said the first thing that came to his mind. “A djinn.” He uttered, laying the net out on the bank and untangling it again.

“A djinn, like a genie?” Jaskier frowned at him, blinking at his friend. “The float-y fellows with the banned magics and wishes, that djinn?”

“Yes.” Geralt replied, standing up and swinging the net back into the dark waters.

“Geralt.” He laughed, amused, and shook his head at the Witcher. “Why would you--”

“It'll give me wishes!” Geralt hissed, startling the Bard. “It's in this lake somewhere-” He swept his arm out over the water. “And I can't fucking sleep!” He yelled, eyes glowing with his anger.

Jaskier gulped at Geralt, eyes wide with surprise at his friend's agitation. “Is this a problem, where you're trying to rub salve on a tumor?” He asked, even more concerned for the White Wolf.

“No.” Geralt barked, but faltered as he started to throw the net back in again. “That's not it.” He added, softly.

But, that was exactly what he was doing.

He had heard about a Wizard trapping a djinn in a bottle several years back and thought nothing of it, sure it was stuff and nonsense. But, since Skye, since leaving Skye, Geralt had thought about the djinn more and more, slowly convincing himself that finding the djinn would be the best solution to the growing hurt he had inside of himself, that was keeping him wide awake at night, or any other time he tried to find sleep and peace. He had convinced himself that wishing he and Skye had never heard of each other before, would be the best for both of them. He could go back to being an emotionless and unbothered Witcher and Skye could find someone worthy of her love and devotion. But, even then, Geralt knew it was nothing but smoke, that even if he could find the fabled djinn in the Rinde lake, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to wish her away from his mind.

Let alone his heart and soul.

“Why do you want this djinn, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, sitting down on a fallen log beside him on the lakeshore.

“Because.” Geralt huffed, he really didn't want to tell the Bard, knowing Jaskier would poke massive holes into his reasoning, without even trying or meaning too.

“You know, my muse and reason for living in this world, the Countess de Stael, once told me, 'that Destiny is just the embodiment of the Soul's desire to grow.' Though, that was before she left me, rather coldly, I might add.”

“Did you sing to her before she left?” Geralt asked, squatting by the lake's edge.

“I di—what's that supposed to mean?” Jaskier frowned, catching Geralt's dry insult.

Geralt paused what he was doing and looked over at Jaskier with a look that said it plainly.

“Oh, we are having this conversation!” He hissed, narrowing his eyes at the Witcher. “Go ahead, Geralt. Tell me what you think of my singing.”

Standing up and casting the net into the lake, Geralt frowned. “It's like ordering a pie, and finding it has no filling.” He told him, bluntly.

“You, sir!” Jaskier barked, wounded. “Need a nap! Are you trying to hurt my feelings, Geralt!”

Geralt reeled the net back towards the shore and perked up, feeling a weight to it, and pulled it in faster, finding something caught up in the net that wasn't a fish. Squatting down, he quickly untangled the net from around the object and felt a bittersweet elation, seeing the clay amphora with a wizard's seal on the cork.

“It's down—downright uncouth of you, if I'm--”

Jaskier paused in his tirade seeing Geralt standing up with the amphora in his hand, wiping the dulse and grime off of it.

“Wha-wha-what is that?” He stammered, moving closer to Geralt for a better look at it.

“It's a Wizard's seal.” Geralt answered, gripping the seal. “The djinn!”

“Do you mind--” Jaskier asked, grabbing the handle of the amphora and tried yanking it out of Geralt's hand, which was futile.

“Jaskier.” Geralt hissed, tugging back on the vessel. “Give it back.”

“Not until you apologize for that bit about my fillingless pie.” the Bard replied, grabbing the amphora by both handles and struggling with Geralt, who held onto the seal with a single hand. “Take it back, then you can have your djinny-djinn-djinn.”

“Let go.” Geralt ordered him, gruffly, jaw tight, and barely using his strength to hold onto the bottle with one hand.

“No! No, you let go, you horse's arse!” He barked back, giving the amphora one good jerk with his body.

The seal on the amphora came free with a wet pop, leaving Jaskier holding the bottle and Geralt, the seal. Both of them looked between the two objects, waiting for the djinn, or anything, to happen now that the seal had been broken and the urn was open.

But, there was nothing.

“Hm.” Geralt grunted, disappointed.

“Well, that was a bit anticlimactic.” Jaskier sighed, tipping the vase upside down to see if anything fell out. “Or was it?” He asked, perking up, as a stiff breeze rustled through the fallen leaves and trees by the lakeside, stirring through Geralt and Jaskier's clothing and hair.

Excited at the prospect of having a djinn at his disposal, Jaskier rushed to the edge of the water and started barking out orders at the invisible entity. “Djinn! I have freed thee and from this day forth, I am thy lord and master!” He howled above the still stirring winds.

Geralt stood in place, glancing around as a cold chill raced down his spine, his gut telling him something very malevolent was surrounding them, no doubt the djinn, for being locked away for countless years and Jaskier starting to bark out his first wish.

“Firstly, may my rival, Valdo Marx, the troubadour of Cidaris, be struck with apoplexy and die.” He said, with surprising coldness. “Secondly, the Countess de Stael must welcome me back with happiness, open arms, and very little clothing.”

“Thirdly--”

“Jaskier!” Geralt barked, grabbing the back of the Bard's expensive and flamboyant shirt, and yanked him backwards, halting him from making his third wish. “There's only three wishes.”

“Oh, come on, Geralt! You've always said you wanted nothing from life.” Jaskier argued, angry. “How was I supposed to know you wanted three wishes, all to yourself!”

“All I want is some damn peace!” Geralt roared back at him, teeth bared.

“Well, here's your damn peace!” He hissed back, smashing the amphora on the ground.

Geralt growled at the Bard and bent down to start picking up the pieces of the vessel, accidentally cutting himself in the process. The wind around them kicked up and a sharp pain seared through Jaskier's throat, leaving him wheezing and struggling to breath.

“Ger-Geralt.” He rasped, tearing at the collar of his shirt. “Geralt, the djinn.”

Shooting back to his feet, Geralt turned towards the lake and thrust out his arm for his Aard, striking the djinn and sending it screeching away. Glancing down at the deep cut on his forearm, Geralt turned towards Jaskier and frowned, seeing his neck swelling, and grew instantly concerned for his friend.

“Jaskier?” He whispered, as Jaskier reached out for him, rested his hand on his back and took his arm, steadying him. “Fuck.” He snapped, watching Jaskier cough up a mouthful of blood.

Not wasting a moment, Geralt supported Jaskier to Roach, got into her saddle and pulled Jaskier up behind him. Making sure the Bard was holding on tightly, Geralt spurred Roach hard in the sides and set out for Rinde at a steady gallop, the sound of Jaskier's struggled and painful wheezes in his ear as they rode.

“Is there a doctor here!” He called out seeing an Elven guard standing watch by the road.

“Yes, yes!” The Elf nodded, taking a puff off of his pipe and pointed to a white tent just behind him with the stem. “Chireadan, the Elf healer.”

Pulling Roach to a stop and swinging his leg over the saddle, Geralt slid to the ground, grabbed Jaskier and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, half supporting and half dragging the Bard into the tent. The Elven healer, Chireadan, was bent over another patient that was laying in one of the four beds in the modestly sized tent, as they burst in. Hearing Jaskier's throaty wheezing and seeing the blood dripping from his pale lips, the Elf politely abandoned the patient he was tending to and motioned Geralt to a bed he could sit Jaskier on.

“What's happened here?” He asked, pushing away the open collar of Jaskier's shirt, eyes wide at the fat swelling of his throat, that looked like the vocal sac of a frog, it was so large and inflamed.

“A djinn.” Geralt replied, looming over the Elf and Jaskier, protectively.

“Like, a djinn in a bottle?” Chireadan frowned, shocked. “It's like a fairy tale.”

“Minus the happy ending.” Geralt retorted, pressing his lips together. “Can you cure him?”

“Oh dear.” the Healer gasped, Jaskier pitifully grasping and pawing at him as he continued to examine his throat.

“What?” Geralt hissed, not liking the Elf's tone or facial expression.

“I promise you, that I have the best medical education and training here in Rinde. But,...” The Elf started to explain to them both, deeply concerned. “these are magical injuries. I can help the pain.”

Jaskier nodded his head at that idea.

“But it's like..”

“Putting salve on a tumor?” Geralt asked, lifting brow at Jaskier.

“No.” Jaskier rasped and wheezed, shaking his head at the Witcher.

“His throat has been attacked by the djinn.” Chireadan elaborated to Geralt. “If the magic isn't halted, soon enough, it will spread.” He picked through various bottles of dried herbs and liquids, pouring a few into a small glass cup. “He can die.” He said bluntly, not wishing to sugar coat it.

“Fuck, Geralt!” Jaskier whined, frightened.

Geralt grabbed Jaskier's arm and laid his hand on his back, trying to comfort him the best way he could. “We won't let that happen.” He said with an awkward assurity.

“Here, drink this.” Chireadan held the elixir to Jaskier's lips, helping him carefully swallow it down.

Jaskier groaned and whimpered as he sipped down the foul tasting solution, making his throat feel like he was drinking liquid fire. Geralt stared down at him, frowning, as he worried, and mentally beat himself for being so reckless. Everything he feared would happen, was happening. First, he'd hurt Skye by breaking her heart and abandoning her, then in his selfish quest to rid himself of the agony caused by his own ridiculous mistakes and choices, it ended up backfiring, and catching poor Jaskier in the crossfire. He had wounded the love of his life and just might have killed his best friend.

The weight of his choices since leaving Kaer Morhen were crushing him down more and more.

“You'll need to go to another town, to find a mage, who can cure him.” Chireadan said, breaking through Geralt's mental cloud of guilt.

“There's no mage here?” Geralt frowned, brow deeply creased.

“The town official said, they are dangerous.” The Elf shyly replied, biting his lip and unable to look Geralt in the eye.

“What aren't you saying?” Geralt pressed, narrowing his eyes at the healer. “Tell me.” He added in a low rumble.

“There is only one mage, I was tasked with bringing this mage in. But,” He paused again, and only continued with Geralt's threatening step forward. “I was unable to capture them, I was incapable of infiltrating certain defenses of theirs. So, the mayor had another do it, and has the mage locked in his home.”

“That was so fucking hard, was it?” Geralt snapped, hauling Jaskier to his feet, and starting for the flap of the tent.

“Wait.” Chireadan snapped, stopping Geralt from leaving the tent. “You have to be careful, the mage is rather cunning and malicious.”

Geralt rolled his eyes, he wasn't afraid of mages, he'd dealt with hundreds of them in his life, one more won't do him any harm. “Right, I'll go find him.”

With a sigh of relief, Skye finally made it to Rinde, only stopping long enough to allow Arthas to rest and be watered. The ordinary five day trip from Vergen, only took Skye three, bound and determined to catch up with Geralt before he could vanish into thin air again.

“Ms, you can go no farther!” a guard said, stopping Skye at the gate.

“What?” Skye snapped, frowning at him. “Why not?”

“It is too dangerous, you must turn back.” He told her, waving her away. “I am sorry.” He added, but Skye didn't move.

“Why is it dangerous?” She demanded, leaning forward in the saddle.

“There is a manic Witcher on the loose, the officials are trying to restrain him, before his rampage endangers anyone else in the town.”

Skye blinked at him, mouth hanging open and slowly turned Arthas away from the guard and gate. “Geralt, what the hell are you doing?” She frowned and rode a little ways away, out of sight of the guard.

Hopping down from Arthas's saddle and tying him to a tree, Skye snuck around, trying to find an opening or unmanned gate into Rinde, so she could get through. Crouching behind a low wall, Skye watched the guard stationed at the gate she had just tried to get through, stopping another person trying to enter Rinde. Taking the opening, she quickly ran for the gate, slipping through and dodging behind a nearby building as the guard turned back towards the gate. Checking to see if the coast was clear, Skye started moving through the mostly empty streets of the ordinarily bustling town of Rinde.

She heard a loud ruckus coming from a nearby shop, its doors busted open and the sounds of screams of help and pain coming from it. “What is the chance?” Skye huffed to herself, rolling her eyes and heading towards the shop, the Pawnbroker's, read the sign above the door.

Lo and behold, there was the infamous White Wolf, having obviously smashed nearly everything in the Pawnbroker's shop and now had said Pawnbroker, trapped in a corner, where he was mercilessly kicking him between the legs. Even Skye winced at each of the full strength kicks to the poor man's genitals.

“Help me!” The Pawnbroker howled, shaking in agony and fear, as he saw Skye standing there, mouth hanging open.

Snapping out of it, Skye advanced on Geralt. “Geralt, stop!” She barked, wrapping her arms around one of his and yanking as hard as she could. “Stop this, Geralt!” She begged him, giving up on pulling him and tried pushing him sideways, only getting a similar outcome.

“This isn't you, Geralt!” She screamed, punching him in the shoulder and side. “Please!” She pleaded with him as he continued to kick the Pawnbroker, acting as if her blows were nothing more than the pathetic bites of a flea.

“Motherfucker!” She howled, managing to wedge herself between Geralt and the Pawnbroker, blocking a couple of the kicks with her own body, bruises forming within seconds after each blow. “Come on, Geralt!” She panted, frantically searching his face.

His eyes were glassed over, face set in a snarl of anger, yet somehow blank and distant.

“What's happened to you?” She whined and hissed as she blocked another blow, punching him in the chest a few times.

“Magic!” The Pawnbroker screamed, as Skye missed a blow and he got another kick between the legs. “That bitch of a mage has taken control of his mind with her vile magic.”

Skye's shoulders dropped, “Not again.” She sighed, then slapped Geralt across the face, hoping it would snap him out of it, but it only seemed to anger him more and shift his full focus onto her. “Oh fuck.” She whimpered, gulping up at him.

Geralt grabbed the front of Skye's shirt, yanking her against his heaving body, then twisted sideways and shoved her away; sending Skye flying through a bank of shelves that crashed down on top of her as she landed, knocking her out. His influenced attention losing interest in both the Pawnbroker and Skye, and turning on his heels, Geralt strode out of the Pawnbroker's shop and stormed towards his next target. Whining, the Pawnbroker gingerly crawled out of the corner and towards where Skye was laid out, a trickle of blood streaming down her forehead, from a cut at her hairline and above her left eye.

“Girl.” The Pawnbroker groaned, gingerly shaking Skye, half terrified she was dead.

“Kobus!” A voice screamed out, as a soldier filled the broken doorway of the shop.

“Here, Berg.” The Pawnbroker, Kobus, shouted back, still trying to stir Skye.

“Who is she?” Berg asked, picking his way through the ruined shop.

“I don't know.” Kobus responded, pushing away the blood matted hair on Skye's face, trying to see how bad the wound was. “She took some of the punishment the Witcher was giving me, then he tossed her into my shelves.” He explained, wincing at the nasty gash.

“Here, splash her with this.” Berg said, taking a water skin from his belt and handing it to Kobus.

Uncorking the water skin, Kobus tipped it upside down and poured all the water out of it, over Skye's face. With a sputter, Skye came back around, coughing as some of the water went in her nose, and tried sitting up, woozy and aching. She looked at the two men standing over her, recognizing the Pawnbroker, but not the other man.

“Who are you?” She asked, finally managing to sit up.

“I could ask you the same.” Berg replied, lifting a suspicious brow at her. “What is your relation to the Witcher?” She asked.

“He owes me something important.” Skye replied, stumbling to her feet and leaned against the Pawnbroker's counter.

“And what would that be?” Berg pressed her, narrowing his eyes.

“That's my personal business.” She snapped, gingerly touching the cuts on her face. “Looks like he's going to owe me a hell of a lot more, when this is all over.” She added to herself, pushing off the counter.

“I don'--”

The sound of screams in the streets stopped Berg from interrogating Skye further, all three of them stumbling out of the shop at the sound of them. Skye groaned, rolling her throbbing eyes back as she watched Geralt forcefully drag another man out of his shop, the Apothecary, it looked like, and tossed him into the middle of the street. Nabbing the Apothecary, before he could crawl away from him, Geralt hauled the Apothecary up onto their feet, yanked their belt free from the loops of their trousers, which fell down around his ankles, and promptly started thrashing the Apothecary's ass with the belt.

Skye, Kobus and Berg's mouths dropped to the cobblestone street as they watched him spank the poor Apothecary.

“Witcher!” A voice yelled and an Elf came running into view and towards Geralt, trying to stop him from doing any further damage.

Skye tried to run forward, but Berg grabbed her around the waist, holding her back. “Arrest them!” Berg yelled to several other guards, who were likely standing around with slack jaws, but they quickly jumped into action, seizing the Elf and, after a mild struggle and a blow to the back of his head, subdued Geralt.

The soldiers carried Geralt and the Elf away, and Berg turned his attention back to Skye. “What are your dealings with the Witcher?” He asked her again. “Be truthful this time, or you will be joining them in their cell.” He warned her.

“I hired the pig-headed lout to kill a drowned dead on my farm and he took the money I paid, then ran.” Skye hissed, hotly. “I want it back!” She told him, repeating the same twisted lie she had been telling anyone that asked, it had become second nature over the last several weeks.

“Well, you won't be getting your money back from that Witcher.” Berg huffed, letting her go. “He's attacked two of the Rinde council members.”

“And he'll be hanged for it, too!” The Pawnbroker growled, lip twitching and stood in a slight hunched position, hand resting gingerly on his wounded crotch.

Skye let out an angry and disgruntled huff, despite her stomach twisting into nauseating and icy knots. “As long as the jerk gets what he deserves for taking liberties with people.” She spat out, feeling her knees shake as her mind raced to figure out a way to save Geralt from the gallows.

“Geralt!”

“Skye.”

“Geralt!”

“Skye.”

“Ger—wake up!”

“Skye?”

“G—wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Hm.” Geralt groaned, the sound of Skye calling him slowly fading and changing, until he opened his eyes, a blurry vision of someone in front of his face, until it cleared. “Chireadan?” He frowned at the Elf healer.

“At long last.” Chireadan replied and stepped back from Geralt, the tinkling sound of chains following his movements.

Geralt looked around the strange vaulted and brick ceiling and walls, feeling the tight iron clasped around his wrists. “Where are we?” He asked, his body throbbing as he laid on the cold, hard floor of the dungeon cell, before sitting himself up.

“The spa.” Chireadan replied, irritated. “Where do you think? I hope your rampage was well worth it.” He added, more angrily.

“Rampage?” Geralt frowned, steadying himself. “What did I do?”

“Where do I begin?” the Elf asked, lifting his brows at the Witcher. “You attacked a Pawnbroker in his shop, kicking him in the delicate places.” He explained, as Geralt moved about the cell.

“Hm.” He grunted, shaking the secure bars on the windows.

“You dragged out the Apothecary, yanked down his pants and thrashed his arse with his own belt.” Chireadan continued, as Geralt shook the cell door. “Both are on the town council, that are trying to overthrow the mayor and kick out the mage you sought help from.”

“Do you remember none of this?” He asked, once Geralt gave up on trying to find a way out.

“Like a faded dream.”

“Your punishment will be passed by the very members you attacked,” Chireadan said, grimly. “It's more than like to be death.” He added in a more somber tone. “By hanging.”

Geralt sighed and shook his head, “That's one way to get some peace.” He mumbled, sitting back down on the floor, his back against the wall, literally and figuratively.

“Why did you go to the mage after I told you not too?” Chireadan berated him, shaking with anger. “It's like you thought the scorpion was more beautiful than the spider, because of its lovely tail!”

“You didn't exactly tell me who she was.”

Chireadan relaxed, knowing that getting angry at their situation wasn't going to get them out of it. “I admit I could have warned you better about Yennefer.”

“You're under her spell, aren't you?” Geralt rasped, looking the Elf in the eyes and reading his body language.

“No.” Chireadan shook his head, tired and defeated. “It's a simple problem of body chemistry.” He admitted, begrudgingly.

Geralt blinked at him, tilting his head forward. “You're in love with her?”

“Yes.” He nodded, biting his lip. “I believe we both understand each other now.”

An opening door reverberated through the brick dungeon and the sound of steps approaching echoed towards them. Geralt and Chireadan stood as the owner of the steps appeared in the arched doorway that opened into a room to their cell.

“Ah, fuck.” Geralt grumbled under his breath seeing the guard he knocked out, so he could gain access to the Mayor's house and get Jaskier to the mage, Yennefer, before he died.

“You remember me, Witcher?” the Guard asked and leaned his forehead between the cell bars, grinning at Geralt.

Geralt pressed his lips together and smiled tightly back, giving the guard a soft nod of his head.

“I did not know you were a Witcher, last we met.” the Guard chuckled, his expression smug. “I've always wanted to play with one of you, and it looks like I get to, before we hang you in the morning.”

Skye had stayed behind Berg from a safe distance as he left the main area of Rinde. She knew he had to be someone of importance since he could order the soldiers around without being questioned. So, she trailed after him and did her best not to get caught or draw any attention to herself.

Ducking into a side alley, Skye pressed her back flush to the wall as Berg stopped and looked around, before entering a building two doors down from Skye's hiding place. Calming her heart, Skye slipped back out onto the walkway and quickly made her way to the door Berg vanished into, pressing her ear to the smooth and worn wood. Hearing the faintest muffled sounds through the door, Skye carefully opened it and slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind her.

Scanning the plastered and river rock room, Skye tiptoed towards the only other door there was, behind a counter and large desk. The door was propped open and creaked as she tried pushing it open, making her wince, before she squeezed her body through the available crack, the door complaining as she did. Skye stood glued to the wall beside the door, heart pounding, as she expected Berg or someone else to come into the hall and find her there. Luckily, it didn't seem like anyone heard the door, or anyone was around at all, but she knew at least Berg had to be, there was nowhere else for him to be in the building.

Tiptoeing slowly over the slate flooring and taking one careful step after another, mindful to the squeak of her leather soles as she did, Skye found there were five arched doorways along the hall she was in, two to the left and three to the right. Biting her lip, Skye poked her head around the first doorway on the left and found an empty and shabby office, then moved across the hall and peeked into the first doorway on the right, finding an empty cell. Crossing to the second doorway on the left, she found another empty cell, then moved across the hall again, to the middle doorway along the right side of the hall, but froze, hearing the soft echo of a voice, Berg's voice.

“I did not know you were a Witcher, last we met.” Berg was saying.

Biting her lip, Skye zigzagged across the hallway until she made it to the last doorway on the right, she squatted down and carefully peeked around the corner. She saw Berg standing at the cell's bars, the Elf that had tried stopping Geralt in the street, then Geralt himself, who looked like he had snapped out of the trance the mage had put him under.

“I've always wanted to play with one of you, and it looks like I get to, before we hang you in the morning.” Berg told Geralt, sounding extremely excited about the prospect.

Skye jerked and slapped a hand over her mouth, hearing the door at the end of the hall start to open. Thinking and moving quickly, Skye ran down the hall and dove into the doorway of the closet cell, just as steps came up the hall, going towards Geralt and the Elf's cell, the jingle of keys thumping against the new person's thigh.

“You asked for the keys, Master Berg?” the person asked, stopping in the doorway and lifting the keys from the loop of his belt.

“Yes, Daren.” Berg nodded, grinning maliciously at Geralt and stepping away from the cell door.

Daren stepped forward, flipping through several of the keys until he found the one for Geralt's cell and opened it for Berg. Stepping inside, Berg ordered Daren to lock the door again behind him.

“I'll call you, when I've finished with the Witcher.” Berg told him, flexing and popping his gloved fingers.

Daren locked the cell and went to the little office Skye had seen on her inspection of the hallway. Listening carefully, Skye heard the scrape of the wooden chair legs on the slate flooring and Daren's groan as he lowered himself onto the chair. Taking the cue, Skye crouched and slowly crawled into the hallway and along with wall, back to Geralt's cell, peeking around the door as Berg sized up Geralt, who was unfairly shackled to a short chain, fastened to an anchor in the floor and clasped around the wrists, there was no way for Geralt to fight back or really defend himself against Berg. Berg slowly bent down and grabbed the chain to Geralt's cuffs, wrapping a bit of it around his hand and yanked Geralt towards him, using the forward momentum to drive him knee into Geralt's stomach, and unable to properly catch himself as Geralt fell, hit the ground face first; making Skye wince.

Berg grabbed the back of Geralt's shirt and pulled him up onto his knees. “What's the difference between a Witcher and a tub of dung?” He asked, then kneed Geralt in the face.

Geralt groaned at the blow, wobbling on his knees, but started laughing and nodded his head. “I know that one.” He chuckled, amused.

Yanking him to his feet, Berg punched Geralt in the kidney, turned him around and struck him across the face, sending him stumbling back into the cell bars. Skye watched Geralt's beating with a twisted heart and hopelessness as she tried to figure out how to get him out of there. But, the answer came for her, literally. So consumed and distracted by watching Berg beating Geralt, Skye missed the steps coming up behind her, until a hand twisted into the back of her shirt, making her yelp as she was pulled clear off her hands and knees, and slammed against the brick wall by the doorway. Daren pinned Skye to the wall by the shoulders, his face so close to hers, the tip of their noses brushed.

“Who are you?” He hissed, hot breath wafting over Skye's face.

“Who are you?”

She echoed back, blinking at him as her hand slowly moved towards her scabbard and her sword, but her face paled, when she touched her bare thigh, realizing she had forgotten her sword on Arthas's saddle outside of Rinde. Daren felt the movement of her hand through her shoulder and glanced down, chuckling, when he realized what had caused her to go ashen, and met her eye again.

“Forget something?” He teased her, smugly.

“Not really.” Skye replied, then drove her knee up into his groin, causing him to howl at the top of his lungs.

The three men in the cell heard his yelp of pain and froze, heads snapping to the doorway.

“Daren, what is all that!” Berg yelled out to his deputy, but didn't receive an answer. “Daren!” He barked, growing heated as Daren didn't answer him or appear. “Daren!”

Daren stood up, looming above Skye as he did, chuckling, despite his pain, at her audible gulp at seeing how big he actually was. She tried kneeing him again, but Daren blocked it with his hands and elbowed Skye sharply in the gut, driving all of the air out of her lungs and leaving black, flashing spots in her eyes and her still throbbing head spinning. Grabbing the front of her shirt, Daren snapped Skye off the wall and took a step back.

“Aye, right here, Berg!” He finally called out to him, who had kept shouting for him. “Looks like we have a little sneak.” His laugh was raspy as he shoved Skye backwards into the room.

Tripping over her feet, Skye fell backwards and hit her head on the slate, gasping with pain and getting more spots in her eyes. Geralt was leaning his shoulder against the brick wall, trying to take advantage of Berg's pause in beating him to catch his breath and prepare himself for whatever else the guard was going to treat him too. But, looked up, when the deputy finally answered Berg and shoved in what had been keeping him so long. He felt his stomach give out, seeing Skye roughly shoved into the room and the sick smack of her head hitting the ground, his mouth hung open as he stared at her, shocked to see her there, and in such a sorry state. She had blood caked into her hair and drying down the side of her face, and covered in cuts and painful looking bruises.

“Her again!” Berg barked, stepping up to the cell bars, to get a closer look at Skye.

“Again?” Daren frowned at his boss.

“Yeah, she was in the square, when the Witcher was on his spree.” He explained, jabbing a thumb behind him to Geralt. “She even tried stopping him from beating Kobus. Ended up taking most of it herself.” He chuckled, amused.

Geralt's eyes flared with shock, hearing that Skye had tried getting between him and the Pawnbroker, realizing that several of her wounds and marks were from him, and that he hadn't dreamed of her calling his name, she had actually done so.

“What is your business with this harlot, Witcher?” Berg asked, turning back to Geralt, then saw the look on the Witcher's face. “Oh, you know her.”

Geralt's face went stony instantly, trying to guard against anything Berg could use with his and Skye's connection, to further harm him, and ultimately, Skye. But, it was too late, Berg had seen the expression on Geralt's face and in his golden eyes. The two guards took infinite amusement out of this new development, glancing at Skye and Geralt, than at each other. Berg leaned down and picked up Geralt's chain again.

“A Witcher with feelings.” He mused, a sick and sinister grin on his bearded face. “How sweet. I wonder how much he feels, Daren.” He inquired of his partner.

“We could find out.” Daren smirked, understanding Berg's hint as he leaned over Skye, who was starting to come back around, having momentarily lost consciousness.

Daren moved around to Skye and drove the blunt and rounded tip of his worn boot into her ribs, causing her to cry out and roll onto her other side, curling up to try and protect herself, tears rolling down her cheeks. Geralt jerked against his shackles and Berg, instinctively trying to get to Skye, despite a locked cell door between them, halting his progress to protect her.

Laughing, Berg slowly reeled Geralt in by his chain. “What is vile..” He pulled the chain in faster. “deviant and repulsive?” He asked, suddenly yanking Geralt forward and punching him across the face, sending Geralt spiraling backwards and to his knees, facing Skye.

“A Witcher without a nose.” He laughed, taking great pleasure in the tandem torture.

Geralt gulped down the thick saliva in his mouth, swaying back and forth on his knees, blood dripping from a split lip and a gash just below one of his eyes. He struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision fuzzy as he helplessly watched Daren continue to assault Skye. She whimpered as another boot tip connected to her spine and kidneys, trying to curl up and protect herself the best she possibly could. But, Daren wasn't having any of it, he straddled Skye's body, grasping her by the shoulder and pressed her down onto her back, forcing her to uncurl with a blinding slap across the cheek, that made her ears ring and left a bloody split across her bottom lip.

Skye shook her head, trying to relieve some of the agonizing pain in her face and head. Daren started to strike her again, when she pulled her knees up towards her shoulders and kicked out both feet at the same time, connecting to his chest and sent him flying backwards into the wall behind him and down to his hands and knees. Geralt couldn't help the smirk on his face, the pride he felt, as Skye defended herself, but it was short lived, when Berg rammed his foot into Geralt's back knocking him flat to the ground, groaning as he again went face first.

“Is that your little whore, Witcher?” Berg rasped, pressing his heel down on the back of Geralt's neck. “How much you must have paid her, that she'd follow you so far and want to try and rescue you.” He taunted him, stomping on Geralt's back.

“She must be good in bed.”

“Not when I finish with her.” Daren growled, using a bench against the wall to pull himself back onto his feet.

Skye was laying splayed on the floor, trying to recover herself, as Daren got up and advanced on her. She looked up at the domed stone ceiling, trying to muster any amount of energy to fight back and defend herself against whatever it was the Redanian guard had in his mind. Geralt shuffled and carefully pushed himself back up onto his knees, spent and battered from everything he had been through since finding the djinn in the Rinde lake, from heartbreak, to almost killing Jaskier, who he hadn't seen since the mage, Yennefer, had healed him and managed to get control of Geralt's mind, to send him on a rampage to avenge and payback the people that had tied to ruin whatever plans she had going. Now, there was Skye, the biggest surprise since he arrived in Rinde three days before, laying out on the floor as bloody and exhausted as he was. His fear spiked seeing Daren advance on her, grabbing her by the ankles and yanking her to him so hard, her arms went over her head, the rough flooring scratching up her back as her shirt rode up.

“This is it, Witcher.” Berg said, out of breath as he stood behind Geralt, pulling a long club from his belt.

Daren leaned over Skye and wrapped his hands around her throat, she gurgled and choked around his broad and meaty palms, gripping and clawing at his wrists and arms, feet pathetically flailing between his wide spread and planted legs. Geralt watched her face start to change colors, a white-hot anger broiled up inside of him, tensing up and swelling his already massive and thickly muscular body, angry at the audacity of Daren to put his hands on Skye, furious that he couldn't get to him and snap his measly neck and save Skye, before it was too late.

“Any last words, Witcher?” Berg asked, slapping the club in his palm, smugly. “Make them good.” He chuckled.

Geralt growled deep in his throat and chest, hands squeezing into fists as he rested back on his heels. “I want you to burst, you son of a whore.” He hissed, roughly.

An unnatural breeze stirred up in the otherwise stagnant cell and Berg's back stiffened, his mouth falling open and his stone-blue eyes bulged out of their sockets. With a look of terrified shock and horror on his face, the pressure inside Berg's head expanded, until it popped like a water balloon, spraying blood and matter on the walls and the side of poor Chireadan's face as he stood there behind him, watching all the events with a dumbfounded and helpless shock. Chireadan blinked several times, trying to keep himself together as he felt the warm blood, skull bits and brain matter slide down the side of his face and neck, an eye watering lump of hot nausea rising up in his gullet, but he managed to shove it down and keep himself from fainting.

“You--” He shook his head and gulped down the persistent nausea again. “You are the-the one with the...wishes.” He said, around the lump fighting to get out of his throat.

Geralt's mouth hung open as he yanked up the black sleeve of his shirt, seeing an identical cut on his forearm above the first one. He realized now, that whoever removed the seal from the amphora, was the person that had control over the djinn. That the first cut to his forearm was caused by him, angrily, telling Jaskier that he had just wanted some peace, he had caused the djinn to magically attack Jaskier's throat, to shut up him and grant Geralt's wish of peace. The same for the second cut and the popping of Berg's head.

His head and eyes snapped up, seeing Skye still trapped underneath Daren, who had only applied more pressure to her throat in his rage for Berg's strange and sudden death. “The keys!” Geralt barked, spinning around on his knees towards Berg's body, looking for keys.

Chireadan's eyes panned over Berg's body, until he remembered. “He doesn't have the keys.” The Elf told Geralt, frantic as Skye's struggle started to fade. “He has them!” He gasped, pointing to Daren with his bound hands.

Geralt shot a look at Daren and Skye, her face and lips starting to go blue and her hands weakly wrapped around his wrists, starting to slip away from them. She was fading quickly and if Geralt didn't act even faster, she'd be dead in a minute. He looked down at his arm, at the thin bloody scratches on his thick forearm and realized what he had to do, so he cleared his dry throat.

“I wish,” He whispered, and the djinn's wind kicked up again around them, as he mumbled the wish out, too quiet for Chireadan to hear.

Then, suddenly, Skye's minty-green eyes flew open and she took a deep, wheezy breath around Daren's iron grasp. She squirmed against him for a moment, before letting go of his wrist with one hand and reached for her ankle as she brought a foot up, her hand wrapping around the handle of her father's dagger, having forgotten she had the weapon strapped to her ankle and calf. Yanking the blade free from its sheath, Skye gripped the hilt tightly, raised it, then plunged it into his back, slipping the sharp tip between two of his ribs and into his kidney. Daren instantly released her throat, allowing Skye to gasp for several more lungfuls of air, the color slowly returning to her face and lips.

“Skye.” Geralt let out a soft breath of relief, almost bringing tears to his eyes.

But, the war wasn't over yet.

Skye had yanked the dagger free as Daren stumbled away from her, howling with pain and anger, then started at her again. But, Sky brought her knees up, catching Daren as he started to fall on her, bracing the pummel of the dagger against her chest and letting Daren fall on it, the tip piercing through his chest, killing him, finally.

“Fuck.” Skye huffed in a weak and rough voice, swallowing down thick saliva as she tipped to one side to get Daren off the top of her, then laid there for a few minutes, dizzy, falling in and out of consciousness as her whole body, inside and out, throbbed and bleed.

“Skye.” Geralt called to her louder, frightened as he watched her lay on her side, facing away from him, terrified that she was dead, but gasped, hearing her pained groan. “Skye!”

Fighting off another wave that threatened her to lose consciousness, she rolled onto her back, and laid there for a long moment, then struggled to sit herself up, holding her head in her hands once she managed that.

“Geralt.” She whined, looking over at him, warmed to see his relieved smile, but was too battered to return it.

Sighing, Skye snatched the cell keys from Daren's belt with numb fingers, then pulling herself to her feet, staggering and widening her stance for a few minutes to keep herself upright, then moved to unlock the cell door.

“Here, here.” Chireadan offered, seeing Skye struggle to work the key into the lock, and reached through the bars to open it.

“Thanks.” Skye sighed, clearing her throat and shaking her head, trying to keep her eyes open.

“Skye!” Geralt called out, as the shackles around his wrists fell free, and quickly moved forward. “Gods, Skye.” He panted heavily, wrapping an arm around her swaying hips, steadying her. “What the fuck were you thinking, coming after me?” He chided her softly and meaninglessly.

Skye didn't answer for a moment, she just leaned in against him, the solid warmth of his body and his scent filling her bloody nose had a strong effect on her, her struggle against staying conscious vanished and she was alert and clear headed. That's when she yanked her body out of Geralt's arms and looked up at him, furious and boiling with rage.

“What was I thinking?” She shouted at him. “What was I thinking! What the hell were you thinking!? Leaving me like that!”

“I was--” Geralt tried to explain himself.

“You were what!?” Skye barked at him, her voice echoing and amplified. “Being a pig-headed lout! Abandoning me like some sort of wounded animal that you didn't have the bloody heart to put out of its misery!” She continued to berate him, suddenly striking him in the chest, in her fit of rage.

“Sk-” He tried to get a word in, his shoulders slumping.

“I hate you!” She hissed and punched him in the chest again. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Geralt.” She howled, her anger losing out to her anguish, her punches growing weaker and feeble.

Geralt gripped her wrists and pulled her against him again, resting her head against his chest and cradled the back of her head. “I know.” He whispered into her dirty hair. “I know, Skye. I know.”

She sobbed into his chest, depleted and done, her hands gripping the back of the leather shirt he wore. “I came..” She choked and wiped her nose on her bloody sleeve. “I came...because..” Her mouth worked for a moment, tears making her face even more of a bloody mess.

“I-I..I l-love..you, Geralt.” She sighed, going slack against him.

Geralt squeezed his eyes shut, burying his nose into her hair and nuzzling the top of her head, a thick lump in his throat. “I-I..” He folded his arms around her, squeezing despite the agony both of their bodies were in.

“I love you too, Skye.”

-- Chapter VI --

#A Soldier's Daughter *Fic* #Viking-Raider Fics #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt #the Witcher #Witcher #Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #Jaskier #Joey Batey #JoeyBatey #Rinde #the Continent #Rating: PG-13 #Djinn #genie #Wishes #the last wish #bottled appetites #Geralt of RIvia x OFC #Geralt of Rivia/OFC #Geralt/OFC #Geralt x OFC #Language #Angst #Fluff #Witcher!AU #Witcher AU #geralt z rivii #Chireadan

[guiltiest-gear]

It has to be written and NO links

Real picky you know that anon

Jonathan Joestar, Dio Brando, Wang Chan, Robert E. O. Speedwagon, Will A. Zeppeli, Straizo, Erina Pendleton, Poco, George Joestar I, Tonpetty, Dire, Jack the Ripper, Tarkus, Bruford, Dario Brando, Joseph Joestar, Rudol von Stroheim, Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, Kars, Esidisi, Wamuu, Santana, Lisa Lisa, Suzi Q, Messina, Loggins, Erina Joestar, Smokey Brown, Donovan, Wired Beck, Mark, Mario Zeppeli, George Joestar II, Jotaro Kujo, Mohammed Avdol, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Iggy, DIO, Hol Horse, Enya the Hag (Enya Geil), Anne, Vanilla Ice, Nukesaku, Daniel J. D’Arby, Pet Shop, N’Doul, Mariah, Alessi, Oingo, Boingo, Anubis, Telence T. D’Arby, Kenny G., Gray Fly, Impostor Captain Tennille, Forever, Devo, Rubber Soul, J. Geil, Nena, ZZ, Steely Dan, Arabia Fats, Mannish Boy, Cameo, Midler, Chaka, Khan, Josuke Higashikata, Yoshikage Kira, Koichi Hirose, Okuyasu Nijimura, Rohan Kishibe, Hayato Kawajiri, Reimi Sugimoto, Shigechi Yangu, Mikitaka Hazekura, Yukako Yamagishi, Yuya Fungami, Tamami Kobayashi, Toshikazu Hazamada, Tonio Trussardi, Aya Tsuji, Tomoko Higashikata, Ryohei Higashikata, Shinobu Kawajiri, Ninjimura’s Father, Yoshihiro Kira, Tama, Keicho Nijimura, Akira Otoishi, Anjuro Karagiri, Ken Oyanagi, Terunosuke Miyamoto, Masazo Kinoto, Giorno Giovanna, Diavolo, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Guido Mista, Pannacotta Fugo, Narancia Ghirga, Trish Una, Risotto Nero, Formaggio, Illuso, Prosciutto, Pesci, Melone, Ghiaccio, Sorbet, Gelato, Coco Jumbo, Pericolo, Vinegar Doppio, Squalo, Tiziano, Carne, Cioccolata, Secco, Polpo, Mario Zucchero, Sale, Scolippi, Jolyne Cujoh, Enrico Pucci, Hermes Costello, Weather Report, Narciso Anasui, Foo Fighters, Gwess, Irene, Annakiss, Donatello Versus, Rikiel, Ungalo, The Green Baby, Johngalli A, Sports Maxx, Miuccia Miuller, Lang Rangler, Kenzou, D an G, Guccio, Viviano Westwood, Thunder McQueen, Romeo Jisso, Perla Pucci, Loccobarocco, Gloria Costello, Johnny Joestar, Funny Valentine, Diego Brando, Gyro Zeppeli, Steven Steel, Hot Pants, Mountain Tim, Wekapipo, Pocoloco, Norisuke Higashikata I, Blackmore, Mike O., Ringo Roadagain, Axl RO, Magent Megent, Dr. Ferdinand, D-I-S-C-O, Eleven Men, Pork Pie Hat Kid, Alternate Diego Brando, Sandman, Banjamin Boom Boom, Andre Boom Boom, L. A. Boom Boom, Mrs. Robinson, Oyecomova, Sugar Mountain, Scarlet Valentine, Jesus, Gregorio Zeppeli, George Joestar I, Nicholas Joestar, Diego Brano’s Mother, Marco, Josuke Higashikata, Yasuho Hirose, Rai Mamezuku, Tooru, Joshu Higashikata, Tsurugi Higashikata, Norisuke Higashikata IV, Daiya Higashikata, Hato Higashikata, Jobin Higashikata, Mitsuba Higashikata, Kaato Higashikata, Kyo Nijumura, Josefumi Kujo, Karera Sakunami, Holy Joestar-Kira, Tamaki Damo, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, Aisho Dainenjiyama, A. Phex Brothers, Dolomite, Urban Guerrilla, Doremifasolati Do, Poor Tim, Hair Clip Rock Animal, Wu Tomoki, Satoru Akefu, Ojiro Sasame, Suzuyo Hirose, Mioru Kaigamori, Kyoka Izumi, Nanase Kishibe, Rohan’s Grandma, Noguchi, Pierre, Gaucher, Ikkyu, Naoko Osata, Gunpei Kamafusa, Mutsukabezaka, Shuichi, Mai Katahira, Mao Katahira, Obanazawa, Tomoya, Yoma Hashimoto, Miki Hayamura, Mochizuki Family, Moon Rabbit, Virgina, Dolce, Masago Ayashi, Unicorn, Nizaemon Yamamura, Female Monk, Yamaoka, Interpreter, Leather Goods Artisan, Fria Giannini, Rocky, Yoshiki, Wanted Man, Confessional Man, Servant, Asian Man, Obese Man, Michal Absalom, The Scribe Ani, Takuma Hasumi, Chiho Futaba, Akari Hirai, Hanae Orikasa, Sheila E, Cannolo Murolo, Massimo Volpe, Vladimir Kocaqi, Vittorio Cataldi, Angelica Attanasio, Heaven Ascension DIO, Stand User, Old Man Stand User, Dija Maker, Ikuro Hashizawa, Sumire, and Walken

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#Anon

[maku-chan]

GuYs, It’S ✨Headcanon Time✨

How I think the Karasuno team would pass their Christmas Eve and with who.

SAWAMURA DAICHI

First of all he is so hot with that smirk just look at him.

Well he would pass Christmas with his entire family. Like, he has one little sis and one little bro, and I see him with three little cousins imagine the stress of being the only “older” one there.

His sister and his little cousin, the only girl of the three, would take him and give him some make over and then show it to his family.

His mother and aunt would be screaming and getting mad at the “young ladys”, as they said.

His dad, uncle, little bro and his other two cousins would be laughing at the situation and mocking him. He blushes.

Daichi with blush make my mind go brrrr.

His grandparents would sit, look, laugh a little bit and go back to their convo, like they don’t give a shit.

“SAWAMURA DAICHI, GO AND TAKE THAT OFF!!!” his mother scream.

“NOOOO!!!” his siblings and cousins say. He gave a death look to the three little boys.

“He looks so good with the makeup, mama”.

“PlEaSe, don’t make him take it off”.

His brother toke pictures of him and send it to the whole Karasuno Team GC. For the past 3 months Daichi was the topic of the convo there.

And Daichi was all the night with his painted face, and family laughing at him, but receiving some good comments from his grandmothers.

SUGAWARA KŌSHI

This baby would pass Christmas Eve with his parents, grandparents and brother.

It would be a very simple reunion in his grandparents house were they usually stay in winter vacations.

His brother and him would help their mom with the dinner while his grandparents and dad talk about politic.

At the dinner they talk about random things and make jokes all the time so it’s impossible to not see someone smiling and laughing in that table.

“Wanna hear a joke?” His brother ask to their grandma, “No, thanks. I’m already looking at one” she answers.

“Where does Batman go to the bathroom?” He and his brother asked “The batroom!!!”.

“I poured root beer in a square glass...Now I just have beer”.

AZUMANE ASAHI

Asahi, his mom and his sister he give vibes of daddy issues.

The three of them always go out for Christmas.

Every year they go to that beautiful restaurant near the ice rink were they usually go to skii after dinner or at the evenings.

Asahi and his sister would mock their mother cuz she has a crush on the ice rink boss like that person who manage all the thing.

One day, the man just was sooooo handsome like if he was just waiting for someone. He walks towards Asahi’s mom and ask her “Hey, I know that you don’t know me but I really want to know you. You seem like a beautiful person and you just are a really good mom, as I can see. Maybe...Will you like to come skii with me?”. Obviously she said yes instantly after hearing that.

Asahi and his sister went to the rink too and tryed to spy their mom. They saw her smiling and laughing with the man, the two of them with sparkles in their eyes.

They knew that he would be part of their life since that day.

NIYINOYA YŪ, TANAKA RYŪNOSUKE AND ENNOSHITA CHIKARA

The chaotic second year group.

They do the same thing all the time.

Noya stay for Christmas with his parents, his awesome grandfather and his three older sisters.

The house is a completely chaos. Just imagine four young Noyas and three older Noyas I believe that his parents and sisters are just like him and his grandfather.

They would sing, fight, fight with the food and laugh while screaming all the time.

“I'm going to train an Alkon, so I can take a scratch flight to your eyes, pull them off your bottom, bring them back to me and so I can fry them” his older sister number two said to the older number one, because she ate her pie “I'll eat them and while I eat them, I'm going to dance a cheerful and happy dance!”

“You dumbass, you don't dress like an old hut anymore”

“What do you mean, dad?” Noya’s father ask“That the clothes I wear make me look like an older person?”

“No, like an old hag”

Noya and his older sister number three singing jingle bells but...“Dashing through the snow”

“In a one-horse open sleigh”

“O´er the fields we go. Laughing all the way”

“Bells on bobtail ring. Making spirits bright”

His grandfather always interrupts “What fun it is to party and sex, a beauty girl tonight! Oh!”.

His father and his strange thoughts about fictional characters “I would like to be one of those people who handle themselves in the danger of living a double life. You know, Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker, Hannah Montana.”

And his mom with her crazy theories about the space and the Area 51.

Yū is the fist up to get out of the house and go to Tanaka’s.

OmG just imagine this...we know that Saeko nii San is an alcoholic but, if Tanaka’s mom is one too? We have two rude and beautiful women drunk in the sofa and two men sitting there and trying to catch them if they fall while walking.

Tanaka’s mom would be just soooo chaotic, more than Saeko and Ryū together they have their mom personality .

“I wAsn’T ThAt drrUnnk, dAAAd”

“YeeaH, I drOvE her HoMe”.

Tanaka’s dad look at the two blond women “Don’t even try to deny it and encouraging her...I drove her home while YOU, love, were driving with a paper plate”

“OH! I thOugHT ThAt waS a drrrEamm!”

Tanaka’s dad just shake his head and said “I love you so much but this is unbelievable”.

Mom and daughter went to the rooftop and started to dance, Ryū and his dad had to take a stair to just make them go down again, they don’t even know how the two women ended up at the roof.

While Tanaka’s women drink and stay in a “not good state to make a reasonable convo”, the two men talk about...🥁🥁🥁

KYOKO SAN❤️💜💜🧡💕❣️💚💙💙💞💗💚🤎🤎🧡💞💞💞❤️🤎💘💞💕💞💚💕💙💕💓💓🤎❤️🤎💛💛🧡💛💘💘💖💘🧡💞💕🧡💛❣️🤍💕!!!!

“And then she hit me...”

“She’s soooo beautiful!!!”

“She will be my wife and we will have 10 kids that look exactly like her”

His dad just listen and nod, he have a heart and don’t want to say the reality but the timeskip say something else 😏😏😏.

After a few hours, past 12 pm, Noya arrives.

“Welcome to the Tanaka’s Manor” Ryūnosuke said

“Let me in, Ryū!”

“UH? Watcha want? Ya want to eat potatoes?”

“Shit, Ryū! It’s cold here! Open the fucking door!!!”

“GeT iN YŪ!!!” Saeko and her mom scream, hitting Ryū in the head and opening the door.

But Noya was smart, he already knew that they would be like that so he take his friend by the collar of his coat and start running towards the Ennoshita’s house.

In Chikara’s case, he stay all the night with his parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and his older sister and older brother.

The Ennoshita’s are a big family that live one near the other, they are all neighbors so they don’t have problems to travel and see each other.

His little cousins were running and playing around.

The adults were talking about their lifes, works and polemic things.

And the only three that were involved into a chaotic convo were the Ennoshita siblings.

Chikara is the most responsable sibling.

While his brother and sister fight for the last piece of cake at the table he just got up and look for one at the kitchen and eat it there cuz he don’t want problems.

The youngest Ennoshita chokes on his piece of cake. Tanaka and Niyinoya were literally glued to the window and saying “Chikara, let’s go, the party is starting!!!”.

A scream is heard. All of the family come to the kitchen scared but they found his little cousin, who was scared of seeing a Baldie and a gnome glued to the window, holding a plastic knife and trying to stab the two teenagers trough the glass.

“I have to go” Chikara say to his family and went out.

Ryū and Yū were celebrating that Chikara went out but when they saw his scary and angry face they started to run to Kinoshita’s home.

It’s not Christmas Eve anymore but I don’t give a shit. Also part 2 w the first years, KYOKO, Narita and Kinoshita will be up soon lol

#haikyuu!! #tanaka ryuunosuke #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #ennoshita chikara #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #I hate Christmas and other festivities but meh

[starswerealigned]

thirty questions that actually aren't exactly thirty questions: tag game!

tagged by: @tomhollad, thanks i'll be chaotic about it. as usual.

rules: answer 30 questions and tag some blogs you want to know better

i posted it earlier but it glitched and i got angry and now i must do it all over again😻

name/nickname: isabelle, often ppl call me either belle or izzie.

gender: evil hag. but, also female.

star sign: aquarius.

height: 1.78m (i suppose it's 5'10? correct me. please.)

time: 15:05.

birthday: february 8th (IT'S FUCKING COMING. OH NO.)

favorite bands: paramore, queen, joy division, garbage, nine inch nails, third eye blind, the used, pixies, the smashing pumpkins, oasis, the cure, t.a.t.u., florence + the machine, blink-182, the cranberries, the runaways, little mix, deftones.

favorite solo artists: lady gaga, bob dylan, bruce springsteen, taylor swift, marina, lorde, michelle branch, jewel, imogen heap, lily allen, alanis morissette, sufjan stevens, britney spears, avril lavigne, shakira, p!nk, soko, adele, leonard cohen.

song stuck in my head: crying in public by chairlift.

last film: the holiday (2006)!!!! i love nancy meyers so much. y'all don't know how much this woman made my life brighter with her films. i love to rewatch this one every december.

last series: law & order: svu. a classic. love this series since i was around seven years old. ages like wine.

when did i create this blog: may 2015. dude i have it half a decade. what am i still doing in this hellsite?!? idek either

what do i post: this tumblr is like my brain. stuff i like and stuff i dislike. chaotic inside and outside. no regrets at all.

last thing googled: émile durkheim. i was doing an essay and powerpoint of how important him, max weber and karl marx are important for sociology forever and how it can affect their thoughts to us and we don't even notice it. smart, huh?

other blogs: i don't have. all of trash you can see only here.

do i get asks: sometimes. i'm aloof af. and ppl maybe think i'm intimidating. or i'm weird. which last one is tru, idk if i'm that scary. am i that scary?!? definitely yes am i rite ladies😻

why i chose my url: it's about right, critical, opportune moment. and also "the moment i knew" by taylor swift rights.

following: 440

followers: 542

average hours of sleep: 9/10 hours. yes, i'm probably a feline. cats live-action didn't cast me, sadly. i wish i was together with gandalf and drinking tea with him talking about books.

lucky number: 8. since i was 8 years old i knew this number was into some good shit into me. this number is my safe harbour. now i can't stop listing into my mind why this number made so many great changes into my life.

instruments: flute, harmonica, guitar and piano.

what am i wearing: pink peonies sweatpants and an asleep kitten with his belly shown with words saying "if you love me, please... just let me sleep" t-shirt. i never go out of style.

dream job: judge!!!!

dream trip: new york, london (lu, vamos juntas!!!! dois iguaizinhos k), oslo, reykjavik, helsinki, tallinn, osaka.

nationality: MORO EM UM PAÍS TROPICAL brazilian

favourite song: of all time? all star by smash mouth. no joke, it made my childhood and i have great memories listening to it. i grew up watching shrek when i went to blockbuster.

last book read: women who run with wolves by clarissa pinkola estés. y'all must read more women in literature.

top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: no fictional universes, real life has appeal if you aren't alienated.

tagging: whoever is up to do it. but also these adorable ppl: @roadwhores (i had to do it again, i'm so sorry lololol) @katya-zamos @lncendies2010 @biglittlewomen @shikiswife @signsbeforeexile @paddingtonbears @lesyeuxdevie @rebekahgaveup @shiprolledin @millakunis @maziekeen.

#tag games #if it glitches again i'll never do another tag game again #make my words