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peaktotheocean · 3 years

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post-production

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt ao3 link here Notes: If you ever watched the Lord of the Rings behind-the-scene discs and thought “I wish there was a 12K Witcher AU where Jaskier is the famous actor who buys a horse for Geralt the horse trainer” then you’re in luck

Jaskier knew that he would miss the stable the most. After weeks of filming on location, surrounded by crew and actors that Valdo had already poisoned against him, the stable had become a respite of sorts.

No matter the smells (the many, many smells), Jaskier would always remember the sun beams shining through the high windows and illuminating the dust and dirt to shine on the horses. Jaskier had tried and failed many times to capture the moment on his phone— to the point where he was convinced that it was impossible. He would just have to burn the sight into his memory.

Jaskier had just one more day in this stable and on set and then he could sort of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

Certainly not acting.

Five blockbusters in four years and Jaskier's exhaustion knew no bounds. Not to mention people he thought were his friends just clinging to him for a ride.

He had meant for his career to be music and yet here he was on what he considered the wrong marquees.

Taking a small acting job offered by a friend in order to help pay rent had escalated into a full career and never worrying about rent again.

But then there was Valdo.

Jaskier had only started hearing about the rumors during the second week of the shoot. And by, then it had been too late. Valdo's charisma and charm took hold and Jaskier wasn't to be trusted. Was he a thief? A gossip? A drunk? A backstabber? It depended on which rumor went around that morning.

"Last day, darling."

"What?" The horsemaster's gruff tone was shorter than usual today.

"Sorry. I was--" Jaskier broke off. He didn't want to say it aloud. Which was silly because he had seen Geralt speaking to his own horse, Roach many mornings. Not to mention afternoons and evenings and any other time they were shooting scenes and Geralt was brought on set to stay with the horses. "I was just telling Pegasus that it's our last day with the horses. Or my last day, I suppose."

"Hmm."

Jaskier already missed the grunts. It was unclear if Geralt disliked him because of Valdo's rumors. But truthfully, the horsemaster hadn't seemed to have taken a shine to anyone over the course of shooting.

Well, not any humans, at least.

He doted on all the horses. Roach in particular, and Jaskier couldn't blame him. She was a sweet mare and if Jaskier hadn't been assigned his darling Pegasus, he would have liked a chance to ride Roach as well.

But of course not. She was Geralt's favorite and Valdo's mount.

Not that the actor cared. The animals were more like props than living beings to him. Jaskier didn't like thinking about the amount of times he had seen Valdo curl his lip at Roach.

Just Jaskier's luck.

He had beaten out Valdo for a role which he hadn’t even known the man had wanted. And in return, Jaskier’s last few months had been lonely and uncomfortable and—

He set his forehead against Pegasus’s neck and took a breath to steady himself.

He could still feel Geralt’s presence. Lifting his head back up, he smiled at the man who showed no emotion in return. At least Jaskier knew that Geralt didn't like anyone else on the set either. In a strange way, it helped. Geralt was a part of his respite in the stables just by being impartial to the rest of the gossip of the set.

"Not the last day overall, of course. But I checked and I know we're moving on to another area for the next month or so. Granted, I guess you'll still be here if they want to do re-shoots, right? Can't go through the trouble of training so many horses over again."

Geralt had apparently decided that Jaskier wasn't even worth of his grunts anymore. As if Jaskier was the one who came out early to the stables to interrupt him and not vice-versa. Still, the actor had to admit that the quiet of the stable comforted him regardless. No one gossiping. No Valdo. Just him and Pegasus.

And Geralt, he supposed.

And Roach.

And the other horses.

Well, Jaskier supposed no moment was truly perfect.

----------------

Jaskier let his fingers run over the intricate chainmail of one of the many costumes from the film. Percival and his artistic team had done such excellent work. It was a shame that most of it would be auctioned off but with any luck, some would go into a production vault or even a perhaps a museum exhibit for film costumes. While Jaskier enjoyed the way his costume felt on him, purchasing it wasn't a priority for him.

“Percival!" He called when he saw the crewman in question. "This is for the auction, right? Do you know when it's actually happening?”

Jaskier hated how nervous he felt. He knew the horses were up on the auction block and he had a plan. Pegasus was the only good part of this filming and Jaskier didn't want to leave him behind. “For the horses,” Jaskier clarified.

“You interested?”

“Very.” Feeling much like the office was his primary school classroom, Jaskier stood up straight and put on his best serious face. “I’ve got the space and a neighbor who already shared the name of the veterinarian he uses for his farm.”

“Better prepared than most actors who make a snap decision at those auctions. Plenty of times I’ve heard of some bigshot selling off a horse after less than a month."

Jaskier couldn't tamp down the pride he felt at getting Percival's approval. Gods, he needed to leave this set. Just spend some time with Priscilla and not think about acting for a while. With any luck, he'd be spending time with Pegasus as well.

“How awful.”

“Can’t be helped. You’ll want Pegasus, of course?” Percival asked knowingly, poking fun at Jaskier's wide smile.

“Please. Send me the info and if I can’t be there and I’ll send someone else in my stead.” Jaskier couldn't help himself. “Truthfully, I’d take Roach too but I suspect the horsemaster has his eye on her.”

“Geralt?" Percival asked. He shook his head. "He can’t afford her.”

“You’re kidding.” What a shame. Jaskier had never met a horse and a rider so in tune with one another. He had just taken it as fact that Geralt would be taking Roach home with him. For the first few weeks, until gruffly corrected by Geralt, Jaskier had assumed that Geralt owned Roach and had brought her to set in the first place.

Though, looking back, it was a foolish thing to think. Roach and Valdo had been paired together for the duration of the filming and Geralt's stony glare anytime the actor mounted the mare...well, Jaskier would assume that if Roach had belonged to Geralt, he would have banned Valdo from riding her.

“Already asked him. I went to give him the info because I thought the same as you. Figured he’d be first in line but he didn’t even consider it. Poor fella. I didn’t want to push, you know?”

“Good man.” Jaskier stroked Pegasus and his eyes drifted over to Roach.

----------------

Zoltan's head poked through the door of office had housed the horse crew for the past few months. It hadn't become home, certainly, but the production team had put together a good group. Geralt would be keeping the contact information of more than a few riders and trainers in hopes of working with them again on future projects.

"You headed out, Rivia?"

"Almost packed. Just wanted to stop by the stables." The production auction had already happened but Geralt hadn't heard of any of the horses being moved out just yet. That kind of transport, especially if they weren't being kept local, took time to arrange. He had double-checked too. There was plenty of time for him to say goodbye to Roach. Give her a few extra treats, a good brushing down. The best sendoff a girl could ask for, really.

And she deserved a proper goodbye. Geralt had second-guessed himself, knowing how much it would hurt to say farewell but he couldn't help himself. Between the actors and the long shoots, all the horses deserved some post-production pampering. Geralt hoped the rest of them would get it once they were with their new owners and families.

"Surely you're doing more than stopping by."

"What?"

Zoltan gave him a perplexed look. "Roach, I mean. You're taking her with you, aren't you?"

"Can't afford her," Geralt said, trying not to grit his teeth. He had only said it aloud once before. When Percival had asked for his future plans. All of the horses were auctioned off at the end of the production, along with various bits and bobs that the studio didn't want to keep or store.

Roach was a prize mare, along with many of the other impressively bred horses in that stable.

Geralt would have loved to take her back to the ranch and shared stables that he ran with his family but it just wasn't in the cards. It was kind of the manager to even come to him and inquire. It spoke volumes about what Geralt had accomplished over the course of the shoot. At least with that gesture, Geralt knew he'd have a reference for future jobs. Perhaps not just for him but for the ranch too.

"But she's in your name. Isn’t she?"

"What are you talking about?"

Zoltan came into the room now, still looking at Geralt as though the man needed his head examined. He spoke slowly. "Geralt, I saw the finalized auction list. She's been paid for already and your name is on the front of her paddock."

Geralt froze. Surely Zoltan misread or even misunderstood. Geralt's name's was occasionally listed on paperwork as a handler if a buyer wanted to know more about a horse's temperament. But not as the owner or buyer.

He slowly backed away from Zolton and calmly headed towards the stables, and Roach's stall. He did not want to sprint eagerly or get his hopes up so instead, Geralt inhaled and exhaled every other measured step.

Roach's ownership papers were slipped in a plastic sleeve with a little metal hook attached so it remained securely on the nails of the stall door. Little dried stains and dirt covered the plastic and Geralt imagined Roach trying to get at her own papers.

Geralt von Rivia.

Undeniably, there in black and white. Geralt blinked, not believing his own eyes.

But still, there it was: Geralt von Rivia.

"Ah, Geralt!" The stablemaster came up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I had heard that you weren't able to bid. What a lovely surprise when I saw the name." Roach stretched as far out of her stall as she could manage, just reaching Geralt to nudge him. "And it looks like she agrees as well."

"But I didn't bid," Geralt said, confused. He stared at the paperwork for an extended period of time. He just couldn't believe it. Even encased in plastic that had corners peeling away at the top, it looked as officially legal as the other ones hangin off of the rest of the stalls in the stable.

"What?"

"I didn't bid. I told them that I couldn't. I didn't— I don't..." Geralt tilted his head and looked at the placard attached to the paddock. Geralt von Rivia and Roach.

How?

"I don't think anyone would be so cruel to play on a joke on you like this, mate."

"How can I check?"

The stablemaster pulled out his phone and held up a finger. Geralt didn't argue but watched the man dial a number and take a few steps away.

Roach stretched her neck again so her entire head came through the opening above the stall.

"Hello, girl." Geralt used both hands to rub at her face. He couldn't help it. Even if his name on the paperwork ended up being a cruel joke, he could imagine her at his family's ranch. She wouldn't take shit from the bigger stallion his brother kept and she'd teach their other mares to do the same.

"I talked to the production office. Said she's yours. The bid was placed anonymously."

"What? Anonymously?" Geralt looked at Roach as though she had the answers but the stablemaster continued to talk.

"They also included shipping costs as well as extra for feed, care, special needs, etc. A retainer essentially."

"Anonymous? How could they manage that?” Geralt leaned against the stall door, brain going into overdrive. He wasn't even sure where to start.

The stablemaster clearly could tell, and his voice softened, speaking as he would to any of the horses in the building. Geralt couldn't find it in himself to angry. It was a strange version of kindness that, in his overwhelmed state, he had no option except to accept. "It's all in the paperwork."

"Can I get a copy?"

"She's yours, Geralt, of course. Her and the paperwork."

Geralt looked at the paperwork attached to the stall and began to slide it out of its protective slip. He balanced his phone in one hand and the papers in the other as he slowly began taking photographs of each one. "I want to send the information to my friend before I— before I take her home."

"A lawyer, you mean."

Geralt nodded. "Just to double check."

“Smart man. Let me know if I can be of anymore help.”

Mercifully, the stablemaster left and Geralt let himself slide down the stall door. He knew he'd have to change pants before leaving now but he couldn't bring himself to care. He leaned his head back against the door.

He squinted at the sun through the windows as he struggled to hear the phone ringing amidst the breakdown of the rest of the set.

“Geralt.”

“Yenn.” Geralt couldn’t manage more than that. He took a deep breath to try again but Yennefer stopped him.

“Geralt? Are you all right? I thought you were still on location for that god awful film.”

“I am. I’m still there. I just. Something’s happened. I’m fine,” he added quickly. “It’s just strange.”

“Explain.”

"If someone bought you something anonymously, is there a way to tell who it was?"

"A gift? What kind of gift has you this shaken up? I am going to need so much more context, Geralt. Not to mention lunch and permission to laugh at you for whatever this is once you're back in the area.” Yennefer stopped talking and Geralt heard a few voices, none of them hers. “That is, I assume you're not back in the area yet. I just saw Eskel at the market last week. He would have mentioned it."

"No we— the film just wrapped. Everything was being broken down and there was an auction but." Geralt took a breath and gathered his words. "The horse I talked to you about."

"The smart one, yes." Yennefer's voice grew quiet and sympathetic in a way that would have surprised Geralt when they first met. But she knew what horses meant to him and respected it. They had both come a long way with one another. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to buy her."

"That’s the thing, Yenn, someone bought her for me. I just received the paperwork. They paid for her, the board, and transportation back to the ranch. Not to mention a little more if needed. What could be needed?"

"Maybe they thought since you couldn't afford the price of the horse, you couldn't afford food, medical care, things like that."

"Oh." Geralt couldn't decide if that was insulting or thoughtful. Most people on set only saw him in his barn clothing so perhaps they couldn't be blamed for the assumption. He certainly didn't attend any social gatherings after the work day. The cost of Roach had held him back, not the care.

"You don't know who it could have been? Not a clue?"

"I'm...not exactly friendly to people on set," Geralt growled. “I certainly didn’t endear myself to that Marx asshole who rode her during filming.” He hated being on set but he was there to do a job and at least if he was there, he knew someone was protecting the animals.

"You do want her, right?"

"Of course I do," Geralt gripped the phone tightly. "I just want to make sure it wasn't some kind of mistake. Or strings attached. That she can't just be taken away at all in the future."

"All right. I'll look into it. Send me everything and give me a few hours."

"Thank you."

----------------

Geralt von Rivia.

Jaskier shifted all of Pegasus’ equipment to one arm so he could reach out and touch the paper. It felt good to see.

He looked around the stable to check he was alone before giving Roach one last pat. He kissed her on the nose and whispered, “Goodbye.”

----------------

Geralt’s entire afternoon had to shift. No longer could he throw his duffel bag in his truck and endure the long drive home. Instead he spent the day asking for another night in one of the spare rooms near the set. He went to ask after borrowing a trailer, only to find that it was one of the included costs with the purchase of Roach and far too nice for his truck.

Most importantly, he spent time with Roach. She was the last horse left at the end of the day. He had avoided people by hopping into her stall at some point, the stables full of agencies and buyers coming to collect.

A few people stopped to read the paperwork outside Roach and Geralt couldn’t stop his pride from rising. She was a star, great stock but even better temperament. And she was all his now.

Thankfully, by the time Yennefer called, no one was in the stables to hear a mobile phone start ringing inside one of the stalls.

“That was fast.”

“I’m very good at my job, Geralt.” Geralt wisely held his tongue. “Right so. Roach was bought and paid for by a Julian Alfred Pankratz."

Geralt blinked. He looked to Roach as though she could answer his questions. “I...I don't know a Julian-- whatever. Whatever name you just said to me."

Yennefer gently, "I think he's more commonly called Jaskier."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes, Jaskier. You know, one of the stars of the film series you've been working on the past few months."

Geralt bit back a growl. Yennefer was doing him a favor. He didn't need to be a twat. "I know who he is. I don't know why he bought Roach though."

He had certainly never been kind to Jaskier. If anything he had been a downright grump. Which wasn't much different from how Geralt treated most of the actors. Even the ones who had been nothing but kind to him.

He just couldn't risk it. The cast were a load of gossips and each week, Geralt heard something different about Jaskier and his coworkers. Geralt hadn't wanted to get involved.

It wasn't worth his time to be a notch in the bedpost for an actor who apparently had paramours throughout the cast and country, if the rumors were to be believed.

Clearly it hadn't mattered to Jaskier anyway.

"Bought and gave to you," Yennefer corrected. "Roach is in your name. I had to jump through some hoops to find this information. It wasn't easy. I don't think he intended on you ever knowing. He never mentioned it at all, correct?"

Most of the conversations Geralt had with the man were one-sided, or just corrections for his horse handling.

"Most of the actors left the day after the film wrapped. I haven't seen any of them save for a few who needed re-shoots with some of the sets we still had." His fist tightened around his phone. “I only told one person that I couldn’t afford Roach. He's not the type to pass around gossip.”

"I don't think Jaskier meant anything bad by it, Geralt."

"I just don't...understand."

"Me neither but unless you'd also like me to follow up, perhaps get in touch with his management?" She left the question hanging in the air and Geralt's face reddened at even the mention of talking to Jaskier again. It wasn't the man who had him worried but the whole process. Going through his team and agent just to ask why? What if he took back the gift?

Yennefer read his mind, as per usual. “He can't take Roach back, Geralt. I made sure of it but honestly, it looks like he is the one who made sure of it. No strings."

"No strings."

"Do you want me to try and find out why? Have you looked at her teeth? Perhaps you might want to look a gift horse in the--"

"Yennefer," Geralt growled.

"Take Roach back to the ranch, Geralt. I'm sure your family will be excited to meet her."

----------------

"Is this my welcome?" Geralt hadn't even gotten out of his truck yet but he was tempted to make a u-turn and leave the ranch the same way he came in. He wasn't sure where he and Roach would go but anywhere would be better than his little brother giving him a suspicious expression the moment he pulled into the driveway. Eskel pushed Lambert to try and snap him out of his daze. "Well, are you just going to look at me like that or are you going to say hello?"

"Did we know you were bringing home a horse?" Eskel asked delicately while Lambert just continued to stare.

"I didn't even know I was bringing home a horse." Geralt slammed the driver's side door shut and caught Eskel in a hug. He snagged Lambert too even though the little shit tried to wriggle away after two seconds.

Lambert went through his fingers on a very short checklist. "Aiden was hoping you'd break your rule of no autographs for this one. But you didn't do that. And you brought home a horse."

"We've got a free stall, right?" Geralt looked towards the stables. They rarely had a full house unless they were hosting some kind of trail camp. Still, he hadn't even thought of calling home to check.

"She's staying?"

"She's mine." Geralt handed Eskel the paperwork and Lambert immediately hung over his shoulder to read through it.

Eskel's eyes widened at the sight of her lineage. "How did you afford--"

"I didn't. It's…a long story."

"You didn't steal a horse, did you? Someone is going to be looking for this girl."

"She's not stolen. Her name is Roach." Geralt ran his finger through his hair, pulling at the tangles from having the window open on the long ride back home. "Melitele, can we not do this now? Let me get her settled and then I'll tell you about it."

Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look and Eskel shoved Lambert off his shoulder. "Lambert, go tell Dad that Geralt's home. When does the trailer have to go back?"

"They bought that too."

"The trailer came with the horse?" Eskel waved his hand after seeing the pained look on Geralt's face. "All right, don't tell me. I know you don't want to explain it more than once."

He left Geralt to blessed silence. Silent as a farm could get, at any rate. He patted Roach's flank and coaxed her out of the trailer, leaving it unlocked and opened behind him. The ranch was isolated enough as it was and he'd be back for it soon enough.

"This is Scorpion. That's Kelpie," Geralt introduced Roach to each horse as he walked her by their stalls, finally coming to an empty one. He eyed up Scorpion, already thinking ahead. Eskel's stallion was of good lineage. It wouldn't be a bad match to think of for the future.

He hung around the stable as long as he thought he was able to. Just because one of his brothers hadn't been sent out to fetch him yet didn't mean that Vesemir hadn't already planned it. Geralt patted Roach one last time and headed out.

The farmhouse smelled just as he left it, like horse and his father's cooking. The first an unfortunate by-product of their lives but the second, a welcome back.

They didn't all still live in the house. Eskel had a cabin on the furthest edge of the land with a herd of goats that they rented out and kept for milk. Lambert and Aiden had just moved to another patch of acreage on the opposite side before Geralt had left for the film shoot. From what Geralt could gather from Eskel's texts, they swapped out more nights than one making sure someone was there to help Vesemir with the morning chores.

"Hey Dad." Geralt leaned in and let his Vesemir clap him on the back.

"Good to have you home." Vesemir's gruff voice washed over Geralt and he felt something in his shoulders settle. He took the offered bowl of stew and purposefully brushed against both Eskel and Lambert on his way to sit at the table.

"Good to be home."

Lambert, mouth full of beef stew, used his dripping spoon to gesture to the TV.

“You worked with him, right?”

"Who?" Geralt looked up from his bowl. There was an entertainment show on the television but it had gone commercial. Lambert rolled his eyes at him.

“Jackass. Jaskier. They had a whole segment on him."

Geralt swallowed and before he could overthink it, told them, "That’s the one who bought Roach. Bought her in my name, I mean."

Eskel near choked on a beef chunk, "What?"

"Him?" Lambert's eyes widened. He shot a look at Vesemir. "Did you, uhh--" but he didn't get a chance to finish because Geralt threw a chunk of bread at his head.

"I didn't sleep with him, you ass. I don't know why he did it. I wasn't even supposed to know, according to Yennefer."

Geralt wished he knew why. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, though having Roach home and in her stall was a significant balm. He accepted another slice of bread from Eskel.

"She checked it out?" Vesemir asked knowingly. "Everything is all right?"

"The paperwork all checks out. No strings," Geralt echoed Yennefer's earlier words.

"Good lineage," Eskel added slowly. "There’s no issues with her health?”

Geralt nodded. "None that I know of. I'm going to call in Coën tomorrow to give her a full check-up and we'll go from there. I don't think there will be a problem though."

Lambert shrugged at Eskel who still looked suspicious. He eyed the door that led out closest to the barn as if he wanted to go interrogate Roach to find out more. “Oh. Well, I guess a person who buys a horse anonymously as a gift can’t be that big of an ass then like the papers say, right? Was he?”

“Was he what?”

“An ass. Was Jaskier an ass?” Lambert asked again.

Geralt pondered the question. He hadn't expected to think this much about anyone from the cast after production had set down. Definitely not Jaskier.

Truthfully, Jaskier had been the furthest thing from an ass. Sure, he had gotten to the stables earlier than the other actors but it was a strange thing for Geralt to complain about considering how late the rest of the cast were for their training sessions. He cared about the horses too. It had been sweet.

"What are you on about?" Vesemir grumbled.

Lambert, mouth full of stew, looked at Eskel imploringly, fighting to swallow. Eskel tilted his head towards the television. "The lad who bought Geralt his horse apparently got on the bad side of some folks. The gossip shows say they've been spreading rumors about him for months."

"Did he say that? Jaskier." Geralt's attention suddenly back on the television. The b-roll footage of a posh gentleman on the red carpet was not the same man covered in a dirt -covered costume after a ride or a long shoot, that was for sure. It still was Jaskier though.

"No one's heard from him. It's all come out now after the production's ended."

Eskel plucked a newspaper off of the counter and passed it over to Geralt who took it but kept it closed. Jaskier's face was on the cover or it would have been if his hand hadn't blocked the photograph from the view. "Wouldn't be surprised if he sued them for libel though. Judging by what they're saying in here, he's certainly got a case."

FALSEHOODS AND PRODUCTION WOES the newspaper headline shouted. Geralt ran through the first few lines of the article and felt the pit in his stomach begin to grow.

“I heard some of these.” He had been on more toxic sets in the past. With more difficult actors trying to make passes at him, sometimes aggressively. Thinking that crew should be lucky to get their attention. Television shows, soap operas had been worse. But this still hadn't been good. And Jaskier had been nothing but kind to him. Annoying, perhaps early in the morning but, certainly nothing like the rumors had suggested. Still Geralt had done his best to ignore him.

“No kidding? Maybe they’ll call you in to testify.”

Geralt leaned against the counter and stared the newspaper, hoping no one else heard the roaring in his ears.

Perhaps there had been another reason Jaskier was hiding in the stables each morning instead of by the breakfast tables in the craft tent.

Certainly Geralt had taken his solace in the company of animals before. Jaskier had clearly just been doing the same.

----------------

“You have more security out in the country. That’s the whole point of the privacy fence,” Priscilla argued. Jaskier had been sneaking peeks through the blinds for the better part of the morning. His face had gotten paler with each glance.

“I know you’re right.”

“I am. London will still be here when this all blows over. Or when a judge makes it blow over.” Jaskier sighed. Priscilla hated seeing him like this, curled up on the couch, phone turned off. Country life would be pleasant in more than one way.

“You can bond some more with that horse you’ve got. I’m sure he missed you.”

“I’ll just have to come back to the premiere,” Jaskier warned. “You won’t have the flat to yourself for too long.”

----------------

"Zoltan."

"You're going."

"Going where?"

"To the premiere."

"We're a little busy here." Geralt gazed around the quiet stables and winced at the phone in his hand. What Zoltan didn't know wouldn't hurt him. The last thing Geralt wanted to do was take the journey into London and be around people that he didn't even socialize with when he was paid to.

"All the crew is invited and the production team is insisting the crew come so they don't look like asshats. Please come keep me company," Zoltan near begged.

"Too late for that isn't it?" Geralt thought back to the television stories and the articles about Jaskier.

Sure, maybe Geralt had given into his curiosity and googled Jaskier's name a few times after his first night home but the man really had vanished. No photographer had been able to capture any images of him and his team weren't responding to any questions.

Geralt wasn't sure if it was Jaskier's team at work or someone in his corner but certainly he had read a few articles about instances of Jaskier's kindness. He had experienced that first hand and judging by the rest of the stories, he felt they had to be true. Most of Jaskier's generosity came anonymously but he hadn't always been as good at covering his tracks as he had been with Roach.

"Well, perhaps. Valdo made sure of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just meant. All those rumors he spread about Jaskier. Turns out this wasn't the first person who he had done this too. I heard tell that Valdo is going to be blacklisted in the industry and then sued for gossip. Defamation or something. I'm not too sure. It'll be out in the papers soon enough."

"Libel," Geralt murmured, thinking back to the articles he had read. "Even I heard gossip around the set."

"I didn't believe any of it, personally. Jaskier was always a polite fellow and some of it was nasty. Well, I'm sure you didn't either. Otherwise Jaskier wouldn't have done you that solid."

"What solid?"

Zoltan was quiet for a beat too long.

Geralt sighed. One more piece of the puzzle. "You mean Roach. I know he bought Roach for me. But how did you know?"

"Ah well..."

"I had to go through a lawyer to find out," Geralt added.

"I did the paperwork," Zoltan admitted. "He did want it to be anonymous but I thought that was just so production couldn't give him a hard time about buying two horses."

"He bought another horse?"

Zoltan paused again. "He really never mentioned this to you? He was in the stables near every morning."

"For training."

"Not just for training. Though I guess we know now that he was just trying to stay away from Valdo and his cronies." Geralt wasn't sure what to say to that. He had never been anyone's idea of a respite and his guilt at knowing he hadn’t made the time easier for Jaskier still weighed on his mind. Though perhaps Jaskier had just been after the horses. "He bought the one he rode. Pegasus."

"Oh."

Geralt hadn't expected that. He knew Jaskier had gotten along with the horse, of course. That had been easy enough to see, sweet even. But it was still a surprise. A pleasant one.

There was something about Jaskier buying a horse for himself and for Geralt. As if the man understood the responsibility and the importance. He wasn't just buying Roach as a gift for whatever reason, he knew everything the job would entail.

"The premiere is in London. Should be a good time so long as no one leaks the news about any legal cases beforehand."

Geralt rubbed his hand over Roach's nose and made a snap decision. "I'll meet you there."

"Really?"

"You owe me a drink."

"Should be an open bar, mate."

"Well, that makes it easy for you then."

----------------

Geralt wasn't exactly keeping up with Jaskier's story but Aiden and Lambert watched enough entertainment news for the rest of them. Gossip papers would be left out around the barn by visitors without issue. If Geralt just happened to see that Jaskier hadn't been heard from in a few weeks since production shut down then, well, that was just a fact that lived in Geralt's brain.

One that he definitely didn't overthink. Not with the premiere already on his mind.

"It really was Valdo," Lambert had told him one morning. "Apparently he wanted that role of Jaskier's so badly that he decided that he'd try to make sure the guy would never have any other roles again."

Geralt didn't let on that he had known. Still, he hadn't thought about the creep since Zoltan had brought him up.

Valdo. Like Zoltan had said, it was no wonder Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables with Geralt. Valdo Marx would never deign to get to the stables early in the morning, even when it was a necessity that he do so.

"Loads of other actors apparently apologized for listening to Valdo. They'd been giving Jaskier the cold shoulder for weeks now. But still, no one has seen him."

"I can't blame him for wanting to take a break from acting. Even now with the rumors out, I think I'd find another industry to work in all together." Aiden shook his head. He looked up at Geralt hopefully, nudging Lambert conspicuously. "You haven't heard from anyone from set talking about it?"

Geralt gave Lambert an exasperated look. "I know you had overheard that conversation. I'm not taking either of you to the premiere. I'm staying for one drink and then getting on the train again."

"Told you so," Lambert muttered. "Fine. Be that way."

“Poor guy,” Eskel murmured. “I’d hide too if I just had to spend months contractually obligated with people all poisoned against me.”

Geralt kept his eyes down, wishing the conversation would change. Wishing he hadn’t been such a fool. At least he knew why Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables. Not that the information helped Geralt’s newly-acquired nausea.

----------------

It would be fine.

That's what Geralt kept repeating to himself on the tube ride into London.

Geralt would go in, have a drink with Zoltan, find Jaskier, thank him, and then never have to think of the man again. A strange sense of closure for someone he never had a relationship with, platonic or otherwise, but it was the right thing to do.

Everytime he looked at Roach or rode her around the ranch, he thought of Jaskier. It wasn't guilt or anything owed to the man. Geralt believed in the actor's earnestness and no-strings gift.

He managed to find Zoltan right away, the two of them hiding in a corner of the hotel bar through the actual film and more when crowds finally came back.

"I had wondered if Jaskier was even going to come," Zoltan confided in Geralt, leaning closer to the bar and looking over their shoulders as their lobby filled up.

"Because of Marx?"

Zoltan nodded. "I suspect there will be a healthy number of people keeping them away from one another."

"For good reason." Geralt tried not to be too obvious in his glances behind them but Zoltan knew enough of the cause. "Why come at all, I wonder?"

"Contract," Zoltan told him, pressing his lips thin. He shook his head at the thought. "It's written in the contracts that they've got to do press and this counts as press."

"The red carpet beforehand, surely. But I can't imagine a party is." Geralt shifted uncomfortably. The bar was filling up and he and Zoltan were getting squashed to one side already. The gracious and well-tipped bartender had thought ahead and topped the two of them off before the rush began.

"You've been in this business for a few years now. Surely you're not that naive."

Geralt finally caught sight of Jaskier. In a plain blue suit, unlike such patterned clothing he had worn even after Geralt had told him he’d only get the fineries dirty.

Without turning to look at the crowd or see if anyone was watching him, Jaskier hurried up the side stairs to where Geralt knew there was another reserved space, a small but grand library room that hadn’t been alrered since the 30s. He and Zoltan had stumbled upon it earlier in the afternoon while hiding from cameras.

"I'm more naive than I think sometimes." Geralt nodded to Zoltan and held out his hand. Zoltan took it to shake instantly. “It was good to see you. Call if you’re ever by the ranch. We’d be happy to have you.”

Following Jaskier’s path and manners, Geralt also didn’t look behind him as he slipped up the same stairs, closing the paneled door after him.

Geralt allowed himself a moment to look at Jaskier. The man had his coat in hand and was staring out of the rather large window flanked by two bookshelves.

“I just wanted to—“ Jaskier spun around, hand to his chest. Geralt took a step backwards. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally said, even though his heavy breaths were still evident. He stood up straight and blinked a few times too quickly. Geralt softened his voice, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Jaskier. I just wanted to catch you to say thank you.”

Jaskier flinched, just slightly. He tilted his head and looked at Geralt as though he was the picture of innocence, furrowing his brow slightly to sell the confused image.

"For what?"

"Jaskier," Geralt chastised. He was in no mood. He had been around far too many people this night. Jaskier thought so too judging by the fact that he had left the main party room for this quieter one. Still, Geralt knew that wasn’t the only reason. "Thank you for Roach."

Jaskier's mouth opened a bit and then closed again. He seemed to be eyeing how Geralt was blocking the only exit out of the room. "How do you know?"

"Was I not supposed to find out?"

"Well, it was— anonymous. I thought." Jaskier's confused expression tightened as though he was trying to remember the legal jargon he had gone through when setting up Roach's purchase and fund.

"I--" Geralt felt his face go a bit red with embarrassment at that. "I wanted to make sure she really was mine. No strings or anything. I had a lawyer friend look into it just to double check."

"Right.” Jaskier shook his head, a few locks of hair coming loose from their coiffed position. “Yes, of course."

Geralt hated that Jaskier was agreeing with him. As if it was perfectly all right for Geralt to be suspicious of a gift and also of Jaskier himself. What a pair they were.

"Look," Jaskier held up his hands in front of him, "I know you don’t like me and I didn’t to it so you’d be— beholden to me or forced to pretend to like me or whatever. You weren’t supposed to find out. But that awful man from production was going to buy her and I couldn’t let that happen and I had heard that you were had turned down the opportunity which just seemed wrong. I mean, she’s clearly your horse and—"

"Thank you." Geralt said firmly. “Just...thank you."

"Oh. You’re welcome." Jaskier swallowed and chanced a look out the window again. Geralt watched him, very aware that he had done what he came to do. Still he couldn’t make himself leave.

"Are you planning on hiding here all right?"

Jaskier shrugged. "I haven’t decided yet.”

Geralt wasn't sure what to do with that one.

"Would you like to come visit Roach?" He tried next.

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable.

“Right now?”

Geralt remembered the early training calls, how quiet Jaskier was when other people began to come around the barn, the rumors he heard even his first week on set. How he had let them affect the way he handled being around Jaskier more than anyone else. Fuck.

"Where do you live?" Geralt asked suddenly, not realizing the strangeness of the question.

"What?" Jaskier seemed taken aback which was more than fair.

"I only meant— Here in London or LA or New Yo--"

"Here. England, I mean. I’ve got a little place a little ways outside of London."

That could be anywhere, Geralt didn’t say. Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. His shoulders were hunched and he was holding himself tightly with his arms straight down at his side so his hands could be shoved into his pockets.

It had been weeks since they had seen each other last and Geralt just. He had so many things to say now but couldn't make the right words come out of his mouth.

He thought about Jaskier every time he rode Roach around the farm. He wished that it was just the two of them at 6am on the training set again. Jaskier on Pegasus and Geralt on Roach, going through the obstacle courses.

He wanted a second chance to ignore rumors and laugh at Jaskier's jokes and flirt back at him. Geralt had that open Jaskier still in his mind, who was so pleased to see both Geralt and the horses even though it was barely past dawn and he had had a late shoot the previous night.

"Did you really buy Pegasus too?" Geralt asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Jaskier blushed. "I did. He's with me. Well, a stable near me. I know I'm not the greatest at care as you saw it but I visit him and ride as often as I can." His smile was soft just thinking about the horse and Geralt again ached, thinking about the morning dew, riding with Jaskier around the ring. The soft voice that he used for the horses regardless of who could hear him.

"You’re welcome to come see Roach anytime. Especially if you want to bring Pegasus. My father’s ranch is remote and private. Sometimes we get writers or other people stay for retreats in some of the smaller cabins."

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. Upset, even. He had taken his hands out of his pockets and he was leaning backwards, clutching the window frame. Geralt wondered how much acting he did on a daily basis.

He really hadn’t meant for Geralt to find out about Roach.

"He's really fine. I promise," Jaskier said quietly.

Geralt swallowed his nausea at just how still Jaskier was holding himself. At how Jaskier thought Geralt only inquired after Pegasus because he assumed Jaskier couldn’t take proper care of him.

And that was Geralt’s fault. For listening to rumors. For being colder to Jaskier as the shoot weeks had gone on. The man had sometimes beaten Geralt to the stables in the morning and in return, Geralt had barely spoken to him.

"I have no doubt that he is enjoying your care. As well as you sneaking him too many treats," Geralt joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn't mean to imply that Jaskier wasn't taking proper care of Pegasus. That hadn't been it at all. He was just. He wanted to be near Jaskier. He didn’t want to leave him just yet.

He took his eyes off of Jaskier's and they fell to his long fingers. Even though he was facing Geralt, Jaskier’s fingers were clutching the window lip.

He hadn’t been looking out the window or catching his breath in an empty room.

Jaskier had been trying to get out onto the fire escape.

Of course.

Geralt sighed, he could feel a dull ache behind one of his eyeballs. Perfect. He had already caused Jaskier enough panic for one night and now a headache. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Here is a card for my friend. She’s a fantastic lawyer and if you mention my name, she’ll take you on. She might laugh but she’ll do it. The laughing will mostly be at me,” he added. "You might not need her, of course. But she's the one who helped figure out it was you who got Roach for me."

Jaskier took the card from Geralt's outstretched hand and near cradled it in his hands. "Thanks."

"Do you want help opening the window that you were trying to escape out of?"

There was a spark in his eye that Geralt hadn't seen in months and he was willing to bet he wasn't the only one who missed it.

"Please."

Geralt used one hand to gesture for Jaskier to move out of the way and he did, with almost too much glee. There was a bounce in his step that Geralt was relieved to see. None of the tabloids or entertainment shows could see that when they talked about him.

He carefully examined the large window. The expansive sash was sturdy enough but Geralt was more than a match for its age. He reached up and unlocked the top before heaving under the lip.

It opened without issue.

“Thank you so much,” Jaskier gushed. He didn’t even wait for Geralt to move out of the way before climbing into the fire escape. He turned to look back at Geralt. “I really appreciate it.”

Geralt gestured again, this time for Jaskier to step back, further out the window.

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked as Geralt had one foot out the window.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I opened the window. Am I not also allowed to climb out of it?"

"I guess." Jaskier looked bewildered. “There’s still a party downstairs.”

"I think you know me well enough to know that it’s not my kind of party.” Geralt enjoyed seeing the flush on Jaskier’s face at the possibility that the two of them might know one another at all. “I'm not letting you fall down the fire escape."

"Just because my upper body strength is lacking doesn't mean I've never climbed down a fire escape before," Jaskier argued even as he made for the ladder.

God, did Geralt want to know that story. He could do nothing but follow Jaskier.

Out of the window, down the fire escape, and to the ground, where Jaskier landed safely with a soft "Oomph."

"Thank you,” he told Geralt again. Then, before he could lose his courage, he added, “It was good to see you again.” He took off down the street, collar popped up around the lower half of his face.

Geralt wanted to call after him, invite him to get a drink, spirit him away before the cameras out front could find him. He imagined them getting the tube together and riding away all while Jaskier huddled closer to him, whether for warmth or so no one recognized him. Geralt fantasized the worst case scenario, with himself stepping in as the hero for Jaskier, blocking him from the cameras.

In the end, he watched Jaskier, hunched over himself in a foreboding navy coat, make his way around the corner. And then he went home to the ranch and told Roach all about it.

----------------

“Just like that?” Priscilla asked, graciously not mentioning the fact that Jaskier had put on her favorite sweatpants or that he had heart eyes whilst talking about this mysterious horse guy.

Jaskier shrugged, swirling a wine glass with one hand. “Just like that. I’ve gotten a new agent. A new lawyer seems like a good place to start.”

“And you trust him?” Priscilla held up the card. “He couldn’t afford a horse and yet has a friend who works here?”

“She’s how he found out I bought the horse for him.”

“Your funeral.”

----------------

"Geralt von Rivia," Yennefer's voice came through his phone. Geralt winced and so did Eskel even though he was near three meters away. Yennefer only used their full names when they were in trouble. "Did you give some twink my number?"

"Can you help him?"

"Yes, I believe I can. i just wanted to check his story."

"He bought Roach for me."

"Yes, the mystery-horse buyer. I remember." Yennefer's quiet voice used to grate on Geralt. He never knew what it meant. He used to think he was a fool but as their relationship developed, he realized that Yennefer's version of caring contained a lot of frighteningly quiet determination.

"I wasn't supposed to find out, apparently."

Geralt wasn't grumpy about the situation.

He wasn't.

He just wished that everything was different. That was all.

"Well, he didn't anticipate you having me for a lawyer." Yennefer paused and Geralt heard some paper rustling in the background. "Did you know about all this? His situation, I mean.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” Geralt didn't mention that he had been reading Lambert's discarded tabloids and doing some googling of his own.

“Rumors of the situation or the rumors being spread about him on set?”

“The latter,” Geralt mumbled, embarrassed. "Both, I suppose. Lambert reads the tabloids. So does Aiden."

“No wonder he talked himself in circles about you. His friend had to stop him twice from rambling on.”

Geralt wanted to ask about that but he knew Yennefer wouldn't answer. Or couldn't, with a confidentiality clause.

“Can you fix it?”

She scoffed. “Of course I can. It’ll be a bit messy but luckily, this isn’t the only lawsuit against this guy. Tons of evidence and witnesses too. He managed to get a new agent who hasn't been doing half bad of a job. Don't worry, Geralt. I'll protect him.”

"Marx?"

"Yes. It's not the first time he's done this either." Then, softer. "I'll help him, Geralt. I promise."

"Thank you."

----------------

“Jaskier!” One of the farmer’s son sprinted up to him, coming to a stop once he reached the stables. Jaskier had just gotten himself onto Pegasus for the day. “We had a man come round asking about you yesterday. Dad wanted you to know.”

“Here?” Jaskier dismounted quickly and looked around the farm to the tree line, expecting the press to come racing at him after the teen. "Take a breath, Matthew."

Matthew and the rest of his family had been nothing but kind to Jaskier since he had started boarding Pegasus at their farm. He hated to think they were being harassed by some reporters.

“One of those newspaper people. Had a camera and everything.”

Jaskier's heart sank but Matthew shook his head.

“Posh twat!” One of the farmhands yelled from the loft. “We ran him out!”

Jaskier didn’t bothering covering his mouth as he laughed along with Matthew. “He didn’t cause any trouble?” He asked earnestly.

“We said that we’d never heard of you," Matthew said proudly.

“Thank you so much.” Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against Pegasus. He gave the horse a kiss and nodded to Matthew again. The boy, realizing just how close he and Jaskier were standing, blushed a bit before racing off.

----------------

It had taken Geralt a long time in his life to learn never to doubt Yennefer but it was a lesson that had stuck.

In keeping up with the news about Jaskier, Geralt had learned a lot about him. To the point where, when Jaskier’s best friend, Priscilla, was interviewed on the red carpet of her latest premiere and asked about the missing man, Geralt knew exactly who she was. It also meant that Geralt could properly appreciate her viciously telling the interviewer to fuck off.

Jaskier still hadn't worked on a film in weeks but Yennefer assured him it was for the best and that Jaskier was doing fine. Laying low was a part of the plan.

The successful plan as it so happened.

Lambert slapped the newspaper down on the breakfast table. Geralt and Eskel both jumped back.

"The guy who saved Roach has been saved!" He crowed triumphantly, dodging a spoon thrown by Geralt.

"Jaskier?” Eskel asked. “The trial went off all right?”

Lambert nodded towards the paper. “It says Marx was found guilty. So Jaskier and the other people he talked about are in the clear with any luck. Have you talked to him?"

"What?" Geralt looked up from the front page. Jaskier looked good in most outfits, of course, but the official black suit for court did nothing but match him to Yennefer, who was barely in the photograph, as the newspaper had tried so hard to cut her out.

"I know it says he won the case but he looks here miserable, mate.”

"Tabloid photos aren't real indicators of a person's well-being," Geralt said stiffly. Even though Lambert was right. Geralt kept picturing the animated Jaskier that he had been privileged to see for a whole thirty seconds at the premiere party.

"You texted him though, right?"

Geralt hummed. "Yennefer's helping him out."

Eskel and Lambert responded at the same time.

"That's not an answer to his question."

"That's not an answer to my question."

Sometimes Geralt really hated his brothers.

"You gave him Yennefer's name?" Eskel urged on.

“Must have,” Lambert commented, tapping on the partial shot of Yennefer buried under headline text.

"Her card." Geralt also remembered Jaskier's uncomfortable body language at the party. Curled in on himself, not meeting anyone's eyes and when he did, he looked right past them. Sometimes when Geralt closed his eyes he saw Jaskier's white knuckles against the windowpane, desperate to make an escape. Geralt provided that. He gave that to him. And Yennefer's information. "He seemed like he just needed someone in his corner."

"And now?"

"He's Yennefer's client right now. They're not friends. Yet,” he added. “Knowing Yennefer, it will depend on if she likes him or not."

Lambert turned back towards his breakfast but Eskel still had a knowing eye on his brother.

“Looks like it’s all wrapped up. He’s not her client anymore.”

"I don't have his number." Geralt admitted, just barely audible. “I never did.”

Eskel reached over and tapped on the screen of Geralt’s phone. "I bet Yennefer does."

----------------

Geralt: Do you have Jaskier's number? Yennefer: Finally. Yennefer: I can't give it to you. Yennefer: But I can give your information to him. Geralt: Thank you. Yennefer: He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

----------------

Yennefer: 033 0058 0058 Jaskier: What's that? Yennefer: Geralt's number.

Jaskier sighed and touched his thumb to Yennefer's name.

"You're calling the wrong number," she told him in lieu of a greeting.

"I don't know him," Jaskier argued. "We were never supposed to see each other again."

"I expect a gift basket after the wedding then."

"Shall I expect one for you and Priscilla?" Jaskier asked coolly. Thankfully, Yennefer laughed and he managed to keep going. "He didn't want to talk to me when we had to spend near every day together. I don't think I can manage a phone conversation if it's just me." He wasn't worried about being too honest. Not with Yennefer, not after the trial.

He'd woken up plenty of times in Priscilla's flat after an emotional night to Yennefer at the door with breakfast for all three of them.

Yennefer hummed and in a way, she sounded almost like Geralt. "You're right. Can I make another suggestion?"

----------------

Yennefer: Are you home today? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: All day? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: Good. Stay there. Yennefer: Or outside. By the driveway. Geralt: Why? Yennefer: Trust me, Geralt. It's a lovely day. Yennefer: Just enjoy yourself.

----------------

Geralt stuffed his phone back in his pocket and asked Roach, “What do you think?”

Roach just looked at him which was fair but Geralt’s heart started to race with the anticipation.

He couldn’t be sure of what was coming but he hoped. He left the stables and headed for the house. Sitting on the porch did nothing for Geralt’s nerves so instead he found himself standing in front of it.

Barely twenty minutes had gone by but still Geralt found himself picking the paint off of the porch railing.

An unfamiliar engine caught Geralt’s ear and he turned towards the front drive.

Then, there he was.

Jaskier.

In a shoddy little truck with faded red paint that was nearing pink. It looked as though perhaps Vesemir was only one old enough to have purchased it as new. He was towing a trailer behind him and Geralt would be willing to bet that he knew who was in there.

He also clearly didn’t know where to park. No doubt Yennefer had given him an address only. Geralt didn’t bother to hold back his enthusiasm, waving Jaskier towards the neat line of vehicles by the stables.

Geralt wondered if it would be too much to open the door for him but he remembered Yennefer’s words.

He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

Geralt could do gentle. He’d soothed plenty a horse in his time. So he hung back, just giving Jaskier what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he opened the car door himself.

"Um. Hello," Jaskier said shyly, a little nod of his head. With his priorities in place, he was already headed around to the trailer door. Geralt knew he was going to let Pegasus out but he couldn't help but feel as though Jaskier was trying to avoid contact with him at the same time.

He remembered how Jaskier needed to do something with his hands even on a good day, whether that was the infuriating clicking of the pen he used to make notes on his script or the constant twisting of Pegasus' leather reins around his fingers.

Geralt liked to think that this would be a good day but he knew how much courage it took for Jaskier to drive here with his horse.

Jaskier gave Pegasus a happy smile and guided him out of the trailer. It wasn't until the horse was solidly on the grass that Jaskier met Geralt's eyes again. Geralt could see that it wasn't just shyness. It was nerves.

Jaskier was biting at his lip and playing with the leather of the reins just like he had those mornings on set. "I wasn’t sure if the offer to visit was still there. Yennefer said—

"Yennefer was right," Geralt said quickly, beating Jaskier to the trailer door. He latched it shut, staring unblinkingly at Jaskier.

"Did Yennefer tell you to say that?"

“In my experience, it’s usually true,” Geralt joked. He took a step forward. "I'm...glad you're here."

"Oh. Oh, good," Jaskier sounded so relieved that Geralt wanted to convince him to stay forever. To gain confidence as Geralt did around his brothers, to be fed delicious meals by his father, and most importantly, to find peace with Geralt.

"I'm not...I'm not great over the phone anyway,” Geralt offered.

"I thought that might be the case,” Jaskier admitted honestly. “I wasn’t sure if I could stand to carry a whole conversation. Yennefer thought it would be easier for us just to..."

"Be together in person?"

"Well, I was going to say be with the horses. So we both have something to focus on if we need it." Jaskier lovingly stroked Pegasus and the horse nuzzled at him. Geralt had seen the same scene dozens of times over but that had been on set. Seeing it again here, on his family’s ranch was almost too good to be true.

"That works too." Geralt paused a moment and then urged Jaskier to follow him. “Come out to the barn. She’ll be excited to see you.”

Jaskier walked Pegasus through the stables. He let out the sweetest sigh upon seeing Roach again and Geralt never wanted Jaskier to leave the ranch again.

"Oh, hello, darling," Jaskier said quietly. Geralt took Pegasus' reins and Jaskier used his free hands to rub at Roach's nose. She leaned into the petting and Geralt wished he could take a photograph.

“I was a twat,” Geralt told him while Jaskier was distracted by a beautiful horse. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looked down and shrugged. “I’m sure you see all sorts on film sets. I can’t even imagine.”

“I bet you can.” Geralt stroked Pegasus. He unlatched Roach’s stall and gestured for Jaskier to lead her out. “You weren’t any trouble, you know.”

“I don’t know if you remember but you…you yelled at Marx one day. He was crowding me in the stable and Roach picked up on my mood and became irritated with him. You told him off.” Jaskier told all this to Roach and Geralt did him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

Geralt didn’t remember though. He had chased away dozens of actors from horses over the years. It didn’t surprise him that Marx had been one of them.

“I’m glad she was there to protect you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“I won’t say that it’s all right,” Jaskier said, with more strength than he looked. He swallowed and finally turned to Geralt. “It’s been…a long few weeks. Months, really. But we’re here now and—“

Roach nudged him again and he let out a little laugh. Some of the tension leaving him.

Roach nuzzled closer and Jaskier could tell she was eager to get out of her stall. “Yes, darling. I brought your old friend to come see you. I thought perhaps--" He looked at Geralt. "I thought perhaps we could go for a ride together? If you'd like."

"I'd love that," Geralt croaked, wondering how Jaskier could still be so brave after all this. That he was here and talking and asking Geralt to spend time with him. "Let me tack him up for you?" He asked, hand on Pegasus' flank.

Jaskier's brow furrowed. "I can do it."

"I know that you can. I want to do to it,” Geralt stressed. "Please," he added.

"Let's swap," Jaskier said, still lovingly petting Roach. "I haven't seen this girl in a while. It'll be nice."

"All right," Geralt agreed. He could see what Jaskier was doing.

It wasn't about a penance. Jaskier wanted them on some kind of equal footing. That was fair, Geralt supposed. Even though as of that specific moment, Geralt wanted to give Jaskier the world.

"Are you all right now?" Geralt asked, hesitating in a way that he hoped made an answer not necessary if Jaskier didn’t want to respond.

"Well, I don't know about 'all right,'" Jaskier huffed. His eyes were looking straight ahead. "Yennefer certainly settled some things. I'm not sure I'll be acting anytime soon. Or um, answering my phone calls. I've actually changed my number again. Remind me to give it to you."

"I'd like that." Geralt didn't mention that he never had Jaskier's number in the first place.

"It's not the press," he assured Geralt. "Just a lot of people trying to apologize or offering to support me. I'm talking to the same few who always believed me before everything, you know? Mostly just Priscilla and Yennefer right now."

Geralt didn't know. He was one of the people who...well, he's not sure that he believed the rumors. He wasn't someone to go around sets making friends regardless. But he had certainly heard the gossip, listened to it even.

He liked to think he made up for some of that but in actuality, Geralt knew it didn't matter. He'll always wish he had behaved differently when he first met Jaskier. He could have maybe had Jaskier in his life for so much longer. Could have supported him better during this shit time instead of just handing over Yennefer's card and begging her to take the case.

Geralt's mind was full of questions that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask. He wasn't even sure he wanted the answers either. What was Jaskier going to do now? Geralt knew that one was selfish because he so wanted the answer to include him.

They worked in silence to get the horses ready but it wasn’t a silence that Geralt minded. Especially not when it was broken every moments by Jaskier giggling whenever Roach tried to interrupt his actions. He watched Jaskier get up onto Pegasus before following on Roach.

“You could always keep Pegasus—“

"I was thinking maybe I could board Pegasus here? If you've got the room—"

"Yes!" Geralt said immediately, cutting off what he had started saying as well as Jaskier's nervous rant. He didn't want Jaskier to be unsure of himself ever again. Not where Geralt was concerned. "You could come by whenever you'd like. Hopefully...often," he let himself say, voice growing stronger as the sentence went on.

"Yeah?" Jaskier asked. Geralt couldn't look away from how his teeth trapped his bottom lip between them. He was grateful that they were both on horses, otherwise Geralt wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from taking his thumb and slipping the abused lip to safety. "I don't live too far away. I hadn’t realized.”

Geralt swallowed. He met Jaskier’s big blue eyes and knew his own were rounded in vulnerability. “Please."

Jaskier finally, finally, smiled at him in such a way that Geralt felt his chest loosen. Jaskier nodded and Geralt felt his heart beating in his chest again. He grinned back at Jaskier and felt something swirl around them.

“Stay for dinner? My brothers would love to meet you. My father too.” Geralt was horrified at himself. He hadn’t rambled on like this in years. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself, not when Jaskier was giggling and trying to hide it with a hand over his mouth. “My brother Eskel’s horse is the one I’m planning to pair Roach with but I’m making him grovel for it if you’d like to help.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaskier laughed openly at him. Geralt didn’t mind one bit. “I’d love to stay, thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Jaskier as they mounted. It seemed Jaskier didn’t mind, snorting each time he caught his former horse master. And then he did the same, with Geralt trying not to preen too much in response.

Jaskier told him about Priscilla and Yennefer meeting and how he couldn’t go to dinner with the two of them alone again, Geralt, please.

Geralt explained how the farm worked and how much he disliked being on set away from his brothers, even when the money was good. How mercilessly they had teased him about Jaskier when he had returned.

They rode through the ranch, to Eskel’s farm, and Geralt found that both of them were becoming freer with their laughs by each trot.

The two of them had a strange beginning and a tumultuous middle but perhaps, if Geralt and Jaskier worked for it, they could have a lovely end.

----------------

ao3 link here

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #the witcher fic

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vanilla-vivillon · 3 years

Text

Part two of Zoyalai kid as promised

Here’s part one- https://dablackdahlia.tumblr.com/post/650586205772201984/the-black-dahlia

Massive row spoilers

Prince Mycanae Juris Nazyalensky( My Kuh Nay Uh) was turning one years old

It was suprising how quickly he grew up

To Nikolai at least

For Zoya, who adored her son couldn’t wait for him to get older

For one thing while the baby didn’t cry to much at night (whitch was a blessing from the saints)

He couldn’t be Grisha tested

Most ravkans were tested around the age of seven though it varies

Myca was far to young

It was decided when he turned four he would be tested

And so the country was forced to wait four long years

Three more years to go Zoya thought to herself

Myca was an easy baby

That was what his doctors said

He barely if ever cried in the night and was sociable enough

Unlike Genya and David’s son Forrest Kostyk who from all of Zoyas interactions and everything Genya and David mentioned he was a nightmare

Constantly screaming

Hates to eat everything

And now that His teeth were a big enough size he started biting

She had gotten lucky

But Nikolai and her started talking about having more kids

And Zoya found she wanted more aswell

Nikolais pitch however would be far to amusing for her to not listen to

“Come on Zoya only children are the freaks in the playground!” Nikolai said gesturing incredulously

They just gotten Myca put to bed and were having much needed glasses of wine

He needed his rest for his birthday tomorrow

Even though they could’ve had many nannies take care of him that night, neither of them wanted that

Nikolai grew up like that and he wasn’t as close to his mother because of it.

Not to mention the old king was scarce most of his early upbringing

Zoya didn’t want that for Myca either

Of course with all of there duties they had to get some help but they always, always, made sure they put him to bed in the room across from there’s

“Nikolai I’m an only child” zoya retorted

“Touché, but what if something were to happen that Myca couldn’t become king? We would need another option!” Nikolai threw back

Nikolai having another realization

“Plus, it would’ve really helped me growing up to have a good sibling”

This was something Zoya thought about aswell

As a girl she wished for a baby sister

And so did her mother

Sabina had four miscarriages

The last one was the worst

She was safely in the third trimester when it happened

Sabina was distraught for weeks

And when she finally came to, she was different

Harder

Sadder

Meaner

And a couple years later marching Zoya down an aisle

“You know I’m already convinced Nikolai right?” Zoya laughed tired of this charade

Before Myca was born Zoya thought she’d have one

One child

One heir

But she had changed her mind and wanted more

Nikolai showed her a dazzling smile “perfect” he said with a kiss

Zoyas second pregnancy was different

Her morning sickness wasn’t as bad as her first

But a new thing has arrived

cravings

She was consuming unhealthy amounts of Ravkan chocolates

But nonetheless the baby’s due date was July eighth

The date came and passed

But it was nothing to be worried about

There was a lot of moments where they were like “this Is it, the babies coming” then nope

Zoya was 43 weeks pregnant

The baby would be post term

Nikolai would say this is a sign that this child was going to Be late for everything

A difference when Myca was born on the exact due date

But in the middle of the night July twenty second Zoya went into Labor

There second child was Prince Nazariy (Nah-Zuh-ree) Dominik Nazyalensky

He had Brown skin almost darker then Zoya’s and black hair

But it was his eyes that captivated people

He had sectoral heterochromia

His Blue eyes like his Mothers had parts of brown (example below)

They decided on his middle name after Nikolais friend Dominick after some rigorous debate

Zoya wanted to continue with Saint middle names

Nikolai argued Juris was a personal friend

In the end with Nikolais charisma he won

His name Nazariy was actually found in a simple baby book

While Mycanae was in old ravkan and they liked the nickname Myca

They were much more lax with there second son

They eventually decided to have four kids but wanted to wait until Myca would get tested before having there next two children

Time skip three years because your girl can’t detail everything

Myca was four years old and today was the day

He was dressed in his best clothes

What would happen is he would go up in front of the entirety of the Ravkan nobility and other ambassadors and such and would get tested

Zoyas power still couldn’t sense anything in him or Nazariy, but a couple months prior Forrest Kostyk was revealed to be an Alkemi

It seemed that when the grisha first used there ability it activates something and typically Zoya could sense it

Because now Zoya could see Forrest as an Alkemi easily

So while she couldn’t sense anything in her sons that didn’t mean there was nothing there

Zoya and Nikolai had finally gotten most of the details finished and it was them, Nazariy and Myca, and the triumvirate working out some details in the meeting room

Well, Nazariy was pretending he was a squaller by blowing on some paper

And Myca was clearly trying to convince him that wasn’t how it worked

It seemed Myca hadn’t quite grasped his two year old little brother couldn’t care less about what he thought

A fact that would never change over the years

“I don’t understand why we don’t just test him right here right now?” Adrik insisted for the ninth time “less risk”

“And then what if he turns out to be Grisha but presented before the nobility nothing happens? The grisha test only works when they just start out” Tamar responded

“It could still work in front of the nobility” Adrik insisted

“And if all else fails we can just tell him to summon a gust” Tolya added

Tolya was fiercely protective of the boys

It probably started when a couple months ago Myca showed a vague interest in his favorite Poet and the friendship bloomed

“Tolya most summoners can’t summon until days of practice” Leoni interjected “Plus, we’ve made plans on all outcomes and it’s to late to change them now, look on the bright si-”

“Nazariy spit that out!” Zoya interupted

Apparently the little hellhound put one of David’s nails in his mouth

Nazariy, learning his mother wasn’t to be trifled with quickly on, spit it out

Back to the conversation they started on a topic healthy debated

“There’s no way the kid is Grisha!” Adrik started on

“But Adrik he hasn’t gotten sick. And Grisha dont get sick to!” Leoni countered

This back and forth started since Zoya announced her pregnancy

It was a headache really

But when she turned towards the three boys who had come to mean the world to her it was all worth it

Nikolai was with the boys and was apparently taking on Nazariy’s side claiming him blowing on the paper was just as credible as Mommy’s lightning

Myca fought back and claimed any otkaxatsya could do that

It was something happening more often

Myca makes an offhand statement and Nikolai fighting the other side

It was adorable really how Mycas eyes would light up and debate with his father

Plus it would make him think more critically and would make a good king out of him

Not to mention how it really helped Nikolai and him bond

Nikolai and him had some trouble sometimes

Myca doesn’t usually respond to jokes

It seemed after his silly and rambunctious troublemaker of a brother was born he decided he would have to be serious enough for the both of them

Or at least as serious as a four year old could be

But rigourous debate on whether or not green looked good on Nazariy was something they both seemed to enjoy

And as much as Zoya wished she could watch forever it was time

Time to see if her baby boy had certain talents

Myca was scared

He was behind the door waiting to be presented before his mother, father, brother, who would all be seated on the thrones, and of course the rest of the nobility

‘People like you Myca!’ Nikolai would insist ‘there’s nothing to worry about no matter what happens!’

Myca thought he was trying to alleviate the pressure but it wasn’t working

Suddenly his que to come In was called and he walked in

Head held high and posture immaculate he waltzed through the door

The person who was testing him was the Baron of Banewood

An old man who hated nonsense, children, and Prince Nazariy since he was both of those things

He came forward and after some very boring speeches that Myca couldn’t bring himself to listen to until the Baron told him to stick out his hand

Myca complied and the baron produced a very big pin

Guess everyone wanted to be really sure he was Grisha or not

His eyes wandered to his family

Theyre faces looked calculatingly impassive

He knew it was a front

They needed to seem stable for the people

Nazariy who was standing next to the throne was having difficulties standing still

Myca felt bad for him

Half of being royalty is sitting still looking pretty

He trained his eyes back on his parents and saw his father give him a small wink

I got this, I’m prepared for the result, I can do this

As the pin was stabbed into his skin Myca felt it

That calling

That thing begging to come out whenever he saw his Mother doing something grand

Or when he really wanted his brother to leave him alone

And Myca let it overcome him

When he opened his eyes he could see the Baron knocked over and a small breeze

A firm hand clamped his shoulder

“Congratulations Mycanae” Tolya started dragging him away from the scene where the nobility were discussing the scene “Your a Squaller”

Hey so part two of the Zoyalai kid as promised. This was originally gonna be longer but then It became a 230 word monster and i cut it down and will save the rest for part three

35 likes and I’ll make part three

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alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #24: The Princesses and the Peas

(Inspired by a post on Tumblr and if I can ever find it again I will link it here.)

(Not proofread, beta’ed, or even read through a second time because this is massively late and if I don’t post within the next hour it will officially be next week everywhere in the United States and I will have failed in my mission. I’ll try to re-read and proofread and edit next week. Also this note is highly unprofessional, but I learned my relationship to my audience through fanfic, so this is how I roll.)

***

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, almost but not entirely like this one, of the queen who sought the perfect wife for her son, the crown prince.

The queen had ruled the land alone since the death of her husband. She was praised for her wisdom and her benevolence toward her people. But she was no longer young, and it was time to make sure her son made a politically beneficial marriage, to strengthen his position when it came time for him to take the crown. Many in the land whispered that the young man would make a terrible king, and wanted him to abdicate in favor of his younger sister, who was beautiful and bright and smiling. Celia, the young sister, could look anyone in the eye and make them believe that in that moment, they were the most important person in her world. Arien, the prince… could not do that.

The prince had a talent for mathematics, and it had expressed itself very young. Some said he should be the chancellor of the exchequer rather than the king. But Queen Leyta knew her son would make a compassionate and wise ruler as well as a prudent one. He also had a gift for seeing the humanity behind the numbers he calculated, of being able to think of the impact they would have on the people he would one day rule.

Once, when he was a child of six, his nursemaid lost him. Leyta found him behind the kitchens, picking through the garbage bins to find table scraps. She would have punished the kitchen staff for allowing such a thing, but Arien insisted that she should not. “It’s not their fault, Mother. I ordered them to let me, and I’m the prince, so they had to obey me. I told them that if you became angry at them I would tell you that they were only obeying my orders. They can’t get in trouble for obeying their liege.”

Leyta sighed. She could punish them for obeying their liege, when their liege was 6 and the thing he wanted to do was eat garbage, but she wouldn’t, because she knew why they obeyed. When the prince was thwarted, he would ask why. And if he received an answer, he would argue with it and present his position. Sometimes, this debate would lead to him accepting the necessity, and calmly going about his business, seeming to forget all about what he’d asked. More often, if he didn’t get an answer to “why”, or he didn’t like the answer and thought it didn’t make sense, and he was still thwarted, he would start to scream and hide under tables, or scream and run around and break things, or scream and slam his head into the wall, and he wouldn’t stop even when offered the thing he wanted. It was very, very hard to calm him once he started shrieking. So instead of punishing the kitchen staff, she asked Arien, “Why were you eating garbage?”

“Our food is bought with the taxes we take from the people,” he said seriously. “If we wasted less food, we wouldn’t have to tax the people as sorely as we do, and they would have more money to buy things for themselves.”

So she took him aside and told him that the scraps were fed to the dogs, who helped the palace huntsmen bring down game, or the goats and fowl, who gave the palace milk, meat and eggs, or they were tilled into the ground to make the fields around the palace more fruitful. They did not, in fact, go to waste; food that wasn’t wholesome for humans to eat could still feed animals, who would turn it back into wholesome food.

Then she had a lengthy discussion with him about tax policy, and listened gravely to his suggestions as to how they could ease the burdens on the people, and told him what the problems with his ideas were. And when some of his ideas didn’t have significant problems, she told him so, and discussed them with him, and even implemented a few as policy.

Arien also had a great love for bugs. He spent much of his days wandering the grounds, sketching every insect he saw, capturing some to study them and figure out what they ate. When Leyta learned of this, she found a learned scholar of insects, and hired him to be Arien’s tutor in the matter of insects, only. The man was at first openly resentful of being required to work with a small child, assuming that Arien would be a spoiled princeling with no real interest in learning, but when he discovered Arien’s love for the tiny creatures, he embraced the boy wholeheartedly and tutored him as well as he could.

The prince had few friends. He was open and innocent, happy to make friends with any child close to his own age, but the honest children who truly wanted a playmate were put off by Arien’s tendency to talk about bugs and math almost constantly. The children who put up with Arien’s chatter were, to Leyta’s eyes, obviously coached by ambitious mothers, pretending to friendship with the strange young prince to improve their position at court. She arranged for most of these children to be sent away – either their mothers dismissed, or the family sent to one of the crown’s holdings with some duty to perform or another. Arien was saddened by the disappearance of his playmates, since he didn’t realize they saw him as mere stepping stones to power. Celia knew, and would comfort her brother as well as she could… but she didn’t have a lot of patience for math, tax policy, and insects either.

As he grew up, Arien continued to display a strange mixture of wisdom and childishness. He would run around the palace grounds, playing with children far younger than he was, and they were not old enough to try to manipulate him, so Queen Leyta left them alone. He enjoyed riding his horse and taking care of it, and was often found at the stables, for he believed his horse needed to cared for in just the exact way he did it, and he didn’t trust the stablehands to follow his instructions exactly. He would spend hours discussing the politics of the land and the problems facing various groups of his subjects with Leyta and her own advisors, and then he would scream and throw himself on the floor at dinner because a chef had put visible onions in his soup, and he would need to be put to bed with his favorite blanket and a knitted doll of a dog that he’d had when he was four.

People said that the boy was touched in the head, that he was slightly mad, and also, that a future king who threw temper tantrums over onions was not to be trusted. But they weren’t, exactly, tantrums, as Leyta saw them. They didn’t stop when the problem was solved, they usually didn’t include demands – in fact, usually it was hard to get the prince to explain what was wrong, because he seemed to lose much of his ability to speak when these fits came on him. And she could see in his eyes that he was terrified and overwhelmed, not angry and demanding. Arien needed the world to work a certain way, and when it did not, it left him adrift, frightened and lost in a world that seemed to make no sense to him anymore.

Some of these ways that the world needed to work involved food, and the importance of not being able to see onions, for an onion large enough to see was large enough to crunch in his mouth in a way that apparently was so disgusting it would make him lose his ability to eat all day. There were similar rules regarding peppers, and certain cream dishes. Other ways the world needed to work regarded his mother’s advisors treating him like their future king, not in terms of obsequious deference but in terms of actually listening to his ideas and explaining things to him – even when he was merely eight. And then there was the care of animals – his own animals needed to be cared for in an exact way, and if he saw anyone being cruel to an animal, he might actually become violent to that person. The same was true of stronger people being cruel to weaker ones. When he was fourteen, he heard a maid crying, and asked a kitchen maid to find out for him what had happened. And then, when he learned that a nobleman under his roof had ill used her and cast her aside, he went to his mother and demanded the man be whipped for his crimes. The political explanations she gave for why that couldn’t be done fell on deaf ears; he was a cruel man and he’d harmed someone he had power over, and that was all Arien cared about. Leyta only managed to satisfy him by sending the man on a probably futile sea expedition to try to find a cheaper source of rice.

This was the boy that Queen Leyta had to find a proper bride for.

Her mother-in-law, the Dowager Queen, had ideas, but it had been many years since the Dowager Queen had actually held any power; she was one of Leyta’s advisors now, nothing more. So the idea would have to be one that Leyta agreed with, herself.

A ball to introduce eligible young women with powerful families to the prince? No. The prince didn’t handle crowds or parties well, or meeting a lot of new people in one evening.

A series of daytime salons, where a small group of eligible women would converse over luncheon with the prince? No. That was still too many people and the prince was self-conscious about people watching him eat.

Individual visits from each eligible young lady and her chaperones, to the palace, to meet with Arien, and also to be approved by Leyta? Yes! An excellent idea. Leyta had her secretary write up the invitations, to all the young women whose parents had written to her or the Dowager to express an interest.

In the palace was a suite of rooms that had been Leyta’s, once, when she’d lived in this palace to learn its ways before marrying the then-prince. She had that suite cleaned and prepared for the guests. Sleeping quarters to either side for the princess’s guards. Ladies-in-waiting to sleep in the antechamber outside the princess’s bedroom. And inside the princess’s bedroom, a bed heaped with several thick eiderdown duvets and pillows, incredibly soft, with sheets made from the finest linens.

And under the second eiderdown duvet, dried peas.

Queen Leyta tested the peas. When she sat on the bed, she couldn’t feel them. If she laid in the bed, she could barely tell they were there. But when she had Arien try it, he said, “You’re going to take them out before the guests come, right? The peas make the bed much too uncomfortable.”

“The peas,” Leyta said, “are to test whether a girl is right for you or not. It’s magic.”

Arien looked at her skeptically, unsure whether he believed in magic or not. “How are dried peas supposed to find me the right wife?”

“Magic,” Leyta said. “I can’t tell you exactly how it works. But it’s very important that you not tell them about the peas, or the magic won’t work.”

“Mother, I’m sixteen. I’m not a child. This whole story sounds ridiculous.”

“All right,” Leyta admitted. “It’s not magic, but I won’t be able to explain it to you until after it’s proven that it works, or doesn’t. But it is very important that you not tell any of your guests about it.”

Arien looked like he wanted to argue some more about it. Leyta said, “Trust me,” and he sighed, plainly remembering the number of times his mother had stood up for him or had come up with some scheme to help him.

“All right, Mother, but I’ll want that explanation afterwards.”

The Dowager Queen had her own theories. “You want to see if they can tell the peas are there?”

“To a certain extent,” Leyta said.

“You know that old wives’ tale about princesses being true and refined if they’re extremely sensitive is just a myth. I wasn’t a fragile flower who’d lose petals if you looked at her hard, and neither were you. And neither will Celia be.”

“I know that, Mother,” Leyta said – it was custom to address your mother-in-law as Mother, and Leyta’s own mother had died shortly after her wedding. The Dowager Queen had been the closest thing to a mother she’d had the entire time she was Queen. “I’m not testing for extreme skin sensitivity. Trust me.”

“It’d be hard for him to get an heir on a princess that fragile, don’t you think?” The Dowager chortled.

Leyta sighed. “No need to be crude about it. I have my reasons, and I’ll explain them to you, eventually. Let’s see if it works, first.”

***

The first princess was from the west. She had long straight hair and delicate-looking eyes with folded lids that left them shaped like almonds, rather than the eggs that the people of this realm wore in their face. She had pale creamy skin with a golden undertone, and she was demure and very polite, her etiquette perfect. She sat with Arien for hours, smiling at him with a face that expressed great interest, as he explained to her the complexities of life in a beehive.

In the morning, Leyta asked her, “How did you sleep?”

“Oh, wonderfully,” the princess said. “The bed was perfect! So soft! Your hospitality is wonderful.” She bowed her head.

Leyta saw her and her entourage off. When she returned, she asked Arien, “What did you think of her?”

“She was nice,” Arien said. “She listened to me. I’ve only had a few friends who listened to me, and they all moved away.”

Privately, without Arien present, the Dowager asked, “So what’s your verdict?”

“Unless none of them pass the test, she’s a no.”

***

The second princess was from the land immediately to the north. Her skin was tree- brown but as smooth as a tranquil lake, her hair floating around her head in a soft, curly cloud. Arien talked to her about beetles. She made excuses of not feeling well about half an hour into the beetle discussion.

When Leyta asked her how she slept, she said, “Your rooms are very nice. And the food last night was excellent, I’m so sorry I had to cut the evening short. But I feel fully rejuvenated today.”

Arien said, “She seemed okay, but she kept looking around while I was talking to her, so much that I think she gave herself motion sickness. I think that’s why she got sick.”

Leyta said to the Dowager, “A definite no.”

***

The third princess was from the far south. She had beautiful straight golden hair, cut short and asymmetrically, where it was shorter in the back than front and where it was parted on one side rather than in the middle.

She complained about her soup being cold. She complained about her roast beef being too bloody. She complained that the dessert course had small portions and also that it was too sweet. She screamed at servants for not bringing her wet towels for wiping her hands quickly enough and for refilling her wine glass too quickly. She insisted on talking to the seneschal about the servants who had served her, demanding that they be banished from the castle for incompetence. When Arien tried to talk to her, her demeanor was sweet, but every time he tried to talk to her about something he liked, she insisted that he show her another part of the castle. She made plans for room redecoration as if she had already become Arien’s queen.

In the morning, she was sickly sweet with Leyta, saying it was only a minor thing, really, but surely more competent servants could be found to make the bed? It was extremely lumpy. Leyta found out that she’d woken the chambermaids at 1 in the morning to demand an additional five featherbeds piled on top of hers.

Arien didn’t look at his mother. “Um… I don’t want to be impolite, but… I didn’t like her very much.”

The Dowager Queen said, “Please don’t tell me you’re considering that young harridan just because she could tell there were peas in the bed.”

“Oh, no. Not even for a moment,” said Leyta, and drew her quill through the name “Princess Carinna” on the list.

***

The fourth princess was actually the daughter of a powerful merchant, not an actual princess at all. She had deeply tanned skin and thick black hair, and beautiful dark eyes. She and Arien talked for hours about tax policy and accounting techniques, and she seemed genuinely interested.

She said the bed had been wonderful, and there was nothing wrong with it. Arien liked her. But Queen Leyta marked her as a provisional choice, the first on the list if no one passed her test.

***

And so it went with princess after princess. Most of them showed at least some slight sign of impatience when Arien monopolized the conversation, but none of them admitted to it, and few even tried to change the topic. No others were as rude as Carinna. No others admitted to detecting the peas, either. Leyta was on the verge of contacting the merchant to make an offer for his daughter to wed Arien. And then Princess Inaya arrived.

Princess Inaya was from further north than the second princess had been, her skin darker and her hair in braids that lay directly against her head, with ribbons and beads woven into them at the bottom. She didn’t look Leyta in the eye – or anyone else, really, keeping her head bowed demurely. She picked at her food, more or less eating only the potatoes, and she barely spoke… until she met with Arien.

He offered, diffidently, to show her the garden, and she accepted. He started to point out interesting bugs that he saw in the garden… and she began to point out interesting rocks. They soon began an animated conversation that sounded to Leyta more like two separate threads, where Arien would say a sentence or two about insects, then yield to Inaya, who would say a sentence or two about rocks. Sometimes they had a genuine back-and-forth when they talked about the habitats of pillbugs, who lived under rocks, or other areas where rocks and insects somehow intersected. Arien showed Inaya the notebook where he drew bugs and made his observations, and Inaya seemed to be thrilled with his artistic skill. She showed him her own notebook, with no art at all, where she wrote down the properties of rocks she had discovered and outlined the tests she did on stones to see what they were made of. Arien was fascinated with the efforts she’d gone to and how thoroughly she’d documented her findings; he’d never thought of doing anything to research the insects aside from looking them up in his tutor’s books.

At no point did she ever look Arien in the eye. At no point did he seem to care. He relaxed enough with Inaya to flap his hands when he grew excited; Inaya had a chain of polished stones that, instead of wearing around her neck, she tossed in the air as she paced.

In the morning, when Leyta asked Inaya how she slept, she squirmed.

“I, um. The bed was mostly very nice. Very good linens, nice soft down. But, uh. It felt like maybe there were… tiny pebbles in there somewhere? I’m not sure, I didn’t want to be rude and strip down the bed to look, but, uh. It was kind of uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Leyta said.

She made arrangements to ask Arien his opinion before Inaya’s entourage left, this time. He spoke very simply. “I love her. Pick her, she’s the one.”

“I thought you would say that,” Leyta said, and she finished drafting the offer to Inaya’s parents, and signed it. “Take this to her lady-in-waiting before they leave, to give to Inaya’s parents.”

“I can’t!” Arien said, looking all around. “I can’t be the one to do it because I have to give her a parting gift if I see her and I don’t have any nice rocks!”

So Leyta gave him a bracelet with a large inset opal, and smaller jades all around it. “Take this to her and tell her which kinds of stones are in it, and tell her she can wear it as a bracelet if she wants, or take it apart for the stones, whichever she prefers.”

Later she heard that Inaya collapsed on the ground crying when he made the offer, but that her lady-in-waiting reassured Arien that this wasn’t abnormal – that she did this whenever her emotions were too strong to control, even if they were happy emotions. Inaya confirmed that she was crying from relief and joy, because she had always thought that no man would ever want to marry her and if one did, he would hate her rocks and want her to do normal womanly things like embroidery or something, which she wasn’t good at in the slightest because her coordination was bad and she was always poking the needle into the wrong place, and she had never imagined that she would ever find a man who understood her and didn’t demand that she look in his eyes and liked to listen to her talk about what she loved. Then Arien asked her very gravely if she liked hugs, because most of the time he didn’t like hugs, especially when they were a surprise, but if she would like a hug he really wanted to give her one. They hugged, and declared mutual love (“as far as I can define the feeling of love, anyway,” Inaya said, “because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, so how can I know for sure that that’s what this is?” Arien had agreed with her, but said “I think that even if what we’re feeling isn’t the same kind of thing as other people feel when they’re in love, it’s close enough that we can use the same word, because who wants to have to make up a new word?” And then they spent several minutes amusing each other to the point of hysterical laughter in making up new words that sounded ridiculous, sometimes repeating them to each other ten or a dozen times.) When Inaya finally had to leave, Arien cried.

Leyta wasn’t there for any of that, but her spies were everywhere in the castle.

***

When the Dowager demanded that she explain her test, Leyta summoned Arien, who had washed his face so it looked more as if he had had a terrible runny nose and sneezes than that he’d been crying.

“You asked me about what it would prove, to put peas in the bed,” Leyta said, “and I was looking for two things, but one was more important than the other.”

“What were you looking for?” Arien asked.

“Arien… you know that you’re a special young man, and different in some ways than other people your age. I’ve consulted with many scholars. Children like you are often strangely sensitive to things that other people don’t notice… often to the point where it’s unpleasant. Such as your feelings about onions.”

He shuddered. “Please do not remind me of the existence of those devil vegetables.”

Leyta laughed. The Dowager scowled. Leyta knew she preferred that a king, or a crown prince who’d just been betrothed, have a serious demeanor. She also knew that Arien would be who he was, no matter what anyone asked him to be.

“So I thought, the peas might be noticeable to some of the girls, but they would be especially notable to a girl who was like Arien. More importantly, if a girl noticed it but claimed she didn’t… Arien, I know you are often taken off guard by lies, and you’re a very honest man yourself. I know you would prefer a wife who will tell you when something makes her unhappy, rather than her trying to guess how you feel about it and then telling you what she thinks you want to hear.”

Arien nodded. “Nobody can see inside someone else’s mind, so why would anyone even do that?”

“I wanted a girl who would be honest about something she found unpleasant, even if she had to offend her host to admit it. But, obviously, kindness and compassion and a lack of malice about it were necessary as well… we don’t want a Carinna anywhere near the rulership of the kingdom.”

“You can say that again,” Arien said. Leyta suspected he was setting her up so she could tell a joke.

“But I won’t, because I know you heard it the first time,” she said, smiling.

The Dowager frowned. “So you picked a girl who has the same kinds of problems as Arien? Was that wise? The kingdom may need rulers who understand the idea of telling lies when they must, who can be charming and adept with politics. I thought you’d pick a girl who would cover Arien’s weaknesses, not one with the same issues.”

“Your son understood me,” Leyta said simply. “It was an arranged marriage, but we quickly grew to love each other, because we respected and we understood each other. I don’t want the kingdom to have a queen who resents her husband because she thinks he’s strange… who may play politics behind the scenes to have him killed so she can take power. Or who takes lovers, so we don’t know if the royal blood is even in the heirs. It’s more important to me that Arien’s wife respects him and understands him, and that he understands and respects her, than to have rulers who can detect all the subterranean undercurrents of a conversation. That’s what spymasters are for… and Dowager mothers and grandmothers, and perhaps even younger sisters.”

“Mother,” Arien said, “thank you. I know the people think I’m strange, and maybe I am, but you’ve always watched out for me. I didn’t even know I needed to find a wife who wouldn’t lie to protect my feelings until you pointed it out, and now it’s obvious.” He looked at the Dowager. “And Grandmother, Inaya does complement me. I understand mathematics, and finance, and things like that. She was trained by her parents to understand logistics, so she could run the castle, but she went deeper with it; she understands things about what kind of weather will do things to the crops and what will happen to the farmers when that occurs, things I never even thought about asking. Together I think she and I can make our country one of the most prosperous and happy nations in the world.”

***

And so it came to be. Prince Arien and Princess Inaya were wed in a lovely ceremony that they immediately fled to go on their honeymoon as soon as the marriage vows were taken. They understood the economics of the nation, and other nations, as few kings and queens ever did, and when they needed someone to tell them that someone else was lying, they had the Dowager Leyta and Princess Celia. The country prospered as it never had before, with no beggars on the streets of the cities, because the King and Queen gave homes to those who had none, and living expenses to those too sick or weak or lacking in some ability so that they couldn’t work.

It would be a lie to say they lived happily ever after, because no human can be happy all the time, and they had arguments and problems in their relationship from time to time. But even Arien the Honest and his Queen would agree that we can say they lived mostly happily for the rest of their lives.

#52 project #i'm late! i'm late!#fairy tales #autism #altered tales #the writer is autistic

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scandeniall · 3 years

Text

story of us

pairing: suna x reader

the story of ur relationship <3; alternatively (more) dating sunarin headcanons but this time is somewhat of an order and talks good and bad 2K+ worth lol

a/n: i had more planned but half of these have been sitting in my notes for months and its kinda fucking long already bc he lives rent free!!!

warnings: uh the usual aged up (in ur 20s time skip type beat), language, yeah

Meeting

Now when y’all met suna was not looking to love at all. That man was just living his life and so where you. The two of you pretty much meet through komori. You’re a friend and it’s his birthday so him and a few of his friends go out for drinks bc why not. Young hot pretty financially stable v-ball players. Nah no ones there for any type of hookups literally just there celebrating a great guy.

They rent out a section at a relatively nice bar tbh. Not the cheapest and you can actually hear conversation. But also not a super expensive one where the patrons are middle aged with jazz music and the occasional track to relive “youth.” Komori’s a sweetie and will come outside to get you when you text that you’re there. You’ve met washio and ofc sakusa Before so you greet them casually then you turn and there’s Suna and a few others you haven’t met.

That greeting isn’t anything special I promise. Just “hey I’m so and so” and vice versa. It’s one of those meetings where you just think “he’s cute” but it’s such a fleeting thought. Y’all don’t even really talk that first night tbh. At the next practice Suna mentions offhandedly that he didn’t know komori was dating someone and komori is like: huh? Yeah sorry. I love (Y/N) and all but were just friends. Suna just shrugs not really caring to be honest until Komori just asks what did he think of you.

“Don’t really remember much man. Seemed cool though” he didn’t think he’d really see you again. Yeah you were close enough to have been at Komori’s birthday but if that was his first time ever meeting you, he figured you weren’t from around there are present very much. Yeah he was wrong.

Suddenly you were on Komori’s snap story more often, or maybe he’d just been noticing more. Too bad he couldn’t even remember your name 💀. Then it turned into you occasionally popping up where he was. He’d been told your name at least 5 times already but wouldn’t remember it the next day. Whenever he’d see you again he’d get a strained look like: “what is this mf name again” just laugh and tell him again bby.

That changed at some random house party by another mutual friend you two apparently had? You two were the only people just around the fire pit trying to catch some warmth in the chilly night. He’s probably just on his phone head bobbing his head to the muffled music from inside. And you’re just like “remember my name yet?” All jokingly. This sparks the tiniest bit of interest in him and he lets out a low chuckle and just admits “not at all.” I also feel like this is the first time he really looks at you and he’s like 🤨, wait you’re actually kinda cute.

That night y’all just kinda talk and vibe. The conversation comes easy as you two jump back and forth from talking about the music playing to sneakers which he brings up to stuff that you like. He’s actually really easy to talk to. So easy that u can forget about him not remembering your name despite meeting several times. You mention that you’d hung around komori before while they were gaming and that he seemed pretty cool. That leads him to asking “how do you know him anyways?”

“I used to date Sakusa”

Mentally he’s just like— ‘yeah I’m not getting involved in this. Time to go.’ Until you just start laughing.

“I’m kidding. He’s not really my type. We met after being paired together for a project in school.”

The two of you spend quite a bit of time just talking that night until you are joined again by some friends and it’s deadass like y’all weren’t just talking for almost an hour straight.

Getting Together

The process of getting together is like a cat and mouse game. You two start getting closer than friends and then something happens and you’re not talking for weeks. Whether it be life just getting busy, and then someone ending up on some random tinder date or so be it. Definitely one of those things were somehow someway y’all end up just hanging on one of your couches watching a movie. At some point there’s definitely a hint of sexual tension but neither of y’all act on it (later on you find on his finsta that he used to post several “i wont you 😔” memes Folks can’t tell if hes joking or not (hes not))

You probably gotta tell that man you like him so if that ain’t you I’m sorry. Y’all not dating 😹. It’s something casual, y’all going to pick up some snacks for a movie night and why this mf keep looking at you out the side of his eyes instead of the road. You def texting the groupchat asking if you should confess. They tell you to boss up and just do it baby.

You literally end up confessing in that parking lot. Like right when he shuts the car off and starts swinging his keys on his finger and you kinda just blurt “I like you. Like like you.” He just kinda nods before his eyes widen. “Wait are you fr?” Like no you’re joking tf. It gets a lil awkward so you just go to get out the car and he’s like “I like like you too.”

I definitely don’t think either of you ever officially asked the other out it’s just at some point the understanding that you two are a couple. Like when you’re hanging out just you two hes more touchy, and then y’all start kissing and holding hands at some point. Then when you’re with friends he almost exclusively sits next to you and your friends notice the whispers in one another’s ears at the loud bar that seem just a hint too intimate for ppl who are just friends. Then y’all start arriving and leaving places together and people just at some point get the message (it’s later confirmed by you tweeting some shit like: I hate Rin why is that mf my boyfriend)

As far as anniversaries y’all draw straws to pick a day in the ballpark of the time y’all both think you became official. That’s the day you stick with even if it’s not true.

Relationship Flaws

A fault in the relationship is sunas kinda poor communication when it comes to things that matter. How he feels. Arguments. Love sure as hell don’t come east with anyone but when your partner won’t let you in? Yeah that’s like hell. That’s something you struggle with. And then on your end, it’s the impatience with him not letting you in. You try to wrongfully rush it.

There’s definitely been arguments that stem from him just being upset about something unrelated to the relationship then coming to you for comfort without actually telling you what’s wrong. He kinda just wants to lay with his head on his chest but at some point that’s not enough. Y’all are in a relationship and should be able to talk about your bad days too.

You’re not innocent in this issue either because sometimes it comes off too pushy. Yes it’s from a place of care but sometimes that silent comfort is necessary. The walls will break in due time and y’all both know that deep in the back of your minds But then there’s a part that’s like— yeah we can’t let this become the norm

“Rin, can you please talk to me”

He will have literally told you “whatever” and that he “can’t deal with this rn” several times as he just shrugs and is like yeah “I’m gonna just go home. I’ll text you later” with an awkward ass pat on your shoulder if it really ruined his mood. If he’s leaving before he gets super upset and uncomfortable just some half assed kiss in your cheek

Another thing is I feel like he could be passive aggressive and let’s be real other folks doing it causes you to do it to. Y’all probably drag eachother on your finstas where you can both see it lol

But when it comes to making up he cracks first and apologizes when he started it. Or as y’all get more comfy with communication. If it’s not anything major he’ll just hit you with a text like “I’m bored come hang”

More Relationship Things

I feel like he love/hates driving. Likes the ride not always driving though. So if you ever proposed a late night drive he’d be down (if you offer to drive). He does let y’all take his car though. He reclines the seat pretty far back. Alternates between just closing his eyes vibing w/ the music or kinda just looking at you (he the type of bf that makes u nervous no matter how long y’all been together)The way he looks at you makes you nervous cause that man is fine as hell and you can just feel his eyes on you.

He films you on Snapchat and sends the video to you like “you look hot”

If he’s not ‘resting his eyes’ he’s mumbling along to the music because he has the aux. if y’all music tastes are different he occasionally throws in something you really like bc he likes how you perk up at one of your fav songs

Moving on. Y’all dap eachother up after s3x because it’s “modern romance” (boy stfu). You two came up with a sex playlist together and it’s on both of your phones. Sometimes one of you will add a troll song that the other doesn’t know and put it in the lineup. (Stole my heart by 1D has definitely played before and you were practically in tears laughing at his reaction. That was one of those songs he was like ‘yeah alright i think we’re done).

At some point you two develop your own handshake and it’s cute. Whenever either of you have to travel without the other that’s always the last thing you do before you leave eachother. There’s vids of your friends daring y’all to do your elaborate ass handshake drunk and doesn’t matter what’s in your system, you both know it like the back of your hand.

I think he values quality time a lot so there’s so many nights where you’re both just chilling in his room just doing your own things. He could just be at his desk watching some game highlights and you’re just doing hw on his bed with your own earbuds in work all spread out and he’s content. He’s also attentive so if he calculates that you’ve been working too long he’ll just take ur earbud like “hey let’s go get something to eat.”

People definitely think he’s the lazy one in the relationship but it’s 100% not true. Like stated above, he’s very attentive and can pretty much gauge how you’re feeling in the blink of an eye. He knows when you need alone time but won’t go without reassuring you that he’s here whenever you’re ready. When you do just need him he’s there without a second thought. If you’re more touchy he’ll have your head in his lap his arm running up and down your as you tell him what’s wrong. He knows when to joke about a minor inconvenience and over the course of your relationship knows when to cut the jokes and be serious with you.

He’d never admit it but he knows your coffee order by heart (he keeps up his image my asking wtf do you get everytime. Just let him LOL). He the type to peek at what you plan on wearing and ‘accidentally’ color coordinate then pull some shit like “why are you copying me”

Y’all def shit talk together. See someone doing something completely out of pocket in public— straight to ur phones you go (pack it up shade room). To the public it just looks like you aren’t paying any attention to one another on your dates but y’all are. Just over the phone so u don’t piss off ur target 😌

Y’all are very comfy in your relationship that you just say stuff. Y’all don’t even think.

“Rin, what if i crashed us in this car rn 😹”

“Do it. Might be fun”

When you two finally move in together it’s almost like how your relationship starts. Slowly more and more spares of stuff for you end up at his. He does sorta make the move near the end of your lease and is just like “you’re here more than me anyways.” (hes nervous but swears he’s not. Bby you’re literally shaking). Him moving you in is like hell. This mf takes sooooo long to help with boxes. Picks up 1 then sits for like 15 minutes. You ask for help the first few times and he’s just like “I got you” while continuing to scroll his phone.

Sleepy Shoulder kisses in the mornings. Only form a greeting you get but it’s ok

this is like my 100th dating suna hc and im still going this is SICK. it was so hard to not drop old refs bc i still believe in them 100% yes i do!!!!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu imagine #suna imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu headcanons

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dcforts · 3 years

Text

[week 4: selfie together]

1.7k, post-canon, non canon compliant.

Three days to impact (moving out with Cas and a bunch of hunter nerds settling into the bunker to set up the Network), and Dean was still elbow deep in messy drawers, sorting through his stuff in one of the research rooms. He couldn’t believe he had managed to hoard that much crap when he spent there not more than six months every year.

Sam had already taken care of most of it and thrown away a lot of junk when he had moved away with Eileen a year or so ago, so Dean had thought that he would be packed in less than a day with what was left. He was wrong.

He was tackling a bunch of phones and chargers all tangled up together, trying to figure out which ones were still working. Between him and Sam they had probably gone through a hundred or so phones, without counting the burners, their dad’s and those of other hunters, passed on after their deaths.

You had to keep them on, check the messages, write down the contacts – for a long time it was the only way to keep the network going and to make sure that no call for help would ever go unanswered.

Hopefully the Network, with Charlie fancy digital system and stolen tech from the Brits, would make things a lot easier. The bunker would become the hunter HQ that it was always meant to be. And Sam and Dean would still go there from time to time, but it would become more like a workplace than an actual home.

Magazines apparently said you had to keep them separated and all that. So, they were trying.

He wasn’t even halfway done when he found his old phone. It was not too ancient or anything and he used to like it just fine, but for Christmas Claire and the girls had gotten him a new one (“not for work!!” said the note attached to it) so he had just dumped it in here.

It had no SIM card, but there were some police contacts (useful) and the Candy Crush app (not useful). He went on to check the gallery and was surprised to find still some pictures in it.

He snorted, seeing one of the last taken – Sam, drunk on Christmas Day, a paper crown askew on his head, trying to focus enough to play Jenga with someone who was out of the shot. Dean didn’t remember who it was anymore. Sam had the most incredible face on.

Oh, there were pictures from when they went to visit Garth! He had taken them at Frontier Stables in Frederic and Dean and Gertie had possibly been equally excited about riding a horse. There were a bunch of pictures of that day, including one Garth had taken of him where he looked like an absolute dork.

Wow, they must have been at least a year or so older, he had totally forgotten about them. Now, he couldn’t just put the phone down and resume his work. He debated with himself (very briefly) if he could afford a break or not and then flopped down on the floor covered in cardboard boxes to look through the rest of the gallery.

Most of the pictures were cases related, articles and crime scenes, then a bunch of landscapes, an amazing looking burger from that joint in Texas.

There was one with Cas that he had taken one night. Dean’s face was on the foreground, on the left, and he was making a funny face, his index finger to his lips. The red couch was visible behind his shoulders and Cas was by his side, his face turned towards the television screen and lighted by it.

They had been cooped up in Dean’s cave for nearly four hours and all that time Sam was freaking out because he didn’t know where they were and he couldn’t find them. When Dean had checked his phone, he had found fourteen missed calls and a bunch of texts. He had sent him that picture back and written shh it's movie night.

Sam had come bursting through the door two seconds later and bitched at him for fifteen minutes for having his phone on silent and then stayed and watched Back to the Future III with them.

This was before he and Cas even got together – well, officially at least.

It felt like so long ago, back when they were all: fingers brushing, intense gazing, losing track of time when alone together. They were so clueless.

It had sorted itself out though. A couple of weeks after that, Dean had fallen asleep on Cas’ shoulder and Cas had spent the rest of the night holding him and he had done that every night since.

Dean smiled and scrolled down, back in time.

More photos on the road, book pages, his car against a pretty sunset. Then a group selfie that they sent to Jody for her birthday. Sam and Eileen were still living at the bunker then and Sam was holding the phone, on account of having three feet long arms. They were standing in the kitchen, Eileen right next to him, under his other arm and Dean next to Eileen.

Cas had appeared on the door as they were getting in position so Sam he had told him to hurry up, get in the frame and he had come to stand next to Dean, stiff like a statue. Sam had said, a little closer, so Dean had slung an arm around his neck and pulled him towards him.

Right when Sam had been about to snap it, Cas had grabbed Dean’s hand, that was dangling over his shoulder. So of course, in the picture Dean looked like a total idiot, with his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted in surprise. He had even stopped breathing a little and Cas next to him had the audacity to look totally oblivious. Dean zoomed in on his face and cackled at himself. God, and what was up with that haircut he had, did he even look at himself in the mirror.

He went on.

A few rows below there was another selfie. It was just him this time and it was terrible, the sunlight making the picture look all wrong, like there was a filter on it. It was a vertical shot that showed just about his face and shoulders.

It had been early in the morning, he was bleary-eyed and there was a little wrinkle in between his eyebrows because he had been in the car waiting for Sam to come back with their coffee for twenty minutes.

Cas had texted him out of the blue, Can you send me a picture of you? and Dean had snapped it and sent it without thinking and then he had written, what do you need it for and Cas had written back, I just miss you. Dean had almost dropped his phone, then put it away and not looked at it until late that night. Yeah, it hadn’t been one of his best moments.

Finally he had managed to pull out the conversation again. He had typed and deleted miss you too and same and same, man about a thousand times and then ended up writing your turn now.

He remembered that Cas had been quick to reply with an even worse shot than the one he had sent. Some blurry picture he had taken under a streetlight, his face wearing an intense expression, as if he needed to focus to tap once on a screen. Still, Dean had looked at it for an hour before he had gone to sleep. What a sap.

Thinking of that photo reminded him of another one. He wondered if? It took a while to find it, but it was there, almost at the end of the gallery, right after a picture of Jody in a ridiculous sun hat from when they all went to the beach for the weekend.

It was there. Their first selfie together. He snorted out loud.

He had been pacing in the map room, cursing at his phone that was stuck with the camera open. He was trying everything and it just wouldn’t close.

Cas had come look over his shoulder while Dean had been furiously tapping, and that was when the screen had frozen and flashed and the result of that was a picture of the two of them from the most unflattering angle, frowning down at the phone. Two half faces, Dean on the right, Cas on the left. Dean thought it was hilarious.

Cas had said, “I think you took a picture,” because he was a great help as usual and Dean had said, “Yeah, no shit Cas,” and eventually had to restart the phone to make it work again.

He couldn’t believe that had happened more than two years ago.

“I’m done with the inventory of the herbs. Are you done in here?” said Cas, poking his head in from the hallway. Dean very obviously wasn’t done, but he was still smiling, so Cas said, “What is it?” and came to crouch beside him to peer at his phone and the infamous selfie, “Why did we take this?”

Dean laughed, “We didn’t. My phone was acting up.”

"And you kept it?"

"Yeah, of course I kept it," Dean said, tilting his phone away, as if Cas would jump him to delete it.

Cas had other priorities. He kissed his temple.

"Okay," he said amused, then, "Do you need help? Charlie is coming over in an hour to set up the - cables."

There were no cables. Cas clearly didn’t know what he was talking about, but Dean had no idea of what Charlie was supposed to do either, so.

"No, just - wait, let's take a picture," he said, grabbing his sleeve before he could get up. Cas settled once again next to him and Dean opened the camera and held his phone up, then got his other arm around Cas’ shoulders.

The light was not great, like anywhere else in the bunker and they looked exhausted after a day's work but still, not a bad sight, if Dean could say so himself.

He focused on Cas on the screen, the little smile on his lips.

He grinned. He was gonna spend the rest of his life with that face, he thought. Jesus.

"Dean?" Cas called, after another moment of nothing.

"Alright, alright," he said and snapped the picture.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

#deancassummerprompts21 #deancas #deancas ficlet #fwf #as in finale? what finale?#i couldnt decide on what idea to focus on so i kept them all #incredibly on time for once #i just didn't want to edit it too much cause i like it????#yeah i know weird #it was fun #my writing

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queenof-literature · 3 years

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Goron

Hi all! This is the forth story in my Wild’s Story Hour series, which was originally requests that were sent in, and soon turned into its own series! I’ve been writing this on and off for a few months now, so I’m so happy to post it.

A little note: My Tumblr has been very wonky lately. I’m not sure about y’all, but every time I search for recent in the Linked Universe tag I get spammed with completely random tags not even related to the point where I can’t even see LU content. This is the only tag that’s like this for me. So please know that I’m not ignoring anyone, it’s just been quite laggy and slow for me to get notifications as well.

AO3 Link

Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy!

"Thanks for dinner Wild!" Hyrule exclaimed before digging in. Wild heard similar sentiments as he passed out mushroom and veggie rice balls, with some fruit crepes on the side. An odd combination, but that’s apparently what happened when you traveled with a group of eight others. In Twilight’s Hyrule they had found a relatively safe and secluded place for the evening before the sun had begun to set, so Wild took the extra time to put more effort into dinner. The others used to tell him that he didn't need to put so much effort into dinner, they were fine with rations and quick meals over a fire. However after they learned that cooking was what Wild would consider a passion, they allowed themselves to be fed without complaint. If Wild enjoyed it, who were they to stop him. The delicious food was certainly a bonus.

After thanking Wild the group settled around the fire, relaxing into the evening lull Wild had begun to find comforting long ago. He was never expected to talk, he could just sit in peace and listen. And if he chose to talk, which was becoming more frequent as time went on, the others always listened.

But after the… incident when Wild sang Kass' song, no one had asked him to tell anymore stories. After the first night of 'Wild's Story Hour' as Hyrule called it, Wind would often jump on his back and ask questions about his Hyrule. If Wind was anything, he was curious. That trait seemed to be amped up since Wild's Hyrule also had Rito and Koroks. Now though, Wind bit his tongue and kept quiet.

Wild didn't want to admit that he missed it.

He never thought he would miss talking, especially telling an entire story over a campfire. Talking used to feel like giving pieces of himself away, and if he gave too much he would be empty. Now he felt relieved every time he talked about his adventure. Wild loved seeing his brothers’ reactions to his tales, and the more he talked the more weight was lifted off him. That must have been what Warriors was talking about when he said that sometimes it helped to talk to others.

Wild missed it, but he didn't want to bring it up. It was embarrassing, and he didn't want the others to feel forced to listen to him. He was trying to get rid of that mentality but it was hard.

Wind felt guilty too, Wild could tell. Wild wasn't sure the little pirate had ever seen Wild so far gone in panic and anger. He hated that any of them saw him like that, let alone Wind. It wasn't the little pirate's fault, he didn't know that bringing it up would cause Wild's panic, not even Wild himself knew. It hadn't affected their friendship, but Wild didn't want Wind to feel uncomfortable around him at all.

Before he could cucco out, Wild signed for Wind to sit with him when he could. Wind smiled and nodded, quickly finishing his conversation with Four before making his way over.

"Yes, Wild?" Wind asked eagerly, but Wild could still see the apprehension under the surface.

"Are you okay?" Wild asked, skipping the small talk he wasn't good at.

"Of course! Why?" Wild resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Getting Wind, or any of the Links, to admit something was wrong was like pulling teeth. Although, Wild guessed he didn't have much room to talk…

"You've seemed upset lately. Did I do something?" Wild once again got straight to the point. If Wild did anything to upset the younger, he wanted to fix it. And he wanted to fix it now.

"What? Of course not, Wild! I'm sorry I made you think that. It's just… I feel bad I guess.” Wind sighed out, his shoulders slumping out of his fake eagerness. Wild winced slightly, knowing what Wind was talking about. Wild had one of his… attacks, in front of everyone. It started innocently enough, with Wind being curious about a song. It ended with Wild yelling and sobbing about his failures a century ago.

“That wasn’t your fault.” Wild stated firmly. “You didn’t know what was going to happen. No one did, not even me.” Wild trailed off slightly at the last part. Wind’s face had perked up slightly, but he didn’t look completely convinced.

“Wind.” Wild said gently, getting the younger’s attention. “I wouldn’t have sung if I didn’t want to.” Wild paused before admitting the next part, slightly embarrassed. “I like talking about my adventure. It feels nice.” Wild felt his ears turn red, but Wind didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked happier than he had in days.

“So… everything is okay? Do you forgive me?” Wind asked hopefully.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Wild reassured. “Of course everything is okay.”

“Can I…” Wind trailed off from his question, but Wild knew what was going to be asked, and he simply nodded and smirked, opening his arms slightly. Wild caught a flash of Wind’s face, a large beaming grim, before a body launched into his arms from across the log, squeezing the life out of him. Wild squeezed just as hard back, thankful that the matter was behind them. Wild could feel eyes on them, and turned to meet the mirthful gazes of his companions. Wild simply glared at them, warning them not to say anything. This was between him and Wind. But the other Links were simply thankful everything was all right.

“Hey Wild?” Wind’s muffled voice rose from Wild’s chest.

“Hm?” Wild hummed, biting back a smile.

“Do you ever wanna tell another story for us? It’s okay if you say no.” Wind asked into Wild’s tunic. Wind used to bite back on his hugs and physical touches, afraid it would be seen as childish. But after it became more common around camp, and after the other Links understood that Wind simply came from a home where hugs were a common display of affection, Wind didn't feel the need to hide it anymore.

“Yeah, anytime.” Wild smiled.

“Now?” Wind questioned hesitantly.

“Sure.” Wild confirmed, searching through good memories of his adventure. Like an arrow, Wind launched off Wild’s chest, and Wild shoved down his disappointment at the loss of warmth.

“Guys! Shush!” Wind yelled, a hush falling over the camp besides a few grumbles about being interrupted. “Wild’s gonna tell a story!” He shouted in excitement, ignoring Wild’s shocked face. By now, Wind really meant right now.

“Did you inform Wild of this?” Legend asked, smirking at Wild’s shocked face.

“Of course! I asked him!” Wind scolded, turning back around and sitting on his and Wild’s shared log, ignoring Legend rolling his eyes. Wild saw Twilight shoot a look over the fire, silently asking if this was truly alright. Wild gave him a reassuring look and a nod. The camp was once again quiet as they all looked to Wild in interest.

“Uhh. What should I talk about?” Wild questioned awkwardly. It was always so awkward at the start.

“You always ask that, talk about whatever you want.” Legend crossed his arms, and lowered himself to the ground, back against the log.

“There’s two divine beasts left. You can talk about one of those?” Hyrule spoke up beside Legend.

“Okay, Gorons?” Wild suggested. The Gorons were a fun people to be around, and if Wild was honest, he wasn’t ready to touch on the subject on the Zora quite yet. That was too close to Mipha. Mipha wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was a topic he was still sore about.

“Gorons sound fun. Don’t we all have Gorons in our Hyrule?” Four questioned, receiving nods and noises of confirmation.

“Didn’t Twilight wrestle them?” Sky questioned, receiving blank looks from the others.

“I’m sorry Twilight what?” Warriors’ shocked expression almost sent Wild into a fit of laughter. He couldn’t blame the man though, Wild was just as surprised when Twilight told him about his adventure with the Gorons.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Wind’s cried in betrayal.

“Uhh, I needed my iron boots to do it.” Twilight tried to soothe the outbreak of awe.

“That doesn’t matter with Gorons. Those make you heavier, even someone with above-average strength couldn’t beat a Goron with iron boots.” Four smirked from beside Sky, who was watching the chaos he caused unfold.

“I told y’all I learned how to wrestle in my village!” Twilight shouted with no heat.

“You didn’t tell us you wrestled a Goron!” Wind yelled back.

“He also burned a building down.” Time spoke up, biting back a smile at Twilight’s betrayed expression.

“I told you that in confidence!” Twilight yelled.

“Wait and you give me shit for lighting things on fire?” Wild cried out. Now this was the first he had heard of that.

“You do it for fun!” Twilight tried to defend himself through the uproarious laughter.

“Why did you do it then?” Wild questioned.

“That’s not important!” Twilight huffed.

“Maybe we should call you Wild.” Legend joked.

“Hey don’t you dare-” Twilight began before being interrupted by Four.

“As entertaining as this is, I think Wild was going to tell a story.” He reminded.

“Yeah! Wild talk about the Gorons!” Wind ceased glaring at Twilight in favor of looking at Wild.

“Okay, okay.” Wild said after he was done laughing. “Well you guys know my Death Mountain is really hot with all the lava.”

“Understatement.” Warriors mumbled.

“So I had to pick up some elixirs from Foothill stables and drink them on the way up." Wild started, relaxing into his story as he went.

“Don’t your elixirs only last a couple of hours?” Hyrule titled his head.

“Yeah, why?” Wild questioned.

“That looks like a long and rocky road. What, did you just run through the whole domain?” Hyrule joked, pausing when he saw Wild bite his lip. “Wild!” Hyrule yelled in realization.

"What? I didn't have any other choice! I had plenty of elixirs!" Wild defended.

“What if you ran out?” Four chided with a snort.

“Then I’d teleport away.” Wild shot back.

“Don’t extreme temperatures affect your slate sometimes?” Warriors smirked.

“I… would deal with that when I got there.” Wild huffed at the laughter that came from the others.

“Yeah a lot of your plans involve that.” Legend mumbled.

“Anyway.” Wild interrupted before the conversation could lead to discussing his battle tactics. “I kept running up the path and there were a lot of fire monsters like moblins, and keese and chuchus-” Wild continued.

“Don’t the chuchus in your Hyrule explode?” Hyrule asked once again, eyes shining in excitement.

“Yeah! If I throw bombs at them then I can make a huge explosion! Especially the big ones.” Wild confirmed with a grin.

“No, you two are not having a competition of who can make a bigger explosion when we get to Wild’s Hyrule again.” Time already knew where this would lead. It was best to nip it in the bud now.

“Awe.” Wild and Hyrule groaned.

“We never get to do anything.” Wild mumbled with a pout.

“You were saying?” Time lifted an eyebrow. Wild huffed once more before continuing his story.

“Right. It was a long walk and of course I wasn’t going to risk taking a horse. There were a lot of cliffs along the path and since I didn’t have much time I took the straight path. Then I accidently ran into a Talus!” Wild grinned at the rest of the group’s groans. They had some run-ins with the larger monsters in Wild’s Hyrule, and while they all had tough enemies, Wild’s had some of the largest monsters that were considered relatively common.

“Volcanos have molten rock, how did you miss it?” Warriors joked.

“It was molten rock!” Wild defended. “It blended in perfectly.”

“Wait wait wait.” Four waved his hands. “Your Taluses are also made of magma and volcanic rock?”

“Yep.” Wild confirmed, laughing slightly at the various looks of surprise the Links always held when they learned of new monsters their own Hyrules didn’t have. The other heroes had been near Eldin, but not quite near Goron City enough to see an Igneo Talus. Hopefully they were never dropped off near Death Mountain. Wild didn’t really want to wake up on fire.

“Are there ice and electric ones too.” Legend groaned.

“Ice ones.” Wild answered. “Those ones are really hard to see.”

“Ugh, remind me to watch my step.” Legend rolled his eyes.

“Will do.” Wild deadpanned. “Luckily I had some ice arrows so it was okay. Eventually I made it to the Southern Mine. That’s where the Goron mine for ore!" Wild explained. "I even met another Hylian there! He had some of the Flamebreaker Armor that you get in Goron City.” Wild had shown the group his Flamebreaker Armor before, and some had even tried it on, including Four.

“Oh? Did you seduce this Hylian for clothes as well?” Warriors raised an eyebrow.

“No I did not!” Wild crossed his arms, glaring at the rest of the now laughing heroes. “I’ll never live that down will I?”

“Nope.” Warriors and Legend smirked at Wild’s glare.

“I asked if I could buy it, since he was heading down anyway.” Wild spoke over the chuckling Links. “He said he would give it to me if I caught him 10 fireproof lizards so he could make elixirs. I saw a bunch of lizards while running up so I caught enough.” The rest of the group nodded, they too had to do some… irregular things for important items.

“How do you catch that many lizards that fast?” Wind tilted his head. “Aren’t they quick?”

“Oh yeah. If you’re not careful they’ll scurry away and bury themselves in the mountain side or under rock. I had to crouch and hop around.” Wind laughed at the image of Wild moving around like that.

This was nice.

“Is Goron City far away from the Southern Mine?” Sky asked.

“It’s not too far, but after I got a part of the armor and started approaching the city, Vah Rudania, Daruk’s divine beast, was circling Death Mountain and started launching giant fireballs so I had to dodge them and sprint up to the city.”

“Giant fireballs? Why would the beast attack you?” Hyrule asked.

“Well I’m not sure if Rudania meant to do it since it was circling the volcano, but Rudania was terrorizing Goron City like Medoh was terrorizing the Rito, so I think it was because of the Calamity.” Wild hummed in thought.

“They were infected with… malice, right?” Four questioned, remembering Wild’s pictures of the large pool of intimidating… something. It was apparently a manifestation of the Calamity, and Wild had said it burned whenever he touched it, especially with the Master Sword in hand. Four remembered even the pool looked evil. Pure black roots took hold of whatever was around it, mixed in with deep shades of reds and purples. Wild also told him there was an odd sound it made that set him on edge.

“As far as I know.” Wild nodded, thinking back to the pools of malice in all the Divine Beasts. “Back 100 years ago,” The group perked up in both excitement and worry. It was rare Wild talked about 100 years ago. Both because he couldn’t remember it, and because it had pained him for so long. “The other champions rushed to their Divine Beasts. The plan was I would protect Zelda, and return to defeat Ganon after the Divine Beasts weakened them. Zelda wanted to come with me, since she still believed there was a chance to awaken her power. She always pushed herself so hard…” Wild trailed off for a moment, staring into the fire. Twilight almost began to rise, believing Wild to have slipped into another memory, but Wild shook himself out of it quickly. “Help never came. The Divine Beasts were taken over by malice, and while they piloted themselves the champions were killed by Blights that Ganon had created to directly match their strength and exploit it. And well… you all know how the story ends.” There was a heavy silence, no one knowing what to say, including Wild. Wind scooted over on the log and leaned against Wild gently, showing his silent support. Wild smiled down at him, then at the others around the fire.

“It’s okay.” Wild told them. “Let’s just keep talking about the Gorons?” He proposed.

“Cub…” Time started, not quite knowing how to get his message across. “Talk about whatever you want to. Anytime.” Time finished, hoping Wild knew what he meant, and judging by the smile he did.

“Thanks, Old Man.” Wild said earnestly, thankful for the comfortable warmth at his side.

“Well um…” Wild began, thinking about where he left off. He appreciated that everyone waited to let him think, and didn’t interrupt him. “I finally made it to the city. Since it’s made from the materials they have up there it’s made up of a lot of rock and metals, but it’s still great to look at! They work hard on their signs outside their shops and the children always roll across the bridges over lava. There’s also a whole bunch of statues carved into the mountains.” Wild made large gestures solely with his left arm, since his right was still held captive by Wind.

Time leaned his chin into his hand. It was always interesting to hear about the boys’ Hyrules from their perspectives. Some Hyrules like Wild’s had very little to no government, and Time enjoyed hearing how different civilizations had gotten by.

“I got to meet with their leader, um, the ‘Boss’ of the Gorons. His name is Bludo. He’s really grumpy, and he has a bad back. He told me that him and someone named Yunobo would use cannons to scare off Rudania-”

“You have cannons too?” Wind looked up, always excited to hear how similar his and Wild’s Hyrules could be.

“Mhm!” Wild nodded. “Do you all not?”

“I had air cannons mostly.” Four spoke up, among some murmurs of confirmation among half the Links. It seems Time, Warriors, and Hyrule didn’t have cannons in their Hyrules.

“Since his back was bad I had to go find Yunobo, who disappeared after running an errand for Bludo to get medicine for his back.” Wild continued after briefly explaining how cannons work. “I just had to follow the path up to the Abandoned North Mine. Since Rudania started terrorizing them and monsters infested they stopped using that one as much. There was a Goron watching the area and he told me to not touch the Boss’ cannons.”

“And let me guess you touched the cannons right away didn’t you?” Sky asked, clearly amused.

“Yes I did. There was one right behind him.” Twilight let out a snort, quickly trying to muffle his laughter at Wild’s playful glare. Time too, was greatly amused by Wild’s antics, although his mind wandered a bit. All of these names for the Divine Beast’s names always sounded so familiar. Was it possible Wild too was a part of Time’s hero line? His Hyrule was far larger than the others, though. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wild was in a timeline of his own. Or perhaps somehow the land had changed and Wild was just far, far into the future. Time shook his head slightly and tried to tune back in. He really needed to stop trying to understand how complex time and time travel was.

“The cannons are so fun up there! I could roll my round bombs into them, and they had enough power to blow up a whole monster camp.” As Wild rambled on about all the ways he could use his bombs around Death Mountain, including cannons and carts, his eyes practically sparkled.

“I finally found Yunobo.” Wild got back on track with his story. “He was trapped in a cave-in and I got to use the cannons to get him out. When I went to check on him, he had some sort of orange shield surrounding him, and he was really timid.” Twilight mused on that for a moment. That sounded like how Wild described one of his champion powers.

“I had to run back to Bludo after that, and he told me about Daruk. I looked up at the stature of him and I finally remembered him, at least a little bit.” Wild had a small smile on his face.

“What was he like?” Hyrule questioned.

“He was really kind, as far as I could tell. He joked around with me a lot and he didn’t even care that I never answered. He said he would protect Hyrule to his death.” Wild’s smile turned bittersweet. “I think he always forgot I wasn’t a Goron, or he didn’t care, he would smack my back hard enough to send me flying.” Wild chuckled lightly.

He seemed to be fond of Daruk 100 years ago. Daruk appeared to understand how much pressure was crushing down on Wild, yet he never showed pity or disdain. He even teased him about it. Wild could remember a faint feeling of excitement when being told he would be seeing Daruk’s progress, so he assumed the Link of 100 years ago enjoyed his time among the Gorons, no matter how short it was.

“Awe yes I remember that well. I distinctly remember running away screaming when the Gorons wanted to thank me for helping them.” The camp cackled at the image of a younger Time running away and screaming.

“Bludo asked me to find Yunobo again, since his back was still hurting him.”

“Good to know everyone in every Hyrule is so needy.” The veteren scoffed.

“Turns out that Yunobo works with Bludo because of his powers he got from Daruk, the forcefield I was talking about. Yunobo hops in a giant cannon along Death Mountain, and Bludo launches him at Rudania.” Wild explained.

“That… sounds dangerous.” Sky laughed a little.

“Yeah… but Daruk’s shield is indestructible! Only problem was the guardian sentries surrounding the mountain.”

“The what?” Wind raised his head from Wild’s shoulder to look at the older boy.

“Rudania sent them to guard the area once we finally arrived at the base of Death Mountain.” Wind nodded and plopped his head back onto Wild’s shoulder, no one daring to tease either of them, even in good fun. “If they caught me with their lights, they would send magma bombs right onto the path!”

“And how do you know that? Did you get caught?” Warriors asked, slightly surprised Wild would get caught. He could be quite sneaky when he wanted to be.

“Well I was curious…”

“Wild!” Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I ran back to the base after I tested it and Yunobo had his shield!” Wild defended against the groans and muffled laughs. “Besides I was about to launch someone out of a cannon I wanted to know what we were up against. I avoided the sentries the rest of the time, and I had to whistle for Yunobo to stop and go, and there were some Moblins on the way up.” The rest of the group could imagine that climbing Death Mountain, especially one as large as Wild, while avoiding sentries, fighting monsters, and whistling for someone to stop and go would be tedious.

“Everytime I fired Yunobo from the cannon Rudania fled further around the volcano, and we made it all the way to the top!”

“Did you set off anymore sentries?” Twilight questioned.

“No!” Wild frowned. “I’m not completely reckless you know!” Wild stated, not appreciating the silence that followed his statement. “I’ll have you know I made it all the way to the top!”

“And how did you get into Vah Rudania?” Time raised an eyebrow.

“I…” Wild started boldly, before realizing exactly how he got into the Divine Beast.

“You what.” Twilight narrowed his eyes.

“I… jumped.” Wild shrugged the shoulder Wind wasn’t resting his head on. “Once I got into-”

“You jumped where.” Time smirked. That bastard, he knew something was up and he was gonna sic Twilight on him! Wild would find a way to get revenge later.

“Vah Rudania was in the middle of Death Mountain so I used my paraglider-” Wild once again tried to brush this portion of the story off.

“You jumped into the middle of an active volcano?” Four cackled, the first one to understand what Wild was saying and showing an odd lack of restraint.

“Wild.” Twilight chided in ‘that voice’.

“Don’t ‘Wild’ me you lit a building on fire!” Wild defended.

“See Time! This is why I didn’t want you to tell them!”

“How did you know your paraglider wouldn’t burn up?” Warriors lips quivered under the strain of covering a grin.

“I would deal with that when I got there!” Wild claimed once again, trying not to focus on the slight flaws in his argument.

“How? How would you deal with that?” Legend threw his hands up at his friend’s stupidity.

“I don't know Legend. I never got there so I never had to deal with it, since it turned out fine.”

“What happened next?” Hyrule asked, covering for Wild and moving the conversation forward. Wild held back a fond smirk, he’d have to thank Hyrule later.

“Glad you asked, Hyrule!” Wild ignored any other questions. “I heard Daruk’s voice telling me I had to go find the terminal as usual, but this time inside the Divine Beast was pitch black.” The group had finally stopped asking questions and started listening to the story with interest.

“I had to get rid of pools of malice by shooting the eyes, and I had to light some areas up. Once I reached the terminal there were some places that opened up so it was lit up again.”

“Did this one rotate like the other Divine Beasts?” Legend asked from his place against his log.

“Yeah I could control it with my slate like the other ones. There were all kinds of puzzles like the last beast, like this one where I had to light my arrow with blue flame and shoot it through a hole in the door, then-”

The rest of the Links listened intently as Wild went into the intricate details of the different puzzles within the beast. They were always interested to hear both about the Sheikah technology of Wild’s world, and how he had to use what was available to him to solve them. As much as they teased Wild for being stupid and reckless, he really was intelligent, espeically when it came to logic and puzzles. Twilight remembered how some markets in his Hyrule had little puzzles made of wood,each one requiring moving certain pieces to unlock different parts. Twilight had never been particularly interested in them, but he wondered if Wild would be, if Twilight found one complicated enough. He’d have to get away from the group and find one whenever they ended up near one of his markets. Perhaps even Four and Sky would be interested in getting their hands on them and taking them apart.

“-and I finally got to the last terminal and unlocked it.” Wild continued, barely pausing to breathe. The group wasn’t sure if he was aware of how much he was talking, or how rapidly, but they didn’t dare interrupt. “Fireblight Ganon manifested, and had the power to throw huge fireballs. But he had to suck in everything around to create them. So I threw my bombs into his mouth and blew them up. Other than that, I just had to get up close.” Wild described the fight in an almost casual sense, even though it seemed these blights were pieces of Ganon himself. It seemed some blights were far easier than others.

“When Daruk appeared, I still only had one memory of him, but he seemed as kind as he had been in my memory.” Wild had a small smile. “After freeing the beast I got teleported back to Goron City, and Vah Rudania took its position against the Calamity alongside, at the time, the Zora domain’s beast.” Wild explained. “Bludo thanked me, even though he hadn’t really understood what I did. I said goodbye to Yunobo, and, uh, that was that.” Wild ended his story as awkward as always, wincing at his own words. His throat, still unused to talking so much for such a long amount of time, felt as though he had swallowed sand.

“Thanks for the story, Wild!” Wild looked down at the sailor, something shining in the younger’s eyes he couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah! I always like hearing about how your guys’ kingdoms compare to mine.” Sky smiled, kindly shuffling and reaching over, handing Wild his water pouch. How he knew Wild needed it, or when he even got a hold of it, Wild would never know. Wild nodded in thanks and began sipping at the water, resisting the urge to chug it all in one gulp, as everyone’s voices blended slightly, creating a warm atmosphere.

The group continued to discuss different topics, going off on different tangents relating to Gorons and their Hyrules, all of which Wild was perfectly content to just listen, occasionally answering questions directed at him.

With the warm weight against his shoulder, and the comfortable but lively chatter surrounding him, Wild allowed himself to just exist within the moment, feeling himself relax further.

“Hey Wild?” Wild felt the head against his shoulder stir, and Wild looked down to meet a fellow set of blue eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the story.” A relaxed but genuine smile reached Wind’s expressive face.

“No, Wind. Thank you.”

~~~

Very minor spoiler for Age of Calamity: The fact that BOTW/AOC Link canonically eats rocks is beautiful to me.

Wild loves puzzles, change my mind.

I like to write Wild how I play video games in general, which is just screwing around and seeing what happens.

I’m sorry if I get anything wrong about other Hyrules. I’ve played a good amount of the Zelda games but it’s been a long time since not a lot of them are on consoles I have :(

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justice4harwin · 3 years

Text

Light’s Corruption-Chapter II

Pairing: DarklingxAlina

Summary:With few friends at the Little Palace, Alina must work to win the favour of her fellow grisha and their commander, who makes her feel light headed every time she sees him.After training in Os Alta for two years, the king grows tired of waiting and demands the Sun Summoner joins a western post near the Fjerdan border along with the rest of The Second Army to test her abilities.Something happens. Suddenly, Alina wants blood to run down the rivers and those who stand in her and The Darkling’s way will be blinded by her light and swallowed by his shadows.It won’t be pretty.

Part 1 here

TW: Mentions of/referenced sexual assault

Tags: Like last time, I’m taking the liberty of tagging the people who commented/liked/rebloged my post where I asked if anybody would wanna read a story like this, but ill do it in the comment section cause a friend told me tumblr doesn’t forget to notify that.

Again, if you don’t want to be on the tag list, please let me know, or if you’re new and wanna be added, let me know too.

Hope you like this :D

Chapter 2: Queen Tatiana

Alina allowed the light to caress her, embrace her, gentle, phantasmagories touches that seemed to be thanking her for finally accepting it.

Her eyes opened, and all she could see was gold. Looking down, she noticed the power came from her palms, which were facing forward at her sides. A dome of light had formed around her, at least five meters in diameter.

She laughed in disbelief. She felt so strong, as if nothing could ever come her way.

She felt truly alive for the very first time.

So, this is what is like, uh?

“Miss Starkov?” she heard a distant voice, and turned to see The Darkling approaching her dome, eyes squinted.

She wasn’t sure what would happen if he touched the light, but she wanted him to see it, she wanted him inside with her.

She stretched out a hand, and slowly, the man stretched his own. After a tense moment of resistance, she felt his fingers grasping hers as he passed through, and then the rest of him.

He looked around, a new gleam to his eyes that lit up his features almost as much as her power lit her.

“Very impressive for a first time, Miss Starkov.” He congratulated her, his tone almost admiring. He looked her in the eye. “Very impressive, indeed.”

“Alina,” she found herself saying, elated at both her flowing light and his praise. “please, call me Alina.”

Smiling gently, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, his hand softly travelling down her neck, leaving goosebumps on its way, until it came to rest on her shoulder.

“You and I are going to change the world, Alina.” He said, with such passion is made her knees week, before turning serious again and squeezing her shoulder for a moment. “Now, make it shrink.”

“How?”

“Call it to you, as if receding the day into night, until only two small orbs remain in your hands.”

She nodded, focusing. Gently, like a mother soothing a scared child, she called the light back inside of her.

She felt like she was petting it, hushing it, telling it was time to rest.

Slowly, the dome began to shrink, and then more, and then more, and then she had to blink several times to get adjusted to the natural light of day.

She lifted her hands, one small orb of light in each, and smiled as brightly, looking up at The Darkling, who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away from hers. His chest moved up and down in rapid motions, his gaze so wide there was almost no grey in there. There was a frenzy in his gaze, something primal yet profound, and Alina felt like he could be the one to burn her instead of the other way around.

Finally, she closed her hands into fists and the lights disappeared. She felt almost drunk, the satisfactory hum of her power now coursing through her body, giving her a new sense of confidence so foreign to her.

“You are magnificent.” The Darkling breathed out, startling her, making her cheeks burn.

“It was just my first try on my own.”

“And look around you. Look at what you can do.” He gestured with his arms.

She did, and found the grass turned black, the water of the lake smoking, some steam coming up and forth. She was definitely not putting her hand in there.

“The gardeners will hate me.”

He chuckled quietly, taking a step closer, until their chests almost brushed with their breaths.

“Maybe.” He said, taking her hand again. “But all of Ravka will love you.”

Slowly, he lifted her hand, still way too warm due do the use of her powers and bought it up to his cold lips. Alina held her breath before releasing it again, heart hammering in a way she didn’t fully comprehend.

“I don’t need all of Ravka.” She said, without thinking; a new habit around this particular man, apparently.

“Oh?”

Kiss me.

She thought, and he seemed to have guessed it, for he began to lean forward.

“ALINA STARKOV! I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU ALL OVER THE PLACE! I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK AN—SAINTS!” Genya, who had been marching towards her with a big scowl, her white kefta willowing behind her like a snowstorm, came to an abrupt stop. “What have you done to this place?”

“I can summon now!” she exclaimed, beaming at her. Genya was the only one who knew of her little,…problem.

The tailor looked around, evidently impressed.

“Remind me to stay on your good side.” She took notice of The Darkling and immediately straightened, bowing slightly. “Forgive me, Moi Soverennyi, but the queen has extended an invitation for the Sun Summoner to have tea with her and her ladies.”

The Darkling nodded once, casually dropping Alina’s hand. By the way Genya’s eyes barely flickered, Alina knew she now suspected something.

“Of course, Miss Safin. Who am I to keep the queen waiting?”

They smirked at each other, and Genya held out her arm for Alina to entwine with. On her way, she quickly snatched the forgotten letter.

Alina didn’t look back to see the damage she had caused, but to see if he was still there, but The Darkling was already marching up to the stables without a second look in her direction.

“Here.” Alina offered the paper to Genya, who gave her an apprehensive look. “It’s the last one; I swear.”

Hesitant, Genya took it and hid it inside one of her many pockets as they continued their path towards the Little Palace.

“You stink, you know?” she said as they entered and began to walk through the corridors that led to the stairs.

Alina was aware. Her face felt hot and wet, and she couldn’t wait to get out of her clothes.

“Does the queen really want to have tea with me?”

“Unfortunately.” Genya sighed as they began their eternal ascension towards Alina’s bedroom. “It’s mostly so she can show you off to her friends as if you were a shiny ornament, and to get some intel for the king. So, be careful of what you say.”

“Will you be there?”

“Fortunately for you, yes. But I’ll be mostly by the bitch’s side.” She gave her friend a sideways look. “Do you know tea etiquette?”

“You… take the cup and drink from it?”

“Saints.”

“What? Why? It’s just tea.”

Genya opened the door and pushed her inside, slamming it shut and shooing her towards the waiting bathtub.

“Maybe she’s also expecting that. She does love to have a laugh at people regarding those things. HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE LATE!” she yelled, clapping her hands and taking out a blue dress from her wardrobe.

Alina did her best with the insufferable little buttons, almost ripping them off and exhaling in relief when it fell to the floor. She took off her boots next and the pleasure was even grander. How she hated to be sweaty.

Soon, she was naked and inside the bath, which smelled of lavender. She scrubbed her legs with the sponge.

“Can I come in?” Genya asked from the other side of the curtain.

“Yep.”

The woman, as usual, wasted no time.

“Did you wash your face already?”

“Yep.”

She knelt by the tub, behind Alina, and began to disentangle her mass of her with hard yanks.

“Hey!”

“Oh, I’m sorry; but if you had been where you were supposed to be we wouldn’t be going against the clock.”

It was true that she was meant to spend some time in the library learning grisha theory, but she had forgotten all about that as soon as her eyes shot open in the morning and decided to become what she was meant to.

“Sorry; I wanted to try something on my own.”

“You weren’t really on your own, were you?” the redhead asked carefully, twisting Alina’s hair from one place to the other.

“General Kirigan found me.” She hesitated for a moment. “He was actually the one who helped me summon.”

“I thought you had done it by yourself.” Her friend sounded confused.

“I did! He just,…gave me some words of encouragement.”

“Words of encouragement?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

“What?

“Nothing.”

“What?!”

“Up.” Genya held a towel for Alina to wrap herself in, and quickly took her back into the bedroom and sat her at her dressing table, getting to work on her face.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.” She said as she ran her expert fingers over her face, fixing and making her look presentable. “Now, I’ll run you over the etiquette really quick. So, keep up, Starkov.”

“Yes, Miss Safin.”

After a moment of severe silence, they both laughed.

Much to Genya’s apprehension, Alina refused to wear a dress, and insisted on taking a clean, silken kefta instead.

“If she wants me to dress pretty only to make my ignorance funnier, she’ll be disappointed.” Alina said as she took a belt. “The kefta will remind her who I am.”

“I don’t think she’ll care either way.”

“I can accidently blind her as a reminder.”

Genya laughed at that, shaking her head and taking her friend’s arm and leading her towards the Grand Palace.

They took some corridors which avoided the throne room Alina had seen only the first time she had arrived, which, come to think about it, she realized it was the only time she was inside that place at all.

They soon arrived at a grand double set door; the handles made of pure gold. Alina frowned. One could feed all the orphans at Keramzin for a few weeks with that.

Two guards opened the doors for them, and the young women entered, heads high and shoulders back. Alina had refused to relent her hold of Genya. She didn’t care if the queen felt insulted by it.

The woman in question sat upon a ridiculous golden chair, resembling of her own throne. There were two servants in white on either side holding trays. Down the steps of the queen’s chair-because of course she had to be set up on a dais- there was a small, round table almost full.

There were seven or eight women of various ages, all dressed finely and speaking faintly to each other.

When Alina entered, the room became silent. The queen shifted her blue eyes to her and raised an eyebrow, quickly taking in her clothing and her arm around Genya’s.

Letting go of her friend, Alina took a step forward and bent respectfully.

“Moya Tsaritsa. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course, Miss Starkov. I have been waiting for some time with our Sun Summoner for quite some time,” she spoke, her voice forcibly airy, as if she wanted to try and be some sort of ethereal creature. “alas, the general has kept you busy with all kinds of training.”

“He has, Your Highness. But it’s all for the good of Ravka.”

“It is so good to know you care so much about your country, Miss Starkov.” She said the last two words with a special accentuation, as if to belittle her due to her lack of title.

Alina did her best to smile.

“Don’t we all, Your Highness?”

“Of course, dear, of course.” She gestured towards an empty seat at the table, almost directly underneath her, between two middle aged women. “Please, have a seat.”

Alina could feel Genya moving in a different direction behind her as she approached the queen.

She sat down as gracefully as she could and smiled at the women around her.

An older woman clad in green smiled back.

“Tell me, Miss Starkov, how do you find Os Alta so far?”

Before Alina could answer, the queen spoke up:

“Well, that is quite rude of you, Lady Popovich. You have yet to let me introduce yourself.”

Lady Popovich looked down; face flushed as she uttered an apology.

As Genya conducted some male servants towards them, they shared a look.

“Miss Starkov; allow me to introduce you to Lady Tanya Popovich, to her right…” Alina did her best to remember their names, but as the queen introduced each of the ladies, she also launched into a small monologue about each of them. Alina couldn’t help but notice how she liked to talk highly of them, only to put in a small jab in the middle before finishing with some apologetic, merciful tone and moving on to the next one.

The servants placed a small plate filled with water in front of each woman, and the Sun Summoner couldn’t help but notice how all the women at the table and the queen had shifted their eyes towards her.

With a blank expression, Alina dipped her fingers delicately into the water and then used the cloth set to her left to dry them. Standing against a wall, Genya hid a smile as some of the ladies’ disappointment became evident.

The door busted open, and a young woman in pink rushed in. Her cheeks were flushed, her blond hair just a little bit messy.

She curtsied.

“Moya Tsaritsa, my deepest apologies.” She had a nice, gentle voice.

“Lady Anastasia, for a moment I thought you might desert us. It is unseemly to be late.”

“It will not happen again, Your Highness.”

“No. It will not.” She said, curtly, then nodded to the only chair available. “Sit.”

Lady Anastasia hurried towards the table and sat, quickly washing her hands. She looked up, and Alina thought she knew her from somewhere.

Then it hit her. She had run into her just days before in the maze, fooling around with Nadia.

Discreetly, Alina swiped her finger across the corner of her mouth. Lady Anastasia’s eyes grew large for the briefest moment before she wiped her mouth casually. Then, she sent the other woman a minuscule smile.

They all waited in silence as one of the servants handed the queen her cup of tea, and only after she took her first sip did the other servants approach the table.

Alina took in the smell. Was that peaches? She had never had peach tea. She was used to herbs and such, but fresh fruits were too rare in Keramzin and The First Army to use it for tea.

The servants laid out silver platters with sweets of all kinds, most of which she had never seen, and shot a look at Genya, who made an almost imperceptible sign with her hand.

Wait.

Everyone looked up at the queen as she took her first sip and contemplated the cup with fake, dramatic anticipation. Finally, she looked at her audience.

“Please, help yourselves. The tea is delicious, and the pies smell divine.”

Only then did the other women began to eat. Some had more water poured into their cups, but Alina always preferred a strong drink, no matter the taste.

She noticed how all the hands reached out for the pies instead of the biscuits or cookies, just like Genya had warned her. Apparently, the guests would preferably eat whatever the queen felt like it that day, and the rest tended to remain untouched and later thrown away.

“Miss Starkov,” the queen spoke, finishing a small slice of pie and handing the plate to the other servant behind her. Her eyes were slightly narrowed. “how have you been adjusting to life at the Little Palace? I imagine it must be quite the difference compared to an army camp.”

“Or an orphanage.” Snickered a woman across the table to Lady Anastasia, who frowned but then smiled slightly, not saying anything.

“I’m still settling, Your Highness.” Alina sat straight and looked her in the eyes to address her. “It’s quite the big change of scenario, but so far I’ve been adapting well enough.”

“I heard that you had a small incident with one of the Squallers about a month ago.” She said, with fake innocence. “What was her name, Genya?”

“Zoya Nazyalensky, Your Highness.”

“Oh, yes, I remember her from the last Winter Fete. So talented, so beautiful.” She said, looking pointedly at Alina at the last part.

She resisted the urge to tell her she wasn’t the one with a Tailor working on her stupid face day and night.

“Yes, Zoya and I were training with Botkin.” Alina admitted, wanting to smile at the memory of Zoya coming out of The Darkling’s chambers in tears. “It was hand to hand combat; she’s got far more experience than me, and I got hurt; but it was nothing.”

“I was sure I heard she had used her power on you.” The queen placed her fingers underneath her chin. “I believed that to be prohibited during combat training.”

Alina didn’t know what to say; she wasn’t sure what the woman sitting to her left and above her wanted to get at.

“It was an accident on her part. Sometimes, our powers just,” she flickered her fingers, a steam of light rolling over them and disappearing, startling the other guests. “come out on their own.”

She wanted to turn back so she could see Genya’s face, to know if she had given the right answer or not; but breaking eye contact while talking to the queen of Ravka was considered rude.

“And yet your general saw it fit to send her away.” She said, pretending to be confused.

Alina kept on hesitating. Something told her that, not matter how much she disliked Zoya, this was not the right time and place to give an honest opinion.

“She’s part of The Second Army, Your Highness. A lot of us are always being re-assigned somewhere or called back.”

“But you have not.”

“I—I’ve only been training for a few months. Zoya’s had years.”

“Besides,” a soft voice spoke up, and everyone turned to Lady Anastasia. “there is only one Sun Summoner; sending her out without sufficient training would put all of Ravka at risk, would it not?”

“Indeed, Lady Anastasia.” The queen had to concede. “You are very smart, are you not?”

Lady Anastasia bowed her head humbly.

“I simply enjoy all kind of knowledge, Your Highness.”

“So well educated, so modest and pretty, such an extraordinary lineage.” At this, queen Tatiana turned back to Alina. “The House Gusev extends back to the days before The Fold was formed; they even had a few monarchs on the throne.”

“A long time ago, yes.” Replied the blonde, hurriedly.

“And yet,” the queen squinted her eyes, and Alina already felt sorry for the young woman. “you remain unmarried. It is such an odd situation for you, dear. The years do go by,” she touched her face and smiled. “well, for some of us at least.” She laughed airily, and Alina really, really wanted to tell her that she couldn’t pull that off. She sounded ridiculous. “So, I assume you must have at least one prospect. What could possibly be wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong, Your Highness.” She replied, her cheeks red. From the distance, Alina thought she saw her eyes glistening with tears. “My father is very strict. He will not let just anyone wed his youngest daughter. And to be quite honest, I do not believe he wants to give away his youngest one yet. Seeing Zasha wed Galina and move out of our home was hard for him.” She finished with affection, earning several soft smiles.

As far as Alina knew, it was rare to see same sex marriages in the nobility, and it required a long process which involved plenty of paperwork. Regarding the royal family, it was prohibited.

The queen leaned back on her chair and stretched out her right hand. A small plate with the cup of tea was set upon it, and she took her time with the second, small sip.

“Well, I imagine you must be eager to start your new life. Marriage is such a bliss. I shall talk to your father about it soon.”

Lady Anastasia opened her mouth, but the queen was faster.

“Lady Yelena, would you please grace us with another one of your arias? You have the voice of an angel, my dear.” The woman sitting on her left stood up. "A moment. Genya, please take care of that ugly mole above her lip; it is most distracting."

Well, it seemed as if Alina were safe now, at the cost of that poor woman.

She didn’t dare to look at Genya for the rest of the event, for she could feel the queen’s eyes on her, analysing her every move.

Each lady bowed to the queen, uttering a respectful "Moya Tsaritsa", and the summoner did the same, aching to get out of that place.

The sun was setting when the queen finally decided she had had enough company for the afternoon. Alina was more than relieved to stand up; her butt hurt, her legs protested and her back cried.

"I should escort miss Starkov back to the Little Palace, Your Highness." Genya stepped forward.

"I am sure she can find her way back on her own." Interrupted a new voice.

Everyone turned to face the king and bowed, giving the expected greeting. His sleazy eyes drifted to the redhead, who stood stiff with both hands clasped behind her back. Alina looked at the queen, who didn't seem too happy either.

"If I may, Your Highness?" Alina took a step forward, not even knowing what she was gonna say. She felt sweatier than she did earlier in the gardens. "General Kirigan insisted that Miss Safin remain with me for this night. My training today was most …aggravating, and he saw it fit that someone helps me recover."

"Aggravating?" he asked, seemingly suspicious.

"In a good sense, Your Highness. I've shown quite the improvement today, but I'm afraid it's taken it's toll on me." Alina wasn't sure where all that came from, but she had a feeling The Darkling just might be a tad amused by her, and that only made her want to smile and reveal her charade.

"You do look plainer than usual."

You're one to talk.

She smiled humbly, and the king grunted.

"Very well, then. If General Kirigan insists."

"He does, …Moi Tsar."

How she hoped the king didn't bring the subject up with The Darkling.

"You are both dismissed then, but Miss Safin will return to her duties at dawn."

Both women bowed and left the room.

Alina casually held on to Genya's elbow as they hurried out of the Grand Palace, looking around at all the ugly paintings of Lantsov ancestors.

Once outside, the chilly air hit them both, but Genya continued to pull her along across the dark.

"You didn't have to do that." she said quietly.

Alina shrugged.

"It's nothing, really." she swallowed, giving her closest friend a sideways glance. "I've, uh, heard some rumours about the king and-"

"The queen usually keeps me too busy during the day, so his attention won't drift during the night." said the redhead, as if talking about the weather. "But sometimes it's inevitable." She looked at Alina, both now at the entrance to the Little Palace, illuminated by lanterns. "Thank you." she said, softly, looking into Alina's dark eyes with sincere, deep gratitude.

"It's nothing, really." the brunette felt uncomfortable. On the one side, she wanted to jump at the king and claw her way into his heart and rip it out for doing what he did; on the other, she knew there was nothing to do to help her friend. "It's just one night."

Genya sighed and drew her into a hug.

"One single night free can be a marvellous gift."

Alina smiled, returning the embrace.

"So, …I'm guessing we're having a sleepover? I never had one back at Keramzin! All the other girls were older than me and wouldn't let me join in!" she tried to cheer the mood.

Genya parted, quickly wiping her eyes.

"Neither have I, and I would love that." she turned serious again. "But first, we need to talk."

A/N: Hope you liked it!

Click here for part III

#shadow and bone #alina starkov #the darkling #aleksander morozova #alina x darkling #alina x aleksander #genya safin #my love is your time to shine #fuck the queen shes a bitch #lets kill the king #fanfic #shadow & bone trilogy #shadow and bone fanfic

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what-breaks-my-heart · 3 years

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Here are some brief thoughts on kdrama that started airing in 2020 that I've watched. I said brief, but those who have been following me would appreciate that this is indeed, brief.

The list is in alphabetical order.

1. 365: Repeat the Year (MBC)

Disclosure: I am a HUGE Lee Joon Hyuk stan. He is second only to Hyun Bin on my list. The fact that this drama is on the top of this list is a happy coincidence 🥰🥰

I was soooooooo excited when I knew Lee Joon Hyuk was to star in a new drama. MBC made the announcement of the drama late last year, and I was literally walking to the office when I saw the announcement on ig.

The premise of the drama was pretty straightforward. 10 people were given the chance to travel back in time exactly one year prior. Mysterious things kept happening to the people who took the trip, so our Detective Ji “Fluffy-Hair” Hyung Joo and webtoon writer Shin “Self-Hater” Ga Hyun joined hands to figure out what exactly happened.

Once they finally figured out what caused the mysterious cases, they faced a great dilemma on what to do, with our Fluffy Hair detective running as a fugitive.

The ending was really sad, and I really wished it ended differently, but the main character of the story was our Fluffy Hair detective, and him having to live on and reset the whole thing from the new past was a nice touch to the ending.

This drama was full of surprises, twist and turn, and it is certainly a drama I would consider rewatching in the future.

2. Do You Like Brahms? (SBS)

Many people criticised the second half of this drama. Apparently the year 2020 is the year when kdramaland keeps being a disappointment, and many people are quick to include this drama in the list of disappointing drama, despite having a good beginning.

I beg to differ though. To me this drama feels more of a healing drama, wherein the characters are forced to deal with their issues. And anyone who has had to go through any form of therapy knows how hard healing process is.

TL;DR: The main leads are both people who have been mentally abused by the people around them, except for Cha Young In, because she was the only reason I did not throw my remote control at my 50-inch TV.

Park Joon Young is your classic example of a ‘gifted kid’ struggle. He was seen as a young, talented pianist who had a bright future ahead of him. But people started to treat him more like a trophy than a human being, so he decided to take a sabbatical, much to the criticism of people in the music industry. Park Joon Young realised that his passion in playing the piano has faded away, no thanks to his abusive piano professor who belittled him again and again, and practically brainwashed him into being a people pleaser. You could see how Park Joon Young was not himself in the beginning of the drama once you finish the drama.

Chae Song Ah took interest in violin at a later age (much later than professional musicians) and decided to pursue her dream by enrolling into a music programme. Her classmates were all younger than her, and it didn’t help that they all learnt music since much younger. I love how Song Ah did not give up on her dream easily and gave it her all, before she finally decided to let go of her dream to become a musician. The metaphor of her love for violin and Joon Young hurting her again and again and she just endured it though.. I cried like a mess well I am a mess but that’s a separate issue

Special shout out to Cha Young In who was there for both of them.

3. Flower of Evil (tvN)

If thriller is your thing, consider this drama. If you are one of those people who like to see your characters being tortured (physically and mentally), this drama is a MUST WATCH. And if you enjoy watching Lee Joon Ki playing a character who is put at a great distress because he is trying to run from his past, go watch this drama.

More importantly, if you enjoy a drama where your ML is sexy, attends to house chores and takes care of his bright young daughter while his wife goes crazy for solving violent crimes, a devoted husband who is attentive and a tender person but also a freak in the sheets, you are wasting every single of your breath not watching this drama.

I mean look at this man teasing his wife about his stamina.

Flower of Evil did not feel draggy at all. Everything that happened within the first 6 episodes could have been an entire drama if this was written by someone else. Seriously, this drama kept me at the edge of my couch!

The dynamic of HS and JW screams POWER COUPLE but at the same time it broke my heart how they were pushed into corners too many times by the people around them I do hope they had some sexy times while they were in the corners though

The focus on their wedding rings throughout the drama symbolised their unbreakable bond. The wedding rings were literally the very last thing that kept them together when JW stumbled upon evidences that pointed against HS.

JW, whose compass was only trusting what she saw, and not what she heard, tried to break the stigma of women being at a disadvantage in the police force. Heck, she was better than her entire team when it came to solving cases, her being the only woman in the team. Who said women cannot make good cops?

The plot twist though.. And the climax.. To this day, I still listen to this soundtrack from the drama and cry just thinking of the climax.

4. Into the Ring (also known as Memorials) (KBS2)

I didn’t even plan on watching this drama. I was channel surfing and saw Park Sung Hoon looking all depressed in the first episode and ran into Koo Se Ra. Girl was UNHINGED and determined to fight for her way.

Her motivation was initially on getting a stable pay check from being a district representative (it was only 60 million won which is like USD55k so it’s not that much) but she eventually became the district representative who fought for the benefit of the people and did not care for the political warfare that took place.

Came along Seo Gong Myung, a government officer in the local government office who was demoted from planning unit of the accounting department or something to be a secretariat to the district assembly. Seo Gong Myung sticks to his principle no matter what, which surprise surprise, is HATED by everyone in the district government.

Turns out our main leads were friends when they were kids so Se Ra kept teasing him and dragging him into her scheme of fighting for the people, which Gong Myung agreed to, not so much because he was a community-loving person, but because he was afraid Se Ra would get into trouble since she was as straight as a ruler.

Long story short, our leads fell for each other, and their relationship was HILAIROUS to watch. I think I speak for everyone who watched the drama that we had no reason to believe Se Ra did not peg Gong Myung for fun 😝😝

They were so cute together awwww

5. Kairos (MBC)

This is another drama that I stumbled into. Only this time, I saw Nam Gyu Ri and I remember seeing her ig post on a new drama so I decided to give it a go. She wrecked my heart in 49 Days so I decided to check this out for funsies. Hooo boy was I in for a major surprise.

The first two episodes got me hooketh!! I still cannot believe how the drama managed to keep me on my edge especially during the last 5 minutes of every episode. The pacing is even faster than Flower of Evil, and since this drama went back and forth between past and future, it keeps me guessing whether their efforts would bear fruit.

Will Kim “Sexy Brain” Seo Jin and Han “I-Know-No-Fear” Ae Ri succeed in fighting the evil, who at this point in time remains unknown? I know Chairman Yoo Seo Il is currently being hinted as the culprit behind everything but I know better that he is just a puppet who sold his soul to the real devil who most likely is in the higher ranks in politics. I mean he even hinted at his remorse for what happened with Taejung Town 19 years prior. My suspicion is he is trying to cover up whatever happened because otherwise his own family would be at risk, so his only option is to redeem himself by doing something about the Taejung Town. I could be wrong, but regardless of who turns out to be the real villain in the story, I can say I am so satisfied by how the story has progressed so far.

The time paradox still hurts my brain, but I am choosing that this drama does not assume that time is linear.

There is still not enough people watching this drama and I’m begging you all to go and catch up before it ends in two weeks time.

6. More than Friends (JTBC)

A little trivia: I reblog most of the posts from @kdramastuff even if I am not watching the show at the point of reblogging the posts. I had been following her posts on this drama for 3 weeks, and I finally decided to marathon all 6 episodes and joined the watching party.

More than Friends was another drama that many people called a disappointment but I had a different opinion on it. Yes, I used to be the nerd who had different opinions on many things in high school sue me

The drama is premised on Kyung Woo Yeon who is said to have a crush on her high school friend, Lee Soo for 10 years. Lee Soo is nowhere near to be the perfect boyfriend material. He is selfish, does not care about other people’s feelings, and was always a lone ranger.

BUUUUUUT, Lee Soo seemed to show signs of care and affection (even though it was not at all for a normal person’s standard) for Woo Yeon. Surprisingly, he seemed to only do it for Woo Yeon and gave attention to Woo Yeon alone, even though he could practically pick and choose anyone he liked from the swarm of girls who were chasing him.

One day, he told Woo Yeon that he had to leave to the US to study, which made our girl sad. She decided to confess at the airport, but he outright turned her down, saying he only wanted to be friends with her. Over the time, they kept running into each other by coincidence (note: her name Woo Yeon is a wordplay on coincidence in Korean). Later, it was revealed that he wanted her to always be by his side, but he has built a wall as tall as the Great Wall of China before the idea of love so he didn’t realise what his true feeling for Woo Yeon was all along.

Woo Yeon, who felt sick of the ten-year crush, decided to end the “curse” and kissed him by the beach, thinking of getting a closure on her crush.

Long story short, Lee Soo finally realised his feeling for her and decided to confess, but by that time, a young, handsome, rich CEO of a conglomerate has entered into the picture. Cue the game of cat and mouse between Lee Soo and Woo Yeon about resentment, regret and relationship.

This drama was promoted as a romcom, but it feels more like a slice-of-life drama with a mix of melo and romcom in there. Seriously, I cried buckets watching this drama, not something you’d expect from a romcom. The dialogues were well-written, with each episode revolving around a specific theme. This was such a good drama coming from a rookie writer.

This drama did not have that many viewers to begin with, and many of those few people dropped it along the way, including the one who was responsible in getting me hooked into this drama :p By the end of it, there were so few people talking about this drama in the tag (shout out to @dohyunsoo @have-yet-to-decide @starfire-s @thbn-anything for keeping me company to the very end of this drama)

This drama broke my record of screenshots per episode and total screenshots for any show. Until now, I have yet to finish posting them. I should probably upload more screenshots later tonight.

This drama had some AMAZING shots in the first half, with beautiful sceneries mostly in Seoul. It’s like what they said, “a daily occurrence for you, a trip for me”.

7. Oh My Baby (tvN)

I did not even remember watching this drama!! It was only after scrolling through my gallery that I saw I had shared some posts on my ig story about the drama.

It was in the middle of a lockdown when this drama aired and many of my memories from back then feel so distant to me.

The plot was not THAT good, but this drama is something you may consider if you like torturing yourself about the struggle of wanting to have a baby.

8. Once Again (KBS2)

Arguably one of the weekend family drama KBS2 in a while that kept me waiting for new episodes in front of my TV. Some people are turned off by weekend family drama because they tend to have slow pacing which makes viewers feel like they are being dragged to one of those boring corporate events that you would rather miss and wish you could be literally anywhere else.

Because this drama had more pairing than the typical weekend family drama, the story did take some time before it was on full momentum. It did feel like the drama could have been better with even one less sibling to worry about, but it was a fun watch in the middle of lockdown.

Will I watch it again? I’d rather rewatch House of Bluebird (starring Lee Joon Hyuk and Lee Sang Yeob as friends to enemies to friends again) because that drama spoke to me in a way that was more relatable. No hate to Once Again though. I just prefer House of Bluebird better.

Note: Justice for Song Ga Hee and her lovely son, Kim Ji Hoon. He had to grow up so much because of what happened to his mother, that it broke Ga Hee’s heart. And mine of course

9. Secret Forest 2 (tvN)

I watched Secret Forest once it has finished and I fell in love with the drama! Imagine my excitement when they announced Secret Forest 2 with my three main characters reprising their roles. No hate to Yoon Se Ah, I love her, but her screen time in Secret Forest was not enough to make me excited about her return. But I was pleased with her role in Secret Forest 2 and I hope if there is a third season, her character gets the redemption arc that she yearns for.

Secret Forest 2 was not as intense as the brilliant original, but I understood that it had to do with the overall theme of the season, and the theme required the script to be as such. Some people may argue me on this, but I still think what they pulled off was brilliant.

Too bad there was a severe lack of Lee Joon Hyuk on my screen though.

10. Tale of the Nine-Tailed (tvN)

Well. This drama went far beyond my expectation. The OTP was to die for. No such thing as miscommunication trope. This drama did not waste time on unnecessary drama. The pacing was incredibly fast, even faster than Kairos. Although to be fair, Kairos had to play with two different timelines and required time to establish the setting.

I’m sad about what happened to Lee Rang, but he did what he did, and he would never be able to erase that much pain from his memory even if the deities decided to be lenient on him because of his roles in killing off Imoogi. A fresh start as a human seemed like a fair reset to his life, and I hope he lives well, surrounded by people who love him.

I was never a fan of Jo Bo Ah (no hate on her, I was just indifferent) but this drama opened my eyes to what an incredible actress she is. I wish her a successful career ahead.

#365 repeat the year #365: repeat the year #do you like brahms #do you like brahms?#flower of evil #into the ring #kbs memorials #mbc kairos #more than friends #oh my baby #kbs once again #secret forest 2 #tale of the nine tailed #kdrama #kdrama review #kdrama opinion #personal #annual drama recap

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formulinos · 3 years

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overall, this season has been hella exciting i think and the way no one is safe in the constructors championship and we have battles on battles on battles is very much a highlight we haven't seen for a while. as a Tifosi, i'm currently focused on the rivalry as old as time and how tf is there a way from snagging P3 from McLaren. because of that, i also usually dread looking at the battle for the championship but this past week, i can't help but wonder... is red bull that better or is mercedes struggling after all?

i'm gonna be honest here: earlier in the season (i think right before it started or like around bahrain) i partook in shit-talking and said that i didn't rate max verstappen and i felt red bull would never be championship contenders as long as they all remained comfortable in their positions, that is, max has it good as crown prince, horner and marko remain terrorising the kids in the red bull system and doing god knows what, newey refuses to let go of his design philosophy and he's too expensive to be that stubborn, etc. come on, it's sports, you are not immune to shitty opinions and even if you are an encyclopaedia of knowledge sometimes you just need to spew hot takes.

surprisingly enough, the madlads have so far the lead and are legit doing well. sticking to the newey philosophy paid off as they weren't as nerfed as the merc oriented cars and overall, it seems that while the RBR isn't the strongest car when you put it in comparison with merc's on their finest days, it's a cohesive one and far more adaptable. i do think that a LOT of their success this year, however, relies on the weird max verstappen growth arc that has been going on, and that one i will hand to the influence of two people: checo and kelly. this is not gonna become a sentimental think piece, i promise, and i'm not gonna speculate much on what's going on behind the scenes, but considering max's familial struggles (to say the least. to say the most, j*s verst*ppen is a whole ass demon), i do think it's interesting that his form is probably the best and he has been far less belligerant overall after starting to date kelly, who i think that although a bit extra, clearly likes him, and who supports him. in fact, the whole piquet family is incredibly tight and many of them (most noticeably nelsinho) have come up and extended their support to max. maybe the piquets adopted him, idk, but the fact he has more stability and apparently, warmth in his personal life does make at the v least him more peaceful to head on race weekends.

then we have checo, who we know ideally doesn't want to be a second driver, but who also never had as good an infrastructure to drive as in red bull (even in mclaren tbh) and who is himself in his best shape. my guy is having fun even if he has marko's eye staring at him all day long and as much as the stats are supposedly saying that albon, gasly or whoever else had better starts in the red bull than him, he's the support on track that max needs. he's there to get in the way of bottas and lewis if necessary, he does that role well and in a year where you have ferraris on pole and mclarens and aston martins on the podium very early on, checo is making sure that red bull isn't the team missing on points due to this. red bull and max are STABLE and COMFORTABLE, that's my point one. on the other hand, merc is struggling. you can't say they aren't and that this is just about red bull being the better team because these guys are the currently reigning champions, they are the benchmark for this hybrid era we're in and even though they have had battles for the championship before (f e r r a r i), this year has a curious distinction: they're suffering from pep guardiola syndrome and overthinking it all. Their approach post-nerfing has been to attempt to remove rabbits from their hat and sometimes it works brilliantly but lately it just makes them more stressed and they overcomplicate what should be more simple. the updates post-testing worked for their purposes of making the car more presentable, but they're not willing to bring big updates throughout the season (and tbh we're in june, might as well focus in 2022 from now on) so their one hope is to get strategy going with the flow. to get strategy going, you need a good environment. and IMO, toto is bottling hard here. valtteri bottas has a lot of flaws. to me, the way he hasn't exploited the Nico Rosberg Handbook To Beating Lewis Hamilton is one of those (he has the milk straight from the cow's titties, man! he could and should have been more of a bitch if he wanted to win). but he also did what he had to do waiting for the day that mercedes would reward him priority, which they never did because having the GOAT beat all of schumacher's records is far more important and would mean more to the brand than having a rando split titles with him. but he has been class this year so far publicly, stirring the pot far less than what he could do while getting constant shade from the media who say they're done and even george, the guy who wants to steal his seat and tried to damage part of his reputation during that race weekend but it backfired.

most importantly though, toto's conduct has been too humorous for this. my guy is constantly answering questions about how he doesn't know yet what will be his choice, it'll be taken on summer, or winter, or spring, george is part of the family, it's valtteri's fault the wheel got stuck, but then nice on him for complaining about merc on the team radio. he basically lost valtteri's support already, dude's not bothering anymore and why should he honestly if on public the team hasn't been doing any effort anymore to back him up? toto knew from sakhir last year that the most asked question this year would be "when will you dump val for george" and he should have said it once "we are happy with our driver and both of them thriving means a lot for mercedes. whatever happens will be dealt privately but valtteri has a season with mercedes, george with williams and we should focus on that" and then refuse to answer anything else throughout the year. if valtteri or george want to talk about it, good on them. the team needs to show support for their drivers though and not have this mockery going on. the international implications? lewis is entering panic mode, the one we've seen so many times. he doesn't have no.2 covering him as well as he did the past years and his direct rivals have now 2 drivers on his tail. the car is not that nice as well. if lewis is happy and fine and dandy, then he wins the championship easily, you need to get under his skin to get him to commit silly errors and go into defensive mode (that weirdly includes a lot more of social media activity as well). fortunately for red bull, it doesn't even take shade from their side to have it happen. mercedes are already doing enough. what will happen later this season? idk man. i just hope ferrari get p3 or at the very least don't lose p4. ideally none of them would win for me because i don't want to see anybody in rbr get a trophy or lewis beat michael's last records. but whatever, this is f1 and you can't always get what you want. the red flags def should be waving for merc if they aren't already and they need their crisis committee to draft better solutions asap. in the mean time, good job max on solving half your issues i guess? therapy is always recommended.

#long post #i'm dropping my opinions here on this after a cut bc no one deserves to be pushed to read ppls ideas without wanting to #but if you want to talk about it well i'm kinda done here but feel free to listen to me #and disagree #and then dm me or smth #i needed to let it out honey

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spiritualgateway · 3 years

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The Next Wave

written by Steven Black:

We seem to be experiencing a boom of old conspiracy theories. Sometimes woven into a new coat, but at the core they are the same old black and white stories. Is it also true that all the conjecture, relativization, fake news and various conspiracy theories that are currently surfacing annoy the hell out of you? I have to be very careful about the sarcastic part of myself and therefore I keep myself from commenting. Not always, but mostly.

Whenever I open my FB Stream lately, I notice a real war being waged by the self-proclaimed awakened against the alleged sleeping sheep. One „have to know“ after the other is posted and „THE Truth About“ is announced – daily. I know this all too well.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

Yes, I went through a phase myself where I believed a lot of bullshit or at least thought it was possible. It started in the late 90’s and ended in 2012, and during that time I probably inhaled every existing conspiracy theory and read all the authors who spread it with a fervor of conviction. Starting with David Icke, Jan van Helsing, Robin de Ruiter and countless others, up to Alex Jones. Hell, I myself have contributed to the spread of such stories. The subjects they dealt with back then were not really different from what they are today.

Me and many other people, we thought we were „awakened“ then, because we believed we could understand the world more and better, like everyone else. Critical comments were countered with „inform yourself properly“ and immediately some links of „alternative points of view“ were thrown behind, which confirmed our own statement. And one could be sure that other participants who took the same bubble would shout down the critic as „mainstream sleep sheep“. No matter what argument came up – it did not reach anyone. In this phase one is not accessible to criticism, one fends it off. But if the criticism is so valid that it cannot be negated, one still had the recourse to some whataboutism.

It was a time when it was all about „the rise“ and all the political or economic daily news was seen as „there is light coming into the darkness“. We knew that the „end of the matrix“ was near and that a worldwide recalibration of consciousness was coming. We thought of ourselves as light warriors, critics of the system, rebels for the good and enlighteners. Fervently inspired by the conviction that we had all taken the „red pill“ and would now be the only ones to see clearly, we wanted to wake up and enlighten „the sleeping sheep“. In doing so, we constantly reminded them that it was absolutely (!) necessary to do research, think for oneself and question everything! Only WE knew, all others were of course stupid, brainwashed or sleeping. We were the judges, jurors and executioners of the worldly realities – self-proclaimed world policemen and smartass activists. We alone knew how the rabbit had to hop and how it „should be right“.

Pffff. When I look back on it now, I can laugh about it heartily. God, what a wonderful mindfuck.

Yes, if we had done it like that.. If we had heeded this „winged advice“ that we had thrown at everyone, we would have taken it to heart ourselves. If we had questioned the sources we referred to and believed. Instead, our own thinking, research and questioning was limited to almost everything that came from alternative media and supported our views. Official facts, whether political, economic or otherwise, were „mainstream“ and thus fundamentally untrustworthy. It was all just propaganda … (yes no, that’s clear).

This made us susceptible to believe people and media that had either a political or other agenda. Starting with racist Jew haters, religiously dressed up ideologues, political muddle-heads, esoteric concepts without any grounding, up to „doomsday fanatics“.

But we had heard a call from the universe that the time had come for an expansion of consciousness. It felt like a kind of magical awakening. And I, as well as everyone else in that time who was like that, we were not the first. There have been recurring, rather small movements since the 1950s. But there was a really big, concentrated shift of consciousness in 1986, at the time of the so-called „Harmonic Convergence“. One can certainly call this the first great wave of lightworkers and truth seekers that the world has perceived.

They did not fare much better either. These people, too, had to rummage through various horror scenarios, actual and imagined injustices, as well as their own overflowing imagination. But the basic themes were the same as they still are today. They are power topics (power and powerlessness), money topics, resistance to living, dying and all kinds of heavy, undigested emotional burdens. At that time, all of this was going on a little more quietly, at least in the eyes of the public. These topics were only discussed in small forums on the early Internet.

And today?

Today, the „social media“ are full of them and various shit storms are spilling over into the media mainstream.

Today the exact same process is taking place, in a new wave of people who have come in the beginning of their own awakening process. Awakened can not be spoken of, it is a slow awakening and it usually takes years.

One „wakes up“ from years of unconscious dwelling within one’s own personality structure, which has usually become quite rigid. One gradually enters into a new process of self-discovery, where many things are simply thrown over, which were normal and acceptable until then. The sense behind this is a broadening of perspective and a restructuring of mental expression.

Yeah, right. They got a call from the universe.

And at first you are thrown into confusion and disorientation. You will also have the feeling of stumbling around in a seemingly endless labyrinth. Individually varying degrees of identity loss can occur, which additionally creates fear. Many things seem to make no sense anymore, you part with friends, views and previously held beliefs, while at the same time you have the feeling that you can no longer find a secure hold anywhere. A well known, often observable reaction to this is a devaluation of the human being, the body, the mind or the human identity itself. In the course of this process one stumbles from one conspiracy theory to the next, constantly stepping on a bullshit cookie and sometimes not knowing whether one is male or female.

Can you prevent this? No idea. Most probably not.

That doesn’t mean that everyone who gets into this process is clinging to conspiracy theories and thinking they are THE thing or the only and pure truth. But a lot of people do just that. In a time of great personal uncertainty, the one-dimensional black and white images of conspiracy theories seem to simulate an unpleasant but seemingly stable reality.

Basically, an essential scenario is happening here – your consciousness is being twisted through the wringer and a kind of battle is taking place inside you. A battle between your old consciousness and the new, unknown. The old consciousness knows only defense and projection, but the new one wants to reflect and express itself mainly through self-reflection.

This inner fight has nothing to do with any Rockefellers, Rothschilds, Bill Gates, vaccinations, cash bans, paedophile satanists, mind control or whatever. In reality, „the universe“ is fucking your old consciousness to break you open and dissolve old encrusted structures. And the first, basic reaction is mostly projection and defense.

Hiking through your own darkness

There is a spiritual metaphor that says: „The dark night of the soul. This term goes back to the Spanish Carmelite and mystic John of the Cross. It is a poem written in the 15th century – in prison. For John of the Cross it was about the mystical union of the soul with God. Nowadays this metaphor is used to describe the difficult period of a spiritual development process, where the human personality has to struggle with disorientation, depression and confusion. Its purpose is actually to achieve a continuous, increasing and lasting reconnection with one’s own soul consciousness. This is a time when many things that once seemed normal and safe for the human personality simply seem to break away. Where instead depressive states are experienced, where crises, insecurity and loss of orientation prevail.

I actually believe that we are all in some kind of global dark night – the entire human species, the entire human family. And, of course, that means a process that will last for several years and probably decades. We are going through personal and global, very individual crises and we are coming into contact with our own darkness. With many things that we have been carrying for a long time, but which we are very often simply not really aware of. And a whole lot of situations and emotions are being washed up inside of us, so that we have the opportunity to check if it still fits for us. Yes, in the end it is years of trials …

It takes a while to understand that expanding consciousness has little to do with any external enemies, but rather with what is going on inside and how to deal with it. Nevertheless, it is apparently unavoidable that you first shoot yourself on everything you find in the world of Scheixxe and what you judge to be „that shouldn’t be like that“. And so one wades for a while through all kinds of dirt, horror ideas, laments about injustice and deals with horror scenarios. Starting with worldwide mind control, up to some omnipotent enemies of mankind. As an antipole you read channelings or inform yourself about natural food.

Basically, projections are a defense mechanism of the psyche. The term projection describes the transfer and shifting of one or more inner psychological conflicts to other persons, groups of people, living beings or various objects of the outside world.

Relatively harmless projections are when we ascribe characteristics, deficiencies or problems to other people, which we ourselves carry openly or hidden within ourselves. A far more serious form of transference is when I believe that the whole world is conspiring against me (or humanity, the whole earth, health, freedom, morality, faith, etc.).

Whatever the case may be, when we project, we thus transfer our own issues, fears or worries, to other people, organizations or groups of people, so that we do not have to feel it with ourselves. And then link these fears to certain events or circumstances that we do not like, which is then considered „proof“. The point is – what we project and transfer to other people are either unrecognized, personal qualities or unprocessed, emotional problems from our past, which we transfer to the present. And often, both variants intermingle. Projection allows us to transfer self-experienced situations or predominant emotional states, in our own consciousness, that are perceived as unbearable, to ward off these emotions from ourselves by transferring them to x-any situation, people and organizations.

And this, whether we want it or not, is unavoidable in a real wake-up process.

We push away what is inside of us and project it onto politicians, Illuminati, cabal, deep state mind control or whatever. To explain to us why we have certain feelings or thoughts. In this way we can continue to fool ourselves that everything is okay with US – only with THOSE out there, there is something wrong with them.

Talmud: „We do not see the world as it is. We see the world as we are“.

You can of course now despise all this fear porn of various conspiracy theories and call it bullshit – which of course is a good 99% (in my opinion) of all conspiracy theories. But in the end, they seem to fulfill a need that is not quite visible on the surface.

When you get into such a wake-up process – process, mind you – your entire identity structure is „attacked“. All the things and experiences that we hid from ourselves and that we repressed will be flushed up from our inner self over time and our protective and defensive shields will become porous. Most of the time, we have buried them so deeply that we can no longer feel or perceive many things. Deep, formative experiences that reach far back into childhood. All our deep fears, the inner insecurity, the doubts or our real self-esteem will gradually creep to the surface and say hello. Everything that has been quietly there all along will suddenly start screaming very loudly inside us.

Conspiracy theories are theories, not facts. They are extremely simplified black-and-white images and, moreover, highly exaggerated descriptions of a seemingly alternative reality. Mixed and connected with actual, clearly criticizable, political, social or economic processes. Whereby, however, the really criticizable things are completely lost, because the context with which they are interpreted is completely far-fetched.

BUT …

Now, if a Xavier Naidoo in a video cries because allegedly thousands of children are being freed from an underground torture prison where they were abused as human lab rats to obtain an alleged super drug called Adrenochrome and you react emotionally to it, it is because this extremely shocking horror show is arguing with certain experiences of your own past. Maybe from a past life, maybe in this life – does not matter in the end.

But you can suddenly feel THAT. It breaks down your protective shields and your emotional numbness. You can feel this nameless horror inside you, what it must mean to be tortured, abused and trapped. Powerless, to be exposed innocently and helplessly to something. But at the moment you can’t realize that this might have something to do with yourself. And you do not want to feel all the unpleasant things that have to do with you personally. You do not want to feel your personal powerlessness, helplessness or fears. You want to get rid of that.

I’m not saying that conspiracy theories are good. But everyone has to go through his own processes, even if that means having to go through a nonsense of denial of reality. If you bought into it, then you have to go through it. Okay, whatever makes you descend into your own darkness is good.

Of course, there is no such underground bunker and no tortured children to produce adrenochromes. And of course, „St. Donald Trump“ has not freed anyone. This Q Anon story is completely free of meaning and serves nothing else but to secure Donald Trump’s re-election and keep his conservative voters happy. Apart from the fact that there is child trafficking, that there is organized sexual and also ritual abuse of children, there is no truth in the story itself.

These and other conspiracy theories, however, bring you in touch with your own feelings and emotions that are buried deep inside you. The stronger you react to it, the more outraged and angry your reaction is, the more emotional charge you have built up.

The dark and heavy energy, such formatted information, docks fundamentally to the inner parts of the person that are in pain, traumatized or disoriented. This inner pain is often so well hidden and suppressed, so great and unspeakable – because never processed or admitted by us that only a supermonstrous, absolutely malignant source can explain it, who must be behind it. This kind of milkmaid’s calculation, of an omnipotent conspiracy feeds and triggers the fragmented inner child within us, which then becomes angry and projects its hatred, its rage and despair onto the world.

What do you think it does to you when you wallow in assertions and views that the eternal sacrificial existence enshrines? What does it do to you when you think the world is in the iron grip of a global conspiracy, a supposed elite, with the aim of undermining moral principles and ultimately reducing humanity? If you believe that some malevolent aliens have allied themselves with various leaders or secret organizations to rule the earth? And you yourself are completely powerless in this?

Does it make life much more fun? Does it create meaning, love or harmony for yourself and more connection to the world? Does it produce improvements in your personal life? You will have to admit that this is not the case. On the contrary – you clearly feel worse. If you roll around in dirt, you don’t get cleaner, but naturally dirtier.

If you go through this phase, the day will come when you are „done with the world“. Where you feel so weakened, depressed and trapped in your own darkness that you will experience a kind of inner breakdown. You will approach a state where you give up. Which, as weird as this may sound, is a good thing. When your inner resistance and your defense strategies no longer work and collapse, there is only one way out – to work through your emotional burdens. In reality, this is not a breakdown, even if it feels that way – it is a breakthrough.

This is the moment when the real challenge begins and you are so „backed up“ that you are ready to face your own personal issues. And in the end it’s all about that and nothing else. It is about you, not about politics, economics, Illuminati, cabal, Donald Trump, Rothschilds, Soros, Bill Gates or Rockefeller. It is about you personally, in this process. How you feel with yourself, your body and your life.

The Rothschilds are not responsible for how you feel or whether you have too little money in your pocket. Donald Trump is not coming to save you, Germany or the world. God or the universe will not transport you to a light-filled 5 D world where you don’t have to feel all the pain anymore. George Soros is not to blame if you do not take responsibility for yourself. The pharmaceutical industry is not to blame if you are sick. The slaughterhouses are not to blame if you are meat. Reptilian shape-shifters have nothing to do with it if you don’t feel comfortable with yourself or your body. Illuminati or Kabale are not responsible if your relationship breaks down or you are no longer satisfied with it. No one is responsible for whether you can accept yourself, with all your apparent faults or inadequacies. No one, except ourselves …

All these are deeply personal issues and conflicts that should be looked at. No one will come to save you miraculously. You are the one you are waiting for. You are the one who can „save“ yourself.

It is about making new friends with yourself and life. It is about self-acceptance and self-acceptance, exactly as you are. And you will only achieve this if you really deal deeply with yourself. Everything else is just an attempt to avoid yourself. To avoid the pain, loneliness, loss, anger and many other conditions that have accumulated in you for years. And it takes a lot of courage to venture into a therapeutic reappraisal process and to face your personal stories mercilessly.

This is a very critical time when you are extremely vulnerable and unfortunately some people do not manage to take the necessary step and get stuck in the old stories. They get stuck in conspiracy theories and cling to them desperately. And bullet through one wave of outrage into the next. If you don’t do transformation work and don’t integrate all the unpleasant emotions into yourself, you can get stuck in it for a very long time.

I recommend to everyone who wants to hear it, an examination of the Inner Person Model. And I strongly recommend feeling work. Get professional help if you are in this process. You will find it very difficult to get through on your own and if so, you will have to spend much more time with it. So take care of yourself and your consciousness …

Man is basically not a prisoner of fate, Illuminati, Freemasons, aliens, etc., but of his own consciousness, which he does not care about. When you deal with your inner conflicts, your emotional nebulas and diffuse mental states, you regain clarity – above all clarity about yourself. If you are clear with yourself again, many strange convictions you had about x – any external processes will also be cleared. You will then realize that you don’t need conspiracy theories to criticize various processes or states in our society. There are enough factual, fact-based and also technically competent arguments for this.

For those of us who have been through it for a long time, for those who find it a bit annoying to see all this old stuff reappearing so massively in the social media. But we should remember that we once experienced a similar phase and had to go through it. No, of course these people are not stupid, even if a part of me has the perception that the concentrated stupidity seems to take over the power at the moment. They are merely in a process of transition and one can only wish them good luck and good luck with it. They are not the first and will not be the last. In fact, I believe that this will intensify.

I have a part of me that thinks it could save people from their own experience if they only had enough information. This part of me thinks he would abandon his tribe if he didn’t say anything about it. And so I sometimes make comments to some people when I feel it would make sense to correct the statement. Most of the time it doesn’t take 2 minutes of googling to find out the facts. Meanwhile I make such comments only once, sometimes even twice. But if I constantly get answers to them, which my 20 years younger self has known for a long time, because he himself answered criticism like this, then I stop.

Because the adult in me knows that it makes no further sense and the person has to go through this experience until the end. Once you are in it, there is no other way out than to go all the way through it. Then I just keep my mouth shut and sometimes I unfriend or put people on „sleep“. Especially those who share particularly annoying „alternative theories“. This is pure self-protection. I just try to keep some distance to the experiences of others that don’t fit (anymore) to mine.

It took me a lot of persuasion to make this part of me understand that it cannot protect or prevent anyone from their personal experience. And to feel all the sadness and regret, at the thought that in this process some will „fall under the table“ and may not be able to rise from there. This part of my personality has now understood that his tribe has to do its own personal, very individual work to come to terms with the situation and that this is entirely his responsibility. Or he will get stuck in his experience.

I am also aware that the term conspiracy theorist is considered offensive by many who are in it. Well, they should thank those people who, by mixing up thoroughly criticizable topics with phobias, paranoia, hysteria and pure fantasy, led to a huge accumulation of absurd theories that no clear-thinking person can take seriously. And no, the term conspiracist was not invented by the CIA to silence critics of the Kennedy assassination. It goes back to the Austrian-British philosopher Karl Popper, who coined the term conspiracy theory as early as 1948.

From where I stand today, conspiracy theories make no sense at all. They are packed with emotional dramas and personal imbalances, cause doubt, create fear and feed the hysterical inner child. Never have conspiracy theories led to anything constructive. They simply invite you to let your hatred, resistance, lack of empathy and inner drama queen out and let the proverbial sow run free. To understand this, just look through the commentary columns under some VT Post.

And it is not at all about the fact that there have been or are actual conspiracies throughout human history. But all the things that are manufactured and suspected about it today, so bizarre and excessive, can’t be put on any cow skin anymore. Conspiracies are by definition top secret – they are so secret that any fool with computer access can find them neatly listed on the Internet. Michael from Recklinghausen knows them all, maybe the CIA should hire him …

Makes totally sense, right?

But okay, it’s just basic personal issues that are transported in this way. Apparently, for some of us it is necessary to exaggerate things so much that we are capable of an emotional reaction. Because no matter which horror story is given for the best – it is always MY personal fear that is then triggered. My anxiety, my paranoia, my hysteria – all kinds of emotional instability that exists within myself is reflected.

And when you are in there, you believe that it is all real. That some reptiles rule the world, that George Soros is using refugees to destroy Christianity, that Angela Merkel, Barack Obama and white-vultures are still reptiles in human form, that the Corona crisis is a hoax, that it’s the pretext for establishing a dictatorship, that all the famous Hollywood actors or politicians are pedophiles and that Donald Trump is liberating Germany. That the Corona crisis would be the final wake-up call for the rise to 5D or would be used by the elite to initiate a system crash and abolish cash or put all of humanity under mind control … etc., etc., etc.

It’s like a huge buffet where you can eat according to your personal taste. You can buy into any of these narratives – but a real danger is that they will swallow and eat you.

Ironically, it doesn’t really matter if things actually have any truth to them. The only criterion is whether or not we believe the narrated things. And what we believe is in turn related to a certain kind of identity. If there is already a deep conviction in our identity structure that we are victims, helplessly exposed to things and life, then it is not very difficult to convince ourselves of a world in which ALL people are victims of a huge conspiracy.

We all know, the world can sometimes be a terrible, unfeeling and cold place. But it can also be a beautiful, uplifting place, full of beautiful people and experiences. Everything this world holds in store is always an expression of people, of dynamics and personal, national and global processes and the consequences of these. If you look at the world in general with a sober view, you can see what a long way we as humanity still have to go.

It is a war that is raging inside us and that reflects its expression on the outside. The war between all the unredeemed and burdensome emotional content, the mental beliefs built around it and the painful attempts to control it and keep it away from us – but which we always lose because the elaborate stories we tell ourselves about it to rationalize and explain the pain away collapse sooner or later and the pain comes back to us with all its force. We can’t run away from it, because we can’t run away from ourselves.

None of us can „save“ the world, but we can „save“ ourselves and do our inner processing work. Imagine that everyone would do this? In no time we would see a completely different world. But since we refuse most of it and think that we ourselves do not need it – it will probably take some time. Nevertheless, this is the path we must take.

Until next time same station …

DISCLAIMER: Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth, my perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

THE INFORMATION SPACE

#consciousness #conspiracy theory

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