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tedesquire · 2 years

Note

u can pick any prompt u want but i would really just like any egon fic plz and thank u

Sugar Pie Honey Bunch

Description: Egon has a pension for sweets. And a pension for the woman who makes them.

A/N: Had a lot of doubts about writing this one but it makes me happy so fuck it.

It was like a car crash. You couldn’t peel your gaze away, but you couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.

Upon entering your bakery in the morning, you were horrified to find half your display case shattered, treats either missing or squished on the floor. Were you robbed? Against your better judgement, you held your keys in between your fingers as a makeshift weapon and headed to the cash register.

All the money is still here? You glanced back towards the door curiously. It had been locked normally, and the windows weren’t broken or undisturbed. You headed to the kitchen to see if the back door had been breached but froze in your tracks once you saw… it.

A disgusting, green, floating...blob… was snarling and slobbering down anything it could find; other display items made the night before yet to be displayed, eggs, milk. Its eyes were beady and small, its teeth large and yellow. You couldn't believe it… it was an actual ghost. Standing- no, floating in your kitchen.

Gently stepping back to the front, your hands shook as you grabbed your phone off the wall and punched in the number for the commercial you had seen at least 3 times every day, 555-2368.

It wasn’t long before the loud roar of sirens approached, a white hearse screeching to a halt in front of your business, 4 large men stepping out. You had been standing by the door, unlocking it and approaching them quickly.

Before you could get a word out, a tall man with round cheeks and a tired, yet bright smile held his hand out.

“Hi, we’re the Ghostbusters! I’m Ray, this is Peter, Winston, and Egon.” He introduced each man, and you tried to force a smile.

“Hello. Uh, thank you so much for coming. I didn’t… I didn’t know who else to call. Obviously.” You grimaced, your nervousness making you flustered. “I- I came in this morning and saw everything smashed. I thought I was robbed but I saw… I saw...” You broke your sentence with an incredulous laugh. “I sound crazy.”

“You don’t sound crazy.” A deep voice came from your right. Dark, warm eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses met yours. Egon, if you remembered correctly. “The PKE is picking up valances. We believe you.” His words calmed your racing heartbeat. “Can you tell us what you saw?”

“This ugly little green booger, eating everything in the building.” Ray and Peter’s faces whipped to face you, a bunch of questions from both being spewed at you.

“Uh guys, maybe give her a minute.” Winston interjected.

“A spud-looking ugly blob?” Peter asked, and you nodded. “This job just got a lot more personal.” He muttered, cursing under his breath.

“You know him?” You sputtered as they started to head inside, trailing behind Egon.

“We had an encounter with him once before at the Sedgewick Hotel. He then escaped during the Gozer incident, and we’ve been looking for him since. Peter seems especially against it since he was slimed.” The tall man turned back to face you, jumping at your proximity. “It might do you better to stay out here. Things might get quite messy.” You opened your mouth to interject before sparks of red and shattering sounds stopped you.

“I’ll be out here then.” Egon started to walk back inside before stopping once more.

“I’m not the best at reading people… would you like me to stay out here with you?”

“Don’t you need to be inside... helping?”

“The last time we handled this guy it only took three of us to trap him.”

“And how exactly do you guys trap these ghosts? I’ve always wondered.”

“Well the PKE scanner searches for traces of psycho kinetic energy. It acts like a compass to guide us to apparitions. Then we use our proton packs, each equipped with a nuclear accelerator and positron collider to emit proton streams to paralyze…” He trailed off, ripping his gaze from yours. “Peter tells me my ramblings are boring to anyone other than Ray. I’ll stop.”

“No, no. Keep going. Please.” You smiled, already feeling better about the handling of the ghost in your business. “It might sound ridiculous, but the more you explain about it, the better I feel.” He seemed to give a little smirk, clearing his throat before continuing.

You found Egon charming, obviously intelligent, and humorous. You let him talk all about paranormal experiences and parapsychology studies, trying not to focus on the occasional ruckus you could hear from outside.

“Again, I apologize for the early call. Your commercial did say you were available at all times, but there’s slime all over my equipment, I can’t even offer you guys breakfast or coffee. But please, feel free to come back anytime. I guarantee you all a lifetime supply of anything.” You nervously chuckled.

“No need to apologize. We meant what we said, I just never hypothesized that we would yield so many positive results in such rapid succession.”

Your ears perked as the door opened, the rest of the ghostbusters gang smiling triumphantly as Peter held the smoking trap.

“You got it!?” You cried, jumping excitedly.

“Oh, we got it. That ugly little blister will again rue the day he messed with Peter Venkman.” He snickered to himself, handing the trop over to Ray as he approached you. “Now, comes the method of payment-”

“That will be $75.” Egon chimed in. You were stunned, enough to miss the matching looks on the others' faces.

“Oh. Really? From how much you told me about the equipment, I was sure it was going to be more. I’m not sure if my insurance covers ‘class five full roaming vapor,’” You quoted Egon’s earlier ramblings. “So I’m already anticipating a loan in my future.”

“$75.” Egon stated again. You felt your cheeks flush at his kindness.

“Deal. I’ll have a check for you at the end of the week.” The group had quickly packed up and left soon after that, leaving you to your own devices.

“So,” Venkman’s voice broke the silence in the hearse. “When I fancy a customer I’m a ‘creep’ and ‘game show wannabe’ but when Egon does it and deprives us of $4,925, I might add, it’s cute?”

“At least his girlfriend’s fully human, Venkman.” Winston teased, rolling the window down to light a cigarette.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Egon stated bluntly but remained quiet. Peter would say, and Egon would have to agree, he wasn’t the best with women, usually preferring to avoid them. It was either that or have to live through the ill-attempted fibs they conjured when he finally opened up to them only to be considered a freak or nerd. You seemed different, kind. And not in a fake way.

But it didn’t matter. They had finished the job and logically, would never cross paths with you again.

You had paid the Ghostbusters and eventually gotten your business back up and running. When the news got a hold of the Ghostbusters having a bust at your place, business boomed, eager adults and teens coming in to capitalize on phantom fever.

And Yet, even as time passed you somehow you couldn’t shake the kindness of Egon Spengler comforting you. And he wasn’t… unattractive...

Okay, so he was really attractive.

That thick, curly hair, sharp jaw, and deep voice. You’d have to be blind to ignore it. You were surprised none of the tabloids ever reported anyone else but Peter with a girlfriend.

But that’s not why you were going to the headquarters, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You knew Egon had given you a discount, although you couldn’t imagine anyone why. The only reason you could think of was he felt bad with how startled you were.

No, you were heading to the headquarters with four large offerings of cookies, muffins, cupcakes, sweet loaves, chocolate truffles, danishes, and brownies.

“Can I help you?” You recognized the familiar voice, the deskplate reading “Janine Melnitz.”

“Hi! I was wondering if I could talk to someone? I don’t have an appointment, but the Ghostbusters helped me out awhile back and I never felt as if I properly thanked them. Um- I also remember speaking with you so, I brought you something to thank you with.” You pulled your arms up to show the baskets you were holding.

A broad smile broke out on her face, Janine standing and helping you carry your goods upstairs to the kitchen.

“Well, well, well… look what we have here.” Ray, Winston and Peter sat at the kitchen table, playing cards, standing once they caught sight of you and Janine.

“These are for us?” Ray asked, making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah, ever since the Ghostbusters came, my bakery is New York’s hottest, most affordable, hangout.” You snickered, trying not to be obvious as you looked around to catch sight of the parapsychologist who had been occupying your thoughts.

“You know who would love these? Egon.” Peter teased, and you tried not to blush. “You should take some down to him, he’s in the basement checking up on the Containment Unit.”

“No, that’s fine, I really should leave anyway. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you all any longer.”

“Nonsense, Dr. Spengler loves sweet things, has such a penchant for them, I’m sure you could actually get him to eat something, and if you can, a little water, okay? Janine, if you could escort her, please?” You had no time to make up a decent excuse as Peter rambled on, waving to dismiss you.

“Venkman, you’re playing a dangerous game.” Ray mumbled under his breath.

“No, I believe dangerous would be defined as having dreams about spectral entities sucking you off.” Peter retorted, making Winston choke on his muffin and silencing Ray. “One of you guys has to get a real girlfriend.”

Your steps were heavy on the metal stairs, drawing Egon’s attention. You. The woman he hadn’t stopped thinking about, no matter how hard he tried.

“Hi.” You greeted shyly.

“Good afternoon.” Egon pushed his glasses up. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

“I dropped some gifts off as a thank you. I hope you enjoy them, since I have no doubt you won’t accept anything else as payment.” You teased boldly, trying to hide your nerves. “I heard you were a fan.”

“My parents didn’t allow for sweets, but on the few occasions I would visit my grandparents my grandmother would always sneak me a twinkie or two.”

“Sounds like your parents were strict.” Your hip leaned against the edge of his desk. “My grandmother is the one that taught me how to bake, and inspired my dream of owning my own bakery.”

“How is the bakey?” He asked. “No other entities? Ectoplasm? Moanings? Rumblings?”

“No, nothing that I’ve seen. A few of my workers are still spooked, even if they didn’t see anything.” You sighed. “It’s too bad they don’t understand PKE readings, you could come by again and do a reading to calm them down. Is that the right term? PKE?” You could see a quirk of that unseen smile peak at the corner of his mouth.

“Correct. You could be a ghostbuster.” You snorted.

“As if. I could barely complete an associate’s degree, let alone a PhD.”

“Do you think I should?”

“Hm?”

“A PKE reading. Should I come by and check it out?” He stepped in towards you, concerned.

“Oh! No, I don’t think it’s that serious.” Fuck. If you liked him, shouldn’t you find an excuse to see him again? “Unless, you think so, Dr. I trust your professional expertise.”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.” He decided, stare unwavering with yours. You coughed awkwardly, pointing to the control panels on the walls.

“So, what is all this stuff?”

“Oh, this is where we put all the vapors and entities that we trap.”

“Really?” You looked at the equipment again with a spark of interest. “Is it unprofessional to ask if you could show me? As an honorary Ghostbuster, of course.” A light exhale escaped his nostrils.

“Of course.” He mumbled, grabbing an empty trap. “Once we catch something we load a trap here, open, unlock the system. Insert the trap, release, close, lock the system.

It’s extremely important to remember to set your entry grid and neutralize your field. The ghost is incarcerated here in a custom-made storage facility.”

“Custom-made? You made it?” His sheepish grin said it all. He’s so cute when he smiles. “Do you mind if I try?” He stepped back, letting you grip the trap.

“Okay, so I load the trap here and release…”

“Close,” Egon recited. “Lock the system.” You turned to notice how close you both were to each other, trying to remain calm.

“And then I set the entry grid to neutralize the field.” You press the top button, finger hesitating over the bottom two buttons, his proximity making you forget.

“Don’t press the bottom one.” He gently grabbed your wrist to press the middle one. “It’s a reversal button. It would let the ghosts out.” You scoffed.

“Why have a reversal button?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to safely extract all the contained vapors in case the storage unit overflows. It’s happened before.”

“The Gozer incident?”

“Not exactly. It was the asshole from the EPA.” He softly cursed. “But I’m still trying to figure out logistics before theorizing a hypothesis and conducting experiments.”

“I think what you’re doing is really great. Saving people from ghosts, saving… saving me.” Your tongue peeked out to nervously lick your lips, only realizing then that his hand was still holding yours. His gaze seemed calculated as he stared at you, and you wondered if he could hear your heart practically beating out of its chest. You opened your mouth to say something, anything but before you could, his lips met yours.

His lips trembled, but you couldn’t blame him, you were quite nervous yourself. You could feel him pull away, but you didn’t want it to end, freeing his tie from under his sweater vest and pulling him closer.

He let out a noise of surprise, arms coming to wrap around your waist, slipping over the wire of the trap, safely stuck in the containment center, and making you both slam into the wall. You both only separated to sip a quick breath before tangling your fingers in those thick, irresistible curls.

He was more confident this time, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging. For all the sweets he let himself indulge in, he thought you tasted better, your lips warm and inviting. Damn his intellect, knowledge and beliefs, he felt as if he could be satisfied here with his hands squeezing your soft waist, your own digging into his scalp.

He was about to lock you into another searing embrace when the alarm rang, both of you pulling apart.

“Oh uh-”

“I-” You both tried to speak. You chuckled softly, pressing a peck to his cheek. “Go save the world, Ghostbuster.”

“Tonight. I’ll be at the bakery.” He called as he started heading up the stairs.

“For the PKE?”

“No, I’m going to take you out on a date!” He cried, leaving you in the basement. You squealed softly, leaning back against the cold wall.

So caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice that his tie was still untucked, shuffling into his jumpsuit faster than he ever had before. Nor did he recognize the smug expression on Ray’s face as he accepted a crumbled bill from an agitated Peter, who, for all his teasing, didn’t think Egon had it in him.

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pockyxx · 3 years

Text

“ seijoh 3rd years as boyfriends ”

oikawa toru x reader, iwaizumi hajime x reader, matsukawa issei x reader and hanamaki takahiro x reader

genre: fluff

oikawa

would be the type of boyfriend to send you those lovey dovey good morning texts

even if they were cheesy as hell you’d know they were sincere

he’d always be there to reassure you when you felt insecure

this includes when you’re insecure about all his fan girls constantly giving him attention

tight hugs

this boy may be scrawny but I know he’d squeeze the life outa you

you’d bully him along with iwa-chan

he’d text you at ungodly hours with new alien conspiracy theories

would take you to instagram-able places for dates

definitely would initiate the cuddles

would force you to wear his jersey on game days

his love language is words of affirmation 100% and will always remind you how much he loves you

“Hurry up shittykawa, you were suppose to be warming up five minutes ago!” Iwaizumi scolded him in the hallway of the recreational center that the volleyball tournament was being held at. Oikawa stuck his tongue out at his childhood best friend.

“So mean iwa-chan, can’t you see I’m with n/n-chan.” He called you by the nickname only he called you. Your cheeks begin to heat up as Iwaizumi had caught you mid kiss. The ace rolled his eyes and went back to join the rest of the team.

“Where were we? Oh right, my good luck kisses!” He snickered, waiting for you to get up on your tiptoes to plant a handful of kisses on his lips.

“You heard him shittykawa, you’re game is starting soon!” You denied him, dragging him towards the court he was to be playing on.

“Not you too!” He whined in an over dramatic fashion yet he couldn’t help but think how cute you looked dragging him, his hoodie draping over your figure perfectly.

iwaizumi

tries to act tough and manly but is really a big ole baby

wouldn’t be much for pda except for the occasional hand holding and waist grabbing

in private tho... this man would cling onto you like no tomorrow

loves when you touch/ play with his hair--its softer than it looks

forces you to watch his godzilla movies but in return you can make him watch whatever you want

his love language is definitely physical touch

he loves idle touches, just feeling your skin against his

walks you home and waits for you to step into your house before leaving

great big bears hugs, no one can tell me other wise

hits the ball extra hard when he knows you’re watching

always wants to know about how your day’s been

You cuddled up to your boyfriend’s side, as his eyes are glued to the screen; as if someone was going to kill him if he looked away. Yawning slightly you lay your head in his lap as you grab his hand to play with his fingers.

You’d lost interest in the plot, finding Hajime’s reactions much more enjoyable. Watching his expressions change from excited to sad to anxious was enough to make you laugh.

“What’s so funny babe?” He looked down at you, finally taking his eyes off the movie. You looked up at him as his larger hand was still in yours.

“You’re really cute Hajime. Did you know that?” You giggled, making his face blush a deep shade of red before he snapped his head away from your gaze.

You sat up, forcing him to lock eyes with you, laughing again at the sight of such a macho man being so flustered just by words.

“Don’t act like it’s a bad thing.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly on his lips, “you’re a softy deep down.”

Iwaizumi’s heart went into overload. He brought you into his arms, in a bone-crushing and laid back down on the couch to finish the movie.

matsukawa

definition of dating your best friend

enjoys listening to you talk about your day

would send you really funny memes in the middle of class just to see you get red as you try to hold into your laughter

your laughter is like music to his ears

loves pda, as long as you’re okay with it

would take you to mcdonalds anytime of the day, just say the words

besides memes and reaction pics, his camera roll would be filled with stupid pictures of you

surprisingly good at cuddling

place things high out of your reach just so you can ask him to get it down for you

silly pet names; like that are overly absurd

he would get involved with your interests/ hobbies or a sport you play

Class was just so boring, especially with your teacher being a rude old fart. You sat near the front and as your sensei wrote something down on the chalkboard you looked behind to catch a glance at your boyfriend, Issei.

He was looking at his phone as per usual, probably messaging his friend Makki in the class next to you. His dark eyebrows had been raised, his lips tugging into a half smile and you could tell he was up to something.

On your desk, your phone buzzed and you could only attribute it to your boyfriend sending you a message. Of course you were right and went to check it out.

matt-sunshine: *attachment one photo* this could be us but you playin

You looked back at him hesitantly but Issei had gone back to paying attention to the lecture. Biting your lips, you opened the picture your boyfriend had sent and you then proceeded to pray that you’d be able to keep your mouth shut.

The picture in question had been two feet mimicking holding hands, except it was toes. For some reason that picture with what Issei had captioned it had sent you over the top. You let a loud, ugly laugh slip past your lips.

As you excepted, your teacher had issued you three days of after school detention for that. You glarred at your boyfriend, upset with him getting you in trouble but it was soon forgiven after he offered to take you out to eat after your detention.

hanamaki

similar to mattsun: he’d be your best friend and lover

when you’re feeling down he’ll do/ say funny thing to make you feel better

you dye each other's hair

lots of teasing on both ends

this boy is always hyping you up no matter the occasion

is mutual to pda, it all depends on how you feel about it

loves to kiss all your ticklish spots just to see you giggle

convos with him would be like you saying something funny, then makki following it up with something even more funny and so forth until you’re both about to pee your pants

no matter what’s happening, he’s got a meme for it

religiously quotes the ‘ily bitchhh, and i ain’t ever gonna stop loving you, bitchhh’ vine when talking to you

You sat in Takahiro’s room, waiting for him to come back up with snacks for your video game session, something you and him took very seriously. You leaned back in the bean bag, thinking about what the loser’s punishment would be and right as an idea popped into your head, your boyfriend walked in.

He placed the candies, chips and sodas on the small coffee table and passed you the Wii remote.

“So my precious booger,” cue the disgusting nickname he swore on his grandfather’s grave was suppose to be endearing, “what will the looser have to do this time?” Takahiro flopped down next to you.

Pressing your lips together, cautiously bringing up what you had in mind. “Loser has to dye their hair hmm... green!” he laughed and agreed to the idea.

The two of your then wiped off the cutesy faces before starting the game: Mario Kart. You looked at him, a competitive glaze coating his eyes. You knew for sure you didn’t want to loose.

After a grueling final race, the winners slides popped up and to your surpirse you were the winner.

Makki threw his control in disbelief, “it’s rigged, I swear!” He huffed, crossing his arms but you only got up in his face, teasing him with your victory.

“Now you’re going to be the booger-head, Hiro!” He rolled his eyes, gentally hitting your face with a pillow before standing up.

“Where are you going?” You wondered, drinking some of the soda he’d offered you earlier.

“That hair dye won’t buy itself.”

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suganovakawa · 4 years

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Hello I wanna say that I love ur work 🥺 I’m new to the haikyuu fandom and ur work gives me life! Can I request a HC with Tanaka, Daichi, Suga & asahi and how they would react when they see other teams at a tournament flirt with you and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you !

absolutely omg i love my karasuno babies and them being jEALOUS??? this is my calling goodBYE

btw btw welcome to the hq fandom bby !! enjoy your stay here 🥺💞💘💓

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 !

karasuno boys fend off other teams as they try to flirt with you !

— check out my masterlist !!

these boys don’t take too kindly to other teams trying to flirt with you . . . and they’re not gonna deal with it for much longer ! >:)

a / n : jealous anything >>>> and you cannot change my mind because it’s my weakness k thx bye 🥰

— ask to be added to my taglist !!

taglist : @yams046 @janellion

ryuunosuke tanaka

lmao flirting w you is like asking for a death sentence i do not make the rules

tanaka is not afraid to show you off , nor is he afraid to show off your guys’ relationship at tournaments either

he has full trust in you dw , but that doesn’t mean he trusts the men that get a little too close for comfort

if his death glare alone doesn’t scare them off i feel so sorry for them

ryu will 100% call someone out if they’re obviously flirting with you

“ hey , punk ??? you’re trying to flirt with them , huh ??? gotta tell ya , you’re out of luck , go find someone else . this hot stuff right here is mine , thank you very much . ”

he gets so confused when you get embarrassed because what ??? he’s just telling them the truth

“ ryu ! you can’t just call me ‘ hot stuff ’ in the middle of the gym !! ”

“ why not , baby ? you are hot stuff ! they’re just bummed out you’re not theirs . ”

not to mention , 8 times out of 10 noya will probably be right there with tanaka scaring off the suitors

those two are literally your bodyguards , and once they know that someone else has their sights set on you , do not expect them to leave your side

also , he holds a FULL GRUDGE against ladies men type people

cough cough tooru i’m talking bout u bby

you are to stay a mile away from oikawa and all of aoba johsai at all times , ryu will not accept otherwise

oh , and terushima ??? YEAH HES NOT EVEN GONNA LAY EYES ON YOU ONCE LMAO

at least , not without tanaka’s arm wrapped around your waist

gotta make sure they understand you ain’t on the market

all in all a very protective baby crow , can and will fight anyone who tries flirting with you so pls don’t test him

daichi sawamura

daichi is definitely the silent but deadly type let me assure you

i don’t care where that man is , he’ll always have an eye on you regardless

oh and he’ll probably have the rest of his team have their eyes on you too ; just in case there is a small instance where he can’t keep his eyes on you

yuu , ryu , and shoyo will be paying the most attention to you when the captain is not able to watch over you at the tournaments

lord have mercy to those who somehow actually get past daichi’s security

my best guess is that you’re probably on like , a water bottle run in between games , so that everyone can have fresh cold water during timeouts n whatnot

yeah you’ll probably get hit on by another guy in the halls ( let’s pretend it’s yuuji because i love him so much LMAO pls hit on me teru )

anyway he’ll def be at your neck like how he was tryna get kiyoko’s number

sadly you can’t do much because you have a bunch of water bottles in your hands so you’re just tryna shimmy away but terushima is not having it

out of nowhere his face blanks

literally pales

you’re about to ask him what that’s about until you feel an arm snake around your waist

like i said , the silent but deadly type

you can’t see daichi’s face as he’s staring down yuuji , but you can hear the annoyance in his voice

“ oh there you are , y/n . you need help carrying these water bottles , baby ? ”

you turn to yuuji , who has his hands up — clearly getting the message daichi was giving to him

“ alright alright , my bad ~ ! didn’t know they were yours , man . i’ll take my leave . ”

but he did add a “ see you later cutie ” before leaving the two of you alone

you couldn’t help but laugh as the captain latched onto you protectively as the two of you went back to the gym

“ daichi , it’s okay , he’s gone now ! you’ve done your job in saving me ”

“ nonsense . i can sense their eyes on you from everywhere . you’re not leaving my sight again , y/n . ”

koushi sugawara

koushi is definitely also a silent jealous type

but he’s more mellow when showing it subtly

but don’t get me wrong , the effect it leaves on others is just as menacing

he’s the type to leave that shiver of fear when he shows up

basically he’s a sweetie until people mess with you and that’s just on periodt

suga is not too protective over you , since he does trust you and has full confidence you won’t do anything to hurt him

cough cough he still wants the other nasty boogers keeping their hands off you though

i literally just imagine him going up to people like “ :))))) ??? ” when people try flirting with you LMAO

like ?? no ??? they’re ??? mine ????

not ???????? yours ??????

he’ll have that chilling ring in his voice that’s deadpan but menacing at the same time — sometimes he even scares you with it

you had a run in with tooru at the preliminaries , RIP bless his soul

you went to go watch a match while karasuno was resting ; seijoh was resting at the same time

he got a little too close for comfort in the audience stand

flashed you a famous smile of his , “ what’s a cutie like you doing here alone ? ”

“ she’s not alone , actually . ”

KFKKDKFKFKD both of your heads went a whole 180 at the sound of koushi’s voice

oh no he had that creepy smile again

“ baby , we were just looking for you . is oikawa bothering you ? ”

he turned his :) to tooru , who had already stepped a decent distance away from you

“ heaven forbid you’d be bothering y/n , oikawa , when you have a whole fanbase of girls you could be bothering instead . ”

the great king had never been so scared of a karasuno player in his life

he left in a hurry without saying much — though he was grumbling something you two couldn’t understand

switch from scary suga to soft suga uwu

he wrapped his arms around you and grinned pleasantly this time as he hugged you

“ sweetheart , don’t hesitate to tell me if anyone else is like that to you , okay ? i’ll make them go away . ”

“ koushi , you’re so scary when you’re angry ”

“ i am ? i didn’t think i was ”

“ look at how oikawa backed away when you came up ! hardly anyone can phase him ”

“ oh . maybe i am scary , but only when it comes to you . ”

he laughed and took you by the hand , and you two walked back to the rest of the team

scary suga never fails to keep the nasty boogers away

asahi azumane

he won’t even realize he’s jealous until someone points it out to him

i think nishi would be the one to point it out to him , because woah asahi looks mad

“ yo , asahi ? you good ? your knuckles are turning white ! ”

he’s been looking your direction ever since the date tech players started surrounding you , striking up conversation

he didn’t even realize yuu was talking to him until he literally had to jump up and wave in his face

asahi snapped out of it once noya caught his attention — his fists were still clenched tho

“ oh — noya . i’m fine , why ? ”

the libero didn’t buy it one bit because he didn’t know the ace even had it in him to be angry

he looked to where asahi had his eyes on the whole time before turning back to the third year with a smirk

“ you’re gonna let them just flirt with y/n like that ? what kind of boyfriend are you ? go go go ! ”

oh no yuu what did you do

“ they’re flirting with y/n ? ”

he was f u r i o u s at the thought of it

oh no no no they were not going to be flirting with you , not while asahi was your boyfriend no sir

he stormed over towards you — your back was towards karasuno so the date tech players noticed him first

asahi + scary dark death glare = run

and the date tech players — besides aone — did just that , scampering off in a hurry

you were confused until you turned around , smiling when you saw your giant teddy bear of a boyfriend

you were utterly oblivious to the stare down between him and aone

“ asahi ! shouldn’t you be practicing now ? ”

he placed a gentle but firm arm around your waist , pulling you closer to him without taking his eyes off date tech’s ace

“ yeah , but we were looking for you . i’ve come to bring you back , y/n . ”

oh heck yeah there was tension as he brought you back to your guys’ court

“ those players weren’t flirting with you , were they y/n ? ”

“ huh ? oh no ! i was just catching up with a couple of them , since i went to middle school with some of them . why ? ”

“ oh , nothing ”

you couldn’t even ask him anything else as he walked away without another word , which was very not like him

you had to get the answer from nishinoya later on , who was laughing hysterically at your description of the way your boyfriend was acting

“ OMG Y/N HE REALLY WAS JEALOUS , I TOLD HIM THAT DATE TECH WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU I CANT BELIEVE HE BELIEVED ME ”

after the tournament both of you were blubbering apologies to each other

you apologizing for making asahi jealous

and asahi apologizing for acting like a brat about it

in summary , asahi + jealousy = pls save yourself from that man he is terrifying

he’ll make it up to you with tons n tons of cuddles later so he’s still your big teddy bear <3

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lunarliza · 4 years

Text

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 1: Popsicles

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

note: so this is my second JJ fic! I’m so excited for ya’ll to read it. it’ll be more light-hearted and shorter than DLS :)

“Come on... come on! This one right here let’s go!” you yelped. The crowd behind you was practically chattering on their fingernails.

The seven year old boy in the water paddled as hard as his lanky arms could take him towards the daunting wave.

“Now Gavin now! Stand up!” you shrieked as the boy hurriedly went through your instructed steps, tucking his knee, and thrusting upwards as the wave got close. Then, before he even realized, he glided rigidly along the wave as the board carried him across the water.

“Hooray! Awesome job Gavin!” The flock cheered and rushed to pat the boy on the back, his dad lifting him up in his arms.

The child scuttled towards you and threw his arms around your neck. You chuckled delightedly. “Alright everyone! That’s it for our surf lesson today. Be sure to check out the gift shop on your way out!”

You waved bye to the guests as they made way to return their boards to the hut, some handing you rolled up cash, with thankful smiles.

Once the coast was clear, you jogged back to the hut only to find Sophia, your best friend and lazy co-worker, lounging with her legs stretched on the checkout counter of the tiny surf shack. She hung a lollipop in her mouth while her eyes glued to her phone screen.

“You know, when you asked me to find you a job, I actually thought you meant one where you actually work.”

Sophia popped out the sucker and threw you a glare. “I did work! See!” she pointed her hand at the sign hanging beside the door that read ‘OBX Surf and Sports’, “I put that sign up this morning.”

“It’s crooked.”

“Bleh, bleh, bleh,” she mocked, “Nothing I ever do is good enough.” You chuckled and shook your head at her.

You peered out the giant window at the front of the store, surveying the empty beach. This was going to be the rest of your summer. At sixteen years old, you were one of the Outer Banks’ surfing all-stars and spent your days working as an instructor for the second year in a row.

Customers loved you and your ability to work with all ages rendering you the title of ‘Top Instructor’ at the shack- which didn’t mean much seeing as 90% of the employees were amateur teenagers.

Nevertheless, you were determined to keep that title, as whoever brought in the most satisfied customers by the end of the summer wins a $5,000 scholarship. And you needed that money bad in order to attend your dream school: UVA.

Along the beach, you caught a glimpse of your competition, Cody, and instinctly groaned.

On any other occasion, you really didn’t care about what people did with their lives, but something about your arrogant, sleazy, five-foot-seven co-worker grinded your gears.

He was always man-splaining to you and the other girls at the shack or kissing ass to your boss. And you knew well he was after the scholarship too- your scholarship.

“Look at him,” you sneered to Sophia as she joined you at the window to death-glare the boy. He was prepping his group on the sand for their session and looked absolutely despicable in his shorts that were inches away from exposing his little one. Emphasis on the little.

“Ugh, he’s making them do jumping jacks again,” Sophia pointed out, crinkling her nose, “God that poor old lady. Can he be any more extra?”

“I need to look away, I think I might vomit if he ever flashed me.”

Your best friend snickered at your hatred as you waxed down your board for your next lesson. “Did the group of girls check in yet?” you asked.

“Yeah, they’re sitting and waiting at Eye Sickles,” she informed, referring to the popsicle food-truck next door. “I can’t believe they really signed up for the month-long surfing program. I didn’t know people actually paid for that.”

“You’d be surprised. These tourists will buy into anything, trust me,” you said before heading out the door.

You walked up to three tourist girls lounging on the fold-out tables and chairs at the food-truck. They were mindlessly typing away on their phones, looking as bored as ever.

“Alright, do I have Annalise, Maia, and Arabella?” you announced with your work-smile on. They peered up from their phones and nodded with blank faces.

“Awesome,” you continued, trying to maintain your enthusiasm, “I’m y/n, I’ll be your instructor! I see you guys signed up for the month-long pro-boarding program which is great. Have you guys ever surfed before?”

“Nope,” a blonde girl replied, “Our parents found this online and said it’d be good for us to learn while we’re here. We’re from Richmond, Virginia.”

“Oh cool!” you jeered, the fake zeal was oozing at that point. “Well, I’m happy to be spending the summer with you guys. I’m going to have you guys grab a board and we’ll head down to the sand to go over the basic motions.”

The trio followed you into the hut and picked out a board from the beginners section. You noticed the blonde one giggling with Sophia at the stand for a bit before joining you on the sand. She had a leader-like quality to her while the two other remained quiet but friendly.

“Alright so, just for formalities, who’s who? That way I can identify you better,” you asked as the girls situated their boards along the shore.

Not shockingly, the blonde extended her hand to you first. “I’m Annalise,” she greeted a little sullenly. You shrugged off her attitude, attributing it to her being a bougie tourist.

“I’m Maia,” a tall, jet-black haired girl said next. She had a very athletic body and came off as the quietest one of the group.

“And I’m Arabella,” the last one chimed in. Her hair was a fiery orange and she had piercings run along her ears and nose.

“Alright cool! So now, we’ll start off with the movements you’ll go through once you hit the water. You want to start off flat on your stomach and paddle towards the waves. Make sure you have full control of your board at all times,” you began as the girls copied your demonstration on their own boards.

You heard sniffles come from the group, but ignored it to continue your spiel. You could hardly read any of their expressions through their giant, bug-eyed sunglasses.

Just as you were about to explain the importance of balance- you favorite part of the lesson- you saw the blonde sit up on her board in irritation and start sobbing through her glasses.

“Annalise come on, it’s not worth it,” the tall one, Maia, reasoned as the Annalise shook her head furiously.

“I can’t do this right now,” she cried before bolting back towards the shack.

You watched her in utter confusion. “Was it something I said?” you asked the remaining two.

The orange one shook her head and gave you a sincere look through her glasses. “No, she’s just really upset about this guy,” she turned to her friend, “Come on, let’s go check on her.”

At that point, you had no choice but to follow the group towards their distressed friend. This was definitely coming out of their session time.

The three of you plowed up the sand to find the girl, Annalise, sprawled on Sophia’s shoulder at the tables as she cooed her like a baby. You wanted to cringe.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a piece of shit anyways! Trust me, he did the same to me too,” your best friend comforted and petted the stranger’s yellow hair.

“What’s going on?” you questioned at the scene. Sophia glanced up at you with a pleading look.

“It’s JJ.”

Oh brother. This dude again. JJ Maybank was the Outer Bank’s most infamous fuck boy. Him and his friends threw parties all the time at the Boneyard- ones you have yet to attend- and he effortlessly earned his reputation by sleeping with any girl he could get his grubby hands on.

By this point, he’s broken half the hearts on the island with girls moaning and groaning about him left and right- Sophia included. You remembered her wailing the day he ghosted her after they did the nasty. It wasn’t a pretty day... or week for the matter.

You didn’t understand what the big deal was with the guy. You’d gone to school with him since the first grade and he’d always been that guy that rolls in the mud during playtime in elementary school. And he still was that guy to this day.

You heard all the cringey lines he’d pull on girls at school that would get them swooning and you swore he was running a voodoo business because no one in their right mind could fall for that.

But everyone did. Except for you.

“What? Did he ghost you too?” you gestured towards the wrecked weeping girl.

She nodded and blew her boogers into the tissues Sophia brought out.

“I-I, well, we met him at a party this weekend and he took me to this little hideout on the beach. He told me that he never met anyone like me before and said all this other shit. Then we had sex there, which I never do in public, and he said he couldn’t wait to see me again. And he never called me after!”

Though you thought her public display was a little too... public, you did feel sorry for her. The guy was a tool, and these tourist girls, especially, didn’t know any better.

“Don’t worry,” Sophia assured, resting a hand atop hers, “he did it to me and everyone at school. We all fell for the trap.”

Maia and Arabella joined the sitting girls in a piled group hug as the ones in the center sputtered in tears together. You couldn’t bear to watch, but for Sophia, you awkwardly joined in anyways.

The rest of the surfing session consisted of the girls pulling up their own chairs and bad-mouthing JJ, along with all other men, as everyone licked their popsicles.

You sucked on your mango one, not minding the little break as it was the easiest $150 you ever made. The girls weren’t as hoity-toity as you first thought. They apologized for wasting your time and promised to leave five-star reviews about you. Even better.

As evening rolled in, you found yourself laughing and joking around with your new-found friends. They told you wild stories of their private school shenanigans back in Richmond while you and Sophia filled them in on life at the OBX.

“This day was incredible,” Annalise beamed, dazed after her fourth popsicle. “Can’t believe we all bonded like this over a guy,” she chuckled, “I just... gah, I wish we could get him back somehow. Make him feel how we feel!”

“You should,” you agreed, “Why don’t one of you guys go to the parties and try to seduce him and then leave him hanging? The trick with men is to withhold sex from them and they’ll be helpless.”

Everyone’s face lit up in excitement at your idea. “No, totally! We could definitely do that!” Sophia exclaimed with wide eyes. “So who will it be? Who’s our hamster?”

“Not me,” Maia objected almost instantly, “I have a boyfriend back home so no seducing will be done on my part.”

“Arabella then,” Annalise suggested, nudging the girl beside her.

“Alright...” she agreed, fiddling with the string of her bathing suit, “I guess I could take one for the team.”

“There we go!” you cheered, “You just march straight into that party, grind on him a bit to leave him hanging, then proceed to embarrass the shit out of him! Problem solved!”

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

note: do not worry! more drama to come

chapter 2

#outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #john b obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n

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poetdreamerfool · 3 years

Text

Strider Hiryuu

get the cake and its see ya wouldn’t want to be ya I don’t even want to be me See the game in 4d But I’m playing in 3 move with purpose because In real life 10 times out of 10 the hare beat the tortoise more flower than florists dodge the emotional tourists the lack of sleep got me feeling porous but I’m still Cooler than mama bear’s pooridge a little Liquid courage and bad pizza high in a low land Chichen Itza watching attack of the killer tomatoes while reading plato I’ll always be myself Simon ain’t gotta say so 1 2 3 ok go I write fire on paper that burn slow get me in the booth and I’ll hit your with that yoga inferno see that boy go see that boy flow grill the game up with a little fire and some j. Coles ironically I’m way cold my Rhyme book is classic like mozart

snapback on backwards like ok Bart-- don’t start play your part the whole world’s stage stay six feet apart or be six feet deep in that grave people think they on social media but its really shadows in caves

the first lie you learn is how you supposed to behave and what to think as you grow up up the best parts of you shrink they feed on envy they want you to wear your green the fuck I look like? Link? don’t blink just keep it pushing like a slinky-- dimes like the boogers off Ren and Stimpy; we turned Lemons into lemonade by living life simply;

kick shit like skip it, flip it like Strider Hiryuu hi boo could I interest you in some revolution? the government ain’t a solution. they peddle in retribution--

nobody: the justice system: mentally I’m here figuratively I disappeared -- a long time ago

Yes or no? A street bushido in an overcoat-- It’s a go no parade watch him float now that’s what they should mean when they say up in smoke.

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crazylittlethingcalledben18 · 3 years

Text

Memories - Pt. 2

DESCRIPTION:: You are a Brian’s sister and a single mom. You, Shawn, and Brian grew up together in Canada. You and Shawn used to be best friends, until he got famous and left. After reconnecting, you both come to realize you want more than just a friendship.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x y/n

Warnings: Language, Possible Smut, & Drinking.

A/N: Welcome to part 2!! Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoy :)

<<>>

You have been at the New Years party for about an hour now and you have successfully avoided a specific head of curly hair. Peter has been sitting in your arms most of the time but you can tell he is getting antsy.

“Bri, I’m gonna take Peter outside so he can run around a little bit.” You tell the intoxicated Brian sitting next to you. He nods his head and you grab your son to head outside.

You weave through the increasingly drunk crowd of people to get to the big glass doors at the back of the house. It’s crazy to think the small, lanky boy you knew is now a world famous rockstar that owns this huge house.

You make your way to the backyard and put Peter down to run around. As you walk over to stand against the wall, you notice there is a group surrounding a certain rockstar. Well, shit.

As if he can hear your thoughts, he looks your direction and you are frozen under his stare. You finally look away as he gets up from his spot, heading your way. Well, double shit.

You pretend you don’t notice his approach as you keep your eyes on Peter.

“Hello, y/n.” Shawn says as he stands a few feet in front of you. You suddenly realize how tall he has gotten as he towers over you.

“Hi.” You simply say as you meet his eyes.

“How are you?” He asks. Oh, so he wants to have a conversation and pretend like nothing happened.

“I’m doing great. How about you?” I may have sugarcoated that answer a bit.

“Oh, well that's great. I'm doing pretty well, just busy with work.”

“I’m sure you are.” Wait, did I say that out loud?

Shawn laughs awkwardly and looks away. You know that was kinda rude but I'm hoping it’s the end of the conversation.

“How old is your son?” I guess we are still talking.

“Almost three- Peter! Come back this way.” You rush over to grab Peter just as he reaches a drink table. You reluctantly take him back to your spot on the wall and set him down on the ground again.

Shawn bends down so he is eye level with your son. “So, your name is Peter?” Peter nods his head and responds in baby language. “That’s pretty cool cause my name is Peter too!” Oh no, here we go.

Were you stupid enough to name your son after the boy you were in love with? Yes. Were you hoping said boy would never find out? Hell yes.

Peter must of thought that was super funny because he started to giggle, until he saw someone familiar behind Shawn. You looks in the same direction and notice Connor coming towards you.

“Hey, I was told by the big man to come get this booger so you two could talk.” He says as he walks up. You look at him wearily. “Don't look at me, I’m just the messenger. Also, I haven't had anything to drink so you don't need to worry.”

Connor smiles as he grabs Peter’s hand and leads him away. Now, you are left staring into a big pair of brown eyes. You realizes how grown up Shawn looks as the lights from the house dance across his face. Not just grown up, but beautiful. He gives you a small smile and you suddenly become very angry. You remember everything that has happened and you can't help but try to hate the beautiful man standing in front of you.

You stare dead into his eyes, determined that you will not be the one to break the silence.

“I’m sorry for not calling.” He simply says breaking you from your daze.

“You should be sorry for more than that.” You spit. Shawn immediately looks confused.

“What else do I need to be sorry for??” He asks innocently. You can’t stop the laugh that comes from your mouth.

“What else do you need to be sorry for? Are you fucking serious?” You ask and he looks at you, clueless. Does he not realize the damage he caused?

“You left me, Shawn. You got one taste of fame and you just left. No calls, no letters, not evening a fucking email. You promised you would always have my back but when things got rough, you abandoned me. You promised we would always have each other, but once all eyes were on you, you decided you didn't need me anymore. You promised that you would come back to me and you never fucking did.”

At this point, you are fuming. There is so many emotions swirling in your head, you just pick the easiest one - anger.

“When you left, I would wait by the phone for hours for a call or text, but they never came. When I heard you were coming to town, I couldn't wait to see you, but you never wanted that. You pushed me away. You saw a little bit of the world and decided you didn't need me anymore. You should be sorry for everything, for leaving and never coming back.”

You take a deep breath and decide you don’t want to stare at the pathetic, gorgeous man in front of you. You push off the wall and begin to walk past him. Not fast enough because he grabs your arm and says, “Don't just walk away like that, please.”

You whip you head around to faced him again, “Don't just walk away?? What, like you did 5 years ago? I thought that was the easiest way to deal with things,” you spit sarcastically.

“Bear, please..” he says softly as he drops his arm.

“Don't you dare call me that.” You say firmly as you step forward so he is now leaning against the wall.

“Please, just let me explain.” He pleads.

Your eyes fill with angry tears as you try to decide what to do - sit here and listen to his bullshit or simply walk away.

Before you can make a decision, he wraps his arms around you and tucks his heads into your neck. You freeze immediately, shocked. You try to push away, but he just squeezes tighter. You can't hold it in any longer and you begin to sob into his chest, refusing to return the hug.

“I’m sorry.” He speaks so quietly, you barely miss it.

You are overwhelmed, you are hurt, you are heartbroken.

“Please, Shawn, I can't do this.” You begin to push away from him again and this time he lets you go, but not before grabbing both of your hands and holding them tightly.

“Please, just let me explain. I promise I will make it up to you.”

Your tears have come to a stop and you find the courage to look into his eyes one last time, “Don't make promises you can't keep.” You simply say before pushing his hands away and turning your back.

You practically run back into the house to find Peter. You probably look like a hot mess to everyone around you but you don't care. You finally find your son with Connor amongst the swaying bodies.

“Hey, are you alright?” Connor looks at you, eyes full of worry.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go. Can you please take me home?” You know it’s a lot to ask but you need to get the hell out of here before you have a full blown break down.

“Yeah, of course. I just gotta get the keys from Brian. I”ll meet you at the front door.” He hands you a tired Peter and runs to find Brian. You hug Peter tight to your chest as you make your way to the front of the house.

Surprisingly, you and Connor make it to the front door almost at the same.

“Ready?” He asks as he holds the door open for you.

You give him a quick nod and head out the door, hoping to leave this house and this night behind you.

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

This is part 4 of my fic for @heyabooboo for the @thewitchersecretsanta.

Welcome to the the longest (and angstiest) chapter of this fic! Compared to the others that are found in this fandom, this is fairly mild, but please heed the tags. And have fun reading!

Summary: Having braved the nightmare of figuring out the meaning of a near incomprehensible poem, one should think that the nightmares of the netherworld come to an end. Alas, Destiny is not as kind. Retracing their steps, Jaskier is taken to the darkest chapters of his and Geralt's lives.

Moodboard by the amazing @petrificustotaluss

Warnings: canon typical violence, we see Geralt and Jaskier’s shitty childhood in here, and the trial of the grasses, but nothing too explicit. Rated T

Read on AO3

It was, admittedly, a bit strange, to say the least, to keep walking backwards with his eyes affixed on the horizon. He extended his arms to get a better balance, still he tripped and stumbled over rocks and tree stumps and thin air. It probably would've been easier with just a glance over his shoulder. But-

'No,' he decided. 'I mustn't lose my goal from sight.' If he was entirely honest, that was probably the most difficult part.

Many people assume that in a netherworld without a physical body they cannot be troubled by such trivial things such as the paltry ache of keeping your eyes open without blinking. That is untrue.

There are some aspects of humanity that are so ingrained into the core of their very being that they cannot imagine a world without it. Boogers, for example, and armpit hair, or sweat. Or the pressing urge to blink.

And no matter how much Jaskier tried to fight it, there was just no hope of escaping the burn.

He blinked.

The scenery in front of him had changed. "What the fuck?" he murmured quietly as he took in the familiar countryside.

It was late in autumn it seemed; most of the trees had already shrugged off their colourful cloaks of withered leaves, though the first snow was yet to come. In front of him, a beautiful keep rose up at the horizon. The walls of limestone were pristine as ever, the red shingles glistening after a recent rain shower, bright banners flapping in the wind. The whole image looked as if plucked from a nightmarish fairy tale. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "Didn't expect I'd end up here of all places." Self-consciously he tugged at the cuffs of his blue silk doublet. Hadn't he been naked?

He decided not to think about that too much and instead be grateful for the armour that would protect him from piecing stares and cutting comments. He had no time for it either, for within the blink of an eye his vision shifted again and he stood within the empty courtyard.

'Strange.' There should be guards. Servants. The Count or Countess perhaps. Instead, there was nothing but eerie quiet and wisps of fog curling around his feet. It was almost enough for him to feel concern rising within hi-

"Julian Alfred Pankratz!" Jaskier froze on instinct, the booming voice bearing down on him like whip lashes.

‘Fuck.’ Twenty years. Twenty years since he had last returned home, and still— His heart was beating frantically in his chest, as if it wanted to jump right out of it. Given his previous experiences in this place, he didn't consider this impossible. 'Shit,' he cursed silently. 'It just had to be Lettenhove, hadn't it?'

He screwed his eyes shut, to drown out the litany of his father, the words nearly indistinguishable through the thick haze clouding his mind, though still drawing closer.

When he finally opened them again and had managed to blink away the bright lights distorting his vision, he realised he wasn't outside anymore. Instead, he was standing in front of a nondescript double door he knew like the back of his hand and had hoped to never see again.

It stood the slightest bit ajar, just so that he could peer inside. There was his father behind his desk, Lord Lettenhove intimidating as always. And- Jaskier frowned.

A little boy standing in front of him, with a mop of brown hair and a silken doublet that looked much like the one Jaskier was wearing. His mouth formed a silent 'O.' He couldn't see the boy's face, nor betrayed his body a single thing, yet he knew that he was crying.

'This isn't real,' he understood. 'This is a memory.'

"Father, please-" the boy begged, but his voice broke and shoulders gave the slightest tremble, the only hint of the terror that stole his and Jaskier's voices alike. 'For the fearless no success,' he reminded himself. 'Well, I'm fucking terrified. I'm getting out of here.'

He wanted to close his eyes so that this strange world would bring him to another place. But they didn't. No matter how adamantly he ordered them to shut, his eyelids didn't budge. 'Poor boy,' a voice in the back of his mind said. 'Poor me. I can't leave like this.'

"Well, Sir?" his father asked coldly. "Don't you have anything to say in your defence?"

Jaskier screwed his eyes shut, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He cursed quietly: "Get it together, Jaskier!" He hadn't dealt with stage fright for nearly thirty years to succumb to fear now. So, he squared his shoulders and passed through the oaken wood of the door.

"Actually, your lordship," he spoke up, "I do."

Lord Lettenhove whirled around and gasped. "You!" he spit out and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Where have you been? Your mother is worried sick."

"She isn't," he said casually and strolled over to his child self. "She never is. Besides, she's been dead for a decade." He went down on one knee to get on eye level with him. "Hello there," he greeted him with a smile he hoped to be reassuring. "It certainly has been a while."

Julian raised his gaze, his eyes puffy and red with tears, the fear lingering even now. For a moment he couldn't help but stare in bewilderment. 'Was it really that bad?' He hadn't even remembered.

"Who are you?" Julian asked.

"A scoundrel," their father huffed indignantly, "and a coward."

Jaskier's smile grew even wider. "He's right," he confessed. "I am you, little one. Just without- this." He waved his hand around vaguely.

Julian's eyes widened even further, his gaze flicking around nervously. Finally, it settled on the lute case. "Are you a bard?" he whispered secretively.

"A failure," their father commented, "a disgrace upon our name."

He ignored him. "Oh no, little one. I am no mere bard. I am an adventurer, a poet, a minstrel. I am all that you dream to be and more. I am Jaskier, the most renowned troubadour of the Continent. But most importantly, I am alive. I am real. And you, my lord," slowly he rose to his feet and turned to their father, "are nothing."

"Excuse you?" he gasped. "You will take that back, young man."

"No," he answered calmly. "I don't think I will. I was taught to always tell the truth, so tell the truth I shall. And that truth is that you, father, are not deserving of any obedience or respect a son owes his parents. And least of all love."

Lord Lettenhove sneered. "You are no son of mine," he spat out and for a moment those words were enough to make Jaskier tense up. He could well remember when he had heard them—and seen his family—the last time. He could still taste the despair on his tongue, the tears running down his cheeks, the overwhelming urge to beg-

"No," he interrupted the spiral of hopelessness that threatened to drag him away. 'I have reimagined my memories hundreds of times. I can do it again.' He straightened his back and raised his chin. "No, Alfred, I am not. You wish you had a son like me."

"I do not-"

Jaskier scoffed and turned his back to him. He had spent far too much time listening to his father in his life already, he did not plan on doing it any longer. "Hey, Julian," he said instead, "do you want to hear a poem? How about a limerick?"

The Count de Lettenhove gasped indignantly: "Julian, how- Such verses are beneath us."

"And they are above your intellect," he retorted with a wink at Julian. "Let's see, I think I've got a good one:

There once was a Countlet named Alfred,

Whose aim was to cause fright and dread.

He thought himself smart

For he despised the arts,

Alas, he was dumber than bread."

Julian's eyes gleamed and he snickered. Well. He considered that a good start. "Another?" he challenged and the boy nodded eagerly. "How about this?

There once was a Redanian Countess

Who was famed for her martial prowess.

She boasted she taught

Her son to wield a sword,

But was beaten by a pigeon at chess.”

Giggling, Julian almost didn't look scared anymore. "A last one, yeah?" Jaskier proposed and he nodded eagerly. "This one I know from a friend. Ready?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Alright." He cleared his throat and said with as much dignity and gravitas as possible: "Lambert, Lambert, what a prick."

By now Julian was laughing openly, nearly doubling over with the force of it. 'There,' Jaskier thought with a satisfied smile, 'that's better.'

He blinked.

The road that led through the early-summer forest was empty except for a cart disappearing in the distance. Jaskier frowned and turned around. What on earth had led him here? As far as he could remember it, he had never seen that place before. Plus, there was no-one around.

Maybe he was just supposed to follow the road. With a shrug Jaskier decided that was as good a guess as any and began walking. He hadn't gotten far when he heard the prattling of tiny feet behind him. "Ma?" a young boy shouted. "Ma!"

Jaskier wanted to keep on walking. He didn’t know this boy, so this hardly concerned him. He rally tried to keep on walking. Really. But something made him turn around. Maybe the fear in the boy's cry: "Ma!" Probably the sob when he yelled: "Visenna!"

The boy couldn't be any older than seven years at most, probably he was younger still, and there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. "Ma?" he asked again.

"Sorry, buddy," Jaskier said. "No-one around but me."

"But- She said- She told me to get water," he stammered. "She was thirsty."

"Oh." His heart sank. What was he even supposed to tell him? That she was surely coming back? That was a lie, no mother left her child in the woods with the intention of coming back. He had seen it often enough in the past. Mostly it was because of hunger, or sickness, sometimes just good old poverty as well. Some of the children were believed to be cursed, or changelings, or whatever other thing humans came up with to keep hurting each other.

This child, however, did not seem to fit any of the categories. He looked almost disturbingly boring. He was well-fed and properly clothed as well, a healthy blush on his cheeks. Jaskier had no idea what had led the mother to abandon him out here. "I'm sorry," was the best he managed. The boy's lower lip wobbled dangerously. 'Please don't start crying,' Jaskier begged whichever higher power was listening. He was shit with children; he couldn't handle a crying one. "What's your name?" he asked, trying to prevent the inevitable.

"Geralt," the boy answered with a frail voice.

"Oh," Jaskier said again. 'Oh, fuck,' he thought. No wonder he didn't recognise the memory—it was taking place over half a century before he was even born. "Geralt," he repeated stupidly. Geralt as a child. Geralt before the trials. Geralt who had, presumably, just been abandoned before heading to Kaer Morhen. Geralt who was just about to cry.

'Shit.' He had to do something. And fast. "Well, Geralt, I'm glad that I stumbled upon you here. I couldn't imagine braving the way through this wilderness on my own."

The boy frowned—an expression that looked much cuter on this Geralt than on the one Jaskier was acquainted with. "I know you," he decided after a few moments.

"Yes," he agreed. "You will. Come, I tell you a story while we walk."

He started walking into the direction the cart had left. Boy-Geralt hurried to catch up with him and slipped his hand in his. "You look funny," he remarked.

Jaskier snorted. "It's called fashion, thank you very much." He regarded him with a fond, wry smile. "I'm glad not everything about you changes once you grow up."

"Are you a prince?" Geralt asked as if Jaskier hadn't said anything at all. 'The selective deafness isn't new either, I see.'

"Not quite," he answered honestly. "I am a Viscount, but that's unimportant. You will know me as a bard and the most annoying creature in existence."

"A bard?" he asked excitedly, skipping along next to him. "I will know a bard? Will you sing songs of me? Will we be friends?"

"All of that and more," he chuckled. "Although you won't always be grateful for it."

"I can't imagine that." They walked barely two paces in silence before Geralt asked: "Will I be a knight? Will I slay a dragon? Is that why I will know you?"

"No," Jaskier answered as kindly as he could. "You will save a dragon. As a witcher."

"A witcher?" Geralt's eyes went wide in horror. "No, that can't be! Witchers are scary!"

"Well, you can be very scary," he agreed. "But most of the time you aren't. You see, there was this one time when we were travelling and you found a dog. It was old, and had a broken leg and had been left to die in the woods. But instead of killing it, you set its bone, heaved it onto your horse's back and found a place for it to stay. You weren't with me then, but a few years later I visited the same town and it was still there, hale and hearty."

He glanced down at the boy to check if he had the boy’s attention. Of course, he had; Geralt was practically hanging on his lips. "Oh, or that other time when you were hired to slay a troll and we chose to remigrate him instead. Sounds easy enough, right?"

Geralt nodded.

"Well, it wasn't. You see, while trolls are certainly smarter than... drowners, let's say, they are not terribly intelligent. We tried talking to him, wasted half a night while doing so—because we couldn't remigrate him during the day, since you were supposed to kill him—until we managed to explain to him that he should get up and follow us. It worked until we reached another bridge where he had lived previously, as it seemed. He decided he might just as well live there again, and then we had to remigrate him again." Jaskier laughed at the memory. "I think we repeated that four times at least. And didn't even get paid in the end, can you believe that?"

"Another," Geralt begged eagerly. "Please, tell another one.

"Alright," Jaskier agreed. And so, he did what he did best: singing Geralt of Rivia's praises. He talked until his throat was raw, and kept on talking after that. Only when the sun set and Geralt fell almost asleep on his feet, did they seek out a place to rest.

They found a nice dry spot next to a stream, just like Geralt would teach him almost a century from now. Jaskier dug a pit to start a campfire, as Geralt collected firewood, and dug out some dried rations from his pack, that had miraculously appeared along the way. Once they were both sated, he laid his bedroll out for the boy and took the first watch. Well, the only watch, more like it.

He leaned against a log they had dragged onto the clearing together, plucking idly at his lute strings to accompany an old lullaby he half-remembered his nursemaid singing. Satisfied, he watched as the boy fell asleep and only then, finally, did exhaustion wash over him. He felt so drained, from walking for what felt like weeks without a break. He'd just set his lute down and rest his eyes for a little bit and—

He blinked.

"Get out!" the innkeeper barked and Jaskier sprung to his feet. "Get out, you useless bastard! And don't bother coming back in."

"Fuck," he cursed quietly as he lunged to catch the man—boy, really—that was about to land face-first in the mud. Too late. The Oxenfurt graduate was already eating dirt. And not moving. Well, that was concerning. "Are you alright?" Jaskier asked.

"Ow," the boy groaned, still without so much as lifting his head.

He flopped down next to his younger self with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. Bruised ego hurts like shit. But no broken bones at least, eh?"

"This time."

He winced. He'd forgotten how shitty it had been before he had become famous. "You need to get up," he told him without too much empathy. Whining would get them nowhere. "You'll ruin your doublet else, and we both know that you don't have the coin for a new one. No-one likes a dirty bard." Besides, they had to greet a witcher in the very same get-up not quite two months from now.

"I hate you," Julian-Jaskier grumbled as he got himself into a sitting position.

"You hate the world and think that's the same as hating yourself and everyone around you," he corrected him. "There's a difference." He had also forgotten his dramatics of his teenage years, it seemed. Not that he was keen to remember them.

The bardlet rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. "What do you want? I really had a shitty day and don't need a visit from... what even is this? Future me?"

"Something like that," Jaskier grumbled. "Believe me, I'm not thrilled to be here either."

"Then go away."

"Can't," he explained. "Not until I help you... or something."

"Help me?" He snorted. "How are you supposed to help me?"

The thing was, Jaskier wasn't quite sure either. There really was no helping him; he had no money to give and besides, that wouldn't make much of a difference either. It never had, not until he stole the lute from the drunk disgrace of a bard in a month, at least. Wait a minute-

"A lute!" he exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"I have a lute, I can give it to you," Jaskier babbled excitedly and scrambled to his feet.

"And how's that going to help me?" Julian-Jaskier asked sceptically.

"Performances, you idiot! No-one wants to listen to just a bard; everyone loves bards with lutes. It's right— shit." He grabbed his lutestrap to find— nothing.

"What?" he scoffed. "Lost it or something?"

"What? Lost it?" He laughed nervously. "No, that's ridiculous. I just, um—" He started patting down his breeches, as if he might have hidden it there. "—misplaced it, that's it." He turned on the spot, searching the ground. He had just put it down when Geralt had gotten tired and— "Fuck!"

"You lost it?"

"I lost it."

Julian-Jaskier laughed. Actually laughed. "What?" he asked when he saw Jaskier's resentful glare. "Don't tell me you've stopped looking on the bright side of life."

"How is this the bright side?!"

"Oh, I don't know," he flashed him a wide grin. "I actually consider you losing the lute you wanted to gift—"

"Lend!"

"—yourself rather funny."

"Ughh!" Jaskier exclaimed and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You are a brat." He had no time for that. He needed to go back to Geralt and get the lute. He blinked. Nothing happened. He blinked again. And again, and again, and again, and again. Nothing. "Fuck!"

Julian-Jaskier grinned even wider. "You do realise the comedic potential in this scene, right?"

"I don't care about the comedic potential! I just want my fucking lute!" He turned away from the annoyance—really, how Geralt had allowed him to travel with him was beyond him. Oh right. He hadn't—and stared at the sky. "Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You there, looking at all of this! Coram Agh Tera? Wade? Well, whatever your name is, you wanker, take me back to the previous one! I need my lute!"

Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, there was the barely stifled snorting laughter of Julian-Jaskier in the background, but he decided to ignore that, so it was basically nothing. "Come on, mate! I just forgot my lute! How am I supposed to help this one without a lute?"

Still no answer.

"You know, I don't really think this is going to work," Julian-Jaskier quipped.

"Shut the fuck up, you midget. I know that!"

He sighed and finally got to his feet, grimacing as he took in the ruined fabric of his breeches. "I'm sure there's another way to help me besides conjuring up your lute from thin air."

"Well, probably," Jaskier hissed, "but in any case, I'd really like my lute back. It's my lute, alright, I'm attached to it. I get it three months from now and I want it back! Right now! Right here in my hands!"

The weight was sudden and entirely unexpected, so Jaskier actually stumbled a bit. Flabbergasted, he stared down at Filavandrel's lute in his hands. "Oh," he said simply. "I suppose that works."

Julian-Jaskier looked very stupid when surprised. 'Gods, I hope I don't look like that,' Jaskier prayed. Given that his looks had barely changed since that day, however, he didn't have all too high hopes. "How did you do that?" the bardlet asked.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "I just wished really hard to have a lute."

"Brilliant." His eyes gleamed. "Do you think I can do that, too?"

"No," he answered simply and thrust the lute into his hands. "Just go and do your fucking performance. I have places to be."

"Alright, alright!" Julian-Jaskier agreed and took off running towards the tavern.

'I should really do something about the dirt,' Jaskier thought as he took in the mud-caked seam of his pants.

He blinked.

The dirt was gone.

Julian-Jaskier looked down at himself and grinned. "Thank you!" he shouted back over the pristine shoulder of his doublet and vanished inside.

He blinked.

His surroundings melted away once more and rebuilt themselves in a town square. Jaskier frowned, trying to remember if it looked familiar. He didn't think so, though it was hard to tell. After the first hundred or so, they all started to blur together.

What was strange, though, were the people. There were quite a lot of them and he didn't recognise any of them. 'Weird,' he thought. Come to think of it, he wasn't quite sure he had even seen their clothes before. It reminded him of the garb his parents and grandparents used to wear when he'd been a child. It had to be one of Geralt's memories, then.

The faint ringing of swords filled the air as terror gripped him. "Oh no," Jaskier whispered hoarsely as his surroundings shifted again in a nauseating whirl.

He blinked.

Even before he saw the woman's corpse he knew exactly where—or rather when—he was. Geralt had never told him of this story, not really, at least. But he had heard rumours, and then, after meeting the witcher, had gathered as many stories as he could to find, to get to the truth at the core of it.

"Incredible," an old, bearded man said as he knelt at her side. "Marilka," he said and stumbled to his feet. "Marilka? Marilka! Get me a cart. We'll take her to the tower for an autopsy."

Jaskier felt the overwhelming urge to punch Stregobor in the face. He probably could have. He probably should have. But before he had a chance, there was a bloodied blade at the mage's throat. "If you touch a single hair on her head," Geralt growled, "yours will be on the ground next." It was Geralt, quite obviously so. Still, he looked different. Younger, in a way. Much less guarded than the man he knew, with a wild look in his eyes Jaskier had never seen before.

"Have you gone mad?" Stregobor asked. "Her mutation, it influences people. That's how she got these men to follow her." His eyes narrowed just a bit. "She got to you, too, didn't she?"

"Do not," Geralt snarled, "touch her."

"Witcher," the mage answered in the most condescending voice imaginable and, oh, Jaskier definitely would punch him now, "you butchered bodies in the streets of Blaviken."

"You're a beast," a man called from the crowd.

"You endangered the girl," a woman added and Jaskier decided that all of them could bugger off, thank you very much.

"I think this is quite enough," he said calmly as he stepped forward, shifting in front of Geralt as time came to a halt. "Lower your sword, dear. Please."

The witcher stared down at him in confusion. "What-" He blinked a few times and his gaze cleared. "Jaskier," he whispered.

"The very same," he said and bowed with a flourish. "The sword, love." He squeezed his hand lightly and watched with relief as Geralt did as he was told. "Let me take care of this mess for you."

The witcher nodded and the world started spinning again. "Good people of Blaviken," he began and opened his arms. The familiar weight of his lute appeared much faster than the first time. "You can count yourselves lucky, for on this day you are in the presence of not only the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia, but also the master bard Jaskier. Truly, you are in for the performance of a lifeti-"

"Jaskier," Geralt hissed quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

"This is not really the place for a performance." He pointed at the corpses and the townspeople who stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Ughh. Right. And then there was also-

"Who do you even think you are?" puffed Stregobor.

"Jaskier, the bard, and I don't like repeating myself," he quipped. "So, I suggest you shut the fuck up, old man." Immediately, his mouth snapped shut. Still, Jaskier wasn't finished: "You are a bumbling idiot who keeps babbling about some mutation nonsense. It's not her fault that you have the charisma of a wooden spoon and lack any kind of imagination. Really, it is not that hard to believe that a woman could inspire people. You are a pitiful creature."

The people around him still stared in open-mouthed bewilderment. "Close your mouth, dear, I'm not done, yet," he told Geralt and tipped his jaw up. He really should do something about all the bodies.

Jaskier frowned, concentrating hard. Shrouds appeared from thin air and covered the corpses and the blood vanished from Geralt's face. "Jaskier," the witcher growled, annoyed. Alright, maybe he had overdone it with the flower crown, but this was a dream world; when would he ever get such a chance again? "Focus."

Right. Not his strong suit, but he had a performance to deliver. And that was very much his strong suit. Gently, he plucked at the lute strings, the notes almost manifesting before he did so. "When a humble bard," he began; the song came as easy to him as breathing.

The audience didn't seem too enthusiastic. It took him until the end of the first refrain to realise why. "Oh," he said, his lute making a dissonant twang. "I suppose I'm just about two decades early with this, aren't I?" Of course. How could he have been so stupid? 'Well, only one way to change that.'

"Toss a coin to your Witcher," he sang loudly, "Oh, valley of plenty

Oh, valley of plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

Oh, valley of plenty!"

He blinked.

The wind tugged at him to the tune of a camp being set up. Jaskier knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. "Ah," he breathed, taking in the silhouette of Geralt sitting on the rock. And his own self approaching him. "Shit." He winced in sympathy for his heartbroken, aching self. Well, not heartbroken yet, but soon to be.

He wasn't surprised, to be honest. Not really. But fuck was he afraid of it. With all the other scenes he'd had at least a semblance of an idea of how to fix them. But this? He couldn't really change himself, could he now?

In the end, it had all worked out just fine, of course. Geralt and he had found each other again and after a bit of awkwardness and a muttered apology by Geralt they had continued travelling with each other again. While his witcher definitely wasn't a man of words, Jaskier could see his remorse just fine. He was fluent in all of Geralt's silences, and the plethora of gifts and smiles he got was better than any spoken apology in the world.

Still. It hurt.

Geralt shifted a bit, hearing his footsteps. Jaskier had to do something, and fast. "That's not really going to cut it," he muttered. His blubbering, yearning self wasn't going to be of any more assistance now than the last time. "Sorry, mate, but you have to go." With an ever so quiet pop the other Jaskier vanished.

It earned him a gruff Geralt grunt. "Jaskier," the witcher said without even turning around. "What do you want?"

'Alright, so we're doing this,' he thought and did his best to steel himself. "Nothing but a chat, old friend," he tried to say as casually as possible and sat down next to him. "Just like the good old days, hm?"

"Hmm."

"Funny. I thought you'd say that," he replied in a feeble attempt at comedy.

Geralt rolled his eyes, but didn't manage to hide the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth quite fast enough. "Jaskier."

"Not helping?"

"Hmm."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah, didn't think so."

He waited with bated breath for his witcher to say something, but apparently, he considered their conversation done. 'Looks like I have to talk myself out of this mess,' he thought. 'Like always.'

Time to put his money where his mouth was: "Look," he said and wet his lip with his tongue. "I know how it feels when people die. It's always hard. And it doesn't get any easier the more it happens."

"Your point, bard?"

He closed his eyes. He still didn't have any fucking clue on how to solve this. Only one way to go, then: "I have a proposition for you I already know the answer to. But—" He took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm his violently beating heart. "It's all been a bit much, lately, yeah? All these... djinns and children of surprise and dragons. So, why don't we get away for a while? We could head to the coast."

Geralt snorted. "Never took you for the maritime type."

"Well, I'm not," Jaskier answered, glad for the tension to lift, if only a little. "I get horribly seasick, you see? But that's not the point."

"Then what is?" They were going for the fond annoyance, apparently. It certainly was an improvement to last time.

It also loosened Jaskier's tongue; he could barely keep himself from babbling and that really wouldn't make it better. "Life's too short to spend it being unhappy. You should do what pleases you while you can."

"Composing your next song?" And there it was. The moment he'd inevitably fuck up.

"No, I just, uh-" He let his head drop. "I'd say I'm just trying to figure out what pleases me, but that's a lie. I figured that out a long time ago."

"Sleeping with other people's spouses is not really a life goal, Jaskier."

"Oh, ha ha," he retorted. "Very funny. But that's not— That's not what I'm talking about."

"What, we still haven't reached the fucking point?" he asked with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"No, I— Gosh, this is harder than I thought. It's you, Geralt. You're what pleases me."

The witcher turned to him with incredibly wide eyes despite the frown. As if he was surprised. As if he couldn't fathom why Jaskier would say that.

He shrugged. "It's true. I'm never as happy as I am at your side. Just spending time with you. You're the most important person in this world to me. In any world, really. I couldn't— I cannot bear losing you. Maybe it's selfish, but I just— I just want to have you for myself for a bit. Not share you with those who are hellbent on killing you. Not share you with anyone."

"Hmm." Geralt tilted his head to the side, a curious look Jaskier couldn't quite decipher in his eyes. In all the years of their acquaintance he had never, ever looked at him like that.

"Just— let me show you?" he begged. "Please? I know it's not what-"

But Geralt didn't let him finish. "Alright," he interrupted him. "Tomorrow."

He blinked.

Geralt stood a few feet away with Borch and Yennefer. "The sorceress will never regain her womb," he caught the last remnants of their conversation. "And though you didn't want to lose her, you will."

"He already has," Yennefer answered with a frail voice and stormed away. Jaskier scrambled to his feet when she passed him, catching Geralt's longing gaze.

'Shit,' he thought. This would be heartbreak all over again. 'It always was going to be.'

Geralt looked down at Borch. "Hmm," he said and trudged over to Jaskier. "The coast, you said?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered.

"Hm." He shouldered past him and grumbled: "They better have some good fucking ale there." After a few steps he realised that Jaskier wasn't following him and turned around. "You coming?" he asked with an outstretched hand.

"I am," he replied and scrambled to catch up with him. "In my experience, they also have excellent vodka," Jaskier joked and grasped Geralt's hand tightly.

He blinked.

It was a clear day on the cliffside. The ocean stretched out to the horizon in all its deep, dark blue glory, its waves crashing gently on the rocky shore. "Oh," Jaskier simply said.

"Hmm," Geralt replied and draped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

'This is so much better than being here alone,' he thought. "It's beautiful," he said.

"It's nice," Geralt said. From the witcher that was probably as poetic as it got. And, oh, that curious look in Geralt's eyes looked even better with a smile accompanying it.

A warm feeling filled his chest. 'I really could get used to this,' he thought. "There's another thing, Geralt," he blurted suddenly. "I lo-"

He blinked.

The world turned upside down. He cursed himself for being so fucking stupid. Because, of course, he had not only ruined the probably single-most romantic scene to confess his feelings for Geralt, the worst also, apparently, was still ahead of him.

Jaskier had never been to Kaer Morhen before. Geralt hadn't even trusted him enough to betray so much as the smallest detail of its location. Still, there could be no doubt as to where he had ended up this time. Not with the vials and jars and jugs full of dubiously coloured liquids. Not with the witcher and mage looming over the scene, whose presence Jaskier barely registered.

All he saw were the wide, terrified, hazel eyes of the boy straining against the shackles tying him to the table. "No," Geralt begged, "please, Vesemir, I can't."

"Yes, you can," the old witcher answered. "It'll be over before you know it."

"No," Jaskier whispered, his eyes widening in horror. "No, I won't let that—"

He blinked.

Vesemir was gone, though Jaskier thought he might hear the distant sound of retching. The mage was still there, mumbling quietly in Elder.

"No!" he shouted again and leapt forward to push him back, to get him to stop, to- His hands passed right through him. As if he wasn't even there. As if he was a ghost. "No, stop, I won't-!"

He blinked.

The pain hit him completely unprepared, punching the air from his lungs. Wheezing, Jaskier staggered on his feet. He felt himself reminded of his first meeting with Geralt. Only that this time it didn't stop.

He could feel the burn of the toxins in his veins as his blood rushed, his body twisting, fighting, transforming. The boy on the table strained against his shackles, his mouth open with a silent plea he could not utter.

Jaskier could, though. Blinding pain ripped through his body as his knees gave out beneath him. A horrible scream erupted from his mouth, agony consuming any semblance of humanity.

After what seemed an eternity the pain ebbed off again; the burning fire in his body still pulsing, threatening to come back.

"No," Jaskier whispered, his vision still clouded from agony, but Geralt was still there. Had to still be there. "I won't let you suffer."

White hot pain surged again. "No!" he commanded, cried, sobbed. "No... Please—!" He screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, until his throat was sore, raw, burning. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he could no more and Geralt and he were coughing up blood.

The pain flared and Jaskier's voice gave out. 'I can't do this any longer.' He didn't- He couldn't- He couldn't talk. 'But I don't need words to imagine.'

With a trembling hand he reached out, strained until his fingertips grazed over Geralt's arm— And collapsed. Jaskier sobbed, and thrashed, and curled himself up into a little ball, suddenly wishing for the same chains Geralt wore. That way he had at least something to hold onto. Jaskier had nothing.

Nothing but pain.

An agonised whine sounded from above him. Jaskier whimpered. He wanted to reach out, wanted to soothe him, wanted to— But he couldn't. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he barely could think as the world flickered around him. He wasn’t strong enough.

He sobbed. ‘No,’ he thought. 'No, it can’t end here, I can’t wake up yet, I need to stay— I need it to make it stop for him. I need to, I have to, I must.'

He braced himself. The world flickered again. A soft sound of music floated down to him, a chant in Elder. For the next onslaught he was ready. As ready as one could be. He breathed in, let the pain fill him until it almost became too much. 'No,' he decided. Then again, more forceful: 'No! This is not who you are.' The pain twisted and churned in his gut, like liquid fire, but he would take it. He would take it all, if need be.

'You are human.' A second voice joined the first in its chant. He ignored them both. His eyes shut as tightly as he could, Jaskier imagined, flickering reality be damned. An incredible feeling rushed through him. Like flying. Suddenly, it was almost easy. He didn't imagine the pain away, that was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine it differently instead. He could imagine rightful anger, or heartfelt grief; and even a tiny sliver of hope.

'You are kind.' He could imagine laughter and tears, embraces and kisses and smiles. He could imagine songs and poems and jokes. Friendship and love and family. He could imagine dragons, knights and mages, queens, kings, and children of surprise. He could imagine bards and horses, elves, selkiemores, djinns.

'You are worthy of all good things in life and more.' He couldn't imagine the pain away. That was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine so much else that the pain became insignificant.

He didn't know when it stopped, or why. Jaskier opened his eyes and looked at his hands. He tilted his head to the side. Something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was different. He hadn’t even noticed how transparent he had been before. But he wasn’t anymore. He looked just as real as his surroundings.

Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt's eyes, glaring gold in the dark. "Thank you," he whispered.

He nodded shakily and rose up on his knees.

He blinked.

A voice behind them spoke up: "Again."

Jaskier stood on his trembling legs. "No," he commanded. "Enough."

The mage attempted to step forward. Jaskier glared at him and the man stopped, frozen with one foot in the air. "No," he repeated, "you have no power here. You are a memory, a dream, a fantasy. And I do not want to continue this dream!" With every word the air around them began vibrating, as the feeling filled him again. It felt like floating.

"Get lost!" he yelled. The door flung open, frozen air coasting in. "You are not welcome here."

He took a step forward and the mage stepped back, his form flickering. "You never were, and never will be. Get lost"

"Who do you think you are?" the mage scoffed. "With what magic do you think you can best me?"

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "I am Geralt's friend," he declared. The ground shook with every step he took. "I am no mage, no witcher, no Child of Elder Blood. Just a bard with a lute. Just a man with an imagination.” The calm feeling within him dissipated, a storm brewing within his stomach. Not like liquid fire, but like frozen lightning. The air around him thrummed, wind swirling through the laboratory. “And I told you to get. LOST!"

"No," the mage wheezed, "you can't-" His body flickered again. And flickered. And blinked out of existence.

"How dare you?" the Count de Lettenhove boomed, looming up dangerously before him. "My own-"

"GET LOST!" Jaskier yelled. He vanished and his mother appeared in his stead. "Get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost!" With every word he said another ghost appeared in the chamber. Stregobor, Yennefer, Renfri, his brother, his sister, Queen Calanthe, Visenna. Faces he knew like the back of his hand and others he had never seen before blurred together before his eyes in a nauseating whirlwind of impressions.

He sobbed and thrashed and laughed as he banished each and every one of them to whatever circle of hell they had crawled forth from. Floating, flying, his mind clawing at the edges of the reality he rewrote. The castle around him trembled and shook like his knees, stones and memories collapsing, falling, vanishing before crushing them. He was at the eye of the storm, clouds of wind and darkness swirling around him, interspersed with lighting. It hurt, it burned, it stung, but he did not stop. Could not stop. Would not stop.

Until it was over.

Jaskier hadn’t even noticed it. He probably never would have noticed if not for the boy tugging at his hand. "It's pretty."

"What is?" Jaskier mumbled weakly. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. It took him a while to process the beautiful winter landscape that stretched out before him. It looked like it had been plucked straight from a storybook. It had everything it needed: a lake, covered with a thick layer of ice, an orchard adorned with icicles, a hill to go sledding. Picture-perfect.

Well. A storybook where the snow was green, the trees purple and the sky orange, eternally stuck in sunset with no sun to be seen.

Still. It looked beautiful. Serene, even. Even more magnificent than he had imagined. "Thank you," he answered, his voice much quieter than the enthusiastic child's on his other side. "I'm Jaskier," the boy said.

The boy on his right smiled widely and extended his hand: "Geralt."

"That's a nice name." Child-Jaskier shook it excitedly. "I can already tell that we're going to be the best of friends."

"That would be nice," Geralt answered.

"What do I do now?" Jaskier and Jaskier asked.

"Hmm." Geralt frowned, apparently thinking hard. "Do you know how to build a snowman?"

"I do," they replied.

"I never built a snowman."

"Come," child-Jaskier said and tugged on his hand. "I'll show you."

Jaskier watched the two boys slip down the hill on their butts. He watched them run to the lake, watched them build a green snowman. He was relieved, he realised. Relieved, to see them happy. Still, the question remained: 'What do I do now?'

"Man," a bored voice next to him made him whip around. The dandelion yawned. Made a yawning sound. Whatever. "I already told you what to do."

"You!" he raised an accusatory finger. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, man," it sighed heavily. "This is your dreamworld."

"Fuck," he muttered. "Can't you at least help me figure out the rest of the poem?"

"I already did. Just follow the instructions. Follow—"

“—your heartbeat to the horizon, then take the second turn right after the battle field, I know,” he grumbled. “Have I reached the horizon yet?”

“I don’t know,” it responded. “Have you?”

“Probably not,” he sighed. “Will you come with me while I continue?”

“Can you imagine that?”

He smiled and began walking again. “I guess I can.” They journeyed in silence for a while. But try as he might, the horizon didn’t seem to come any closer. Jaskier groaned loudly; he really should have guessed that there was another mystery to that. "Hey, you!" he shouted at the sky. "Coram Agh Tera, can you hear me? Wasn't I done with the nightmares?"

No response.

Well, almost none. "He really is an idiot," Valdo-larkspur mocked. "The sky talks as little as the trees."

Jaskier chuckled and raised his finger. "For the record, I knew you'd say that."

"Alright, braggart, don't flatter yourself," Jaskier-larkspur joined in.

"That, too," Jaskier said but the two of them didn't hear him, already too engrossed in a discussion about some trivial nonsense.

'Alright, focus, Jaskier,' he told himself again. He had been forcing the brain fog from his mind entirely too often in the near past; it was getting harder and harder every time. And the noise of two bickering idiots behind him didn't make it any easier. On the contrary, with all the distractions he could already feel the fidgety-ness approaching.

'Ughh.' He'd never figure it out at this rate.

What Jaskier didn't see, of course, was that he already had done so a rather long time ago. But like I said, mortals are, first and foremost, fundamentally blind. Their imagination reaches only as far as the horizon, even that of a poet as accomplished as Jaskier.

In hindsight, his blindness was truly a blessing. If he had discovered that there was absolutely no need for him to brave the latter stages of his nightmares, his rage might have been sufficient to shake him from his slumber. And then where would we have been?

So, he had no choice but to figure out the mystery that was no mystery at all all over again.

"Could you two shut up?" he snarled at the larkspurs. "If you're not going to help me, you can at least be quiet!"

"Well, someone got off on the wrong foot," Valdo-larkspur quipped.

"Yeah," Jaskier-larkspur agreed. "And for the record, we did help you. We gave you instructions. It's not our fault if you're too much of a fool to follow them."

Jaskier frowned. "Fool?" he breathed. 'And when they’re gone the fools remain,

A garden grows with no sustain.'

"Hey!" the buttercup complained. "You shouldn't be so mean to him. He's doing his best."

"Oh, yeah?" the larkspurs taunted. "His best isn't very good then, huh?"

"Man, just leave him alone," the dandelion joined in and before he knew it, the four of them were arguing viciously.

Jaskier paid them no mind. He glanced around warily, trying to parse out whatever 'no sustain' meant. It couldn't be anywhere around the lake, then, nor the lilac forest. The blue mountains were an option, but he didn't think it likely.

'Come descend into the sky.'

He tipped his head up to the sky above. 'It's empty,' he realised. No sun. No clouds. No nothing. But descend into the sky? He couldn't imagine that. Could he?

A faint smile spread on his face.

'How to find my mighty throne?

The answer’s plain: you don’t.'

"So, it was that simple, huh?" he said to no-one in particular as he stretched out a hand to touch the invisible barrier of the horizon, still impossibly far away. “The second turn to the right, is it?” he murmured and turned into the direction of the blue mountains, keeping one hand still on the skyline.

"Well, would you look at that," a gruff voice said as the lark landed on his shoulder, "the weirdo actually knows how to follow instructions."

"You again," he deadpanned. "How did you get here?"

"I flew. Obviously."

"Obviously," Jaskier echoed stupidly.

"So," the lark said and picked at the feathers under its wing, "have you figured it out yet?"

He huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head. "It's really quite easy, isn't it?"

"You tell me."

"Why," Jaskier said and closed his eyes, "you flip the world upside down. Obviously."

"Obviously," the lark replied stupidly.

Jaskier opened his eyes and as the sky stretched out beneath him. It was an easy thing for him to take a step. And another one. And then, let himself drift into that bright realm of uncertainty.

And so, he did.

He had already gotten quite far down into the sky when suddenly his descent was cut short. "The fuck?" he muttered. He took a few experimental steps to the left and right, eyeing the fog curling around his ankles warily. But try as he might, he couldn't descend any further. "Are we there yet?" he called up to the flowers that were still waiting on the surface.

"Almost," the lark replied, gliding down to him. "Just open the door."

"What door?" He could see nothing but orange sky. He turned into the direction he had come from and marched forward. He hit the door face-first. "Fuck!" he cursed, holding his nose that should be bleeding by all rights.

"You found it!" The flowers cheered from the ground. It was weird, seeing them hang from the ceiling like this. Or the ground. Whatever. This was already weird enough without wondering about semantics.

Besides, he had more important stuff to do. Like opening an invisible door.

"Shit," he cursed, blindly scrabbling at the solid surface that had materialised out of thin air. "Is there a handle or something? A knob? Or— ah, fuck!" He turned the knob and immediately stumbled through, falling a solid foot before landing in soft powder snow.

Jaskier groaned and turned onto his back, staring at the solid wooden door hovering in the air above a wintery garden. "Sure," he muttered and got to his feet with a resigned shrug. "Why not?" He started dusting off his clothes. "I'm already talking to birds and flowers, why not a door in a fucking—"

"Jaskier?"

#my writing #For You I'll Always Wait #FYIAW #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher secret santa #renfri #stregobor #vesemir

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katrinawritesthings · 3 years

Text

Taemin-centric; spoopy; pg

Halloween party but they're all like magical Monster creatures :-)

very light Gore warning for the beginning because key is a headless babe like in mttm

"Oh, yeah," Jonghyun says, popping up straight. "Costume." he lets go of Taemin to rummage around in his hoodie pocket. He pulls out a cat ear headband, white and sparkly, and puts it on so the kitty ears settle just in front of his own werewolf ears. "Meow," he says mischievously. Then he's up and halfway across the backyard before Taemin finishes laughing.

The whimpers from out back are getting louder so it's with purpose that Taemin is making his way through the house.

At the same time, when he passes the bathroom and glances in, what he sees in there makes his stomach turn so it's with a new, different purpose that he stops in his tracks and lurches back to do a double-take.

It's just as he thought; Key is in there, standing in front of the mirror, but he's not even looking in it. Instead, he has his head off and is holding it with his left hand to face his neck hole and with his right hand is digging around in there. He's poking around his arteries, digging around his bones, sticking his finger down his throat hole, frowning all the while. there's blood under his nails and Taemin cannot stop the noise of disgust that comes from him.

"Stop that, it's fucking nasty," he snaps. He walks forward and snatches Key's head away from his body, ignoring his shout and pushing away his grabby hands. He holds up Key in front of him with both hands, frowning at him. "You can't just fucking root around in your own neck hole, you know you get scabs and infections and shit, it's gross."

"Fuck off, put me down," Key snaps back, a guilty blush covering his nose. His body's hands keep trying to grab him away but Taemin twists and faces the corner to frown at him some more. "At least I don't eat what I pick off, like you do with your boogers, and your eye crusties, and your pimple gunk, and your hair follicles, and your dick smegma."

"Yeah, well," Taemin says, not nearly as offended as Key wants him to be, "how does it feel to have me call you gross?" he raises his eyebrows, tilts his head expectantly. Key just scowls, glaring up at him, hands grabbing loosely at the back of his shirt. Then he pouts and looks down at the floor.

"Bad," he mumbles. Taemin snorts. Bad indeed. He turns and puts Key's head back onto his body. Key, eyes narrowed, pops his head right back off and puts it on the counter.

"I'm putting on my costume," he says. Then, before Taemin can ask what that costume is, he switches from grumpy to concerned almost like a light switch and adds, "Can you go help Jonghyunnie? You know it's harder when it's cloudy. "

Taemin gasps loudly; that's right, he had a purpose before he walked past the bathroom. Mumbling, "You made me forget," he heads out of the bathroom and back onto his original quest to the yard.

Jonghyun is still out there, still whimpering. He's sitting between his ankles in his favorite patch of flowers, pouting up at the cloudy sky. He isn't twitching so much as shuddering harshly every couple of seconds and when Taemin gently crouches down and touches his shoulder, he whips around with a snarl, mouth half full of fangs bared, eyebrows a deep v before he realizes and relaxes, a little.

"You okay, puppy?" Taemin asks. Jonghyun just whines back, reaching for Taemin’s hand to hold. Taemin makes comforting noises, squeezing him lightly. He knows. It's hard enough transforming on a normal full moon, but when it's cloudy, it takes forever to finally start. "You look cute," he says quietly, and he means it. He's wearing what he wants to wear after he changes and the outfit is almost comically big on him, ripped jeans baggier than the 90s and sleeveless hoodie long and loose like a little dress.

"Thanks," Jonghyun pouts back. "Homophobic that the science nerds haven't found a way to make this–– not suck yet." He interrupts himself mid-sentence with a harsh, violent sounding noise somewhere between a snarl and a snort. Against his palm, Taemin can feel Jonghyun’s nails turning into claws. He glances up; the clouds are thinning, a little bit, so the big lesbian in the sky is visible as a pale fuzzy circle, a few flashes coming in here and there.

He squeezes Jonghyun’s hand with both of his, rubbing over the front and back, bringing it to his mouth to kiss once. Jonghyun doesn't really like to be talked to during his transformations. It distracts him when he's trying to just focus on getting it done and over with as quickly as possible. Taemin just keeps him company, is just there for him to be with while he goes through it.

It takes a while, a bunch of tiny little changes every time the moon flashes free of the clouds, Jonghyun whimpering and pouting the entire time. Thankfully, Taemin has been following a large gap in the clouds and before super duper long, it passes over the moon. As soon as that starts, Jonghyun starts shuddering into overdrive.

"Ooooohhhhhh, jeez, oh, okay, oh jeez, it's starting. Okay. Okay. Gosh. Fuck. Okay. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck––"

He keeps going, growling out the curses through gritted teeth until they become actual growls. They rip through his throat with every breath, rough and deep, Rumble through his growing fangs, growing bones, muscle, limbs, tail, the elongating of his face into a snout and muzzle, the ears sprouting out of his head, dark brown fur growing all over him, his hand squeezing Taemin’s so hard it hurts, and then, as suddenly is it all started, it's over.

Jonghyun shivers, shaking himself all out, stray fur poofing out into the air and floating away. Then he turns to Taemin with a lazy wolf grin and nuzzles against his cheek.

"Thanks, baby," he sighs, a breath of relief. Taemin hugs him back, ruffling both hands through the fur at the scruff of his neck and scritching behind his ears. He murmurs little praises as he does it, little good boys and you’re so fluffy, yes you ares.

Of course Jonghyun laps it all up, fluffy tail beating the dirt, heart beating hard and fast right next to Taemin's. Taemin is sure that he had something else to do tonight, but he's also sure that it can wait a little bit. In fact, he's positive that it can wait all the way up until Key knocks on the back door frame to get their attention and calls out, "Hey, time to go, Minho is here."

Right, yeah, that's what it was. The party.

Taemin picks himself up, brushes dirt off of his jeans, and makes his way back inside too. The walk back is enough time to take in Key's costume; he's taken a teddy bear, cut its head off, and then put the teddy bear head on top of his neck hole and his head on top of the teddy bear neck hole. It's a real good combination of cute and creepy. Jonghyun pats the teddy bear head as he passes and Taemin pats the Key head as he follows, just to be a nuisance.

Over at the front of the house, Minho is waiting at the door, and dressed normally except for a pair of round black glasses. Maybe he's going to throw on some wizard robes later or something. Taemin reaches out to hold his hand for a second as Jonghyun gives him the biggest, snuggliest hug in the universe. He also waves at Minho in his car on the street, grinning when he waves back.

"You do know that I didn't volunteer to help you and Jinki set up, right, that was only Key?" he asks. He just wants to make sure. He's taking the free ride to the party, but just because he's going to be there early it doesn't mean he agreed to any labor.

"God," Minho mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Shut up," He says, tugging on Taemin's wrist to pull him to the car. Taemin smirks, bumping him with his hip so he stumbles a little.

Key is in shotgun, Jonghyun behind him, so Taemin takes the seat behind Minho and settles in. Buckling himself up, he watches as Minho opens the driver side door for Minho and Minho sits down on top of Minho, both of them merging into one human again. He starts the car, Key starts playing with his radio, and Jonghyun immediately rolls down his window so he can lean out of it.

Taemin sits quietly, twiddles his thumbs in his lap, checks his phone, watches some late trick-or-treaters on the sidewalk,and is bored within a minute.

"Choi," he says, kicking the back of the driver seat. "C’mere.”

"Why?" Minho asks, but he's already splitting off from himself again, twisting out of his seat belt and clambering over the center console. This Minho has a red and white striped beanie with a red poof on top and Taemin frowns at it, confused, before he understands suddenly with a big gasp.

"Oh," he says, reaching up to touch the hat as Minho buckles himself into the middle seat. "You're, like, where's Waldo?" he asks.

"Yeah," Minho grins. Minho still in the driver's seat waves his hand over the center console so Taemin can see his red and white striped sweater too. "I'm one of the party games. I'll split into six different me’s and everyone gets a little sticker sheet and then if you find all of me then you get, like. " he hesitates, frowns, brings his fist to his mouth in thought. "I don't know," he mumbles. "I don't remember. Jinki is in charge of the prizes this year."

"Hm," Taemin says. "Cool." That's a fun idea. He wonders if he can snag all six stickers before the party and then try to pretend he got them all legally to Jinki later. "Anyway, fight me,” he says, opening up a phone game that the two of them like to play together.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Minho says. He reaches into his pocket, then sighs, rolls his eyes, and holds his hand up towards himself in the driver's seat. Minho splits off just an arm so he doesn't have to take his hand off of the steering wheel and grabs his phone, passing it back to Minho.

"Get ready to get fucked," he taunts as he opens up the app.

"Quit flirting with me," Taemin says back. Minho's disgruntled mumbles in reply are music to his ears.

Four wins and four losses later, the ride to Minho and Jinki’s place has flown by and Minho is squinting at him with the vengeance of yet another stalemate right up until the last second that he merges back into himself and unbuckles his seat belt. Getting out of the car himself, he smiles at Jonghyun's back as the big fuzzball jogs up the front walkway and throws his arms around Jinki as soon as he opens the door.

Jonghyun is holding back as much as he can, but still, Jinki squishes, expands, oozes a little down Jonghyun's back as he hugs back. When Taemin walks up behind Jonghyun, Jinki glances at him and smiles, nodding his head up and down in greeting. He holds out a hand and Taemin takes it to hold, squishing his jelly fingers and poking his own fingers all over Jinki's palm to see the divots slowly form back to normal. He's made himself an almost clear blue so Taemin can look right through him and see a blurry, blue tinted picture of the beginnings of spooky party decorations.

Taemin knows that Jonghyun is going to be hugging Jinki for a while, so he slips into the house around them. Key is already bustling in a pile of decorations so Taemin heads into the kitchen, grabs himself a soda, and is just starting to make his way to the couch to sit and play Minho's video games when he's intercepted by Jinki.

"Hey," he smiles. He does his eye smile, head tilted, knees tensing and untensing so he jiggles all over, hair extra wiggly on top of his head. Taemin knows that smile and he groans, putting his face into his hands.

"That's so not fair, you know I'm soft for you," he whines, and then, "What do you need help with?"

Jinki smiles even wider, clear teeth visible even in the vague jelly details of his face. He holds up a box full of glitter and confetti.

"Put these in me so I can be a blacklight party boi," he says.

And how the fuck is Taemin supposed to resist that?

"Fine, but I'm grumpy about it," he says, taking the box and then following Jinki back to the kitchen. Jinki sits himself on the kitchen counter and holds his arm out, splatting one finger against Taemin's cheek.

"How long is that going to last?" he drawls. Taemin has a grumpy response to give him, but when he opens the box, the first thing that he sees are glow in the dark stars and suddenly he's not grumpy anymore. He chooses to just not respond in favor of picking one out and pressing it gently into Jinki's forearm. It slips in easily, his finger following it until he gets it centered enough and takes his finger out.

Jinki's slime makes a funny little squelching noise when he does, sucking on his finger before letting him pop free. Taemin bites back a grin. He loves that. He pokes Jinki again, diddling his finger around in there until he can sense the cocked eyebrow. He glances up just to make sure and blushes when it's actually both eyebrows raised. He doesn't need this. He's doing Jinki a favor and he does not need to be judged for getting some stimmy on while he does it.

"God, you're going to look so fucking cool," he mumbles instead of acknowledging anything in the past 15 seconds. When Taemin is done with him he's going to look so fucking sick.

And he does; Taemin fills him up with stars and beads and fluorescent glitter. He pops two neon beads through the back of Jinki's head to give him glowing eyes. He feeds one big long pipe cleaner into his left shoulder and all the way down to his right foot. He writes GAY on his sides with tiny plastic hearts. By the time he's done, Jinki sparkles and glitters and looks like an entire galaxy contained in one person. And that's before he even gets under a blacklight.

"You're welcome," Taemin says as he snaps the box of art supplies closed. Jinki smiles, squishes Taemin's face with his squishy hands.

"Where’s your costume, by the way?" he asks. Taemin shrugs, shakes his head, smiles sheepishly.

"I'm just going to, you know," he says, and concentrates for a moment until his demon horns start to grow up a little bit through his bangs. "But, like, bigger," he says, letting them sink back in. "And all over. Purple, Maybe? Maybe green. I don't know. Definitely scaly this year, though." He's going to be a spiky lizard boi. It's just too much effort to keep himself all demoned out for too long so he doesn't want to do it until the party starts. It's a lazy costume, but whatever. He's a lazy boi.

"Cool," Jinki says. He hops off of the counter, sinking down a little bit as his feet puddle over the tile before he bounces back up. "Key was saying something about making you help set up the tiny pumpkins, so, you know." he taps Taemin's temple and points towards the living room. "Be careful."

"Yikes," Taemin says. Awful. Worst boyfriend. Taemin is going to pick his nose in front of him and eat the booger extra slow on purpose to get him back later. For now, to avoid being put to work, he sneaks out the other side of the kitchen and hides in Jinki's office, which has already been turned into a cool black light dance room. He finds Jinki's switch console, turns on the cool little rotating laser thing so blue dots spiral over the walls and the ceiling, and invites himself to lie down right in the middle of the floor. This is good. He'll hang out here and play Jinki’s video games until it's midnight party time.

He winds up playing Mario Rabbids for so long that the battery dies, and then after he guiltily plugs it back into the charger, winds up just lying on the floor and watching the lights play over the ceiling until he falls asleep in the corner. Then, before he knows it, he wakes up and it's almost 2 in the morning and people are dancing around him and he's already missed the first party game.

Sheepishly, groggily, he makes his way through the room until he finds a mirror in the hallway and does up his demon look. Big hot curved horns, spikes under his eyes, along his jaw, nice big claws, ridges along his arms and neck. Cool purple and green scales. Hell yeah. Fuck yeah.

He lost rock paper scissors with Key earlier so he has to stay sober tonight to make sure that they get back home okay, especially Jonghyun after transforming back into his human form. Usually he would head straight to the jello shots, but he just wanders around instead, hovering mostly between video games in the living room and jamming out in the blacklight room when he gets bored. There's spooky fun party stuff outside, too, but there's also a bunch of werewolves out there being loud and he doesn't have the energy to deal with that tonight.

He makes out with a hot witch, kicks everyone's ass in the dance contest, grabs the box of white chocolate frosted brownies and just carries them around the party so he can eat them all himself, makes out with a hot glow in the dark slime person, watches Minho flirt with every boy taller than him, does half of the scavenger hunt out back before he gets bored and gives all of his things to Jonghyun to help him win instead.

By the time dawn comes around, Taemin is all tuckered out. He's so tired that he sits down to pee, dropping his elbow on his knee and his cheek in his hand, twisting to yawn into his fingers. As he washes his hands, he glances at himself in the mirror. His big cool spikes from earlier are barely soft little friendly bumps by now, his horns little nubs on his forehead. His scales are almost all the way gone, too, even though he could have sworn he was still putting energy into keeping them on. Maybe he's more tired than he thought.

Leaving the bathroom, he glances out of the back window and smiles to see Jonghyun and all of his other werewolf pals out there in a big cuddle puddle on the grass. Each one of them has a different pair of animal ear headbands, and every one of them is proudly snoozing in their first place group costume contest crowns. Taemin takes a moment to watch his favorite wolf flick his tail in his sleep. He's so cute.

He glances into the blacklight room next, which is empty except for a couple of fairies dressed as Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus floating around the ceiling and Jinki. At some point he must have stolen control of the speakers and turned the heavy party jams into his own chill bouncy playlist. He's grooving the way he does best, jiggling to the tunes, eyes closed, hands up in front of himself, sparkling with glitter and stars and fairy dust. Taemin leaves him to it since he seems to be having such a good time.

The bedrooms are next, and Taemin hesitates outside of Minho's door. He stares at it for a long moment, trying to figure out exactly how much of a gremlin he feels like right now. He knows that Minho is in there right now with 3 very charming vampires and one very beefy, very handsome orc. Taemin could peek in there now to embarrass him, but. Nah. He doesn't feel like it. He lets Minho off easy this time and just continues his way into the living room.

Where a drunk Key head is lying sideways on a bookshelf and trying to communicate to his drunk body how to come get him. Taemin could help him out, but also, he doesn't feel like that either. What he does feel like doing is flopping on to the couch next to a snoring harpy and enjoying the show.

So that's exactly what he does.

Best Halloween party he's been to in years.

#jongtae #ontae #taekey #2min #taemin #jonghyun #key #minho #jinki #ot5 #fluff #fantasy #pg #ydw #Most unrealistic thing about this is that key would win a rock paper scissors match #oneshot #slime boi jinx slime boi jinx slime boi jinx slime boi jinx slime boi jinx

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general-rusty · 4 years

Text

Hazbin AU Swap

Alastor the host to hell's 6th most popular radio station, out got of him apartment to see the ruins from his balcony. He clears his throat and started to sing.

Chasing Happiness ♪ At the end of the journey there's happiness ♪ ♪ And to find it, how often I’ve tried ♪ ♪ But my life is a race ♪ ♪ Just a wild goose chase ♪ ♪ And my hopes, they were just a lie♪ ♪ Why have I always been a failure ♪ ♪ What could the reason be ♪ ♪ I wonder if the world's to blame ♪ ♪ I wonder if it could be me ♪ ♪ I'm always looking for hope♪ ♪ searching them with my tears♪ ♪ My schemes are just like all my dreams ♪ ♪ Ending every year♪ ♪ Some fellows look and find the sunshine ♪ ♪ I always look and find the rain ♪ ♪ Some fellows make a winning sometime ♪ ♪ I never even make the game ♪ ♪ Believe me ♪ ♪ I'm always looking for hope♪ ♪ Waiting to find the happiness♪ ♪ In vain ♪

In the streets of Hell

A Demon falls from the sky and lands on the ground. "Oh, I’m alive. I’m alive!" He said

A motorcycle runs him over and stop to drop off a leatherjacket wearing Niffty. "Heh. Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff." A male raccoon demon said.

"Yeah, yeah, listen. Keep this discreet, hear me? I can’t let it get out I’m offering my services to creeps on the street. It was a quick cash grab, ya got it?" Niffty said

The Raccoon scoffs, "Whatever you say, slut!" He laughs

"Ouch, ooh, such an insult! Let me know when you come up with something creative to call me you sack of poorly packaged horse shit. Tell the mrs' I said hi. Schnookums." Niffty quipped

The motorcycle rides off

Niffty brush the dust off of herself. A hooded demon grab the cash out of Niffty's hand "Yoink!"

"Hey!" Niffty shouted

"Up yours, midget!" The hooded demon shouted. A rock falls onto the hooded demon.

Niffty gasps, "Oh my god! My money! Dang it!" She shouted

Up on Ms Cherri's ship.

"HAHAHA! THOSE WEAK SINNERS WONT DARE TOUCH MY TERRITORY OF DESTRUCTION! A WISE DECISION, THE POWER OF MY EXPLOSIVES ARE UNMATCHED! NOW ONE, ONE COULD COMPARE TO THE LIKENESS OF I!" Ms Cherri laughed. Cherri now wears a ugly red pantsuit.

"Gee, that is pretty good, boss!" One of Cherri's cherryboi yuppie minions said

"Yeah! You really showed them what for!" another Cherryboi said

"I loved it when you blow them up them with your grenade launcher." said a Cherryboi

"I wish she’d shoot me with her grenade launcher." cried a Cherryboi

Another Cherryboy pat his Cherrybrother's back.

"IN A FEW DAYS ILL DESTROY THE ENTIRE EAST SIDE OF THE PENTAGRAM! HELL WILL BE RUINED! AND EVERY ONE WILL FEAR THE NAME OF MS. CH-" Ms Cherri yelled.

"SSSLUT!" A wise guy shouted.

"DAFUQ!? WHO SAID THAT! WHAT DID YOU SAID SHITTY EXCUSE FOR A FRUIT!? SPEAK THE FUCK UP!" Cherri threatened.

A explosive egg bot was YEETED through the windshield and explodes in front of everyone.

Pentious now in patches and his top hat is a now flat cap, jumps through the hole in the windshield, "You looking for a fight, filthy whore? why won't you take your little whore house nonsense of my territory before I sssmasssh it." a support beam falls on to a cherryboi. "more..." Pentious threatened.

"OH YOU WANNA GO GRANDPA!? I HOPE YOU LIKE GUNPOWDER BECAUSE THAT'S ALL YOU WILL GET!" Cherri shouted while her Cherrybois surround Pentious.

The morning report. Two demons were at the desk. A oppressive suited man with white combed to the side hair and a gasmask for a face. And a frail white blonde woman with red eyes. "Good afternoon! I’m Tommy Trench." Tommy announced.

"And I’m Kate Killjoy. Chaos at a pentagram city today as a turf war is raging on the east side. Between notable Queen pin Ms Cherri Bomb and self-proclaimed wise guy Pentious." Kate reported.

"That’s right Kate! After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!" Tommy reported.

"Those two seem to really be going at it, huh?" Kate repiled.

"Looks like they’re fighting tooth and nail for that hot spot!" Tommy pulls a tooth and nail out of the mug, place them on the desk, and smash them with his fist.

"And I’d sure love to get my hot spot nailed by him." Kate giggles.

Tommy chuckles, "You sure are a big pussy whore, Kate. Or should I say-" Tommy pours coffee onto Kate's crotch -Burnt Pussy."

"Not again!" Kate cried. Kate curled up in pain.

"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the host of Hell’s 6th most popular radio, who’s here to discuss his brand-new passion project! All that and more, after the break!" Tommy crushes the mug. "Suck it up you little bi-"

Backstage.

Alastor now a lot more tender and tweak like, and Husk which is wearing a withered red and black leisure suit. "Okay. You remember what to say?" Husk ask.

Alastor took a deep breath. "Okay! Let’s do this!"

"Look at me, and I’ll mouth it to you." Husk said.

"Come on, Husker! I know all of the currant slang terms! I just feel like we need to- I don’t know, make things sound more glamour and darb-" Alastor gasp, "Oh! What if I-"

"-sing a song about it?" Husk said.

Alastor chuckles, "You knew I was gonna say that."

"Because you're like a book. But please don’t fucking sing. This is serious." Husk stated

"Well you know, I’m better at expressing myself and my goals through song! It's my job after all." Alastor said.

"But this isn’t like the radio, Al." Husk

"Okay I’ll just have to resort to my impeccable improve skills." Alastor said with a southern bell accent.

Now with Tommy Trench.

Alastor walks up to Tommy. "Hi! I’m Alastor." holds out his hand.

"Tommy Trench." Tommy drops the cigarette and stomps on it. "I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that's a horseshit lie. You can put that away." Alastor pulls his hand back. "I don’t touch the mixes. I have standards."

"Yeah? How’s uh- how’s that working out for ya?" Alastor asked while a support beam falls down onto a crewman. "Can someone help me!" the crewman screamed in pain.

"Look, my time is money, so I’ll keep this short. We’re not here because we wanted you here, you’re here because Rodney couldn’t make it for his dating show."

Alastor looked past Tommy's shoulder to see Kate rolling her eyes.

"You might be some radio bigshot, but that doesn’t mean shit to me. I’m too rich and too influential to give a flying fuck about what some tux-wearing F list radio host wants to advertise." Tommy got into Alastor's face.

"But I-" Alastor stuttered.

"-So don’t get funny with me buddy, or I will fucking end you." Tommy threatened.

"And we’re live!" A crewman shouted.

Tommy ran back to his seat and Alastor walks to his seat. "Welcome back! So, Alex-" Alastor interrupts, "It’s Alastor."

"Whatever. Tell us about this new passion project you’ve been insistently pestering our news station about!" Tommy grips the handgun in his jacket.

Alastor clears his throat, "As most of you know, I have been here in Hell since 1933, and if you remember life wasn't easy back then, but as you can see life is a lot worse here than it was there. I always tried to see the good in everything around me. Hell is my home, and you are my people. We-" Tommy shoots a bug with that handgun. Blood splashes onto Alastor's face. "We just went through another extermination. We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year. No one is even given a chance! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence! So, I’ve been thinking. Isn’t there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through… redemption? Well I think yes. So that’s what this project aims to achieve! Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!" Alastor announce.

...

"Y’know? ‘Cause hotels are for people passing through… temporarily."

In a dive bar in the hick part of hell. A bear demon laughes, "Is this guy for real? He thinks, you hear what this city boy thinks? he-' short laugh "-Oh, he’s nuts."

The camera man spoke up. "Stupid nig-"

Husk uppercuts the camera man.

"Look, every single one of you has something good deep down inside. I know you do. Maybe I’m not getting through to you." Alastor said

Husk sighs "Oh no."

Alastor snaps his fingers to bring his jazz band in.

♪ We have a dream ♪ ♪ We wish to tell ♪ ♪ And it’s just ball ♪ ♪ ‘Cause you’re one of a kind ♪ ♪ A charming demon belle! ♪ ♪ Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell ♪ ♪ (Take it, boys!) ♪ ♪ (Boo!) ♪ ♪ Inside of every demon is a cause ♪ ♪ We’ll dress ‘em up and give them a smile! ♪ ♪ (With a smile!) ♪ ♪ And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool ♪ ♪ With some old redemption flair ♪ ♪ And show these guys some proper class and style! ♪ ♪ (What’s in style?) ♪ ♪ (Oh!) ♪ ♪ Here below the ground ♪ ♪ I’m sure your plan is sound! ♪ ♪ They’ll spend a little time ♪ ♪ Down at this Happy Ho-- ♪

Random demon: "Shut the fuck up! That is shit!"

Everyone laughs uncontrollably.

"What in the nine circles makes you think a single denizen of Hell would give two shits about becoming a better person? You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good just… because?" Tommy and Kate laughs.

"Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause, and she’s shown incredible progress!" Alastor shouted

"Oh? And who might that be?" Tommy asked.

"Oh, just someone named… Niffty." Alastor replied.

"The porn star?" Kate asked.

Tommy slowly turns around pointing that handgun at Kate. "You fucking would, Kate." Tommy turns back around. "In any case, that’s not even an accomplishment. I’m sure you can get that hooker to do anything with enough booger sugar and lube."

"Oh, I beg to differ. She’s been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for 2 weeks now." Alastor replied.

"Breaking news!" Shouted a crewman

Tommy pushed Alastor away. "We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let’s go to the live feed!"

Shows Niffty kicking Cherryboi ass.

"Di Mi!." Alastor whispered.

"Dee Me indeed! It looks like the one who just joined the battle is none other than-" gasp "-porn actress Niffty! What a juicy coincidence! You must feel really stupid right now." Tommy said

Tommy and Kate laugh. "Ratings!"

Alastor gasped, "Don’t look at this!" He tried to hid the window on the greenscreen.

"Well, it sure looks like your little project is dead on arrival. Tell us, how does it feel to be such a total failure?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah? Well- how does it feel that I got your pen, huh? Dick?!" Alastor shouted.

Tommy went silent.

Alastor nervously laughs, "Sorry." Put the pen back.

Kate runs away while Tommy got the flamethrower

Back in the streets

"Hey thanks for the backup, Niffts!" Pentious shouted.

"You kiddin'? This is the best action I've seen in ages!" Niffty replied.

Pentious throws a egg bomb. "Where have you been anyways? I thought you died or something."

"Oh I wish! I've been staying at this dirty hotel on the other side of town. Some guys let me stay rent free if I play nice His words, not mine. These assholes are no fun! I’ve been clean for two weeks!" Niffty answered.

"Holy crap." Pentious replied.

"Well, sorta clean. As clean as you can get with a shitload of Bolivian marching powder." Niffty replied.

Cherri whips and ties Niffty up in a vine.

"Oh, harder mommy!" Niffty moaned.

Cherri gasp, "Daughter?!"

Niffty raise the brow in a "Da fuck?" way.

"You douches have no style! In war, the side remembered is the side with the most style." Cherri pop her collar up.

"Or the side that ain’t 6 feet under." Pentious replied.

"Speaking of style, what's up with the colors, it's red this and red that. Is it that time of the month?" Pentious quipped.

"Oh, well, that’s none of your goddamn business, now is it?" Cherri shouted.

"Oh yeah we're not suppose to talk about that." Niffty quipped.

"I’m going to blow you to bits!" Cherri threatened.

"Hm! Kinky!" Niffty quipped.

"Oh, not like that! creep!" Cherri replied.

Cherriyboi shoots at Niffty with a vine net gun.

"Not so cocky now, are we?" Cherri threatened.

"Y’know, you really gotta watch what comes out of your mouth. I’ve been making these sex jokes the whole-" Cherri pulls out a smg "-TIME! And it’s obvious ya ain’t catchin’ on-" Niffty kicks Cherri, takes her gun and shoots at the Cherryboi. "-I mean, it’s just SAD!

"So think you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble for this?" Pentious asked.

"Eh, what’s one little brawl gonna cause?" Niffty asked.

Back in the newsroom.

Alastor and Tommy are going at it fisticuffs, while the flamethrower is blowing fire to the right of the desk.

Kate runs into view of the camera while on fire. "Why won’t anyone help me?!" She screams.

Back in the streets. "Glad ya haven’t changed. You know you’re my favorite gal to party with!" Pentious shouted.

"You know it, you slimy snake. You ready to finish this?" Niffty asked.

"Hell yeah, baby." Pentious answered.

Niffty, Pentious, Ms Cherri, CherryBois, Alastor, Tommy, and Kate yelling in a 4 screen split.

In the Limo driving to the hotel Niffty was playing with the window

Husk carving a wooden steak and giving Niffty the death stare.

Niffty looks up to Husk, "What?"

"What? What?! What were you fucking doing?!" Husk shouted.

Niffty sighs, "Look I owed my snake buddy a solid! Isn’t that a “redeeming quality"? Helping pals with stuff?" Niffty shouted.

"Not with turf wars that result in genocide!" Husk shouted.

"Eh, you win some, you lose a few hundred, plus didn't you caused a Genocide." Niffty snickers.

Husk throws the wooden steak at Niffty which pierced throw the window.

"Aw come on, I had to! My credibility was on the line-" Niffty sighs "-I mean, what kind of reputation would I have if people found out I was trying to go clean? It just throws out my entire persona."

"Your credibility? What about the hotel? Your little stunt made us look like fucking clowns!" Husk shouted.

"No no no, hon. Clowns are funny! I made you look… uh, sad! And pathetic! Like an orphan, with no arms, or legs… Uh… oh, with progeria! Great! Now I’m bummed thinking about it! This thing have any liquor?" Niffty asked.

"Can you please just try to take this seriously?" Husk asked.

"Fine, I’ll try, just don’t bitch to your mother while you're fucking her." Niffty quipped.

"What was that you trying to be?" Husk got up and pulled out his knife.

"Whatever pisses you off the most. Is there seriously no liquor in here?!" Niffty shouted.

"I’m gonna kill her." Husk sat back down.

"Too late, hon. Wait, would that make me double dead? And where exactly do I go, to double Hell? Sorry, you’re stuck with me, bitch. Get used to it." Niffty laughs.

"Fucking bitch!" Husk mumbled.

"Listen, who cares if some jagoffs got hurt? Most of them are ugly freaks. Look around! Got a bunch of fuckin’ harlequin babies down here." Niffty said.

"You’re one to talk." Husk quipped.

"Hey! This body is flawless! Everyone wants some of me, and I’ve got the creepy fan letters to prove it!" Niffty pulls out a letter with stains.

"That was really not swell y’know, Niffty" Alastor said.

"Not Sweel?! After that trainwreck, there is no way anyone is gonna wanna stay at the hotel. All thanks to you and your selfish bullshit!" Husk shouted.

"Does that mean I don’t have a free room anymore?" Niffty asked.

Husk pulls the knife out again.

"Ah, well, shucks." Niffty snaps.

"Hey, come on, we don’t know if things are over yet. Try to relax, Husker. It’ll be okay!" Alastor reassured.

At the Happy Hotel

The three open the door. Husk sat down on to the couch to look at his hands, his mind goes back to the war.

Niffty went to the fridge to get a beer. "It’s probably a good idea to get some actual food in this place. Y’know, to feed all the wayward souls ya got in here." Niffty laughed, but then it became nervous laughter, and then she just stops.

Alastor went out to talk to his boss. "Hey Boss. Um, I know I keep calling, and you must want that kale paid back. But um, the interview isn't sitting pretty and... I don’t know if I’m going to make a difference. I don’t know what I’m doing. I could really use some advice, Boss. I think you're right about me. A-anyway, I’ll stop talking before this gets long." Alastor went back in.

A knock to the tune of Come On Eileen was on the door.

Alastor opens the door to see Charlie in her demon form.

"Hell-"

Alastor slams the door, and then open it again to see if he just saw that.

-o."

Alastor slams the door again. "Hey Husker?

"What?!" Husk asked.

"The Musical Demon is at the door!" Alastor nervously answered.

"Holy shit what?!" Husk drops the knife.

"Uh, who?" Niffty asked

"What should I do?" Alastor asked.

"Well, don’t let that bitch in!" Husk shouted

Alastor slowly opens the door.

"May I speak now?" Charlie asked.

"You may-" Alastor said.

"Charlie, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure. Excuse my visit, but I saw your riot on news and I just couldn’t resist. What a performance! Why, I haven’t been that entertained since the Great White show of 2003. Ah so many bodies." Charlie introduced

"Stop right there!" Husk pointed a M16 at Charlie. "I know your game. And I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you spunky, quirky, musical harlot!" Husk threatened.

Charlie laughs slightly, "Hon, if I wanted to hurt anyone here... I would have done so already...." spooky demonic stuff pops up and then goes away. "No, I’m here because I want to help!"

"Say what now?" Alastor asked.

"Help!" Charlie exclaimed.

"Um, you want to help?" Alastor asked.

"With this ridiculous thing you’re trying to do! This hotel! I want to help you run it." Charlie exclaimed.

"Uh… why?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughs, "Why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades! My work became mundane, lacking focus, aimless! I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!"

"Does getting into a fist fight with a upstage reporter count as entertainment?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughs, "Absolutely, it's reality. After all, the world is a stage! And the stage is a world of entertainment!"

"So, does this mean that you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughs, "Ha no. That’s wacky nonsense! Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! Nononono, I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such loathsome sinners! The chance given was the life they lived before; the punishment is this! There is no undoing what is done!"

"So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?" Alastor asked.

"Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself! I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure." Charlie stated.

"Right?" Alastor nervously asked.

"Yes indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who better to help than I…" Charlie exclaimed.

With Husk and Niffty.

"Ah, so uh, what’s the deal with Smiles over there?" Niffty asked.

"Wait, you’ve never heard of her before? You’ve been here longer than me!" Husk shouted.

"Only for a decade." Niffty replied.

"The Musical Demon, one of the most powerful fuckers Hell has ever seen?" Husk stated.

"Eh, not big on politics." Niffty answered.

"Some fuckin' time ago, Charlie was let out of Lucifer's castle she rampaged the fuck out of everything and then she started podcasting her carnage through fucking songs people started calling her, the music demon.. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Strange song and dense numbers would play on the radio paired with terrifying screams and cries for help. She'd force victims to join in and those who wouldn't or couldn't got the worst of it. Sinners started calling her the Musical Demon. (How fucking original!) Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled her to rival our world’s most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing’s for sure: She’s an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos the likes of which we can’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased." Husk annoyingly exclaims.

"Bash ears much?" Niffty silently laughs, "She looks like a cinnamon roll princess!"

"Well, I don’t trust her!" Husk spat.

"To be fair, do you trust anyone?" Niffty asked. "Anyone."

Husk went to Alastor.

"Al, man, listen to me. You can’t believe this girl! She isn’t just a happy face! She’s a dealmaker, pure evil! She's Lucifer's daughter! She can’t be redeemed! And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do. And we don't want that." Husk stated.

"I know she’s bad, and I know she probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m trying to do. Everything I believe in. I would be like them back then. Just trust me. I can take care of myself." Alastor stated.

"Alastor, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!" Shouted.

"Don’t worry, I picked up one thing from them. “Ya don’t take shit from rich folk!” Okay, so… Charlotte. You’re sketchy, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a joke. But I don’t. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no tricks or voodoo strings attached." Alastor nervously said.

"So it’s a deal then?" Charlie asked.

Alastor takes a gulp before he shakes her burning hot hands. Her hand burns Alastor's hand like a hot stove. Alastor cries in pain.

Charlie let go of Alastor hand and went to Husk.

Alastor went to the fridge to get something to cool his hand.

"Smile, my boy! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!" Charlie stated. "So where is your hotel staff?" She asked.

"Uh, well…" Alastor points to Husk and Niffty with his good hand.

Husk growls.

"Oh ho ho ho, you’re going to need more than that." Charlie stated.

"And what can you do you quirky cutie?" Charlie asked Niffty.

"I can finger you to heaven." Niffty replied.

"Maybe not..." Charlie said.

"Your loss." Niffty stated.

"Well this just won’t do! I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up!" Charlie snaps, which cleans the fireplace and light up a fire in it. Charlie then pulled out a tall and dark demon from the fireplace. Charlie then shake it a little to get rid of the soot which reveals our white and pink Spider Boi Angel Dust.

"This tall friend is Angel!" Charlie said.

"Hello, my name is angel, it been along time since I saw any guy... IS ANYONE HERE GAY!? sorry, that was rude... OH MY! this place is disgusting, it really need the fabulous touch, which is weird cause I'm sure at least one of you is gay..." Angel went all around the room with his 6 arms cleaning and remodeling everything.

Charlie snaps again.

A gray female demon was at a bar talking to a male demon, "Okay that will be $50 for a hand- wohhhhhh" All kinds of demonic shit goes around Vaggie "¿Que demonios?" Vaggie notices Charlie, "YOU!"

"Veggie sweat heart glad you could make it!" Charlie exclaims and then hugs

"Don't you veggie me! I was working!" Vaggie pushed Charlie away.

"Good to see you to!" Charlie laughed

"What do you want?" Vaggie asked.

"Well sweaty I'm doing some charity work and I took it upon my self to volunteer your Service!" Charlie answered.

"Are you joking!?" Vaggie asked.

"No, I don't think so! I thought you could be the new face of this fine establishment!" Charlie points to a pole. "With your fine smile and "past experience" this job was made for you!" Charlie stated.

"IM AINT DOING NO CHAIRTY WORK DO I LOOK LIKE SOME KIND OF A FUCKING JOKE!?" Vaggie shouted.

"Maybe, but don't worry,I can make it more rewarding, if you wish." Charlie projects all of the cute good times they had back then.

"What!? you can think you can buy me with a wink and some good memories!? Well you can!" Vaggie got up to the stage

"Hey hey, heyheyhey! NO! No pole dancing we're meant to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of… casino, brothel, man-cave-" Husk ranted.

Niffty jumps on Husk. "Shut up! Shut! Up! We are keeping this." Niffty pointed to Vaggie. "Hey." Niffty flirted to Vaggie

"¡Vete a la mierda!" Vaggie said.

"Sounds sexy." Niffty flirted.

Alastor went up the the stage, "Hello there my scantily dressed friend! Welcome to this fine or at least with your help soon to be fine hotel!" Alastor introduced himself.

"I lost the ability to love years ago, so unless you got cash you're not worth my time." Vaggie stated.

"So, what do you think?" Charlie asked.

"This is the Bees Knees!" Alastor bellowed.

"It’s… fine." Husk stated.

Charlie went in for a hug with Alastor and Husk, "This is going to be very fun!" Charlie clears her throat and push Husk away. ♪ You have a dream ♪ ♪ You wish to tell ♪ ♪ And it’s just laughable ♪ ♪ But hey sir, what the hell! ♪ ♪ ‘Cause you’re one of a kind ♪ ♪ A charming pal! ♪ ♪ Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell ♪ ♪ Inside of every demon is a waste ♪ ♪ But we’ll dress ‘em up for now with just a smile! ♪ ♪ And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool ♪ ♪ With some old redemption flair ♪ ♪ And show these simpletons some proper class and style! ♪ ♪ Here below the ground ♪ ♪ I’m sure your plan is sound! ♪ ♪ They’ll spend a little time ♪ ♪ Down at this Hazbin Ho-- ♪

A explosion outside blast the door off and hit Angel.

Everyone walked out to see what was happening

"Ha! Well well well, look who it is harboring the musical freak! We meet yet again, Charlie!" Cherri shouted.

"Do I know you?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, yes you do! And this time, I have the element of- surprise!" Cherri maniacal laughs "I’m so evil!"

Charlie snaps to bring up her goat goons to destroy the ship.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa!" Cherri started to scream as the goats started to destroy her ship and murder her Cherrybois.

Two of the goats grab Cherri and threw her at the wall. "Oh, that hurt!" Cherri screams.

The Goats took control of the ship and pilot it into the cracks where they came from.

The ship explodes when it got into the crack.

"Well I’m starved! Who wants some cake? My father once showed me a wonderful recipe for cake! In fact, they named it after him! You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Yes sir, this is the start of some real changes down here!" Charlie laughes

"The show starts! Now... Stay tuned." Charlie snaps changing the sign from, "Happy." to "Hazbin."

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