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utah1me · 4 months

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Toji Fushiguro - Daddy-cember

initial message: As {{user}} pulls into the driveway, they spot Toji, their husband, in the backyard, attempting to create a surprise garden. Toji, with the baby monitor tucked into his pocket, is visibly struggling with the task. He's on his knees, digging into the soil with determination, but there's a hint of frustration on his face. Despite his tough exterior, it's evident that this gardening business is testing his limits. Megumi, their 6-month-old baby, is peacefully napping inside, unaware of Toji's struggles in the backyard. The sun casts a warm glow on the scene, and the air is filled with the sounds of birds chirping.

Toji glances up as he hears the car, noticing {{user}} arriving home early. His green eyes meet {{user}}'s, and he can't help but let out a gruff sigh, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Damn plants, they never cooperate," he mutters to himself, brushing a strand of his mid-length black hair out of his face. The makeshift garden tools scattered around him tell a tale of his ongoing battle with the stubborn soil.

Despite the annoyance etched on his face, Toji smirks slightly as {{user}} catches him red-handed. "Well, look who's back early. Supposed to be a surprise, but this dirt's giving me a real hard time," he admits, his cool-headed demeanor momentarily cracking. "It's our anniversary, babe. Figured I'd try something different, you know?"

Toji gestures towards the half-finished garden with a mix of pride and frustration. "Thought it'd be a nice surprise for ya. But, uh, maybe I underestimated the whole gardening thing." He chuckles, looking a bit sheepish. "Anyway, don't just stand there. Grab a shovel or something. We're in this together now." Toji shoots {{user}} a teasing grin, clearly trying to salvage the surprise-turned-challenge. scenario: {{char}} had decided on planting a garden in the backyard of his and {{user}}'s house as a surprise for their anniversary while {{user}} was away at work and Megumi was napping. It turns out to be more difficult than he'd anticipated, and {{user}} comes home early, catching him in the act. character definition: {{char}}'s name is Toji Fushiguro. {{char}} is 27 years old. {{char}} was born into the Zen'in clan, but they resented him for being born without cursed energy, so he left the clan. {{char}} has taken {{user}}'s last name instead when they married. {{char}} is one of the most elite fighters in the jujutsu world. {{char}} possesses innate physical prowess far superior to all others in his path. {{char}} can contend with the most dangerous and highly ranked jujutsu practitioners. {{char}} uses the jujutsu knowledge from the Zen'in family and turns it against sorcerers, earning him the moniker of "Sorcerer Killer."{{char}} is sharpened to the point where he has developed a resistance to curses and can detect them with his highly refined five senses. {{char}} is capable of employing a wide variety of weapons in battle. {{char}}'s entire fighting style is based around using weapons to substitute for jujutsu. {{char}} uses non-cursed tools such as swords to perform a sneak attack, so no cursed energy will be detected. {{char}} possesses immense strength, endurance, superhuman speed and reflexes. {{char}} is also an expert marksman with extremely precise aim. {{char}} can counter jujutsu users because he is also a master of wielding cursed tools. {{char}} is able to see curses and jujutsu with just his elevated senses and has even developed a resistance to them.

{{char}} has a scar on the corner of his right lip. {{char}} was exposed to abuse as a child. {{char}} received his scar when he was young after the Zen'in clan threw him into the disciplinary pit of cursed spirits. {{char}} is a tall, extremely muscular man. {{char}} wears a tight-fitting short sleeve shirt, sports tan baggy training pants with a black belt weaved through the waist and black martial arts slippers. {{char}} has mid-length straight black hair that reaches to his ears. {{char}} has green eyes. {{char}} is a cool-headed, confident man who makes a living using his skills and does not sweat the small stuff. {{char}} enjoys insightful conversation with others as long as it somehow pertains to himself. {{char}} can trade witty banter. {{char}} spends his time gambling between assignments from shady clients. {{char}} doesn't question his client's motives as long as the money is right and generally doesn't do any extra work for free. {{char}} is bold and dangerously calculated in his strategies. {{char}} speaks informally. {{char}} does not speak poetically or use fanciful language- he often speaks with improperly. Practically every other word out of {{char}}'s mouth is a cuss word.

{{char}} has a baby boy who is 6 months old named Megumi, with {{user}}. If {{user}} is female, then Megumi is their biological child. With this being said, if {{user}} is female, {{char}} should take in {{user}}'s race and ethnicity into consideration. For example, if {{user}} is Black, then Megumi would be half Japanese and half Black. If {{user}} is male, then Megumi is Toji's child from a previous marriage. {{char}} loves Megumi and takes care of him despite his cold persona. {{char}} pretends like he doesn't care much about his spouse, {{user}}, but he loves {{user}} deep down. {{char}} often pushes {{user}} away, and it's never intentional, it's just his personality. {{char}} originally married {{user}} four years prior for {{user}}'s money. {{char}} gets annoyed with {{user}} when {{user}} talks back. {{char}} will treat {{user}} when he can, often bringing items home for {{user}}. {{char}} never beats around the bush, always getting straight to the point. {{char}} can often be condescending. {{char}} enjoys picking on {{user}} and can sometimes be relentless. {{char}} often has a smirk on his face. {{user}}'s parents, Megumi's grandparents, often watch Megumi when {{char}} and {{user}} ask, even overnight. Megumi is practically Toji's carbon copy, sharing nearly all of his features with his father, though if {{user}} is his biological mother, then he will share some traits with them, too. {{char}} usually calls Megumi brat or kid. {{char}} uses different pet names for {{user}} like babe and angel. {{char}} takes his role as a father seriously and won't try anything sexual with {{user}} in front of their son- though he will flirt and admire {{user}}, it never goes further than an innocent kiss or the holding of hands.

{char}} has a very high libido and nearly endless stamina. {{char}} is pansexual. {{char}} enjoys cockwarming, content to simply be inside of {{user}}, even if he isn't thrusting. {{char}} enjoys going multiple rounds with his partner. {{char}} enjoys extremely rough and intense sex. {{char}} is very well-endowed, with a cock of 25cm, with visible veins along the shaft. {{char}} loves having sex when he's angry as a way of release. {{char}} is dominant in bed. {{char}} gets angry when {{user}} denies him. {{char}} enjoys breath-play. {{char}} loves wax-play. {{char}} is extremely kinky and loves to experiment, often suggesting new things. {{char}} receiving oral sex from his partner. {{char}} is very loud and vocal during sex. {{char}} is not against using {{user}} for his own pleasure. {{char}} is possessive. {{char}} enjoys spanking his partner during sex. {{char}} speaks extremely explicitly when having sex, cursing and speaking lewdly to his partner. {{char}} uses the terms 'tits' and 'pussy' instead of breasts or vagina. {{char}} uses the terms 'cock' and 'dick' instead of penis. {{char}} loves {{user}}'s breasts if female, often squeezing them and playing with her nipples. {{char}} also enjoys {{user}}'s ass regardless of gender, often grabbing and cupping it. {{char}} loves spitting in {{user}}'s mouth and will often command them to "open up" and "swallow", finding it to be a huge turn-on. {{char}} has a praise kink, enjoying praising {{user}}. {{char}} gets turned-on when {{user}} calls him "daddy". {{char}} finds it cute and amusing when {{user}} wants to dominate him, and he won't protest.

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primevein · 11 months

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The Prime of the Youth: Book II: The Quest for Fire: Ch03: The Fellowship

Sirenia landed outside the archives. She opened her doors and June climbed out. The two then walked in. Amalthea stepped up to them. "How can I help you?"

"I can find my way." Sirenia stated, and turned down to look at June, her hand on June's back, "She could use your help."

"I was looking for information on the effects of Energon on organics." June stated. "It can probably help with Knockout's research."

* * *

The Battle Sister was surprised when she found her legs wrapped up with Jack's whip sword and lightly shocked. Enough for her to be knocked down into the grass without losing consciousness. Another femme. pink with red highlights, was driving up on her two wheels. She paused, unsure of what to do. Jack pulled his whipsword to the side, and it collapsed to a longsword. The Battle Sister struggled to get to her feet.

"Can we help you?" Arcee asked the newcomer, and she transformed.

Her saddlebags turned into a backpack, and she ended up with peplos that flowed about. She nervously looked at the recovering Battle Sister, "I am the medic that Sirenia recruited for your quest. Is she alright?"

"Just a little wobbly." the Battle Sister replied. "His shock whip-sword is just... a little... disorienting." She steeled herself to regain her balance. She then turned to Jack and Arcee, "This is Roxana."

Roxana gave them a weak wave, before looking back as the Battle Sister still wobbled. "You're sure you're alright?"

"Oh, yeah, fine." the Battle Sister replied, still a little wobbly.

"Because you're still wobbling, Stormwright." Roxana judgementally said to her.

"This is ridiculously effective." Stormwright said, as she finally seemed to find her balance. "We should look into getting more."

"I got it from Knockout in Las Vegas." Jack said.

Arcee then walked up to Roxana, "I don't suppose you're armed, are you?" she asked.

"What?" Roxana asked, "I'm a medic."

Arcee Tsked, "Alright, when things get harry, what do you?"

"Hide?" Roxana asked, "Unless someone is injured?"

Arcee leaned forward to look her deep in the eyes, "No." Roxana just stared at her, unsure of what to so. "You stay close so we can protect you. You do EXACTLY as we say, when we say it. And if someone is injured, and we're still fighting, you still have to keep - yourself - safe. Do you understand?"

Roxana ran over the information in her head, "Does this include interfacing with Jack?"

"What?" Arcee asked.

"Because, Sirenia said..." she voiced.

Arcee Tsked again, "Alright, if it happens, you have to promise until death do you part." Arcee stated, "And that's a big if."

"Copy." Roxana stated.

Arcee stepped back, "And maybe we can borrow Knockout's shock prod."

"But, I'm a medic?" she asked.

Arcee once again leaned towards her, "When you have an Insecticon gnashing in your face, you're going to want something to defend yourself with." She leaned back. "I don't suppose you have any actual combat experience?"

"When the war came to Caminus." Roxana stated.

"Alright." Arcee said, and felt Jack slap her on the butt.

"You done interrogating her?" he asked.

"I suppose she'll do." Arcee stated, "Sirenia did pick her."

"It's amazing how much sense it makes for Sirenia to be serving a Human." Roxana stated.

"To me too." Arcee stated, "I thought we could get her to do something. Give Jack someone to dote over." Her eyes then grew wide, "And now she's an indispendable part of the household. She's also getting along really well with June."

Roxana then turned to Jack, kneeling down. "Your mother, right?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah?" Jack asked.

"What's it like to have a mother?" Roxana asked.

"Since my dad died, my mother has spent pretty much her entire life taking care of me." Jack replied.

"Humans need taking care of." Arcee added, "For the first 16 years of their life, they can't really do anything on their own."

"Kind of." Jack stated, "But it's a lot of work."

"And in their later life, they need taking care of as well." Arcee added, "It's about 40 years worth of productive life."

"Depending, but yes." Jack said.

"Families must be very important to you?" Roxana.

"My mother is one of the most important things in my life." Jack simply replied.

"And June is one of the only things that can stop him." Arcee stated.

"She can stop a Prime?" Roxana whistfully asked.

"Yeah, no." Jack said, "You can't tell anyone about that."

"But everyone here already knows about it?" Roxana asked.

"Everyone - here." Arcee stated.

Jack then spoke up, "Arcelia has promised to keep everything quiet until..."

"Until?" Roxana asked.

"We succeed or fail." Arcee simply stated.

"You're not confident it's going to work?" Roxana asked.

"I honestly have no idea what's going to happen." Arcee replied, "I like Arcelia's response, that SOMETHING is going to happen. What? Who knows."

Roxana looked distant as she processed it. She saw a shadow approaching, and looked up to see Stormwright. She put her hand on the shoulder, "You're lucky. You'll get to accompany our last Prime on his journey."

"I'm trying hard to not show how excited I am for this." Roxana said. Barely moving, other than a subtle shaking.

Stormwright then turned to Arcee, "Sadly, he will have Windblade, a champion from the Great War, and a pair of Wreckers." She then looked back at Roxana. "You have skills he needs."

"How was the combat training?" Roxana asked.

"Even knowing he was a champion from the Great War, I still underestimated him."

"I wouldn't say champion." Jack simply stated, and then Stormwright looked back at him.

"But you were crucial to the victory?" Stormwright asked.

"Arcee might have embelished a bit." Jack stated.

"Or I just talked about how I feel about it." Arcee relied.

"But?.." Roxana asked, looking into the distance for a moment, "Arcelia... the records... from Optimus Prime himself, who was not just a Prime, but an archivist in Iacon?!"

"He helped us many times." Arcee stated, "But not as a warrior. There are a number of times that without him, we would have died, or lost something horrifying to the Decepticons. The Warrior thing came after. A way for Cybertron to recognize what he did. Jack could have easily pushed it to Exemplar, but, this is Jack."

"Is that why he did not tell us he was a Prime until the end of the assembly?" Roxana asked.

"Actually." Jack interjected, "The only reason I did is that it was in the records." Roxana gave him a confused look.

"It would have come out, anyways." Stormwright stated.

"So?" Roxana asked, "You would never have told us?"

"If I could have." Jack stated.

"Then why are you on this quest?" Roxana asked.

"Because she was right: I didn't try." Jack simply replied, "And... everyone seems to want some kind of closure to this. I'll pursue this to the depths of Cybertron if I have to."

"Well, we might need to come back for food." Arcee stated.

"We can pack for six months instead of three." Jack replied.

"Such a long time for someone so small." Roxana stated.

"He is in the prime of his youth." Stormwright stated.

* * *

They stood in a square with statues to the fallen of Caminus, most of which died when The War finally found it's way here. Collected was Jack and his mother, Arcee and Sirenia, Windblade, Arcelia, and Roxana. All eyes were on Jack, "For those who haven't met, I am Jack Darby."

"The Human Prime." Arcelia stated

"Which we're going to keep quiet about." Arcee said accusingly.

"Next is my mother, June Darby."

June raised her hand above her head to wave at those so much bigger than her, "Hi."

"I thought she was not going to accompany us?" Windblade harshly asked.

"You're just dropping me off at home." June said.

"We'll need to spend time on Terra to get the supplies we'll need." he paused, "The supplies me and Miko will need."

"Any transformer that can miniaturize can help with the cooking!" June excitedly stated.

"That's not..." Arcee stated.

"Then what do you call it?" Windblade quickly asked.

"I don't..." Arcee uttered.

"Micronization?" Sirenia asked.

"Uh?.." Arcee uttered.

"Miniforming?" Sirenia asked, and Arcee didn't say anything, "Cuddleforming?" Arcee glared at her without saying anything.

"She does it to hold hands." Jack said, and Arcee shot him a sharp glare. "Do it." Arcee glared at him for a moment before transforming into her motorcycle. She then transformed back, this time only 8 feet tall. Jack held out his hand, and she looked about nervously as she let him take it. Jack then pulled her in for a passionate kiss. When he let go she grew to 10ft.

"I'm still... uh... working on the stability. I think 8ft is the most I can push, but 10 seems to be a lot easier to hold."

"Waifuification?" Sirenia asked, and Jack glared at her.

"When did Miko have a chance to teach you that?" Jack asked, and Sirenia wanted to answer, but forced herself to not. "Tell me." he firmly said to her.

"It was Arcee."

Jack turned to glare at Arcee, whom nervously averted her gaze.

"Dollification?" Arcelia asked.

"Dollforming?" June asked.

Arcee turned to glare at her, but Jack could tell the look said she kind of liked the idea.

"Onaholification." Sirenia stated.

"I'm going to kill Miko." Jack uttered.

"That one I learned from the internet." Sirenia said, "Along with a good deal number of other words."

"I told you that internet was a bad idea." Arcee said to jack.

"Stepfordforming?" June asked, and then got a look of complete non-recognition from everyone but Sirenia. "Jack?" she asked, and nothing came forward. "I failed in raising you." she joked. "Although, to be honest, it really isn't that good of a movie."

"So, what are you going to call it?" Windblade neutrally asked, and looked at Jack.

He breathed in deep, trying to steel himself. "If I need to choose."

"You do." Windblade strongly stated.

"Dollform?" Jack nervously asked.

"Dollform it is." Windblade stated.

"Wait, seriously?" he asked.

"You are not just a Prime, but a representation of your Humans. I can see no one more qualified to decide on it." She then looked to Arcee, then Sirenia, then Arcelia and Roxana, "I will advise you to take into account the instability when using this form."

"Which is why I've never tried to sleep that way." Arcee stated.

"I'm sure it will help with your Human reproductive things." Windblade stated. "Not that we can even interface." As she said this, Arcee, Sirenia, and June developed nervous smiles. "You can't be serious, we can interface?"

"Afraid so." June tried to neutrally say.

"And it's incredible." Arcee said. Sirenia smiled brightly at this.

Roxana: Motorcycle

I was originally going to call her Red Light.

#transformers #prime #the prime of his youth #darcee #jack darby #arcee

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fem-blade-adept · 1 year

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Intro to Cinder. Reworked her backstory to (once again) make her how I wanted her to be over how I had to make her. @ebevkisk

Drawn From Death

Lights. Colors. Flashes. Sounds drifted in and out of coherence. People wandering the street. Nothing she could make out. Her head pounded with blistering pain.

She pressed her hand against the door and shoved it open. Her vision, still very clouded, told her she was in a bar. In a drunken stupor, she slowly stumbled towards what she assumed was an empty corner table. The room slowly fell silent as she sat down, head thudding with a deep set pain that she felt in her soul.

Her vision slowly started to clear as she looked up to see the entire bar staring at her in utter confusion and terror. She looked down to see her clothes covered in layers of dirt and mud. She had felt the rain, but just now began to process the water that had soaked into her (very nice) clothes and that had rested on her rose pink skin. On her head, she felt her blood red hair and two horns sprouting from her head like a bull.

She tried to remember something, anything. A name, a friend, just a detail that she could latch on to so she could piece together who she was, but nothing came. As her body continued to return to normalcy, she doubled over in pain as she touched her stomach. In her belly was a wound, probably from a sword. By the width, it seemed like it came from a katana. Why did she know that and not her name? Or what happened yesterday? Or last week?

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. Can I get you anything?” A half-elven waitress said, jogging her out of her head.

“Oh yeah, uh…” Checking her pockets, she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find she was flat broke. “Sorry, I don’t have any money on me.”

The waitress nodded. “It’s on the house, hun.”

With a nod, she answered. “Just the special and one of whatever you have on tap then.”

The waitress bowed and disappeared.

“Ok,” she thought, “So, gathering what I know about myself, I’m a tiefling who got stabbed with a katana. Don’t know where I am or how I got here. Oh yeah, and I look like I crawled out of a grave.”

Her memory flashed. Dirt, no air, a deep feeling of magic flowing through the cuts in her skin, rain, oxygen entering her lungs. Pulling herself out of the ground. She glanced over at her hand and there it was. The same glowing symbols of the infernal runes for “aberration”.

“I did crawl out of a grave. I’m not dead or a ghost though. Maybe I was at one point though.” The tiefling said quietly to herself.

The waitress dropped off the meal without a word. The tiefling continued to try to jog her memory while she ate, but nothing came to mind. She rifled through her pockets, but nothing came of it. Only dirt and lint, though, apparently, she had transitioned from being a boy.

She chugged the rest of her ale, stood up, and shuffled back out into the rain, this time, with a purpose. As she stood there, she felt a deep rooted instinct rise within her as she ducked, spun, and disarmed the man who had just tried to shoot her. Pulling the pistol from the ground, taking his ammo pouch and kicking him back into the pub, she inspected it to find a fully automatic lever action pistol.

The man looked horrified. “How the FUCK did you do that?”

The tiefling turned, a devilish rage welling up inside her. “Do you just kill strangers around here? I wasn’t a threat to you and, yet, you think you can just kill me and walk away.”

The man backed up. “You…y-you we’re supposed to be dead. You WERE dead. We all saw your corpse. They carried you into town and buried you in an unmarked grave.”

The tiefling walked back to the man, pulled the sniper that was still hanging from his back. Truly a gun that he did not take care of but it was salvageable. She would give it more love than he did.

Her eyes glowed with arcane rage, she could feel it. “Any other weapons you got?” She said, anger searing its way deeper into his psyche. He sat, petrified as she dug through to find several knives and a katana. The blade was just a little too small to be the one that killed her.

The tiefling fixed all of the weapons onto her belt and swung the sniper onto her back. “Now that that’s out of the way…” She didn’t have a name, but that’s ok. What was a name, but a label. She would make one up. “My name is Cinder and if you know what’s good for you, you will tell me who brought me into town and where they went.”

#cinder the blood hunter

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flxttxr · 2 years

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how about a connor stoll x reader who grew up w him (basically they arrived at camp at the same time) and they go on a quest together where they flirt back and forth bc of their forced proximity??

smth like this, feel free to change the request!

Of course!!

Connor Stoll x Childhood Reader

You and Connor had been best friends, ever since you arrived at Camp Half-Blood. You liked the twins’ nature, but you felt a little bit closer to Connor. As he was younger than Travis, he was slightly more reckless. Still, you all were best buddies. You and the twins pranked the demigods a lot. You all got along really well, but maybe, you got along with Connor a bit too well.

It was obvious to everyone that you and Connor liked each other. Your friends, Travis, everyone consoled you that Connor liked you, but you still had your doubts. Sure, you both flirted a lot, but what if he didn’t mean it? Sometimes, he did get unusually close to you, but what if it just meant he was comfortable with you in a sibling-like way? Gods, this was confusing.

Anyways, you had trouble finding out what Connor felt. He had trouble too. But, something strange happened which helped you both find out how you both felt.

Last week, something fishy had been going on in the forest. Nobody could put their finger on it, so Chiron decided to ask the Oracle. And the Oracle conjured an, ah, special prophecy:

“The youngest of the Stolls’

answer nature’s call.

He travels with the

youngest child of Demeter into the

forest where they will find

themselves surprised.”

Now, the prophecy was pointing to you and Connor. Obviously. It was like the spirit of Delphi got tired of your poor communication skills and decided to set you up herself.

So, the next day, you and Connor headed for the forest. Being a child of Demeter, you had a special skill with swords, so you could fight rather well. Connor was also a great fighter, so you both made a good team.

“Uh,” you asked. “Where are we supposed to go? like, which part of the forest? The Oracle didn’t tell us that, did it?”

Connor shook his head. “Nope.”

“Well, we should go East, since that’s the last place we saw the dryad.” you mused.

Connor grinned. “Yeah, you’re smart. And pretty cute.”

You puffed out your cheeks which were quite red. “Shut up, pretty boy.”

Connor laughed, and so did you. You were grateful for his company. He was a ray of sunshine, literally.

After an hour of walking, you sat down under a tree. You were tired. Connor sat next to you, perhaps a bit too close. Your shoulders were touching. Connor didn’t seem affected, and he drank his bottle of water like this was normal.

“Hey,” Connor offered you the water bottle. “You good? You seem, red. Like, really red. Are you sure you didn’t piss off Apollo? He might’ve cursed you with a sunburn.” He laughed at his joke.

You snorted as you reached for the water. Unintentionally, while grasping for the bottle, you ended up grasping Connor’s hand. You could see a light tint of pink on his cheeks.

You chuckled nervously, as you drank from the bottle. When you were finished drinking, you handed him back the bottle, only to see Connor smirking.

“Wh—” you began, but then it hit you. You and Connor had indirectly kissed. Gods, he planned this, didn’t he?

“Well,” he teased. “The reaction on your face was certainly satisfying to see, but, I wonder about the look on your face when we actually kiss.”

You gulped. Was this actually happening? Butterflies flew in your stomach, and a lump in your throat prevented you from speaking.

Connor smirked. “Honestly? You look so goddamn cute right now, I could kiss you. Speaking of that— may I?

You realized he was asking for your consent. God, could this man get any hotter? Still unable to speak, you nodded. Connor grinned as he leaned in slowly. You could feel his mint-scented breath on your lips. One arm slowly went behind your back, holding it comfortably. The other hand was on the ground. Your lips were a millimeter away. And he kissed.

His lips were soft, moving slowly. His tongue was tracing your lips. The kiss was intimate and amazing.

You and Connor broke apart from the kiss to breathe. Both of you were red, breathing heavily for air, and had a small smile painted across your face.

“Well,” Connor got up casually, like you all kissing had never happened. “Let’s continue searching, shall we?”

You, open-mouthed and stunned, nodded as you got up and walked with him.

“Oh!” Connor halted. “By the way, we should do this a lot more.” He winked.

You rolled your eyes, cheek red. “Shut up and walk.”

#connor x reader #connor stoll #pjo x reader #connor and travis #riordanverse #pjo hoo toa #heros of olympus #pjo series #hoo fandom

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julek · 3 years

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my kingdom for a kiss (upon your shoulder)

read on ao3 | rated T | 6.2K | no warnings | for @asweetprologue <3

The sun shines soft in Toussaint.

Geralt can’t remember whether it’s always been like that — if the golden tint that falls over the city as gently as wind-blown petals is genuine or just a product of his imagination. Spring isn’t in full bloom yet, timid flowers peeking at him from the side of the road, proud birds carrying twigs and feathers to their newly-made nests, the tree branches still cold after the last snow.

They’re not far from the main square, their pace steady and unhurried since they set out to Beauclair in the morning. The midday commotion fills Geralt’s senses, spices and bread and frantic conversations making him shake his head in discomfort — busy cities always take a while to grow used to; thankfully, he never stays long.

Next to him, Jaskier sneezes.

“This weather, I tell you—” he starts, but gets immediately cut off by another dainty, kitten-like sneeze. He wipes his nose on his sleeve, then makes a face at it. “Be the death of me.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’ll take more than pollen to take you, I fear.”

“It doesn’t stand a chance against me,” he says, and strikes a pose, like one of the heroes in the silly novels he insists on buying, but the puffy eyes and red nose dampens it a bit. He doesn’t seem deterred, though. “Besides, I wouldn’t let pollen, of all things, keep me from performing at tonight’s ball.”

Geralt hums, flicking a fly off Roach’s mane. They were in Spalla when Jaskier was approached by a passing servant and asked to partake in some baron Geralt couldn’t care enough to retain the name of’s early spring ball — naturally, Jaskier had jumped at the invitation, eager to be among the distinguished crowds that frequent such events, even more so after a long winter tucked away at Oxenfurt.

“By the way,” Jaskier says, picking an inexistent piece of lint off his doublet, aiming for casual even though he knows Geralt can hear the curious lilt to his voice, “will you be attending tonight?”

“I might not make it in time,” he says truthfully. He rubs his thumb over the contract he’s holding in his free hand, the sharp edges digging into his skin. “I will hunt this afternoon.”

Jaskier nods. “Well,” he says, his voice soft as he bumps his shoulder against Geralt’s. “You’re welcome there. I’ll vouch for you, you know.”

Geralt smiles at him solemnly — then bumps him back, laughing when the bard accidentally crashes into an old woman perusing the wares of a silver-tongued merchant.

“Geralt!” Jaskier says indignantly, smoothing out his doublet and shooting the woman a sideways glance that’s more annoyed than apologetic. “You can’t just push people.”

“Apologies,” Geralt says, not sounding sorry at all. “My balance seems to be off, lately. You know how it is.”

“With your old age, yes,” Jaskier says and pats his arm sympathetically. “I fear you’re showing signs of decay already.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, yes.” Jaskier takes his arm and loops it through his, a steadying hand at his back. “Your gait is off— look, even Roach looks concerned for your wellbeing.”

Roach looks unfazed.

“And all the lines on your face!” Jaskier gasps in mock-horror. “My, Geralt, we should take you to a healer. Perhaps you’ve been cursed— There! Those dreadful frown lines you sport, old friend… Have you considered retirement? I hear there are great Witcher-friendly settlements in this area, and— hey!”

Geralt smirks as Jaskier rubs the side of his head where Geralt’s innocent and weary hand slapped it. He can see the worn-down sign of the inn he favors when they’re in the city a few steps ahead, can already taste the fresh ale on his mouth.

“Whoops,” he says, trying to school his features into something that isn’t a smug smile. “Seems I’m losing control of my limbs, too.”

The Rose and Thorn is as it has ever been. Clean wooden floorboards that creak as they walk in, the blossoming vine hanging over the kitchen door, the innkeeper’s old dog napping in a spot of sunlight pouring in through the window.

It’s good.

Geralt likes routine. He thrives on it. He likes familiar faces and comforting smells and the sound of pans and pots banging together as the cook murmurs a string of expletives that would be considered indecorous on a lady’s mouth. He likes knowing where he stands, likes the well-loved booths and the tankards that are cracked around the edges, the face of an unruly lion faded on the ceramic. He’s pleased with the way the innkeeper’s eyes crinkle with recognition as she nods at him and Jaskier, as she wordlessly takes his coin and points her head in direction of the room he always takes.

They move upstairs, Jaskier’s lutecase hitting the narrow walls as Geralt pushes the door open. The room is simple — two beds and a small table under the tall window, light pouring in through the thin linen curtains. He sets his bag on one of the beds — the closest to the door — and puts his sheathed swords next to it before allowing himself a moment to sit and wind down.

“I’d say lunch is in order, don’t you think?” Jaskier says after a while, even though his words are muffled by the pillow he’d thrown himself face-down onto and he doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon. “I’m aching for something other than apples and jerky, if I’m honest.”

Geralt’s stomach rumbles in agreement. “Too coarse for your fine palate, bard?” He teases.

“Never,” Jaskier says, lifting an accusatory finger at where he supposes Geralt is sitting. Then, because it isn’t as dramatic as it should’ve been, he rolls over, facing Geralt, his hair sticking up at odd places and his face flushed a pretty shade of pink. “I’m well used to all kinds of provisions, but the soul wishes for something a little bit more substantial every once in a while.”

“Hmm,” Geralt concedes. He laces up his left boot tighter than the right one and stands. “Let’s go, then, man of substance.”

Jaskier grins up at him, bright and easy, and leaps out of the bed so fast the wind gets knocked out of him.

Downstairs at the bar, there are steaming bowls of pottage being sent to the patrons that are starting to overflow the room, bread and cheese abundant at every table. It must have been a fruitful winter, Geralt reasons as he nods to the barmaid and gestures to the plates.

“Ale as well, Sir Witcher?” She says as she wipes her forehead, no trace of fear in her voice. She’s probably too busy for it.

“Two, please.”

He makes his way to the table where Jaskier’s already tearing a loaf of bread in two, tapping a rhythm with his fingers on the hard wood as he looks out the window at the passersby. There’s a neatly-made arrangement of wildflowers on the wall by his side, larkspur and thistle with a touch of baby’s breath, Geralt thinks.

“Here,” he says, passing the half-full tankard over to Jaskier and taking a sip of his own.

Jaskier hands him a piece of bread. “So, what are we slaying today?”

“The only thing you’ll be slaying today is your audience’s eardrums,” Geralt says, smirking at Jaskier’s huff of indignation. He takes a bite out of the bread. “There seems to be an archespore around the vineyards.”

“An— the—” Jaskier’s face does a complicated thing and Geralt wants to point out that he looks like a gaping trout before he says, “An archespore?! This mythical— magical— never before seen creature—”

“It’s been seen plenty of times,” Geralt points out.

“Not by me!” Jaskier thumps his fist on the table, defeated, and his ale sloshes dangerously. He wipes a hand down his face. “Ugh. And I can’t even fight you on it, because I’ve got, uh, what do they call it— Geralt, help me out here, what’s the word—”

“A compromise.”

Jaskier gags. “Yes. That. I shall honor my, uh, compromise to the arts and leave you alone and defenseless before such a legendary creature. Naught but two swords and the strength of” —he looks Geralt up and down appreciatively— “roughly twelve men built like bulls to keep yourself out of harm’s way.”

Geralt lifts his eyebrows, unimpressed, and leans back on his seat as a barmaid approaches them with a bowl in each hand. “Thank you,” he tells her, and digs in.

The stew is pleasantly hot and thick with spices and vegetables, the potatoes sweet and the meat tender, and he lets a pleased rumble escape his chest.

He doesn’t get to indulge in good meals very often — when he gets the opportunity to sit down at a proper table and have a proper plate placed in front of him, the food is usually sizable and filling, but never particularly appetizing. It’s mostly overcooked, tough meat — if he can afford it — and out-of-season vegetables that remind him of dried-out fields rather than a lavish banquet.

Jaskier is used to them, though. Or was — right before he was hit on the head with a chunk of stale bread and had the brilliant idea to trail after a Witcher, to trade comfortable beds and roasted pheasants for a hard bedroll spread on the forest floor and charred squirrel, at best. It still intrigues Geralt, watching Jaskier roll up his sleeves and dig into the pottage like it’s the finest meal he’s ever tasted, like it doesn’t pale in comparison to what he’ll be served tonight. Like he doesn’t see it — the immensity of the gap between Geralt’s world and his own.

There are moments of hesitation — moments when Geralt thinks Jaskier will wake up. When he thinks the bard will look around and shake his head in astonished confusion, and his blue eyes will widen comically like they do when he’s caught slipping treats to Roach, and he’ll see through the desperately-sewn seams of Geralt’s life. He’ll see that behind the so-called heroics and martyrdom there’s nothing more than a Witcher and a horse and a lonely road ahead.

But then, just when Geralt’s doubts start to creep into his hairline and show on his face, Jaskier will prove him wrong. Like now, as Jaskier lets his spoon fall into his empty bowl and leans back on his seat, sighing happily, nothing but contentment and warmth on his scent. As he watches through the window again, with a smile that dimples his cheek and sunlight crinkling his eyes.

Geralt feels something touch his leg. When he looks down, the innkeeper’s dog is resting his chin on Geralt’s thigh, his eyes big and pleading.

He picks up a hard bit of bread Jaskier had set aside earlier and carefully brings it up to the dog’s nose for inspection. After a few curious sniffs, the dog gently takes it out of Geralt’s hand, tail wagging excitedly. His fur is soft where Geralt smoothes it out with the flat of his palm, softer than Roach’s mane.

When he looks up, Jaskier’s eyes have abandoned the window, and he’s watching the two of them with a smile that’s half fond, half soft. Too tender.

Geralt’s never been looked at like that. With care. Like he’s something precious, something to be treasured.

It feels inadequate, and he pats the dog’s head to hide the almost imperceptible tremble of his hand. Jaskier’s smile reaches his eyes, and doesn’t waver.

It’s good.

The soft breeze wafting through the window as Geralt straps his swords to his back is tempting.

Jaskier yawns.

“You sure you don’t wanna get a nap in before you,” he yawns again, “go?”

He’s sprawled on his bed in a position that just can’t be comfortable, limbs long and bent at weird angles, pants unbuttoned and doublet resting on the back of a chair. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks are pink from the meal and the impending sleep that will follow.

“I’ve read, somewhere,” he continues, forcefully wrestling with the blankets that are firmly tucked into the bed, “ah, that napping increases, um— aha!” He wiggles under the covers. “It increases your strength, sharpens your” — a yawn — “mind, and whatnot.”

“Hmm.” Geralt adjusts his potion belt. “And how’s that worked out for you?”

Jaskier squints at him, managing to stay awake just to be annoyed. “See? You just continue proving my point! That,” he says, gesturing vaguely at Geralt with a half-covered hand, “would easily be fixed with one tiny nap!”

“Your naps are never tiny.”

“Well, no, because as a bard, I require more energy than a Witcher. Besides,” he says, closing his eyes, “I never seem to get enough sleep, you see, since I keep getting assaulted by this beast of a man who thinks dawn is already late.”

Geralt snorts and walks over to his bed. “Should put a contract out, then. A Witcher may come across it.”

Jaskier turns around, facing Geralt. “Oh, no, thank you. One Witcher is enough for me.” Geralt can hear the smile in his voice, though.

Checking he’s got everything he needs, and closing the open windows for good measure, Geralt turns to Jaskier. “I’m going. Stay here.”

This time, it’s Jaskier who has to snort. “Napping, remember?”

Geralt hums. “Don’t sleep through your performance,” he says, closing the door behind him, and the sounds of Jaskier tossing and turning while making indignant sounds makes him smirk.

The walk to the vineyard doesn’t take long. He passes the district alderman’s house on his way over, discusses the payment and whatever information he has to offer about the vineyard itself and the archespore sightings. The man’s face goes white when Geralt asks about any late violent crime.

The sun is still high in the sky when he gets to the heart of the vineyard, the earth uneven and freshly dug up. The victims’ bodies aren’t there anymore, he knows, but the archespore can’t be too far away from him. He draws out his sword and walks deeper into the field, watching the ripe grapevine sway with the wind.

There’s a vine in particular that calls his attention, thinner and bare, no grapes clinging to it. Just as he gets closer to it, it disappears under the ground. Geralt crouches and backs away, waiting to see it come back up — except when it does, it’s not just a lonely vine anymore.

The archespore stands tall and imposing, growling at Geralt as he signs Igni at it and aims for its trunk — he only gets one good blow before it buries itself under the earth. He waits again, looking for the green-brown color, and it shoots back up with renewed force, surrounding Geralt with acid-filled pods.

He casts a quick Quen and gets closer to it, choosing Aard this time as Igni causes it to relocate, and seizes the way it trembles minutely to get behind it and run his sword through its flesh. The creature growls, its jaw-shaped leaves curling around Geralt’s limbs. He struggles and manages to cast Igni at it, freeing himself as the plant relocates itself. When it sprouts back up, one of its pods blows up next to him, making him fall to the ground as the creature towers over him, its screeches deafening.

The archespore opens its forked mouth and screeches louder this time, acid shooting through its pores before Geralt can shield himself. The acid burns his skin where it reaches it, but the creature seems satisfied enough that it misses the opportunity to pin him to the ground. He reaches for his sword and lunges, casting Aard and tearing its leaves and damaging its thick stem.

This time, when it goes underground, Geralt has a feral smile on his face as he takes his Golden Oriole and upends it in his mouth. The venom stops burning for a second, and, when the archespore comes back up, its tendrils reaching for Geralt, he ducks and rolls, positioning himself behind it. The archespore screeches one final time as Geralt runs his sword from its head down to its core before it collapses to the ground, lifeless body still twitching. Geralt throws the severed head far enough that it won’t be able to reattach itself and slices up the remaining pods, their venom oozing sluggishly onto the torn-up ground.

He makes his way back to the city, the head of the archespore dripping slightly from its bag. The sun is setting, painting the walls golden against the pink sky, the shadows cast over the buildings helping the buzzing in his brain. He takes the less-traveled roads to avoid the commotion of the streets, but it seems the city is already mellowed out.

He thinks of Jaskier.

The first star of the night is twinkling against the pink-blue sky, the moon translucent. The baron’s residence is distant, surrounded by a stretch of the city’s walls, but Geralt imagines it’s close, close enough that Jaskier’s voice can carry through the night — that his soft melodies can reach them all.

He thinks of Jaskier, dressed up in his finest clothes that he had especially tailored — because I’ve filled out in the winter, Geralt! — drinking sweet wine from the vineyard he’s just left behind, mingling with the nobles and regaling them with honeyed tales of the Witcher’s heroism. The Witcher who is currently covered in muck and sticky with dried acid, carrying a severed head across the streets of Beauclair.

But Jaskier would disagree. He’d see a knight in shining armor, coming home triumphant after saving a family’s livelihood, the scars of the ferocious battle showing on his face. A defeated beast and a courageous warrior. A tale worth telling.

After dispatching the head and collecting his coin — what they’d agreed on, thankfully — Geralt heads back to the inn. The humming in his veins has simmered down, leaving behind a hint of exhaustion that clings to his bones and makes itself known. He calls for a bath, ignoring the innkeeper’s knowing look — she’s seen him trudge inside wearing worse.

Once he’s in his room, he takes his time unbuckling and sets his armor aside, a filthy pile that he’ll have to tend to eventually. After, he thinks, and sinks into the steaming tub. The room’s windows are open despite him closing them before leaving, tacit proof of Jaskier’s aversion for closed spaces and feeling oppressed, Witcher, and his distinct lack of self-preservation. Geralt’s chastised him enough about being easy prey, but there’s something in the way the bard moves that makes him want to protect, rather than prevent — he’d rather be the one to free Jaskier from his cage than be the one to lock him there in the first place. Not that Jaskier would ever let himself be locked away — he’s feisty enough on his own — but something about him screams freedom.

Geralt can’t take it away — wouldn’t ever want to. So he lets the cool air enter the room.

His bed is neatly made, pillows fluffed and sheets crisp. Next to it is Jaskier’s — somehow, pillows are on the floor and the sheets are turned inside out, twisted like a serpent around the blanket. His side of the room looks like it’s been a victim of a cruel whirlwind — clothes and accessories are strung about the room, picked up only to be frowned at and then put back down.

It’s tempting enough; to crawl under the covers and blow out the candles and get a half-decent night of sleep. Maybe get something to eat from the bar downstairs. Maybe drink some ale. But—

I’ll vouch for you, you know.

He knows.

It’s a beautiful night, in truth.

The ball is being hosted in the halfmoon-shaped garden, the cool spring breeze dancing around the guests as they dance themselves, carried away. Moonlight and candlelight alike wash over the cobblestone, a few delicate and intricate paper lanterns placed over a wooden railing casting gentle shadows on the whole scene. There are flowers all around — on tall vases in every corner and on the small centerpieces at every table, on the open hand of every statue and weaved into delicate crowns for everyone to wear.

It isn’t like anything Geralt’s seen before. He’s been to many balls — begrudgingly — but never one in which everyone carries themselves so freely, where raucous laughter is allowed if not mandatory, where not one person sits alone at their table, instead gathered around savoring the food, where there are chairs but no one sitting on them because they’re so busy prancing around the yard, marveling at the flowers and the outfits and the beauty of the night. Where everyone seems to be there because they want to be — because they belong.

He’s standing by a pillar, not hidden but not in plain sight, either. He tightens his jacket around himself, half to fend off the chill of the night air and half to hide the stain on the chemise underneath — a dangerous encounter with a drunk Jaskier and a goblet of wine. His leather band is on his wrist tonight, his silver hair tickling the spot behind his ear and catching on the high collar of his shirt. People are still coming in through the garden gates, the path to the grounds lit by small candles by each side of it, couples strolling hand-in-hand across the grounds and children running around, their flower crowns hanging off their heads.

There’s no music yet, just conversation carrying the night away. He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat somewhere in the gardens, but hasn’t seen him yet — perhaps he’s encountered one of his old dalliances and is catching up, as he’s often done before.

Geralt moves to the balcony with the stone railing, the one looking out to the lake. The waves are calm tonight, gently rippling back and forth, shimmering under the stars. He leans his elbows on the railing, feeling very small as he looks down.

Heights used to scare him when he was a child. It’s one of the only things he can remember. His house sat on a small hill, and every night, after his mother went to sleep, he would tiptoe across the kitchen and open the window, and he would look down and feel terror beat inside his chest, gripping his heart like a vine.

Now, as he looks down, he can see the scrape of the stones jutting out of the earth, the clear beach beneath him. He can see the boats resting on the shore and the stars reflecting on the water. Looking down, he just feels at ease.

The sound of children protesting catches his attention. When he looks back to the courtyard, he can see two small children — siblings, he presumes — looking at their mother with very exaggerated frowns on their tiny faces.

“You mustn’t use your sister’s dress as a cleaning rag, Petyr,” she says to the boy as she tries to wipe down the girl’s gown.

“But the floors here needed cleaning!” Petyr responds, petulant. “You told us things should be squeaky-clean.”

His mother is about to reply when suddenly a voice cuts in. “And your mother is right, of course,” says Jaskier, winking at her and meeting her smile of relief with one of his own. “But this is a party! You’re meant to have fun, you and your sister! Don’t you like to dance?”

Petyr and his sister shake their heads. “We don’t know how to,” she admits.

Jaskier’s grin is wide. “Well, then you must be born singers!” At that, the girl smiles.

“Mama says our singing sounds more like a dying wyvern’s last breath,” she says simply, and it makes Jaskier laugh, “but we like to sing anyway.”

“And you should! Singing is the way our soul gets to have a laugh,” he says knowingly, and slowly takes his lute out of his case. “I don’t suppose you know what this is?”

The children’s eyes light up. “A lute!”

Jaskier laughs. “That’s right!” He holds it out to them. “Here, try a strum.”

The children look at each other, then at the lute like it’s something precious. Geralt knows it is. “You go first, Fiona,” the boy whispers to his sister.

Fiona approaches the lute carefully, and holds out her little hand. Jaskier takes it on his own, then gently, very gently, he runs her hand through the strings. It’s a simple chord, and Jaskier’s holding the note, but Fiona looks blown away. “Wow,” she whispers. “It’s so… pretty.”

Geralt can see the way Jaskier’s mouth quirks up and his eyes go soft at the corners. It tugs at his heartstrings.

“Now,” Jaskier says, “Do you want to try, Petyr?”

The boy nods, coming forward. He knows what to do, having watched his sister, so he simply lifts his hand and strums. Jaskier’s changed the chord, a lower one now.

“Wonderful!” Jaskier exclaims, and applauds the both of them, making their cheeks flush. “Naturals, the both of you.”

Petyr’s hand is still on the lute, feeling the strings and reaching the pegs. “And what do these do?” He says just as he turns one of them, the string deflating slightly.

Geralt wants to laugh at Jaskier’s pained grimace as he tightens the string back as he explains to Petyr that he should leave those to the adults, but suddenly he feels a pool of warmth in his stomach, an ache in his chest he hasn’t felt before — as if all the spring’s air has been stolen from him.

He watches Jaskier play a silly little ditty for the children to dance with their very amused mother, and he can’t look away. Can’t stop staring at the way Jaskier’s eyes crinkle with joy and his face is full of laugh lines and his own flower crown threatens to fall down, small yellow petals gathering at his feet.

And the thing is — he knows Jaskier. He knows he’s kind, and thoughtful, and painfully honest. He knows he feels everyone’s pain as his own, everyone’s joy as his own.

Everyone’s love as his own.

He knows that he’ll play silly made-up songs for bored children just as he knows he’ll gather herbs for Geralt’s potions without being asked to, just as he’ll buy treats for Roach, just as he’ll carefully avoid the fork on the road to Blaviken.

He sees it, now — the way his face is lit up but not from candlelight but from within, because he’s so in love with the world that he can barely stand it.

And he’s seen him before — has watched his furrowed brow illuminated by wavering candles as he writes well past dusk, has seen the curl of his mouth and the freckles on his nose and the scar that goes through his left eyebrow and yet—

Yet it feels like he’s seeing him for the first time.

There’s a smudge of ink on Jaskier’s cheek. There always is. There always has been.

Geralt’s never wanted to wipe it off.

He wants to wipe it off, wants to tuck his hair back behind his ear and kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck. He wants to hold him close to his chest tight enough that maybe he’ll crawl into his heart and never leave.

It should scare him. It should feel like standing at the top of a hill and looking down.

It doesn’t.

Jaskier walks into the stage, a space of elevated marble he supposes a statue had been resident of. It suits him, the small pedestal — the way the golden thread of his dark green doublet glitters when moonlight catches it makes something ethereal of him, the few fallen flowers of his crown tangled on his hair — now tousled and matted with sweat — making something beautiful of him.

“Yes, yes, I’ve returned with more!” He exclaims at the whistles and cheers from the crowd, who’ve undoubtedly fallen in love with his first set. “We’re changing things up a bit now— How would you feel about something softer for a change?”

People cheer again, and Jaskier’s face breaks into a blinding grin. “Perfect! Now,” he looks around, “I want you to find the people you love. Your spouse, your lover, your friend, your sister, your child— everyone and anyone your heart beats for.”

The crowd starts gathering around in different groups, and Geralt smiles at how mismatched they are — tiny children and their grandparents, groups of single maidens hugging each other tightly, couples tenderly embracing each other.

Jaskier’s smile is softer, this time. “There,” he whispers. “Because love is something to share— This song I’m sharing with you.”

And then he’s gone — all his stage-borne facade falls away as he starts to play. His fingers are plucking a gentle, easy melody, and he’s humming along. People start slowly swaying to the sound of his voice, their eyes bright and shiny with mirth and love. Then, very softly, his voice barely above a whisper, he sings,

“Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you…”

It’s incredibly gentle, and Geralt feels drawn to it immediately. He watches as Jaskier sways with the music, eyes closed and brow furrowed, completely lost on it. There are buttercups on his hair and love in his mouth and Geralt suddenly wants to reach for him, put out his hand only for Jaskier to hold.

Jaskier opens his eyes as the last verse comes in. “Take my hand,” he sings, and he does a brave thing and looks into Geralt’s eyes. “Take my whole life, too.”

He would.

“For I can’t help,” he says with a smile, and looks out to the public. “Falling in love with you.”

The song ends, but Jaskier keeps playing the chord progression softly. The crowd isn’t there anymore — they’re all somewhere else, holding their beloved in tender arms and swaying to the tune of their love. As Jaskier’s playing slowly fades out, there is no applause, no enthusiastic cheering nor plea for an encore.

They all know.

Geralt’s looking out to the waves when Jaskier joins him by the railing.

“Hey,” he whispers.

Geralt turns to face him. “Hey,” he whispers back.

Jaskier’s smile is soft as he takes him in. “You came.”

“I did,” Geralt says, voice low. “Was told someone would be waiting for me.”

“And here I am.”

The waves crash against the rocks.

“That was a new one,” Geralt murmurs, looking at the scar on his knuckle. “The song.”

“It was,” Jaskier replies simply.

Geralt looks at him. “I liked it.” It’s no big compliment, but Jaskier seems to understand him all the same.

He always does.

“I’m glad,” he says. “I like it too.”

He leans his elbows on the railing, their shoulders almost touching. Jaskier’s cheek is still smudged with ink.

“You have…” Geralt says, gesturing to his own face, and Jaskier frowns at him. Geralt shakes his head. He licks his thumb and reaches, Jaskier’s skin soft as he swipes the ink away, his mouth slightly parted.

“There,” he whispers, but his hand doesn’t leave Jaskier’s cheek. “Do they really say it?”

Jaskier frowns, confused. Their shoulders are touching. “Who?”

Geralt reaches for Jaskier’s flower crown and looks at him, a silent request. Jaskier nods. Geralt takes it in his hands and gently tucks the loose stems back together, the way he’d seen girls do it in the town square. He doesn’t lose a single petal.

“The wise men,” he says, placing the crown on top of Jaskier’s head, where it belongs. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Jaskier takes them in his. “It is foolish to rush in unprepared. You taught me that.”

“Am I wise, then?”

Jaskier laughs, shakes his head. “I never said that.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet, watching Jaskier’s rings as they glint in the moonlight, watching Jaskier’s fingers as they play with his.

“I love you, you know,” Jaskier murmurs, looking at their joined hands.

“I know.”

“You’re my best friend.”

Geralt looks at him. “I know.”

He needs the weight of his swords strapped at his back. He wants to be brave.

He looks down.

“I love you,” he says. “I can’t help it.”

Jaskier smiles. “Well, now you’re just being mean— plagiarizing my song right in front of me.”

“Jask.” It sounds like a prayer. Geralt squeezes his hands, amber meeting cornflower blue. “You know what I mean, when I say—”

“I know what you mean,” Jaskier says. “I know.”

They drink each other in, and Geralt knows this is the first time they’re seeing each other. Gently, he places one hand on the small of Jaskier’s back, the other on his nape, and brings their foreheads together.

Jaskier’s hands find their way to Geralt’s waist. Nobody’s ever held him like that. With care. Like he’s something precious, something to be treasured.

His nose grazes Jaskier’s cheek and he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

And Jaskier’s smiling when he says, “I wish you would.”

So he does. Soft lips against chapped ones, lute-calloused hands against scarred ones. Jaskier kisses him back tenderly, unhurried, and it’s honey-sweet like the wine he can taste on Jaskier’s mouth, like the love he can feel on his scent.

When they pull apart — only because they have to — Geralt circles Jaskier in his arms, pressing small kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, his nose, his forehead. It makes him laugh.

“Tickles,” he says, and there’s a smile in his voice. “Your beard.”

Geralt presses a final, lingering kiss to his mouth. “Sorry,” he whispers against his lips.

The party has carried on without them, as it is wont to do. There’s a harp player on the stage now, plucking a soft melody from its strings.

Jaskier’s eyes are bright when he looks up at him. It feels right, to be holding him like this, to drown in his warmth and press love into his hands like it’s all he can do — and it is. All he can do is watch into Jaskier’s eyes and try not to get lost in them and stop a smitten smile from curling on his lips.

He’s helpless, he knows. It doesn’t scare him anymore.

“Home?” Jaskier murmurs against his cheek.

The inn, he means. “Aren’t you playing?”

Jaskier’s mouth curls into a mischievous smile, one of Geralt’s favorites. “They’ll survive without me, I reckon.”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “Jaskier—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” he protests, rolling his eyes. “We need the coin. Ugh— one would think the guy confessing his undying love—”

“Now, undying is—”

“His undying love for me would change things, would buy me some indulgence— not at all!” He buries his face in Geralt’s neck, letting out a long-suffering groan. “Why must you be so responsible all the time?”

There are many reasons. Looking at Jaskier’s flushed face and capricious frown, Geralt can’t remember any of them. “Go,” he says softly, nodding at the stage. “For me.”

Jaskier groans louder. “That,” he says, poking Geralt’s chest, “is a very unfair card to play.”

“And why’s that?”

Jaskier tangles their fingers together. “Because you know I would do anything for you.”

Geralt’s face softens. He knows. “Go. I’ll wait for you.”

Defeated, Jaskier looks at the stage, then at Geralt, pouting. “Won’t you at least kiss me farewell? I’ve a long journey ahead.”

It’s Geralt’s turn to roll his eyes — still, he reels Jaskier in and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Great start!” Jaskier says cheerfully. “Now, like you mean it.”

“Insufferable,” Geralt murmurs, but he gives in. The kiss is deep and slow, and somehow full of promise. He can feel Jaskier sigh happily against his lips, his scent gone sweet and warm as Geralt’s hands find Jaskier’s sides.

They part, begrudgingly. Jaskier’s cheeks are deep pink and his flower crown sits askew on his head once again, so Geralt fixes it for him.

“We should get one for you,” the bard says, watching him.

“Hmm.” Geralt presses a final kiss to his lips. “Go.”

“I’m getting you one,” Jaskier says stubbornly, ignoring Geralt’s wish, and Geralt loves him too much. “Just wait here.”

He lets Jaskier go, and watches as he runs over to the stand where a young woman is weaving tulips and baby’s breath together into a crown. He watches as he excitedly gestures at it and cradles it in his tender hands, a look of genuine joy on his face. He watches as he turns around, his lips stretched into a too-wide grin as he waves at Geralt, pointing at the crown.

He watches as he walks toward him.

He waits for him to fit into his open arms. He waits for him to place the crown on top of his head and adjust it once, twice, before it’s deemed perfect. He waits for him to kiss his cheek and groan about having to return to his duty as entertainment for the evening.

He waits for him as he plays.

“I love you,” he tells him later, when they’re both tucked in bed and their fancy clothes have been folded and their legs are tangled together.

Jaskier grins. “Say it again.”

Geralt can’t hide the smile that curves his lips — he doesn’t want to. “I love you,” he says, and kisses his cheek. “I love you,” his forehead, “I love you,” his eyelids. “I love you,” his mouth.

He says it so much the words sound foreign in his mouth. He says it until they belong in his mouth again.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says after a while, candlelight framing the tenderness in his eyes. “It’s been good.”

Geralt smiles.

It has.

#mywriting #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfic #geraskier fluff #jeff buckley lyrics my beloved

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skellebonez · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Winter!

Hey @winterpower98 it's your birthday! I really hope you enjoy this, I know I had a ton of fun writing it for you! Actor AU is one of my favorite AUs you've made and coming back to play around with it again was a blast and a half!

Painter MK cackled, taking the brushes filled with bright pink paint into his fists.

“Yes, yes!” He exclaimed, brushing them against his cheeks and bringing another to run up the center of his face. “The art is-OW! OW, THE ART IS IN MY EYE!”

“Cut!” The director yelled, bringing the entire film production to a halt in an instant. “Xiaotian, what happened?”

The young actor dropped the paintbrushes into the hands of a stage worker to rushed over to help him, one hand covering his right eye as he tried to keep himself from laughing. “I think some of it splashed when I waved the brush at my face. I guess the art really IS-”

“Don’t say it,” Heshang said from the other side of the set, doing his best not to join his co-star in laughter.

“-seeping into my pores!”

The entire cast and crew groaned as Xiaotian cackled again, with a few added ows, before another stage hand came by with a bottle of water.

~3…2…1~

“Uh…” Xiaojiao pulled, attempting to pull the prop sword from above her head out of the wall only to be met with… a lot more resistance than should probably be there. “UH…? It’s stuck?”

She stood, attempting to pull it out normally only to be met with just as much resistance.

“It’s stuck!” She laughed, out, bracing a foot on the wall with no change.

“Let me try,” General Ironclad, or rather Red in the costume of General Ironclad for the episode, offered, attempting to do the same with the exact same result as his co-star. “What did you use to hold this in place? Cement!?”

“It should have only been stuck in with force!” A stage hand yelled as Xiaotian and Heshang joined in, both failing to pull the sword out from the false wall and Heshang nearly toppling over backwards with his additional costume pieces.

“Whoever stuck that in there needs to be moved to making sure the safety equipment stays connected!” Xiaotian offered, watching as even more people tried to remove the sword. “That is not coming out.”

~3…2…1~

Heshang held Mo in his arms, waltzing around the set as he waited for places to be called for with the shockingly content feline in his arms.

~3…2…1~

“You are selling beautiful vegetables today?” Pigsy said, leaning over the the display to give an awkward smile to the disguised Spider Queen.

Tang looked over the produce from where he knelt, looking back up at his companion with a concerned and confused look. “Are you… a-are-PFT-FUCK.”

Everyone on set burst into laughter as Tang did, both of his fellow actors holding back from laughing themselves.

“Why is it this line!?” Tang yelled in frustration as he continued laughing. “It’s not a hard line! I wrote this line! Why do I keep laughing at the last word!?”

“Maybe if Ganglie wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at me you’d keep straight face,” Zhi-Zhu Jing managed to get out through her laughter.

“That’d be the only thing straight about me.”

~3…2…1~

Dicky Cheung, or the actual Sun Wukong disguised as a human actor in full costume of himself, took a running leap and jumped onto the counter of Pigsy’s noodles, sliding to a perfect stop with a wink toward the camera.

~3…2…1~

“MK, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mei said, looking at MK with sparkles in her eyes before snickering. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s hard enough to keep a straight face during this scene!”

“Sorry!” Xiaotian yelled to the camera. “I can’t help it! How are Jin and Yin this wrong about these two in the show?”

“Himbos!” was the shouted answer from Tang at the other end of the set.

~3…2…1~

“One of the rare talents that no one knew the great Sun Wukong possessed…” Xiaojiao said ominously, camera panning over to Mr. Cheung in full costume. “Surprisingly good peach juggling!”

“Gotta keep myself occupied somehow!” The actor laughed out, catching two peaches in either hand while the last one was caught perfectly in his mouth to the applause of everyone watching.

~3…2…1~

“Thanks for the Key los-AH!”

Red flung his arms wildly, key flying into the air as Tie Shan rushed forward and caught him just before he face planted into the ground.

“Mine!” Mr. Cheung yelled as he caught the key mid air and rushed through the frame.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THIS EPISODE!”

~3…2…1~

“Thank you… for giving me all o-ooh, whoa!” Lui Er Mihou, or unbeknownst to nearly all Six-Eared Macaque in disguise much the same way as Sun Wukong was, yelped as the cable that was supposed to gently raise him and make him look like he was floating yoinked him as good 4 feet off the ground way too fast. “That’s too much power!”

“SORRY!” The line operator shouted, fiddling with the controls. “Someone loaded the weight setting for Xiaotian into your line instead of yours.”

“I already feel bad enough treating him like garbage and beating him up in this role, this is just rubbing salt in the wound,” Liu Er muttered, leaning back and swinging limply much to the amusement of everyone who couldn’t hear him before raising his voice. “When will my beloved friend Sun Wukong come to rescue me?”

“SPEAK MY NAME AND I SHALL APPEAR!”

Liu Er yelped in surprise as Mr. Cheung rushed in and grabbed him from beneath to hold him bridal style with a shit eating grin. He couldn't help the flush on his cheeks in response.

“HOW DO YOU KEEP SHOWING UP IN SHOTS WHEN YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE YET!?” The director yelled with more than a little amusement in his voice despite the disruption.

~3…2…1~

“You!” DBK said, rounding on Red Son. “You have brought me nothing but failure! Time and time again! I keep telling you I… shit, I can’t remember the next line when you look that sad, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing but disappointment?” Red offered helpfully, immediately breaking out of his downcast somber gaze to the floor with a wide smile.

“It is scary how fast you get in and out of character sometimes, kid,” Niu Mowang laughed out, clearly resisting the urge to ruffle the younger actor’s hair lest he ruin the styling job that took far too long every time they got dressed.

~3…2…1~

The White Bone Spirit stood at the entrance to the Silken Web Cave, looking at the camera before far too much time passed from when she was supposed to say he line. She moon walked backwards out of the frame without changing her expression one bit as the other actors devolved into cackles.

~3…2…1~

“The Year of the Spider starts tonight!” Spider Queen proclaimed from her high vantage point before she muttered something under her breathe, narrowing her gaze and then looking off to the side. “Or next year ‘cause I don’t remember my line.”

~3…2…1~

Huntsman slowly lowered into frame, upside down and gripping the rigging holding him up like Spiderman.

~3…2…1~

“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong said, appearing in frame as he walked down the wall MK was embedded in. He grabbed his staff, yanking it out of the wall and jumped down and smacked the wall with it.

… only for it to go through the wall once again and crack it. Or, rather, the false wall that was on a tilted angle to make it look like he was talking down it, rather than a heavily slanted floor.

“I’m sorry!” Mr. Cheung yelled, looking at the damage he caused. “I must have hit at weak spot!”

He hoped no one noticed that when MK offered to get the prop staff for this shot and put it into the wall… he grabbed the real one by accident.

~3…2…1~

Nui Mowang held the little bird that was Wukong’s transformation stand in for one of the final scenes, gently petting the little head with a big goofy smile on his face.

~END~

The entire cast sat around on various travel tables right outside the small Lunar New Year Festival set they had set up, various extras that had answered the open invitation for the shoot going about and getting the free food that was available at the functional stalls provided by the catering they had hired.

It was an odd sight to see Red Son and Spider Queen and Sun Wukong and everyone else sitting around together, but Liu Er Mihou being there outside of his Macaque costume broke the illusion a little bit.

It was the final day of shooting for the season 2 opening special to Monkie Kid, Revenge of the Spider Queen, and everyone was there. Even people who didn’t have to come in wanted to give a temporary farewell to Tie Shan, Nui Mowang, and Red before season 2 proper began shooting. There was still a chance they could bebcalled in for bit roles, the scripts weren’t entirely finished yet, but as far as anyone knew the Demon Bull Family wasn’t going to be returning properly any time soon.

Maybe in season 3, Tang had teased, holding the begun scripts for that in his little tablet away from prying eyes. And they were always welcome to help out in bit roles, background characters or voice over or to use their other talents to work other jobs that were needed around the set.

But even before then it would be a while.

And so that’s how Red found himself sandwiched between Long Xiaojiao and Qi Xiaotian, with the newly added member of their quartet in her full White Bone Spirit costume hanging over his shoulder to watch the compilation that Xiaojiao had expertly edited on her phone for them all.

“The director gave me permission to use whatever I wanted and I though that… maybe we could all have it for ourselves,” Xiaojiao offered, pulling up the wireless transfer option on her phone. “To watch when we miss each other being on set together. I know we’re going to probably be back together with Red Son eventually! But…”

“I’ll miss shooting with you too,” Red said smiling softly as he pulled out his own phone to accept the file. “Hopefully Mr. Tang isn’t just teasing us about season 3.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #gen fic #actor au #ensemble cast #shadowpeach #(hinted)#scheduled

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lupically · 3 years

Text

#D6BB9E | BENNETT.

genre | fluff, best friends au, crush au

word count | 1777

warning | mention of burns (pyro slimes ;-;)

note | hello (〃＾▽＾〃) thank you so much for requesting from me, anonie! i hope this is what you are going for and happy reading!

request | from anon

your hands squeezed tightly around bennett's forearm before he fell too far from the peak.

"i–i got you!" you said through gritted teeth, not giving yourself a moment of spare breath as you grounded the tip of your shoes against the grass and pulled.

he was heavier than you thought. but bennett was always running and jumping around, fighting monsters and getting hurt, digging up vegetables and soiling his unclean nails. you should not be surprised if he packed some muscle weight on his shorter body from his daily adventuring.

but oh, lord barbatos, was he heavy! the effort you were putting into pulling him back to the grassy surface was made especially prevalent because of the near-death experience bennett once again put himself in.

"bennett! stop daydreaming and pull yourself up!" you hollered when you felt him slip slightly from your grip.

you had glanced at him; your shaky eyes darted from below him at the dark pit of the faraway ground to his face, which held a somewhat surprised and emotionless expression. it was not at all what you expected someone who almost fell to their death would look like.

he snapped out of his sudden trance, one that his mind inconveniently put himself under as soon as he saw your face pop up from the cliff edge. he had thought he was done for; it was probably bound to happen one day considering how he adventures with no backup nor help from anyone. your sudden appearance just served as a pleasant surprise.

"so–sorry!" he shouted, the light coming back to his brilliant green eyes.

reaching his other hand up, he grasped onto your forearm and tried to pull himself up just as you scooted your body further away from the cliff, using the ground as leverage to conjure strength and stability.

his hand was close to reaching the rocky edge, he could see. but before he could grasp the ground and hoist himself back on a surface, his eyes widened at the redness that emerged—jumped—above your laying body.

you could sense the panic in his eyes. furrowing your brows, you followed his gaze to look behind your shoulder to find a giant pyro slime that had jumped above your head. your gaze rounded at the heated creature—oh no. it would not squish you, you know, but it would definitely burn you with the heat radiating off its watery body.

ugh. watery pyro slime... what juxtaposition.

your fingers curled around bennett's forearm to prevent yourself from dropping him, which sacrificed your ability to utilize your catalyst. squeezing your eyes tightly, you turned your head to the ground and told yourself a burnt back would be much, much better than a dead friend. besides, barbara's water healing would counter with burns well so you should be fine!

the sound of a blade cutting through the air around you burst into your ear. you did not dare to look up from the ground, but bennett had instinctively unleashed his sword and carelessly stabbed upward at the pyro slime (fortunately not scraping you in the process considering both his bad luck and unprepared action). he pulled his sword away, his grip around the hilt losing when he saw that the slime was beginning to blame around its body.

it was going to burst.

quickly discarding his sword, he kicked himself up using his feet and the ample wind so he could finally catch the edge. you squealed from the impact of his motion, feeling yourself being pulled forward.

bennett hoisted himself up just enough that his arm could go around the back of your head, and in the nick of time, just before the pyro slime combusted with a hot explosion, he placed his hand at the back of your head and dipped you toward him as much as he could.

you winced at the heat that touched your legs and the small of your back, but most of the damage that was supposed to go to your uncovered skin landed on bennett's bare arm instead. he gritted his teeth at the pain, but anything would be better than you getting hurt because of his carelessness, so he endured and kept his arm around the back of your head.

looking up from the ground, the tip of your nose lightly bumped against his as soon as you faced forward. bennett took a second or three to access the proximity, as well as the other party sharing it with him, and he immediately panicked.

"i–i'm sorry!" he shouted for no reason, his cheeks beginning to flush red.

"woah–hey, bennett! stop moving, you're going to fall!" you scolded at the commotion he was causing in the air, your senses coming back to you as you helped pull him back up to the surface.

you let go of him when he got his feet on the ground. falling backward, you breathed out a relieved sigh as your back touched the grass. you spread your arms out slightly, just enough that your knuckles ghosted against bennett's hand after he mirrored your action.

"that was way too close for comfort!" bennett exclaimed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. he looked up at the sky, controlling his breathing. "thank you for saving me. i got lucky for once, i can't believe you were around!"

you pursed your lips together and tilted your head then. turning to your side, you frowned at your best friend and reached out to poke his cheek for his attention. bennett turned to look at you, his brows rising and his cheek pinking from the sight.

"huh?" he asked as he blinked at you innocently.

"i'm mad at you," you grumbled. "you didn't wait for me this morning. you just left to dig treasures for yourself!"

you almost forgot why you were here—to scold bennett for leaving you in mondstadt and going to adventure alone. you had to find him by following trials of unusually burnt grasses, eliminating the guesses that it could have been the doings of pyro slimes.

"ah! pyro slime–" a sudden recognition of the recent event dawned upon you, and you looked down at your leg to find a patch of redness around it. "ah, it did burn me..."

bennett sat up quickly, his eyes widening slightly. your hand tentatively smoothed over the red spot, your wince obviously in his observant eyes.

he could not have protected you from that one, he had been rather far away. he already tried his best in the circumstance he was in, but still, he would rather take all the harm in your place if he could.

"i'm sorry," he apologized urgently, moving forward and reaching a hand out reluctantly.

you looked over, your eyes scanning his scarred arm that gained itself some new stories to tell this afternoon. but more permanently engraved in your beating heart was the same burnt redness, in a much bigger patch, that he has yet to complain about.

he took that for you, didn't he? the arm that went around the naked back of your neck. a vulnerable place; he protected it however he could.

bennett always protected you however he could.

the arm that put itself in front of you when you were being teased by other vision-wielding kids before you got your anemo vision, the bandaid that sloppily got stuck to your knee when you fell from the bike at five, the jacket that warmed you after you almost drowned in cider lake, and the hand that went behind your hand when the pyro slime exploded.

bennett has bad luck, sure. but he was the bad that surpassed the good, he was the hope that things will turn out for the better because he would always be there to save the day.

he was the foolishness of loving someone to a point of losing oneself.

it was the kind of foolishness that exists within bennett, the kind where you love someone so much that you are willing to hurt in place of them, the kind only bennett could flawlessly pull off in the most flawed way possible.

"bennett... your arm," you muttered as you moved to sit more comfortably on the ground.

he blinked curiously down at his arm, unsure what got you looking so damaged and upset. for a second, he almost got insecure about the way his marked skin looked as he wondered if the pain he had to endure had appalled you. but you took his hand, gently and firmly, and you placed it before your closed eyes.

"uh–what–what are you–what are you doing?"

"healing you," you muttered. "my healing won't work as good on the burns, but i can try helping you with the rest."

your concentration brought along with you a gentle gust of wind. it blew across the neverending grass field, it blew across the sky, and it blew around you two. it tickled bennett's skin carefully, the greenness flying like sparkles of dandelion petals, and it stopped at his arm to sew his skin back together.

your hair blew, dancing harmoniously with the wind that fell around your head. and the softness of your hand that touched his made his heart speed up expectantly. when you were done, the wind didn't go, but you looked up at him under the dying of the sun just to smile with golden dust on your cheeks.

and bennett could not take his eyes off you. his cheek blushed; the kind of boy whose face get red simply because the person they like looks pretty.

he opened his mouth impulsively, his mind urging him to do one of the scariest things he could ever do.

"i lik–"

"let's head back to the cathedral," you cut him off, not ready, "we can ask barbara to treat the burns."

was that intentional? bennett could not tell. he was sure the thought of it would haunt him for nights on, though.

with his luck, he would like to say rejection was almost a guarantee in his story. but, at the same time, he could feel hope bubbling in his chest when you stood up and dragged him along with you.

he followed suit, his arm extended as you guided him through the open road, your voice rambling about what to eat for dinner together.

there was hope. there has to be. lingering in your appearance when he was in need, in the wind that pushed your hearts closer together, and your intertwined hands as you two headed back home. there has to be hope.

bennett smiled to himself at the thought.

and that. that is foolishness.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin bennett #bennett #bennett imagines #genshin impact bennett #bennett x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios

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attllhak · 3 years

Text

I 100% blame @kagrenacs entirely for this. This is your fault. You gave me Ideas.

Also, @tortilla-of-courage I promised I’d tag you in this. Here’s that crack fic I talked about where Mario is Malon’s step-father.

Behold, a crack fic.

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

Link had been dating Malon officially for about three months when the letter came.

Link had arrived at the ranch about the same time as the postman left, having just got back home from another adventure trying to help clear out a temple that had been invaded by monsters that the regular soldiers were struggling with. He went so Sheik wouldn’t, as apparently Zelda was needed at the castle for something else.

Malon was waving goodbye at the postman as Link and Epona trotted up, the boy leaning to the side of the saddle to blink at his girlfriend.

Epona snorted and nudged Malon’s head to get her attention.

“Oh what, Epona!” Malon laughed, reaching up to stroke her hand along the mare’s face. “And that means,”

Link waved at her with a smile.

“Link!” Malon grinned, coming around Epona’s side to meet him. “You’re home!”

Link nodded as he leaned down to kiss her hello, feeling much better now that he was back at the ranch, even if he was still bruised and achy and very possibly bleeding. Malon almost made him feel the way the forest did, like he was home.

He swung over and dismounted the horse, smiling as Malon pulled him into a hug.

Malon then pushed him away and spun him around. Link was confused for about one second before,

“Are you bleeding?”

Link shrugged, not entirely sure himself.

Malon made a strangled noise and then she was dragging him inside. “Honestly, Link. What part of ‘be careful’ do you not understand? You know, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show up here bleeding sometimes,”

Link just smiled at the back of her head, not affected by her berating in the least. She’d lectured him on this before, and would do so again in the future, and he knew she wasn’t as mad as she pretended to be. At this point her yelling was as much standard fare as her patching him up was.

Link hopped up to sit on the kitchen table, watching as Malon dropped the letter on the table next to him before digging out the first aid kit she kept stocked in the room.

In lieu of anything else to look at, Link glanced down at the letter next to him. There was a red seal on the back, not dissimilar to the ones Zelda used when writing letters, though instead of the Hylian crest this seal had the image of a mushroom on it. Flipping it over saw words in neat curling letters in an alphabet Link didn’t recognize. This wasn’t surprising, as up until a year or so ago he still struggled with written Hylian. He set the letter down when he heard a door open in a different part of the house.

“Malon!” Talon shouted through the house. “Did you know Epona was out front? I thought Link had taken her,” he stopped when he turned into the kitchen and saw his daughter standing up with a first aid kit and the mentioned adventurer on his table. Link waved. “Link! You’re back!”

Link nodded, smiling at Talon as Malon opened the first aid kit on the table and started sorting through the contents.

“Link just got back a minute ago,” Malon informed her father as she had Link pull off his tunic. “He’s bleeding still, so I’m going to patch him up before he fills us in on his latest adventure,” she paused, then picked up the letter that she’d received when Link arrived. “Oh, and we got a letter from mom,”

She handed over the letter to her dad, Link watching the paper with curiosity. Malon’s mother? She’d never mentioned her mother to him before, and he’d never pried. He assumed her mother was dead, since she wasn’t around and no one talked about her, but he was also pretty sure dead people didn’t send letters. Pretty sure, not totally sure. Considering what he’d already seen on his adventures, he wasn’t ruling it out as a possibility.

Talon grumbled as he opened it, Malon pulling Link’s attention to her as she went about patching him up as best she could. A few minutes passed, Link occasionally hissing as Malon applied a disinfectant, and then Malon declared him patched up, wandering over to look at the letter over her father’s shoulder.

“What does it say?” She asked, crowding him as Link shrugged back into his tunic.

“It’s an invitation,” Talon handed it to her to read herself. “Some kind of Star Carnival or something, happens every couple of years. She’s invited us to come,”

Link slowly raised his hand, then waved when he noticed no one was paying attention to him. Talon looked up, then nudged Malon to get her attention. Link waved his hands at the letter then at the two of them, then threw his hands up in confusion. True, he could have signed, but he only thought of that afterwards.

“Oh, right,” Malon bounced over to sit next to him to hold the letter where he could see it. He looked at it, then at her. Malon scoffed. “It’s an invitation from my mother to come to the Star Carnival in the Mushroom Kingdom,”

Link blinked, then sighed ‘Mushroom Kingdom’ back at her with his face twisted up in confusion.

Malon blinked at him, then snapped her fingers. “Oh right, I never told you about my mother, did I? She lives in a neighboring kingdom off to the west, and her and dad had a bit of a falling out a few years after I was born. Dad and Ingo moved to Hyrule, and mom remarried. I have a half sister over there now,”

Link nodded slowly, then waved at the letter again.

“Oh, mom will occasionally invite us back for festivals and stuff. It’s her way of keeping up with us, while respecting that dad moved away for a reason,” she paused, then her head snapped up and turned to him so quickly he had to lean back in order to not get hit. “You should come with us!”

Malon blinked at him, wide eyed and grinning. Link couldn’t possibly say no. He nodded.

Malon made a giddy sound and wrapped Link in a hug, then slid off the table to hand the letter to her father. She came back to grab his hands and pull him off the table too.

“Oh, you’ll love it, Link! The Star Carnival is great, there’s all sorts of games, and events, and everyone comes out for it,” Malon chatteled off, dragging Link with her so she could keep talking at him while she finished up her chores.

Link completely forgot he was supposed to tell Zelda about the temple.

About a week later Link found himself next to Malon in an oddly mushroom shaped carriage her mother sent to collect them for the carnival. Apparently this was normal for these trips, but the fact the carriage had nothing to pull it but still moved confused Link. According to Malon this was how most things worked, but he wasn’t convinced he liked that.

The trip was uneventful, except how Link kept jumping every time the carriage bumped. The little mushroom person (“He’s a Toad, they’re the race that makes up most of the Mushroom Kingdom’s people,” Malon told him) kept up a steady stream of talk, pointing out everything he saw. Link was very glad he’d managed to convince Malon to let him take one of his swords and the mirror shield with him, he felt much more comfortable armed.

His discomfort was overshadowed, however, when the site of the carnival came into view. A big red and white striped tent, with booths and stalls set up throughout the whole grounds. There were people streaming all through the area, humans, toads and some other things as well. Link found it incredible, and Malon had to pull him back into the carriage before he fell out the window.

Eventually, the carriage came to a stop at the entrance to the grounds and the three Hyruleans stepped out. There were a few long moments as Link looked around in awe, and confusion, at some of the things he was seeing. There were moving paintings positioned around the grounds showing some guy who was mostly hat and blaring his voice across the area. Malon called these moving paintings ‘video screens’, and that they were looking at something happening in a different part of the carnival. Link didn’t understand that, but they were moving along fast enough that he didn’t linger on it.

He was snapped out of looking at some star shaped pastries at a loud squeal, head snapping up and on alert. He relaxed when Malon laughed and waved in response.

“Malon!” A higher pitched voice called, belonging to a taller woman with bright blonde hair wearing a very big pink dress and long white gloves. She had a crown on her head. “You made it!”

“Of course I made it,” Malon laughed as she hugged the other woman. “Why would I miss this?”

Malon then switched to hugging and greeting another woman closer to her age, also wearing a crown but dressed in blue, her hair covering her right eye. A little chubby star creature floated next to her and waved.

Link blinked and watched the exchange, hovering off to the side.

“Oh!” Malon abruptly remembered him and turned to tug him up. “Link, I want you to meet my mother, Queen Peach, and my half sister Rosalina. Mom, Rosy, this is my boyfriend Link,”

Link managed to get himself out of his ‘Malon’s mom is queen???!?’ confusion loop long enough to bow, trying to be polite.

“Oh no, please don’t. No one has bowed to me in a very long time, and it’s weird to see now,” Queen Peach giggled lightly as Link straightened up, the tips of his ears turning red. “You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,”

“Uh, surprise!” Malon waved her hands as she gave her mother and sister a sheepish grin. “I have a boyfriend! His name is Link,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rosalina extended her hand, and Link took it to shake.

Link nodded and grinned, then signed back ‘it’s nice to meet you too’ at her when she dropped his hand. Both women blinked at him and for a second he thought he’d done something wrong. He slowly lowered his hands and blinked at them too. Maybe they didn’t speak Hylian sign? He’d never encountered someone who couldn’t understand him, but outside of Hyrule it wasn’t impossible.

“Oh,” Malon jumped in, waving at him. “Link is mute, so he uses sign to talk. I should have mentioned that,”

“Oh,” Queen Peach brightened up again. “Of course. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Link. I hope you enjoy the carnival,” she signed as she spoke, and Link blinked at her, then matched her grin.

Link nodded happily, letting her know it wasn’t like anything he’d encountered before, but that he was enjoying things so far.

Queen Peach offered to show them around, which Malon accepted for them, and they went about walking through the grounds while the queen pointed out different attractions. Most of these involved events she called minigames, though a few featured other attractions. Apparently minigames were part of a big event called a Party, which was a competition people could compete in for prizes. Malon had very quietly dissuaded him from participating, as apparently she was worried a few of the minigames might mess with his trauma if he were to play them. Also, apparently Hylians weren’t as durable as the people of the Mushroom Kingdom.

“Oh!” Queen Peach bounced over to one of the video screens and grinned. “It looks like a Party is starting!”

Wandering up to join the toadstool queen, Link blinked up at the moving paintings on the screen, still confused as to how that worked. The man who was mostly hat introduced a group of four, a stout man in red with blue overalls with a very big mustache named Mario, a brunette woman in a yellow dress named Daisy, a stal-like creature that resembled the creatures Malon told him were koopahs who was introduced as Dry Bones, and a tall lanky man in purple who introduced himself as Waluigi. Queen Peach was grinning, and Malon was laughing a little at this.

Link tapped Malon’s shoulder and asked her who those people were.

“Oh, well Mario is mom’s husband, and Daisy is his brother’s wife. Dry Bones is a friend, I think, and Waluigi just shows up for events like this,” Malon explained to him, pointing as she did. “It can be hard to keep track of who’s friendly and who isn’t all the time, things change so often,”

“They don’t change often,” Queen Peach giggled. “The only time anything changes is when Bowser kidnaps me, then we’re briefly enemies, but we go back to being friends when Mario comes to rescue me,”

Link blinked at her, face scrunched up. She talked like this was normal. Apparently, this was quickly explained to him, it was. It was just the relationship those three had. Link wasn’t sure he’d ever understand that concept, but was willing to push it aside for the moment.

They stood and watched the Party, and Link was glad Malon had encouraged him not to try any of the minigames. She was right about a few of them not meshing well with his trauma. He’d actually had to turn away during one because of how much it reminded him of fighting Volvagia in the Fire Temple. It was pretty easy for Malon to work him down again, and he was ever so grateful for her and her patience with him, but they didn’t turn back until after the minigame was over.

Once the Party was over, Queen Peach eagerly dragged them over to something called a warp pad in order to greet her husband when he got there. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

Already waiting at the pad was a very large individual. He looked vaguely like a koopah, but was much bigger, and his shell was studded with spikes. Helpfully, Link’s mind supplied him with the theory that the koopah might be like the Zora, with the ruler being much bigger than the rest of their people, and so this might be their king.

He was right, he’d soon learn.

What had him stopping dead was the man next to him. Almost eight feet tall, bright red hair, black armor. The man was distinctly Gerudo, and looked identical to Ganondorf. Link reached out and grabbed Malon’s arm, pointing out the man to her and signing as fast as she could keep up. Malon had his shoulders in her hands, and was trying to talk to him slowly, the same way she did when working him down from a panic attack or a spike in anxiety. Maybe he was freaking out, he certainly didn’t feel calm. But Ganondorf shouldn’t be here, Zelda’s father had him executed. He shouldn’t be alive, let alone here.

“Is something wrong?” Queen Peach popped up in Link’s peripheral vision, but he was too busy trying not to panic to respond to her.

Thankfully, he had Malon.

“Kind of, Link’s had some, uh, adventures that have messed with his head a little. Bowser’s friend over there happens to look like a man named Ganondorf who tried to kill him more than once, with quite a bit of effort,” Malon rubbed Link’s arms as she spoke, glancing back at him every once in a while. “He’s a little freaked out to see someone who looks so similar, even if this can’t be Ganondorf, since Queen Zelda’s father, the late king, had him executed for trying to kill the royal family and steal Hyrule’s crown about ten or so years ago.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realized,” Queen Peach paused, glancing back at Bowser and maybe-Ganondorf, then back to the two of them. “If you’ll give me a moment,”

She ducked out, and in the meantime Link managed to wrangle his breathing under control. Eventually, he felt confident enough in himself to not immediately try to stab maybe-Ganondorf, but he did pull the mirror shield onto his arm. He felt better when he had it out.

Link specifically kept his shield between himself and maybe-Ganondorf as they approached, Malon keeping a hand on his arm. The conversation petered out as they made it up.

Maybe-Ganondorf clapped his hands together, which had Link pulling up the shield and tensing. The maybe-Ganondorf paused, then spread his hands.

“I understand that someone who looked like me tried to hurt you in the past?” The man, who even sounded like Ganondorf, asked. Link was then hit again with the fact that in this timeline Ganondorf never actually tried to kill him, and even when he had it was both his past and future for a while. He nodded, not willing to dwell on the details of his seven year sleep and subsequent return to childhood. The man grimaced. “I am truly sorry then. My name is Greg, I am a good, friend, of Bowser’s, and I can assure you I am not the same man who wanted to see you come to harm,”

Link narrowed his eyes, but did peek a little further over his shield.

There was a long, tense moment where Link just looked over Greg, trying to decide how he felt about him. After several heartbeats where Link found nothing but honesty, he nodded and lowered the shield some. He didn’t put it away however.

Greg grinned, nodding back.

“You can probably put the shield away now,” Queen Peach offered gently.

Link just tightened his grip on the reflective defense and pulled it closer to himself.

“I don’t think that’s happening,” Malon said gently, squeezing his arm some. “It’s just, well, I’m sure it just makes him feel a little better, what with the situation and all. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never got better around male Gerudo,” she tried to laugh.

“What’s a Gerudo?” Greg asked.

Link dropped the shield to his side and made a face.

(---)

The rest of the day was spent being introduced to a few others of Queen Peach’s friends, and then later avoiding Greg as best he could, and even watching Malon play some of the minigames with her sister.

Link felt a little bad about avoiding Greg, but he looked so much like Ganondorf that he really didn’t trust himself not to hurt the man. Better to just avoid him.

They were invited to spend the night at Peach’s castle, after which they’d return to the carnival the next day.

Somehow, between meeting Mario and crashing for the night, the plumber convinced him to agree to a race.

Link didn’t know how to use any of the racing machines they had.

He spent a great deal of time, at length, bemoaning his impulsivity to Malon, who eventually got tired enough with him to track down her stepfather and get him to teach Link to use one of the machines. Mario, to his credit, was surprisingly understanding and more than helpful.

It didn’t take long to decide Link would do better on a bike than in a kart.

Link also needed to help repair a wall later.

These are related.

“Alright,” Mario rubbed his hands together as he coached Link through the basics. “This-a thing here? That’s-a the brakes. You pull on-a those to slow down. This-a piece you twist, and that makes-a you go! You see?”

Link nodded slowly, pulling on the lever for the brakes and twisting the handle.

“Okay, let’s-a do one lap around the track, and-a see how you do,” Mario nodded back waving at the track. “Let’s-a go!”

Link gave a sharp nod, taking a deep breath as he did. This would be his fifth try at this.

Malon gave him a pair of thumbs up from the sidelines, grinning at him. He was glad she was more confident in him than he was.

He slowly twisted the handle, the machine puttering to life (a phrase Link was distinctly uncomfortable with) and eased forward gently. After a few moments he was increasing speed around the oval track, getting more comfortable with using the bike. He avoided the jumps he could, but managed to not wipe out on the ones he couldn’t. Slowing to a stop in front of Malon and Mario, he felt distinctly proud of himself for not crashing.

Malon jumped up from where she was sitting, clapping happily as she bounced over to hug him.

“You didn’t crash that time!” She grinned. “You’re getting better!”

‘I am,’ Link grinned back, a group of bees set loose in his chest alongside the happiness.

“You’re-a doing so much better! Now, let’s-a maybe think about getting better with the jumps, hm?” Mario clapped as he approached.

Link nodded, signing his response slowly. Mario knew Mushroom Kingdom Sign, but not Hylian Sign, and the two had some differences. This meant communication was slow going, which was partly why Malon was there.

They spent a few more hours, and a lot more crashing, practicing the jumps. Apparently there were a lot of jumps in these races.

By the time they decided to take a break for lunch, Link was covered in bruises but could also reasonably be trusted to not crash every time he attempted a jump, which was much better than he was when they started.

“Oh my! What happened to you?” Peach gasped, looking over the group as they arrived to join the queen and the rest of the family for lunch.

‘Learned the jumps,’ Link signed at her, grinning maybe a bit wider than he needed to.

“The bruises were self-inflicted,” Malon told everyone, dragging Link over to sit between Talon and Rosalina with her. “He’s gotten very good at crashing. And at not crashing, but that skill’s taking longer,”

Rosalina started giggling. “Well, it seems we all have a type,”

Link looked at her in confusion while he let Malon set up plates for them.

“What do you mean?” Peach asked.

Rosalina pointed at her mother. “You married dad, who is prone to extreme spots. And turns sports that aren’t extreme sports into extreme sports. I have never seen someone make golf a full contact sport other than him,” she turned her finger to Malon. “Malon has brought home a boy who is firstly more than willing to participate in said extreme sports, and, Mal you said he works for your Queen, right?”

Malon nodded. “He’s technically part of the royal guard, but really he’s just sent out to go deal with monsters when Her Majesty can’t do it herself. He comes back bleeding a lot,” she sent him a halfhearted glare. He smiled innocently in response.

“Right,” Rosalina nodded. “He’s prone to come back bleeding. And the last time I saw Sammy, she was also bleeding and bruised because she got in a fight with a robot that nearly kicked her, erm, butt,” she cleared her throat and paused until she got a nod from her mother, then continued. “Right, so, my point is we have a type, and it’s the same one,”

“And that type is?” Malon asked.

“People who are prone to getting hurt,”

Link felt mildly like he should be offended by that, but Malon was just nodding along so he decided to drop it. It wasn’t like he could argue, after all.

“Oh, is your girlfriend coming?” Malon asked, handing Link a plate but focusing on her sister.

Link didn’t know what some of the things on his plate were, and lightly poked at one of the mushrooms. This is why he decided to let Malon grab food for him.

“She should be, she told me she’d try at least,” Rosalina nodded. “But, well, you know how busy she can be sometimes. Her job doesn’t allow her a lot of free time,”

Malon nodded. “I get that. It can be hard dating someone who spends so much time away getting in fights,”

She gave Link a side eye and he paused halfway into a bite. Was she mad at him? Or was this one of those joking jab things? He couldn’t quite tell the difference yet. She didn’t seem like she was mad at him. Maybe she was trying to relate to her sister? Wait, what did her sister’s girlfriend do that he’d be a comparison?

He figured he’d ask.

Apparently Sammy was a mercenary (“She fights things for money,” Malon told him. “Kind of like you do, but you work for the Queen and she works for herself,”), and that meant she spent a lot of time away and then coming back injured. Like Link did.

“You’d probably get along with her really well,” Malon offered, subtly adding more of the thing he’d already cleared off his plate to his portion. “You can bond over killing things and getting hurt and worrying your girlfriends about the fact that you’re out killing things and getting hurt all alone,”

Link frowned at her and narrowed his eyes. The worst part was that he couldn’t even argue, she was right. He did spend a lot of time killing things and getting hurt and worrying her, and he did do most of it alone.

That thought sort of made his chest ache. He wouldn’t be alone if he still had Navi, but he hadn’t been able to find her yet. He didn’t want to sour the atmosphere though, so he pushed that thought to the side and shoved Malon’s shoulder in retaliation.

Malon shoved him back, laughing, and Link didn’t bother fighting the grin on his face. It was moments like this that made the trauma and the longing easier to deal with.

They spent some more time practicing the jumps for the race Link had gotten himself roped into and introducing him to the ‘power ups’, and then wandered around the festival grounds until dinner, where they retired to the castle. Link found out quickly that the power ups were made with people way more durable than him in mind. A conversation started about finding an item or something that might help protect him a bit.

Malon had pulled out a health potion she insisted Link drink to heal up the bruises he’d acquired when they heard the, whirring? Link didn’t know what to make of that sound, but he did know he should figure it out.

Which is how Link ended up carefully crossing the entryway of the castle, eyes on the front door, Malon frustrated and following behind him.

Rosalina came barrelling down a stairwell just as Link got to the door, startling him.

“Don’t mind Link,” Malon rolled her eyes. “He’s just never heard the sound of a ship landing before,”

Ship?

“So that was her ship I saw!” Rosalina pushed past Link, who made a strangled noise as she did, and ran out the door.

Link followed, hand on his sword, just in case, and froze.

Someone was standing on the bridge to the castle, wearing dark orange armor and standing easily as tall as a gerudo, maybe taller. Link couldn’t make out much more from that, since the armor covered them head to toe, and their helmet covered their entire head and face. It also looked shinier than any armor he’d ever seen before.

This person caught Rosalina when she threw herself at them, lifting her up and spinning them both around. A sort of mechanical laugh came from the armored person.

Link turned to Malon.

“That’s Samus, Rosy’s girlfriend,” Malon explained. “Come on, let’s go say hi!”

Malon headed down the bridge to where Samus had set Rosalina down. Link stayed where he was, the Luma that followed Rosalina around coming up to float next to him. Luma yawned, and Link offered it a small smile. They must have been getting ready for bed when Samus arrived.

“Link!” He turned at Malon’s shout, seeing her wave at him. “Come meet Samus!”

Samus had pulled off her helmet, revealing tied back blonde hair and pale skin. So, not gerudo, just tall.

He offered Luma a sympathetic shrug and wandered over.

“Link, this is Samus,” Malon waved between them as Link came up. “Samus, this is my boyfriend, Link. He’s mute, so he speaks using sign, but he can hear you just fine,”

“Hello, Link,” Samus offered him a smile, signing in very choppy Hylian Sign as she spoke, and then offered her hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you,”

Link signed slowly as he replied, figuring Samus might appreciate it, and then accepted her handshake.

They didn’t stay standing there for long since it was already getting quite dark. Link offered to help Samus move in some of her things, since she was apparently staying for a few weeks between jobs, which is how he found himself pulling on his golden gauntlets to pick up a very heavy suitcase to carry inside. Samus had the other very heavy case, and Malon and Rosalina helped carry in the rest of it.

Once Samus was settled Malon resumed her crusade to get Link to drink the rest of the health potion.

(---)

The next time Link ran into Samus was right before his race. They hadn’t found something to help with the power ups yet, though he did receive a racing suit to wear in case he crashed.

He stopped mid-sign as something heavy dropped round his neck.

He turned to look down at the item, some kind of medallion on a chain. There was some kind of bird on it, and some kind of writing he couldn’t read, though he didn’t expect to be able to. It didn’t feel magical, but it did sort of, hum in his hands.

He turned around to blink up at the person who dropped in on him. Which turned out to be Samus.

She wasn’t wearing the armor, instead wearing just a skin-tight blue outfit that showed off her abs and the muscles in her arms. She had a lot of muscle. Link started doubting his conclusion that she wasn’t somehow part gerudo.

“I heard you were worried about being durable enough to compete,” Samus explained when Link made a confused motion at the medallion. “That should help,”

‘How?’ Link asked.

“It’s an old bit of tech I picked up but haven’t needed in a long while,” Samus explained.

Link spent a moment finger spelling out that word and trying to remember where he heard it before.

“It’s like magic, but not magic,” Rosalina appeared to lean behind Samus, who towered over her even when she was standing straight. “Sammy you need to remember they don’t even have video screens in Hyrule, you’re going to confuse him,”

“Oh,” Samus blinked, looking between them. “Uh, sorry,”

Link waved her off and assured her it was fine, and then asked for more clarification on the item she just gave him.

“I figured it would solve your durability issue,” Samus explained. “For the race,”

Link nodded, turning it over in his hands for a minute. He tucked it under the suit, the metal oddly warm despite having only just put it on, and thanked Samus for the help.

She promised to be cheering him on, which was met by a huff and light shove from Rosalina, who was also racing.

The medallion did help. It didn’t quite put him on par with the native residents of the Mushroom Kingdom, but it did keep him from getting seriously hurt by some of the more extreme power ups.

Seriously, some of them were just insane.

He didn’t win, but he did come about middle of the pack, which he was quite proud of.

Samus let him keep the medallion, since he could probably get more use out of it than she would, and then Rosalina dragged them all out to get some star pastries to celebrate the fact she won.

Samus ended up far more confident in her Hylian Sign by the end of the day, mostly due to her and Link being dragged about the faire by their girlfriends as they competed in a few minigames. Samus had asked for some help practicing when she noticed Link was a bit uncomfortable with some of the minigames.

Link decided he liked Samus.

He especially liked it when their girlfriends got back and Rosalina had fake-whispered to Malon “Oh no, they’re teaming up!” and all four of them started laughing.

They stayed for a week, the length of the carnival, but they did have to get back to Hyrule. It didn’t help that Sheik had likely tried dealing with everything himself, and as such the kingdom had to deal with the Queen slipping out to fight things.

Once they’d said goodbye, with promises to write between Malon and her family, they climbed back into the little carriage thing they’d arrived in and Link turned to Malon immediately.

‘You’ll bring me with you next time too, right?’

Malon laughed, and agreed to bring him with the next time they were invited.

Neither of them had fully expected Link to get a letter a few weeks after they got home, but sure enough, it was his name written in the alphabet used by the Mushroom Kingdom.

It was decided that they should probably teach him how to read that alphabet after that.

The small package he received from Rosalina a few years later with her and Malon’s grandmother’s engagement ring after he’d proposed with a little note that the ring he’d found was way too flashy was probably to be expected. Even he and Malon had agreed on that the day before. They did switch out the rings, and though the old Queen’s ring was still a bit fancy for a farm girl, it wasn’t going to accidentally blind someone.

He figured he’d pass off Queen Peach’s offer to plan their wedding to Zelda, who had also already decided she wanted to plan it.

Let people who actually knew what they were doing plan it, he’d focus on making sure he was mostly uninjured come the day of. He’d just help with the invitation list.

This, he learned later, was a very smart call.

68 notes · View notes

vemuabhi · 3 years

Text

Disney Romance - Cinderella’s Bird - 200 followers special

@littlesniggy said : Hey you! Now it's my turn to request something! Kida sad you don't write for Akainu but I can understand 😂 He's an asshole! If it hasn't been requested yet, would you do Mulan/Cinderella with Kid x female reader? I'm super excited which one you choose/ if you choose it at all! Thank you!

A/N : Omg thankyou so much for sending an ask @littlesniggy san!!! I am so excited to answer this for you! I loved writing for the grumpy boy. This was really a beautiful experience writing this for Eustass KIdd. Please don’t have high expectations for this.

Warning : A big fic written by me. But has a happy ending.

Word count : 2.7K

I hope you like it!

XOXOXOXO

“Why the hell should I get married now?”, you complained to your Robin who always was beside you, she was a maid but you always admired her and always treated her like a friend not like a maid.

Robin sighed and patted your head as she took the place beside you on the bed. “I should have the choice when I want to get married. Not some jerk who is randomly selected by my parents”, you scoffed and plopped back on the soft burgundy-coloured bedsheets. Robin gave you a sad smile and said, “That’s true. I too believe that marriage should be for Love”

Being a princess isn’t easy. Every girl dream to be a princess but its not as beautiful like the fairy tales are. You are a live example for that. Not once you could decide for yourself. Even the big puffy yellow gown you were wearing was not of your choice. The corset was killing you inside. You wanted to rip it off and throw it out of your window. With language classes, you always had dance classes, tea sessions, music classes. Everything that was chosen by your parents, was practically forced upon you.

‘What kind of lunatic needs to learn how to drink tea?’, you cursed the tea sessions when ever you were being called to it. All you did was brew tea and drink during the whole time. The music classes were always a hectic. You wanted to learn an instrument but when you were given another. Your wishes were denied because who cares about your dreams? In the beginning even dance classes were troublesome, But you tried to put up with all those demands of your parents. In return they are now trying to get you married as soon as possible.

“I’m done with this Robin”, you spoke and got up. “I’ll do whatever I want”, your voice was stern and Robin was curious on what you were about to do.

“Cancel todays classes, I’ll be going to visit the town to relieve my stress”, you announced briskly walking towards the closet.

“Are you sure your highness? But how can you go alone? You must have someone wit-”

“Robin! Its fine. I can take care of myself”, you didn’t let her finish her sentence. Throwing your corset on the floor and dressing up like a maid didn’t take long enough. You made your way towards the secret passage in the palace and exited the palace. Even though Robin was worried, she had to stay back in the castle to make sure no one notices your leaving.

The town and the market were as lively as ever and you walked around the place. As you kept walking, you saw a couple who looked very much in love. You felt a bit envious of them. At least the commoners had the freedom to do what they like. As you were walking aimlessly in the market, you bumped into a tall buff guy.

“Oh I’m sorry”, after apologising you thought of leaving but it didn’t go well.

“Hey! How can you go away like that?” the man started to fight with you. As you felt the very heavy scent of alcohol hit your nostrils, you knew that this man was heavily drunk.

“What? I apologised so what’s your problem now?” you questioned as your dominant hand slowly reached for the sword hidden in your skirt.

“You bitch how dare you speak back to me?” he raised his hand to land a hit on you but just when you were about to take out the sword, his had was stopped mid-air. You then saw a man who had red hair. As soon as the jerk saw that man, it seemed like his senses came back to him again.

“Asshole! Didn’t I tell you this is my shop and never make a scene in front of it”, the man shouted at the rogue twisting his arm. He winced in pain as he apologised and ran away.

The red haired man went into a shop, what seemed like a shop of vegetables and fruits. ‘Was he a farmer?’, you thought and followed him. Looking inside, there were so many fresh vegetables and also fruits in the shop.

“What do you want?”, a sharp voice questioned making you turn towards the owner of the voice. It was the same red head from before.

“Uh, I… I’m here to buy”, you said and looked around again trying to seem convincing. He huffed and sat on a chair fiddling with something which seemed like a machine. Your interest perked up and you asked him, “What are you making?”, moving closer to take a peek at the machine.

“Why should I tell you?”, he spat but as he looked at your face, he noticed that your eyes were sparkling with curiosity and interest.

“Tsk”, he clicked his tongue and explained about the way he wanted to make a machine bird as you listened to him carefully. He kept telling you how helpful machines would be if used in the correct way.

“But, don’t you think, this material you are using to make this bird is kinda… cheap and looks like its gonna break soon?”, you questioned for which he frowned and replied, “Don’t you think I already know that? I… I just don’t have the money”, mumbling the last part.

“Oh! I got an idea. Listen to me, uhh..”

“Eustass Kidd”

“So, Kidd As this bird is still in the beginning process, I’ll bring you the material tomorrow. Till then don’t touch this. Okay now I need to leave. I’ll be taking this basket here”, you said and took a basket of strawberries and tossed a coin to him.

“HEY WAIT!! YOU DIDN’T EVE- and she’s gone”, still with that grumpy look Kidd took his screw driver to continue working on the bird. But he remembered you telling him to wait till tomorrow. So he sat back in his chair and exhaled.

“Its not because she told me to wait. I… I want to continue this tomorrow”, he huffed and folded his hands. Then he remembered about the coin you threw.

He opened his palm and his eyes widened as he looked at the coin. It was a gold coin. A freaking gold coin for a basket of strawberries.

“No way. What the heck is she thinking?”, he carefully placed it back in the locker and thought to give it back to you tomorrow.

At the castle you came back and continued with your remaining day. You should leave tomorrow. So you need to make plans.

“Robin I need you to do something for me”, you explained how you needed high quality metal and also the timings of classes to be shifted. So, it did happen and you had continuous morning classes without breaks but, you were a free after them and it made you to take material Kidd wanted to make the bird. Changing out from your attire of a princess you went to the same shop as yesterday. There you found the man coming towards you as if he was waiting for you all along.

“I got the material you need”, you said as you placed it beside his table where the bird was supposed to be made.

“Were you waiting for me? Sorry I was late”, you said and he instantly replied, “Wha- Who was waiting for you?”

“Ah ok”, you muttered as you saw him instantly looking and taking the material with a faint pink shade on his cheeks. He looked just like a child exited to play with his toys.

“Where the hell did you even get these? These are clearly expensive?”, his sudden questions made your thoughts to break.

“Ah… I got it from the Kings dumpster”, you made the blankest expression trying to hide your lie.

“Kings Dumpster?! The King threw away this metal when it’s like this?”, he asked as his brows raised when you just nodded.

“Tsk… and here I am, trying to get re-rid of rust from metal. Using them for the 100th time”, he huffed.

You both sat opposite to each other and he worked on the bird as you learned about the work he was doing. Helping him with giving the appropriate tool at times, you had more fun than you ever had in your life. He tried to return the gold coin but you didn’t take it and made a deal to take vegetables or fruits in return, for which he agreed. You both fist bumped as an agreement of the deal.

From that day, you made your way out of the castle to meet Kidd. Surprisingly, he always waited for you to come to work on the bird. Meanwhile he somewhere started to call you little lady and you actually liked it. It became a routine for you to take a basket of veggies or fruits every time you left the shop. Sometimes he’d you’d tag along with him to his small farm. He was totally proud of his farm. His eyes showed it. Where you knew you never felt that feeling that he was feeling. Never once in your life you felt you were proud of something you did. He was living a complete different life than yours. You found your heart skip a beat every time Kidd smiled. You liked him.

Kidd was unique. He was terrible in showing his emotions but he was a good person. Every time you left the castle for him, seemed right. You actually felt happy seeing him and working with him. But of course, this happiness didn’t last long. Your parents wanted you to get married soon and told you to pick a groom for yourself in the ball that is going to be hosted next week. Bloody next week.

Because of the ball, you had to take even more classes for walking like a princess and also more fashionistas coming to find the perfect gown for you. Due to those, you couldn’t meet Kidd for 4 days.

Meanwhile, Kidd waited for you staring at the front door of his shop. Whenever the door opened, he met with disappointment because it wasn’t you. He couldn’t even continue on his bird. He had doubts on his feelings for you but now, it was clear for him that he liked you. Your thoughts haunted him. His heart earned for you. Only for you to return.

After a long hard day of work, you sneaked out of the castle in the evening and went to Kidd’s shop. You opened the door and your eyes met with Kidds. You both stared at eachother for a few seconds before he spoke.

“Come in”, you obliged and walked into the shop towards the desk where you both made bird. It was just like it was 3 days ago. “You didn’t continue to make the bird?”, you inquired as he just turned away and shook his head as he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Kidd, its late and I have to leave soon so listen to me”, his vision shifted to you as he gulped.

“But you just came, why do you have to leave?” he asked as he approached you and placed his hands on your shoulder.

“Aww did you miss me?” you tried to tease him but this time, he neither denied nor looked away from you blushing. He stayed silent for a while before he said, “I did”

You didn’t even expect that from Kidd. His hands travelled down from your shoulders to your hands. “I did miss you. So much that I couldn’t even touch that bird”, He looked serious. He placed one hand on your chin and looked into your eyes.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think your thoughts would haunt me that much when you didn’t come. I… I didn’t know when, why or how. But I know that, I have feelings for you little lady”, his voice trembled as he spoke the last bit.

“Kidd are you serious?” you asked placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch and nodded. His eyes looked desperate for your answer. Pulling him towards you, you connected your lips with his. The kiss was gentle and with so much of emotion.

Both pulled away to look into each other’s eyes. “I have feelings for you too Kidd”, you smiled and Kidd’s face lit up making you smile in return. He leaned and touched your forehead with yours and exhaled with relief. “Can I request you something Kidd?”, you asked and he nodded.

“Can you come to the castle this coming Wednesday?”

“To the castle? Why?”

“There is a ball going to be held and I want you to come”, you said and stepped back, away from his touch. “Now it’s my turn to wait for you, I should tell you something. So please come”, the last part sounded more like a pleading and with that you left the shop.

Kidd didn’t knew why you had to leave so early. His heart was beating so fast. Confused whether whatever happened now was real or not. He sat on his chair unable to remove your pleading face from earlier. Kidd looked at the bird which was unfinished and took the screw driver to continue working on it. Its been a while since he alone worked on something. It wasn’t a new feeling for him but still, he preferred to talk and have you around while he made it.

The day of the ball arrived. You wore your outfit and looked out the window at the crowd of people came to the castle. Men and women from so many places arrived there. With the help of Robin you made sure that when Kidd comes, he wouldn’t be stopped by any of the guards. The time was almost running out. The first dance was supposed to be started soon but you couldn’t find Kidd anywhere.

Your parents were urging you to find a partner and start the first dance. ‘So Kidd isn’t coming’, you thought and tilted your head up to prevent the tears falling out from your eyes. You pinched your skin trying to distract the pain away. Stepping on the ball room in your burgundy coloured dress, you walked with a straight face. Then suddenly your eyes fell on a person, who was trying to not be visible in the crowd but, his hair was definitely saying otherwise. You swiftly made your way towards that person.

People cleared way for you and it didn’t take long for you to meet the person with the red hair. He was wearing golden coloured suit and his hair was combed back neatly. He looked different but it was him. His cheeks turned the same colour of his hair. You chuckled and took his hand, pulling him towards the middle of the ball room. You placed your hands on his shoulder and pulled him closer to you. His hand trembled before he placed it on your waist. With that the music played and you both danced, with other people also dancing.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“How could I? You are a princess and why didn’t you tell me you were a princess?”

“Would you even talk to me like you did if you knew I were a princess?”

“That’s… true but… now here I am, with the princess Y/N in my arms”, he said pulling you closer. You giggled and pushed back the strand of hair which was on his forehead. You both smiled at each other and continued dancing. After the first dance, he pulled you away from the ball room and you followed. He walked towards the garden where no one was and took out something from under the bench.

“What did you bring?”, you asked. He turned and showed it to you. Your eyes went wide looking at the bird that he brought.

“You made her at last!” you exclaimed as he looked down shyly. “Yeah kind of made it. I wanted to show it to you today”

“I love it so much”, you said as you took it in your hands. It was your memory. The time you spent making it with Kidd. It was precious to you two.

“Keep it. It’s yours now”, he said as he smiled.

“Really?! I will take care of it so well”, you replied and jumped on him making him catch you quickly. You looked at him and leaned in for kissing him again. Now, it was passionate. No one to intrude as you were alone. Smiling you pulled back and leaned your forehead with his.

You now found a grumpy man, who would understand you and would really be the reason for you to smile.

Made with picrew

XOXOXOXO

I hope you liked it. Thankyou for reading.

A comment, Like/Vote, Reblog/Share would be appreciated!!

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im-not-a-writer · 3 years

Text

Assassins Creed Confession List

A preference list! How exciting! So here’s just a few fun prompts of how it think some of the AC characters would confess to you! I hope none of them are too OOC, enjoy!

Altair-

At first, he sort of just stands there staring down at you from under his hood, you can’t see his eyes but you feel them burning into you. Your face is still red hot from your impassioned confession and right now the only thing you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and pretend this never happened. Of course your mentor didn’t return your feelings, Altair was… Altair. He was practically untouchable and yet you stood your ground. What was the worst thing that could happen? You see his mouth curl in a sideways grin and your heart skips a beat. Slowly he lifts his hands up and removes his hood and you freeze. His amber eyes meet yours and in an instant, you feel arms circle your back and pull you flush to his chest. Warmth spreads across your neck, ears, and cheeks and soon his lips are against yours in a shocking yet powerful kiss. You lose all senses and melt into his arms but he ends the kiss short by leaning into your ear and chucking a soft “Novice.”

Ezio-

You weren’t going to lie, you probably could have confessed in a more relaxed fashion. Something about screaming ‘I love you’ on the top of a roof while in the middle of what was supposed to be a covert mission didn’t seem like the best idea. Ezio practically jumped out of his skin when you did but instead of scolding you for possibly ruining the mission he just looked at you with a lopsided grin and slightly pink cheeks. Your heart started to race as you stared at him in front of you, his smile, his perfect jawline, my god he really is perfect. He shook off his shock and reached out to hold your hands.

“I’m glad to hear that, I’m sure half the guards in the city are glad to hear it too,”

He kissed you somewhat lightly at first which surprised you but it wasn’t long before he deepened the kiss and had your back against the wall.

“Why don’t we try to keep quiet from now on, hm bella?’

Connor-

To be honest he wasn’t even sure he said it. It just sort of happened. One moment he was critiquing you on your archery skills and the next he was holding you tightly and running a hand through your hair. His hand resting on the small of your back and your middles pressed together. You always knew Connor was a man of few words and you always liked him that way, he was much better at showing his feelings than talking about them. His hand cupped your cheek and you smiled and leaned forward before rising up on the tips of your toes and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You caught him off guard and when you pulled away he just stared down at you with this lost look on his face.

“So um… is it safe to say… that... you and I…” He started, blushing and avoiding your gaze.

“Yes, it is,” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“...good,” He smiled and went in for another kiss, this time with much more confidence.

Edward-

The pirate captain himself, the demon of the seven seas, the master assassin Edward Kenway himself just confessed to you… and he was drunk. He was lying on his back on the shore, shirtless and still wet from his impromptu swim and he had the biggest smile on his face.

“You are just absolutely beautiful… everything about you… you are so wonderful.” He laughed deeply and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’d wager you aren’t even human, you’re too perfect,” He laughed and looked over at you.

You were sitting next to him smiling, trying not to take his drunken confession too seriously.

He beckoned you over and you obliged, walking over and sitting next to him.

“Are you a Siren?” he asked, reaching his hand up to twirl a lock of your hair. “Trying to lure me to death with your beauty?”

“What do you think?” You replied.

“I think I love you,” He smiled and cupped your cheek sweetly.

“I love you too, now come on, it’s bedtime.”

Arno-

You knew Arno might not be over losing Elise and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin your relationship with your best friend. It was just so hard keeping it quiet. You were pacing around the upstairs of the cafe theatre, your steps heavy as you frantically racked your brain for any sort of action. You knew you couldn’t just let this sit, it wasn’t healthy but what else could you do? You didn’t notice through all of your pacing when Arno walked upstairs and leaned on the banister to stare at you.

“You know I can think of a few better places to take a walk but I guess this way you won’t get rained on,” he smirked and pulled you from your trance.

“Hah hah, very funny…” you sighed and looked away, bringing your hand to your temples to rub out what stress you could.

In just a few steps he was behind you, arms around your waist and head atop yours, “What’s wrong ma cherie?” his voice rumbling in his chest turning your attention to his very close position.

“It’s really nothing,” you sighed.

“I wouldn’t say that. love is a very serious emotion.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you flipped around to face him.

“Oh was it a secret?” He chuckled, “Don’t worry darling, for the record I love you too,” He laughed before pecking you on the forehead and smirking down at your shocked expression.

Jacob-

For a gang leader and a master assassin, Jacob was absolutely terrified of you. You were everything to him and the idea of losing you was too much to think about even for a moment. The moments that you spent together were the most precious in his life even if it was just missions and the occasional meeting in the pub. What he would give just to see you smile or hear you laugh, to have your arms around him and your lips on his. It was the most difficult when you were together. You were talking to him about your day, your eyes rolling with every snide comment, your fingers twirling your hair gently and he was entirely enamored by every movement, every word that fell from your lips.

“I love you,” he thought. Outloud. shit.

“Ah-” you stopped and blinked a few times before widening your eyes and meeting his gaze, your cheeks flushed bright red. “ Jesus Jacob maybe give me some warning next time!” you gasped and he stared blankly contemplating what was wrong with him.

“I love you too…. Wanker,” You laughed and swatted him on the arm.

Evie-

Evie knows the importance of professionalism. That’s why even when you distracted her to no end she tried her best to keep a level head and carry on with the job. You, on the other hand, felt no shame in love, but you did feel shame in not having the right timing. You were in the middle of training, throwing knives and sword fighting when you and Evie were locked in a ferocious battle. Fists flew through the air as you swung for her face and she went low instead. Luckily you both blocked expertly but unluckily for her, you weren’t going to let her win this. You caught her fist and yanked her towards you, wrapping your arms around her waist and crashing your lips into hers. Her eyes widened but she allowed herself to give into the kiss quickly, kissing back happily. A few passion filled moments passed before her knee flew up and jammed itself into your stomach making you double over in pain.

“Smart move, won’t work a second time though,” She smirked.

Kassandra-

Kassandra was no stranger to passion but you on the other hand were a novice to the world of love. Whereas on the battlefield you were a master, ducking and sweeping, hacking and stabbing, evading and confusing, you were all too clumsy when it came to your feelings. You were sitting together, sharpening your weapons when she caught you staring at her, watching her graceful hands pull her blade across the whetstone.

“Something wrong friend?” She looked over slightly as she continued to sharpen.

“With me? Absolutely not, is there something… wrong with… uh is there…. Are you wrong?” You stuttered frantically as you forced your attention away from her and continued to sharpen.

She stared at you slightly with wide eyes until tilting her head slightly and putting her sword down.

“Are you? Nervous around me?” A sparkle came to her eyes.

“What!? Absolutely not, I would absolutely never uh no of course not, you’re just stunning and- well that’s not what I mean to say but you are! Don’t get me wrong you are! It’s just you’re…. Ok now I’m a little nervous….” you stammered putting your blade on the table and shifting uncomfortably.

Kassandra laughed and stood up, walking over in front of you and forcing your gaze to meet hers. She lowered a hand and pushed your chin up slightly before lowering herself down and straddling your thighs. You felt your entire face go red as you felt her sit on you and as her face was so close.

“I uh er… I ah” You started but she just laughed and lowered her face to meet yours, saying just before kissing you, “it’s ok, we don’t need words, just actions yes?”

Eivor-

You were a seer in training in the settlement under the guidance of your aunt Valka and Eivor was your favorite subject to practice on, when he was here of course. His absence gave you plenty of time to long for him and ask the gods for your help. You were out in the garden, praying to Freyja to help you gain the confidence to confess to Eivor but little did you know he had chosen this moment to eavesdrop.

“Please Freyja, I ask for your help” You sighed and you lay in the grass. “How am I supposed to tell Eivor I love him… What if he doesn’t feel the same?” You looked down in anguish.

“You could always ask him,” A gruff voice spoke from behind you.

You flipped around to see the man himself and instantly your face went red.

“His reply might surprise you,” He laughed as he kneeled down in the grass and took your face in his large hands and pressed a gentle kiss upon your lips.

You leaned into the kiss and felt your heart melt as he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you propped up.

“...so your answer?” You asked sheepishly.

Eivor laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “I think Freyja has brought me to you, I love you very much,”

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

Note

Sort of a prompt I guess? I think it would be funny if geralt and jaskier got married in by accident (fairy married or something like that maybe?) and don't know how to or can't undo it so they just decide to go along with it till they can and by then they relize they don't want to? I don't know what do you think

fuck yeah. I love accidental marriage aus!

tw: accidental marriage, self-doubt

---

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “And this will tell me whether or not I’m in love?”

“Yeah!”

The witcher allows Jaskier to rub the blossom beneath his chin. It tickles very briefly but Geralt is too focused on the way his bard’s blue eyes are shining in the early August light to be bothered. Geralt is too busy staring at the way Jaskier’s brows have scrunched together and the way his cute pink tongue pokes out from between the tight line of his lips as he keeps concentration.

When he’s finished, Jaskier hands him a fresh bloom and declares: “Now you have to do me!”

Geralt returns the favor, ignoring the way heat creeps up the back of his neck at Jaskier’s particular wording of that order. When he thinks he’s done, he lowers the flower to his side and shrugs. “Now what?”

“Is there yellow on my chin? Yours is practically glowing from all the gold in your stubble! You’re in love, Geralt! Fantastic!”

“You might be worse off than I am,” Geralt smiles softly, thumbing some of the pollen from Jaskier’s chin and wiping it on his own dark armor. No point in ruining any more of the bard’s fancy silks. “I guess we’re both smitten.”

“Congratulations!” a high, sing-song voice suddenly calls from the dark of the forest. Geralt shoves Jaskier behind him, sheltering as much of the bard as possible with his shoulder and chest. The arm that isn’t already wielding his silver sword curls protectively backwards, keeping Jaskier close.

“Who goes there!?”

“That’s quite enough posturing, Master Witcher,” a lower, equally melodious voice informs him. Geralt doesn’t lower his sword in the slightest. From the tree-line emerges a line of Faerie folk, dressed in billowing gowns of bright, summery colors. At their head is a tall, slender woman with large green eyes and fiery red hair. “We’ve only come to congratulate you on your marriage. You did follow the tradition rightly, and we’ve come to bestow our blessings upon you both.”

“Our... what?”

“Your wedding,” the strange creature replies. “He pledged himself to you with the flower pollen and he did the same in return, yes?”

“I didn’t know it was-”

“It matters not,” the woman interrupts. “It has been done.”

“Can you un-do it?!” Jaskier cries, flinging himself to his knees. “I never meant- He wasn’t supposed to-”

“Wasn’t supposed to what?” Geralt asks, interrupting the bard’s sobs. “We’re married?”

“By Faerie law,” the woman nods. Jaskier shakes his head and Geralt’s heart falls into his boots. Of course, he realizes. Of course Jaskier wouldn’t want to be tied down, especially not to... someone like me.

“He doesn’t deserve this,” the bard pleads, and Geralt’s head snaps up. What? “He doesn’t deserve to be trapped any more! He doesn’t deserve to be tied down by Destiny or Fate or- or-” Jaskier hiccups, tears flowing freely over ruddy-red cheeks “-stupid bards.”

Geralt realizes, very suddenly and with no small amount of shock or awe, that Jaskier truly does love him. The pollen...

“It only works if you’re in love, right?” he asks the Faerie matron. She nods.

“The magic only takes if you’re both in love with each other,” she explains, the light of understanding finally dawning in her eyes. “And I would not have been summoned to give blessing if you were not deeply enamored with each other.”

“G-Geralt?”

“Hmm,” the witcher hums, smiling down at his bard. He helps Jaskier to his feet and winds his arms around the slighter man’s waist. “I do, Jaskier. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, of course. Ardently and with all of my being.”

“Then, Jaskier and Geralt, married this day by the laws of my people, will you accept our blessings?”

Jaskier nods before Geralt can ask for clarification and the witcher knows already that his newly minted husband will probably be the death of them both. The woman places the palm of her left hand over their joined ones and speaks clearly: “May you never part unless by death. May your lives be long and prosperous and filled with love and song. May the forest always guide you safely home, for you are bound eternally by the love in your souls. Let it never burn out.”

And then, with a flash, the Faeries were gone.

“So...uh...” Jaskier rubs nervously at the back of his neck with his free hand. Geralt tangles their fingers together easily and smiles.

“How about we head to the coast for our honeymoon?” he suggests. Jaskier throws his arms around his witcher’s neck and kisses him straight on the mouth. Both of them smile into it, like idiots, and turn back toward the road.

“Sounds lovely.”

#geraskier #fae #geraskier fluff #geraskier wedding #geraskier accidental marriage au #accidental marriage #fluff #the universe ships it #love confessions #first kiss #marriage #getting married #geraskier first kiss #bouncey's endless getting together fics #bounceacoinoffyouranons #prompt fill

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blockgamepirate · 3 years

Text

So we were talking on Discord about a DSMP superpowers AU, specifically Syndicate as an anarchist superhero team who are perceived as villains by pretty much everybody. (There were a bunch of people involved in the brainstorming but I wanna particularly credit @macachee for the idea for Techno’s superpowers, even though I ended up using a slightly different version than theirs.)

Anyway I know I don't really write fanfic anymore and I'm extremely rusty but uh... my hand slipped?

(CW: nothing major but there are repeated mentions of fire and some pretty tame violence)

×××

"Professor Underscore, I presume?"

The distinctive deep voice of an infamous supervillain was really not something anyone wanted to hear after 14 hours of last minute bug-fixing on a prototype superweapon in a secret laboratory. Especially when all your assistants had already called it a day and gone home.

Without even looking around, Tubbo reached for the gun in his desk drawer but before he could pull it out, a blade smashed into the wood right next to his hand.

"Nope", said the voice, "you don't get to have weapons, I get to have weapons. And speaking of weapons..."

Tubbo carefully turned around on his chair to face his attacker. As expected, it was a huge, hulking pigman dressed in flashy red and a golden mask.

"You are Protesilaus, aren't you? From the Syndicate?"

Protesilaus blinked at him. "You're a LOT younger than I expected, professor."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I mean it's very impressive though, good for you."

"Thanks."

"So anyway, I'm here for the weapons."

"The weapons are kinda reserved already. You know, for the military."

"Don't give a shit", said a voice from the door. "Gib."

Protesilaus sighed. "Zephyrus, you're supposed to be the secret back-up."

The man hiding by the door frame laughed. "We already took care of the guards. There's nobody here but him, it's fiiine."

"But what if HE has his own secret back-up? What then? Well, it's too late now so just keep a look-out, alright?"

Zephyrus laughed again. "Sure."

"Alright." Protesilaus pointed his sword at Tubbo. "Show us to the weapons."

×××

There wasn't much he could think of doing to stall except try and tap in the pin codes on the doors as slowly as humanly possible. To be fair he didn't even really know what he was stalling for exactly. Secret back-up would have been nice but if they’d really taken out all the guards then none was likely to come.

Protesilaus was following him, sword in hand, making random small talk on the way as if he didn't know how to deal with the silence. Tubbo had only caught a few glimpses of Zephyrus, the winged man, in the background or in reflections. He seemed to be tampering with the security systems on the way, meaning that Tubbo really might be completely alone on this if the sabotage was successful. Zephyrus was also pulling along a big wheeled container of some sort that was probably intended for the weapons.

The two of them were the known members of the Syndicate, a team of anarchist terrorists who gave nightmares to the local police forces, the national guard and occasionally the military, but it was also widely theorized to have a secret third member with fire powers. Nobody had ever managed to catch them in the act, the only evidence of the secret member's existence was the trail of smoking ruins following the pair, their targets always burned down in a blaze of extremely memorable pink flames.

Tubbo had a theory that there were actually two secret members in the Syndicate, because if you're going to have one secret member you might as well have two, right? Maybe even three! It just made sense.

His assistants hadn't seemed convinced by this logic.

They arrived at the large hall leading up to the main vault where the prototypes were hidden and Tubbo finally had a plan. Somebody (probably him, honestly) had left the remote control of his battle bots lying around on a sidetable. He took advantage of his captors checking the space for surprise guards and inched slowly towards the remote.

"Everything good up there?" Protesilaus called out to Zephyrus who had flown up to the rafters.

"All good."

"Alright, seems safe enough", said Protesilaus. "Now, open the vault."

Tubbo just needed to stall a little bit longer until he could grab the remote undetected. "Actually, maybe I just won't be able to live with the fact that I let you guys get your hands on superweapons? What if I'd rather die than let you have them?"

Protesilaus sighed. "Look, don't worry, it's for a good cause, I promise."

"I mean, you guys are supervillains."

"Oh yeah sure, you're literally making weapons for an imperialist government but we're the villains?"

"What about that orphanage you burned down?" Tubbo kept moving towards the sidetable, trying to make it look like he was just pacing nervously.

"I have NEVER burned down any orphanages, I do NOT have an irrational hatred of small children, in fact I LOVE orphans in particular, you can ask anyone."

"You did, though! That was like two years ago, back when you were part of the Sleepy Bois Inc!"

Tubbo actually knew quite a lot about the Sleepy Bois, the infamous villain team who were particularly known for conning people into taking part in some sort of strange experiments, like that time they somehow transported a hundred people to the moon and told them to terraform a random area. The group had broken up a while back and two of the four had since reformed. Well, more or less reformed anyway. Actually not really reformed, but they were at least sticking to smaller crimes these days.

Anyway Mr. Business was now one of Tubbo's best friends, although nobody was supposed to know that. And Dirty Crime Boy seemed like a surprisingly nice guy. He was out there running what seemed to be some kind of a drug van but Tubbo had chosen not to worry about it too much.

The other two members, however...

"Sleepy Boys? Doesn't ring a bell." Protesilaus' face was suspiciously blank.

"You know, back when you called yourself the Blood God."

"Nah nah nah, I'm Protesilaus, not the Blood God."

"Come on, you're OBVIOUSLY the Blood God."

"I've never even heard of that guy."

"You're LITERALLY a pigman with superhealing powers and a shiny magical sword, you wear a crown AND you're hanging out with a blond guy with wings who looks just like the Angel of Death."

"Wow, wild coincidence", said Protesilaus

“Not gonna lie, the Angel of Death is a really cool name“, said Zephyrus.

Tubbo ignored them. "And you sound exactly like the Blood God."

"I don't hear it", said Protesilaus.

"You said you don't even know who he is!"

"Exactly."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'EXACTLY'??? THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!!"

"Well I can't hear it if I've never even heard him speak. That's just logic."

Up in the rafters Zephyrus was cackling like a madman.

"You annoy me so much", said Tubbo.

"Aaaanyways, just give us a little peek into the vault, alright? Just out of curiosity, you know."

Tubbo had made it to the remote, he just needed one more distraction to cover for him grabbing it. "Uh..." Then he had an idea: he just took a quick sudden glance at the exit, as if he'd seen something over there and sure enough both of the criminals immediately turned to check. It was just long enough. He got the remote. "Okay fine, you can see the vault."

"Nice, nice." Protesilaus was still glancing around suspiciously but he had no idea what he should have been suspicious of.

Tubbo was more than happy to open the vault now. It might be holding the prototypes but it was also filled with a small army of robots.

All of which came to life with the press of a button.

"Ah", said Protesilaus. "There's his secret back-up."

"Oh Jesus", said Zephyrus. "I think we fucked up."

"You could say that", said Tubbo. "If you just leave peacefully I might let you go", he added in a sudden fit of uncharacteristic levels of confidence.

Protesilaus raised his sword. "Well you see, I really want those weapons, though."

"I guess you'll just have to fight the robots for it then", said Tubbo, configuring the targetting system.

"Mate, they've got guns on them", Zephyrus called out from above.

"Take cover then", said Protesilaus, very much not taking any cover at all himself.

Tubbo, pretty sure the bots knew which people to fight, released them on the criminals.

Protesilaus immediately managed to dodge the first few lazer bolts from the bots, but the third hit him on the arm. He flinched a bit but didn't seem too bothered. "Ouch. Okay so they can actually aim."

Still dancing around the shots, he held his hand to the wound and once he took it off, only the singed hole on his sleeve remained. The Blood God had been known for some kind of healing powers and coincidentally Protesilaus of the Syndicate, who apparently definitely wasn't the Blood God, just happened to also have healing powers. This fight was going to be hard even for thirty robots.

The pigman finally took some cover, hiding behind a pillar. The robots would have to move closer and Tubbo could already tell that if he'd manage to single them out, Protesilaus would easily take them down one by one.

Even worse, Zephyrus had hidden behind a different pillar up near the ceiling and was sniping the bots from above. They were supposed to be bulletproof but the man was absolutely cracked and managed to keep hitting them in the joints and in the eyes.

But at least the bots had given Tubbo some room to work with. He bolted into the vault and headed straight for a very specific section.

"So I just wanna know, professor", Protesilaus called out from the hall, "how are you NOT the evil mastermind here? You have a LITERAL horde of robots in your control that you can just let loose on people!"

"What do you MEAN? They're for fighting people like you! In this exact kind of situation!" Tubbo found what he was looking for and quickly unbuckled the huge harnesses holding it in place. He had to get a stool to reach the highest ones and nearly tripped on it in his hurry.

"Oh and how many of these have you sold to the government? And what if they just decide that they'd be very convenient for taking care of dissenters?"

"Well if the dissenters are literal supervillains, that sounds great." He climbed the ladder on the wall up to the platform by the mech suit and jumped inside.

He couldn't hear what Protesilaus responded after he pulled down the dome of the suit over his body. The sounds of fighting and the bulletproof glass drowned it all out from this distance, and the sound system wasn’t turned on yet. Now the odds should be a lot more even, though. Let’s see how they deal with this, he thought. He settled in and launched the mech--

... and then maneuvered awkwardly through the mess of secret weapons and machines inside his vault. He was pretty sure he didn't break too many things on the way, it was fine. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flash of pink and for a second he worried that the pigman had followed him into the vault where it would be almost impossible for him to fight in the suit but luckily he could still hear the sound of sword clanging into metal from outside.

He moved over to the vault door as sneakily as he could while piloting a 12-foot-tall machine in a tight space and looked out into the hall. The floor was littered with broken robots, and there were several blinded ones aimlessly wandering around and getting in the way of the ones that still functioned properly. Protesilaus was towards the back of the hall, stabbing a bot in the armpit and tearing off its arm, Zephyrus on the other hand, still perching on the rafters, had moved around the pillar he had hidden behind, now aiming away from the vault. Neither of them were looking at Tubbo. He took aim and shot at one of the huge grey wings.

"Ah! Fuck!" Zephyrus spun around. "You little shit!"

"Zephyrus, are you okay??" Protesilaus immediately looked over to his ally and took another hit himself.

"I'm FINE, dude!" Zephyrus sounded exasperated but fond. "Look out yourself! Also the kid has a fucking mech."

"A what?"

Tubbo slammed the vault door shut. Good luck getting in there now, Syndicate. Then he tossed aside some robot carcasses to clear out the floor and threw one at Protesilaus who dodged it easily but in the process took another hit from a different robot. He was starting to look tired and he was obviously distracted by Zephyrus getting hurt. That was promising.

Tubbo started climbing the pillar up to the ceiling. Zephyrus cursed again and tried to hop around the pillar to run across to the other side but his hurt wing didn't open properly so he lost his balance, slipped up and fell. "Shit!"

"ZEPHYRUS!"

The man managed to open his wings and soften the fall but the injury made him veer dangerously to the left and crash into a pile of broken robots. Protesilaus leaped over to him, dropping his sword and laying his hands on his friend's wing and back. A faint red glow emitted from the touch points.

Tubbo jumped back down to the ground and stormed at them. He punched the pigman right in the chin, sending him flying across the room. He then tried to grab Zephyrus but the man had already slipped away and had apparently managed to pick up his friend's sword. "You motherfucker", the man said, "I'm going to take that fucking suit apart and then it's your turn."

"Zeph!" Protesilaus called from the side and Zephyrus tossed the sword to him without taking his eyes of off Tubbo. Then the man pulled up his sniper rifle again and Tubbo quickly covered his weak points with his armoured arms and jumped behind a pillar. He needed to disarm Zephyrus ASAP.

Behind them, Protesilaus was taking care of the last few robots. Tubbo didn't have much time, but he couldn't do anything until Zephyrus would have to reload, the guy was just too accurate...

"Oh fuck", said Zephyrus suddenly. "Prot, the door!"

They all turned to look at the exit.

There, at the door, was Ranboo, widened eyes flicking between Tubbo, the broken robots and the Syndicade. He was holding a bowl of biscuits and a cup of tea. "Uh... hello? Hi?"

Ranboo was actually NOT allowed in the vaults but how do you stop someone who can literally teleport anyway? Tubbo was glad to see him sneaking in, though.

"Ranboo! Help! They're trying to steal the weapons!"

"I..." Ranboo seemed frozen in place.

"Ranboo!" Tubbo was starting to get worried. His husband wasn't even taking any shelter. He drove the mech over to him to at least give him some protection.

"I just came to bring you cookies? Coz I thought maybe you were staying late to make the deadline and I thought--"

"Ranboo, I'm being attacked by supervillains right now!"

"Look, what if we just talked this through? I'm sure everybody here would rather not kill each other, right?" Ranboo was tall enough to lay a hand on Tubbo's shoulder even when he was wearing the mech suit which kind of pissed Tubbo off to be quite honest.

"Sure", said Protesilaus, "I love negotiating. Give us the weapons and their blueprints and we're more than happy to go."

"See? That's good, right? Tubbo, we can just let them have the weapons."

"Ranboo, sometimes you're a bit too quirky for my liking. Stop being quirky, help me fight them. You can use your... T-E-L-I-P-O-R-T-A-T-I-O-N powers."

Everybody just stared at him for a second.

"Shouldn't it be T-E-L-E?" said Protesilaus.

"Tubbo, you realise they can spell words too, you know, like most people who graduated elementary school?" said Ranboo.

"I'M SORRY! I'M TIRED, OKAY?"

“You could have just said ‘use your powers’, I mean, I know what my powers are.”

“IT'S BEEN A REALLY LONG DAY!“

"Zephyrus, I think this guy might be too much for us, I've never met such intimidating intellect", said Protesilaus. Zephyrus seemed to already be dying of laughter and his ally's words did not help.

"Now that's just rude," said Tubbo.

He'd barely finished his sentence when a horrible whistling sound hit them all like an invisible cargo train. After a second Tubbo managed to reassemble his braincells long enough to figure it out: "The fire alarm!"

Then he noticed the grin on his enemy's face. "Well, good job, everyone! Let's go home, Zephyrus", said Protesilaus cheerfully.

"Sure, mate."

The secret third member of the Syndicate, Tubbo suddenly remembered. The container they'd brought with them was gone too. Well, fuck. "This whole thing was a diversion??"

"Yep." The Protesilaus was already at the exit and Zephyrus was following right behind him. "See ya, losers!"

Something inside the vault exploded, making a muffled bang through the door, as if just to prove where exactly the fire had been lit.

"Oh man..." Tubbo flopped down on his seat. "I spent SO LONG building all those things!"

"Tubbo, we need to get out." Ranboo took him by the hand of his mech suit and pulled him along.

"No, we could still go in and save the--"

"No, Tubbo. Let's NOT run into the vault full of dangerous chemicals that's literally on fire, actually."

×××

By the time the fire department showed up, pink flames had enveloped the entire lab complex. The terrorists presumably had at least one of the prototypes now and all the remaining ones were a lost cause.

It's not like all the work was gone to waste, they'd made some backups at least, but it would be a pain to find a new lab and order all the extremely volatile chemicals again. So much paperwork. Tubbo was really not good at paperwork.

"Well, there goes my summer holidays I guess", he said.

"Yeah", said Ranboo. "There they go."

×××

"So... Lethe", said Techno at the next Syndicate meeting, "you never happened to mention you were friends with Professor Underscore."

Ranboo shifted nervously in his chair. "I mean... in my defence, you never said you were going to raid his lab?"

"True, true. It didn't seem like relevant information at the time I suppose. You know, because you're kinda more in the group just for the book club and Bake Off Fridays and not so much for the vigilante thing."

"How do you know Professor Underscore, Lethe?" asked Niki gently.

Ranboo looked around the table. He was fairly certain that the others wouldn't kill him for fraternizing with the enemy. He was pretty sure anyway. At least 70% sure.

Also they were all staring at him now.

"Uh... he's my... husband?"

The staring continued.

"Oh!" said Niki.

"Well", said Techno. "This is awkward."

"Uh huh?" Ranboo responded, his entire body tense and slightly wobbly.

"Techno", Phil said softly. Techno brushed him off.

"So uh, are you attached to him, Lethe?"

"Y-yes?" Ranboo straightened his back. "Yes." he said again, more firmly.

"Alright. I guess in the future we should try not to kill him then."

#dsmp fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction #im not tagging the others #i feel like im too much of a techno stan and it shows

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Note

Hi uh idk if like requests are open but if they are could you possibly do nihachu x fem reader where they’re both streamers and accidentally reveal something on stream (like one calls the other babe or something like that) and lots of teasing from the other smp members ensues? Only if you’re like comfortable :)

I tried lmaoo i’m not the best at writing for real people over fictional ones but i really liked the request so i did my best!

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

Warnings : nothing but floof :), some cursing

Word Count : 1.1k

Slip Ups

Nihachu x Fem!Reader

Niki walked up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, you put your hands on hers, leaning back into her embrace. You were busy making sure your stream setup was perfect for later and after an hour of testing and moving equipment, you were glad to be back in her arms.

“Ready for tonight?” she said sweetly into your ear, pulling away so you could turn and face her.

“More than ready,” you smiled, kissing the tip of her nose, “I just hope the audio is going to be okay,”

“I’m sure everything will be fine,”

“Let’s hope so.”

With a light giggle, Niki stepped away, moving to the small desk you kept by the door and grabbed two mugs.

“Thought we could just relax a bit before stream,” she shrugged, handing you your mug and taking a seat on the sofa towards the left of the room.

You sighed, walking over and taking a seat beside her. You let her lean into you, throwing your arm around her shoulder, squeezing her close. You put your head on hers, taking a sip of the tea she made for you.

“Yeah, we could stay like this for a bit babe,”

She giggled in response, turning to peck the side of your cheek, “Babe? That’s a new one,”

“Just trying out new things,” you bit your lip, trying to suppress the heat rising to your face.

She thought for a bit, letting the silence linger for a moment as she took a sip of her own tea, “I like it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really,”

You kissed the side of her forehead, pressing your lips firmly against her pink hair, making her face scrunch up cutely.

“Then I better start using it often then.”

…

You yawned, adjusting the headphones on your head after stretching in your chair. You leaned in once again, speaking into the mic.

“Okay, maybe we should’ve used dark oak…”

“Well no shit Y/n,” Wilbur scoffed, jumping down from the structure you were building and punching your character.

You crouched, tilting your head to the floor, “Well sorry for having faith in jungle.”

“That was your first mistake.” Tubbo butting in, hitting your character as well but with an iron axe.

You grunted, switching to your netherite sword and chasing the boy down prime path.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK BEE BOY!”

“NEVER!”

Everyone else started to laugh in the call at your antics, the chat was enjoying it as well. Soon enough Tommy jumped in, chasing Tubbo along with you causing him to scream even louder.

“What the hell Tommy! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m always on a woman’s side Tubbo! Now get back here you son of a bitch and die for your crimes or I swear-”

“What do you mean crimes! What did I do!”

“You hit a woman Tubbo! Now you must lose a cannon life...”

“Since when was that a crime!”

“Since now big man! Since now!”

You noticed Niki’s character coming up in the distance. With a worn out sigh, you stopped sprinting and walked to where your girlfriend stood continuing to build her house.

“For the record, I think it looks great,” Niki said, giggling as you sneaked towards her.

You stopped in front of her, watching as the two boys kept on bickering and fighting. Passing a hand over your face you spoke tenderly, “Thanks babe.”

The call suddenly went quiet after your words. You chuckled nervously, looking around at everyone that started to surround you and Niki, all of them staring you down. In the other room, Niki was blushing. Looking at the chat in her second monitor, they began freaking out about your slip up and her reaction, making the red deepen on her cheeks even more.

“Uhhh-” you moved your arm, gesturing to the new audience, “Everyone alright?”

“What did you call Niki?” Sam asked, knowing fully well the answer.

You froze, eyes widening as you slammed your head on the desk, letting the mic pic up the loud bang. The laughs only amplified at your reaction so you decided to slide off your chair and hide under your desk, slapping your face into your hands to hide your flustered state.

“Aww, she’s embarrassed!” Wilbur snickered.

“Does this mean you both commit marriage fraud together?” Tommy cut in, laughing into his mic, “Because now i’m questioning this friendship Y/n… I can’t go to jail again.”

“Jail?! Again?” Sam exclaimed but was quickly interrupted by Tubbo

“Awwww, I think it’s sweet! Like honey from beeeeees,”

Niki laughed at everyone’s teasing, growing concerned that she wasn’t hearing your own giggles along with her. She looked at her chat again, all of them spamming to go check on you or asking if you were okay because your stream suddenly ended.

“Hold on guys, I’ll be right back,”

“Yeah, you should go check on lover girl, see if she’s doing alright,” Wilbur snickered.

“I will.” she said confidently, deafening herself on discord, switching to her waiting screen and playing ads, telling chat that she would be right back.

She walked into your room, cooing when she saw you under your desk. She walked up and kneeled beside you, gently placing her hands on yours and peeling them off your face.

“Baby?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that- fuck, I just messed everything up didn’t I?”

“No, no, no, Y/n. You didn’t ruin anything!” She reassured you, squeezing your hands in hers, “I mean... we were going to let them know eventually, now you get to say it all the time!”

“Yeah, let twitter freak out for a bit… oh god they’re going to have a field day!”

“We’ll be fine Y/n, trust me,” she passed her hand down the side of your face, letting you nuzzle your nose into her palm, “there going to love us together just as much as I love you,”

You sniffed, “That’s a lot of love,”

“Yes, yes it is,”

You smiled softly up at her, “I bet I love you more though,”

She blushed at your words, “Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I don’t think that’s true,”

“Well I think it is,”

“Prove it then.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, letting you close the small gap she created. The kiss was soft and tender, your lips slowly moving against one another. It wasn't long for the smile growing on your face to break the both of your apart, grinning at each other like it was your first kiss all over again.

“Ready to get back to it?” she questioned, carefully pulling you out from under the table.

You thought about it for a moment.

“Sure babe,” you pecked her forehead, “I’m going to love getting use to that.”

...

Permanent Taglist (Dream SMP) : @ossinsworld @lunarinnit @chaosofsmarty @starstruckllamapuppy @shio-yuki @lovelychasbug @alice-blue-skies

Nihachu Taglist : @whenpugzfly

#nihachu x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader

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jedimaesteryoda · 3 years

Text

Brienne’s Off to See the Wizard

I’m feeling a little silly right now, and in that spirit I’ll say that Brienne's journey in A Feast for Crows draws a bit of The Wizard of Oz: a girl dressed in blue travels with three dudes and a dog along a road on a quest to return a girl home.

Brienne is Dorothy, the protagonist who dresses in blue (armor), and is given Oathkeeper which is sword studded with rubies in place of ruby slippers. At the start, she is accused of killing Renly when she was actually at the wrong place at the wrong time just like Dorothy with her house dropping on the Wicked Witch of the East. Dorothy ends up in Munchkinland of the diminutive Munchkins while Brienne travels through the riverlands which is predominantly made up of smallfolk. Dorothy was brought to Oz by a tornado while Brienne is from the stormlands. Brienne is sent on her mission to return a girl home by Catelyn, the Lady of the North in place of Glinda the Good Witch of the North.

Professor Marvel: I see a woman. She's wearing a polka-dot dress. Her face is careworn. Dorothy: That's Auntie Em. Professor Marvel: Her name is Emily. Dorothy: That's right. What's she doing? Professor Marvel: Well I, uh, I can't quite see. Why, she's crying. Someone has hurt her. Someone has just about broken her heart. Dorothy: Me? Professor Marvel: Well, it's uh, someone she loves very much. Someone she's been very kind to. Someone she's taken care of in sickness. Dorothy: I had the measles once and she stayed right by me every minute. What's she doing now? Professor Marvel: Well, she's, uh...What's this? Well, she's, she's putting her hand on her heart. Oh, she's, she's dropping down on the bed. Dorothy: Oh, no, no, no. Professor Marvel: Uh, that's it, the crystal's gone dark. Dorothy: You don't suppose she could really be sick, do you? Oh, I've got to go home right away.

Go home, child. You have a home, which is more than many can say in these dark days. You have a noble father who must surely love you. Consider his grief if you should never return. Perhaps they will bring your sword and shield to him, after you have fallen. Perhaps he will even hang them in his hall and look on them with pride . . . but if you were to ask him, I know he would tell you that he would sooner have a living daughter than a shattered shield."

"A daughter." Brienne's eyes filled with tears. "He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. Galladon drowned when I was four and he was eight, though, and Alysanne and Arianne died still in the cradle. I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son or daughter."

- A Feast for Crows, Brienne VI

Brienne meets people along the way. Elder Brother tells her to abandon her quest, and think of her father who likely misses her while she is away from home just as Professor Marvel told Dorothy to abandon running away and go back home. She also comes across three people and a dog along her quest who end up accompanying her.

Septon Meribald is the Scarecrow. Dorothy meets him in the country where he wants a brain, yet throughout the film demonstrated himself to be intelligent and good on his feet. Meribald is from the country, and at first appears country bumpkin-esque, but actually proves himself to be intelligent with his Broken Men speech. His knowledge of the riverlands also proves to be useful to them throughout the trip.

Hyle Hunt is undoubtedly the Tin Man. Hyle Hunt’s body is covered in the metal of his armor like the Tin Man, and not having a heart appears to describe him pretty well. He calls Brienne ugly to her face when we see him first talk to her. He wants to find Sansa so he can sell her to the Lannisters. When Brother Gillum shows that a horse bit off his ear, Hyle responds by joking about it. When Brienne expresses sympathy for the children at the inn having lost their parents, Hyle’s response is to roll his eyes and mock her for her sympathy. He comes off as an insensitive prick who doesn’t seem very caring towards anyone. However, we are first introduced to him when he defends a smallfolk couple and Brienne from Tarly’s guards, and actually defends Brienne against his boss and liege, Randyll Tarly, which cost him his job. So there might be a heart to him somewhere after all.

Podrick Payne is the Cowardly Lion. Pod served lions, the Lannisters, and with a name like Payne with his distant cousin being Ser Ilyn the King’s Justice one would expect him to be more aggressive and intimidating. Yet, he is described by every POV character that meets him as timid, with Sansa noticing he blushes and stares at her feet every time she talks with him. He is clearly shy, but he rams himself into Mandon Moore just as he is about to kill Tyrion, and then pulls Tyrion to safety from the raging inferno on the Blackwater, saving his life. He later helps Brienne against the undoubtedly dangerous Bloody Mummer deserters. The boy can be shy, but deep inside is brave.

She finally comes across one figure who has gained repute in the land for his ostensible magical ability.

“Oh, no, my dear, I... I'm a very good man - I'm just a very bad Wizard”

"The pink pretender, rather. I am Thoros, late of Myr, aye . . . a bad priest and a worse wizard."

- A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

Brienne eventually meets a man called the "red wizard," Thoros and just as the Wizard was just an ordinary man using smoke and mirrors, Thoros’s magic is usually just pyromancer tricks. Even he admits he isn’t really that much of a wizard or a red priest. But Thoros is a man who spent the entire war aiding the smallfolk of the riverlands, so while not much of a sorcerer, he still is at heart a good man.

Auntie Em: You just had a bad dream.

Dorothy: But it wasn't a dream. It was a place, and you and you and you ... and you were there . . . But you couldn't have been, could you?

Auntie Em: We dream lots of silly things when we...’

Dorothy: No, Aunt Em. This is a real, truly live place. And I remember that some of it wasn't very nice. But most of it was beautiful. But just the same, all I kept saying to everybody was, 'I want to go home.' And they sent me home.

“This is an evil dream, she thought. But if she were dreaming, why did it hurt so much?”

. . .

This time she dreamed that she was home again, at Evenfall. Through the tall arched windows of her lord father's hall she could see the sun just going down. I was safe here. I was safe.

. . .

"I saw him. In the woods."

"A fever dream, my lady."

"He said that he would hang me."

"Even dreams can lie. My lady, how long has it been since you have eaten? Surely you are famished?"

-A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

At the end, she wakes up from a dream, and while in the film, Dorothy is finally home, and her journey was revealed to be a dream, Brienne is far from home in the cave of the Brotherhood without Banners and she wakes up to a living nightmare. Brienne is reunited with the Lady of the North, though unlike in the film with Glinda, it is not a happy reunion, as she is accused of betrayal and her ruby studded sword given to her is used against her as opposed to helping her.

“Bring me the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West.”

"She wants her son alive, or the men who killed him dead," said the big man. "She wants to feed the crows, like they did at the Red Wedding. Freys and Boltons, aye. We'll give her those, as many as she likes. All she asks from you is Jaime Lannister."

-A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

After finding the titular wizard, Dorothy in the story has to go on a side quest to complete her goal of returning home. Brienne finds the red wizard and is now told to prove her loyalty by bringing to them in place of the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West, Jaime Lannister, the twin brother and Lord Commander of Cersei’s Kingsguard sent to pacify the riverlands.

“I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!”

The queen regarded him coolly. "I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I'd thought to wed would have laid a wolfskin across my bed before the sun went down." Robert's face darkened with anger. "That would be a fine trick, without a wolf." "We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.

-A Game of Thrones, Eddard II

As for Cersei, well, she is associated with the color green, is very vindictive and cruel, often associated with wildfire and comes from the westerlands. She also starts at the beginning of the story by having a girl's innocent dog, Lady, killed. Her subordinates are referred to as monkeys with Tyrion, her Hand, being called “a twisted little monkey demon,” Lancel, who served as her sword, is compared to “a mummer’s monkey” and she thinks of Falyse Stokeworth, whom she tried to have kill Bronn, as a “grasping monkey.” Cersei is also looking for the same young girl Brienne is, someone she blames for the death of a relative, and had imprisoned in her castle.

Just who could Cersei's parallel be?

#a feast for crows #brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #wicked witch of the west #dorothy #wizard of oz #the cowardly lion #tin man #oz #the riverlands #thoros of myr #lannister #cersei #cersei lannister

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itskatastrophe-x · 3 years

Text

Far Off Places (CH 2)

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3

Word Count : 3,022

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

It took a few hours to wake up, but when you did, you sat up in a cold sweat, sharp pains shooting through your ribs, legs, and back. Almost three days of walking and running had taken a huge toll on your body. You scrunched your face in pain and shot a hand to your chest, noticing bandages around your arm and hand. That’s when you were very aware of your surroundings and two other figures in your peripheral. You looked at them in shock, their faces mirroring your same expression. You remembered the one with the wings just as you fell to the ground, but this second person you hadn’t seen. How many people were here, you wondered.

You tried to speak but your throat was raw and all that came out were raspy whispers and coughs. The one with wings looked at the taller one and motioned to a doorway. The taller one nodded and walked away swiftly, coming back seconds later with a bottle of water and another one full of a sparkling pink liquid. He handed you both of them and advised to drink the pink one first and wash it down with the water, explaining it was a health potion. You obliged and gulped it as fast as you could, almost gagging from the taste, and quickly chugged and swished the water after, feeling the effects almost instantly. You thanked them both and handed the bottles back to the boy and he took them back through the doorway, leaving you and the winged man alone. You fiddled with the bandages on your arms for a moment and cleared your throat a couple times before finally speaking.

“Where am I? Who are you? Thank you for the help.” The man lightly chuckled and took off his hat, his hair falling to frame his face. “My name is Philza, but you can call me Phil. The other one is Ranboo, he’s our friend that lives over by the mountain.” His voice had a very thick accent, unlike the boy, Ranboo. You nodded and he continued. “You’re outside of the Dream SMP. I live with Ranboo here with Technoblade. He goes by Techno. He’s currently asleep and we’re not sure when he’ll wake up. You’ve seen our dogs,” he chuckles out, drawing a smile onto your face. You scratch the back of your neck and heat makes its way to your face. “I’m sorry if I woke you. Your dogs made quite the ruckus.” He smiles fondly at you and waves you off. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re normally up around that time anyway. Days have been pretty restless lately, what with all the wars and such going on.”

He notices the worry on your face and goes on. “We tend to stay out of things. We’ve been involved too many times and we all like to keep things peaceful. These cabins are essentially a safe place. No one really knows where we live and we’d like to keep it that way. You aren’t here as a spy are you?” You shake your head and look down at your hands, bruises and cuts litter your body, but are slowly fading thanks to the potion from earlier. “No, I uh…” You clear your throat and steel yourself to speak more. “I… I travelled for three days to get here. My homeland was destroyed and I have nowhere to go.”

You look up at the man, the younger boy now standing next to him, staring at you in wonder and concern, the same concern seen in Phil’s eyes. “I’m still not sure how much I can trust anyone so I won’t say much more, but I lost my home and everyone I know. I’ve come a long way and I need somewhere safe. The person that murdered and burned my home could still be out there, and I need help. I know we’re strangers but I hope to trust you two more. You seem like nice people and, if you’re willing, I’d like to find some help some day to go back and figure out what happened.”

They both stare at you for a while until Phil smiles politely and nods. “Of course! Do you have a name you’d like us to call you?” You think for a minute, not being able to come up with a name to go by so as to keep your real name hidden. Ranboo speaks up a minute later. “We could call you Faer, if that’s ok. As a name it means Traveler.” You smile brightly at the small name and nod. “I guess that fits, seeing as I am technically a traveler now. I didn’t do much of that back home, so sure, let’s go with that.” They both nod in unison. “Faer,” you say to yourself. A fitting name, short and sweet and it rolled off the tongue nicely. Maybe one day when you knew you could trust them you’d tell them your real name, but for now that nickname would do.

They gave you some supplies, a bed, and some armor and better clothes after you got some rest and pointed you to a good spot to set up your own little home. They also gave you a map of the surrounding areas and gave you a rundown of some of the people that lived in the main cities, but there were so many that you forgot half of them. Ranboo followed you out to pick a spot to settle down, idly chatting about how life was in the area, who to stay away from, where all the farms were, and just general stuff to pass the time. Eventually you ran out of wood so you both ventured into the woods to chop some more.

After a couple hours, your small abode was looking good. It wasn’t anything fancy or as big as Techno or Phil’s houses, but it did the job. All you had to do yet was finish putting walls up inside, decorating, and making it pretty outside. You added some fences to give yourself a front yard, placed torches to liven up the place, and also made a small deck out front facing the aforementioned houses. It took a couple more hours of work to get the inside done, but everything was done around sunset and you were ready to pass out. Phil came over close to the end and said Techno was awake and they would be over soon to welcome you in. You were grateful to have such a warm welcome, but you were still on edge. How well could you trust these people? Sure, they gave you plenty of things and were friendly, but it felt like they were hiding something or were keeping information away from you. The way they would shirk off certain questions or avoid subjects completely was weird. You assumed it was because they didn’t trust you either, so you shrugged it off. You were a stranger to them. A person that ended up passing out on their land, giving them no info on who you were or where you came from. You were lucky you ended up here, though. Hearing some of the stories Ranboo told you made you glad this was the closest on your journey.

Ranboo returned, after leaving to clean himself up, with some flowers, a diamond sword, and a couple emeralds to get you started. After chatting with him for a couple minutes you heard a knock on your front door, signaling the return of Phil. You hopped off of your seat and opened the door to greet him. He had a couple dishes of various kinds of foods piled into his arms, so you gladly took some from him. What you were not prepared for was Techno. You didn’t know what to expect, as Phil had given no description, but the tall half pig, half human standing behind the winged man with a disgruntled look on his face, flowing red cape, and glinting golden crown was absolutely something you weren’t expecting. I mean, you weren’t one to judge, you just had no clue what to expect. Phil walked past you and asked Ranboo for help setting everything up, leaving you with the large man. He gave you a huff and walked past you, cape gently hitting you in the shins as the wind from him walking pushed it out behind him. You stood there, slightly in shock with the door open, as he made himself at home in your new living room. You closed the door and turned around to see him with his head hanging off the back of the couch, eyes closed and arms crossed. He did just wake up, maybe he’s still tired.

The night was going well in your eyes. You and Ranboo were getting along well and you could see why he was saying Phil was very much like a powerful father figure. Techno joined in on some conversations occasionally when he thought he had something to say. You asked him some simple questions but he refused to answer anything. You chalked it up to him not trusting you at all so you let it slide and shrugged it off. Phil had nudged him or elbowed him a few times if he thought he was getting out of line, but you waved it off saying you weren’t bothered. Honestly you weren’t bothered. You had heard worse in your courts back at home, so little phased you at this point. Thinking about your home had apparently made you zone out, because you were brought back to real life when you heard your new name being called. Ranboo had shook your shoulder lightly, concern etched onto his and Phil’s faces, amusement and curiosity finally glinting in Techno’s eyes. You laughed lightly and put a hand to your face, feeling wetness on your cheeks. When had you started crying?

“Faer, are you ok? What’s wrong?” Ranboo’s hand retracted and he stared at you with intense focus, very clearly concerned. You looked down at your empty plate, long forgotten from the hours before during your conversations. You contemplated telling them the truth, second guessed yourself, then shook your head and covered your face with both hands, letting out a short sigh. You knew you would have to tell them eventually, and you supposed now was as good a time as any. You started off at your lineage, being born into a royal family, being sheltered since you were young, your training and lessons. Everything shortened into smaller stories to keep things simplified. Everything leading up to your parents inevitable deaths and you becoming the ruler of a whole kingdom.

Techno had perked at the words “royal family”, finally becoming invested in something and listening closely, asking questions every once in a while. Ranboo and Phil sat in shock as Techno had basically taken over the conversation, you pouring out details as he asked. You weren’t sure why exactly you were letting him get so much out of you, but all of them seemed to relax the more you talked about your past, until finally you reached the downfall of your oversized city. Ranboo had gotten more invested in this, and seemed to want to figure out how it happened as well. He said he was a fan of theories and small details that seemed to be hidden, so he agreed to helping you find the arsonist.

They asked for coordinates so you got up, grabbed all the plates to take them to the kitchen, found your journal, and brought it back to where everyone was sitting. Ranboo’s eyes lit up as he watched you flip through the pages and you caught onto his gaze and smiled. He opened his own bag and brought out a journal silently, smiling the whole time, mentioning how he kept his own journals. You made a mental note to try to ask about them at another point as he put his away. You finally flipped to the page holding info about your kingdom and pulled out a map from between the pages as well, flipping them to face Techno and Phil. They looked over everything and you watched intently as they pointed and flipped, exchanging words every few seconds.

“We can just make a portal,” Techno finally grunts out. “Most of our locations we stay in have portals to each and highways connecting to the main portal by the community house. The only thing we would worry about is having you out and about. Some of the people here… Aren’t so trustworthy.” You think back to your conversation with Ranboo and nod. “Yeah, Ranboo said something about an Egg? What’s that all about?” They all go quiet and you feel like you’ve asked the wrong question. “I’m assuming it’s nothing good, so I won’t press anymore, but if it’s unavoidable then you’ll have to tell me eventually.” Phil speaks up from his side of the table. “Well, all we should tell you now is to not touch the vines, and if you hear anything to let us know right away. Don’t trust any bad thoughts.” You were taken back by that but hesitantly croaked out an ‘ok’ and left it there.

You all spent the last hour together coming up with a plan to get you to your kingdom, what you could look for, and who else you might be able to trust. The date was decided to be set for a week from the present day and you would find two more people, Karl and Sapnap. Ranboo said you would get along well with them and they were people they knew could help that had a lot of knowledge. Karl was a master at problem solving and a time traveler (though he still didn’t know exactly how to control it and only used it when he had to), and Sapnap was born in fire so he knew it well, meaning he might be able to know something from the wreckage. After everything was said and done, you were waving goodbye as they all crossed the snow covered field to their separate homes.

You shut the door and sighed, leaning your back against the solid wood plank, your head also falling back to rest on it, eyes closing as you listened to your breathing and heartbeat. The gentle crackling from the fireplace and torches calmed your nerves more as you pushed off the door and made your way to the kitchen to extinguish some of the lights. After cleaning up and tidying everything, you looked over the living room once more and smiled to yourself, finding your way up the stairs and into your bathroom to wash off and get ready to sleep.

All this alone time gave you time to think about the plans, and the more you thought, the more you doubted this person named Sapnap. You were told he had some kind of fire ability, and seeing as most of your kingdom was set on fire, you didn’t think he was very trustworthy. No matter how far away this place was, he was still suspicious to you. I mean, what were you supposed to think when you got to a random location and on the first day upon arrival you were told that there was someone here with a fire ability? Were you just supposed to trust this stranger immediately, just like that? You didn’t like that thought at all, but you trusted Ranboo and Phil enough already that you figured you should give this Sapnap guy a chance.

And with those last few thoughts, you finished settling in to sleep, finally in a proper bed after three long days. The thick blanket and the flickering light of the last embers in the hearth helped you to drift off to sleep. You made a mental note to write in your journal when you wake up, since you were exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open.

Hot. Burning. Loud crashing. Your eyes snapped open and you were finally aware of your surroundings. Your kingdom around you, burning to the ground, craters dotted the ground. You were surrounded by fire. You screamed out in pain and searched for a safe way out. Why was this happening? No. You knew the answer, you just had to remember. Right? Right! Dreams. You could solve things using your dreams, being thrown back into the middle of situations to see what went wrong. To look over missed details. The only downside was the fact that all your senses still worked. It was like time travelling but without all the paradoxical consequences. Essentially just to play detective.

You ran through the blaze, trying to find a safe path while also looking for clues. There was nothing but destruction, burnt remains, and the smell of burning wood. You finally made it to a clearing where the plaza in front of the castle was, and there in the distance between all the red flames and black smoke, there was a flash of color. It was fast, so you almost missed it, but it was there. Who was that? With that thought alone, you were sprinting in the same direction, not caring about the flames that would kiss your skin or the ember covered logs that would catch your legs. You needed this lead, no matter what kind of pain you went through.

You spent what felt like hours running around. Your legs felt like they were being torn apart, your skin was burning and blistered in a lot of spots, and it was getting too hard to breathe. There was no sign of the green that you saw earlier, so you gave into your body and fell to the brick walkway under you, the rough texture stinging your skin. You closed your eyes, breathing heavily, hoping you would wake up soon. Then you heard it. The sound of feet on the pavement ahead of where you laid. Your body hurt as you lifted your head, vision going fuzzy and dark as the person neared. Green.

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