#I hope Julian still has that shirt <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[tundrafloe]

Julian: “I think that’s the original shirt I wore in the very first Mighty Boosh. It is, in fact. The very first ones we did….The very first Edinburgh shows we did, I wore that shirt.”

Noel: “It’s a great shirt.”

(Future Sailors Commentary)

[peachy-panic]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time (pt. 2)

I didn't intend to make this 3 parts, but shit happens. The boys are going through it. (Sorry for the delay, hope you enjoy).

< PREVIOUS

WARNINGS: BBU, conditioning, major panic attack, references to past noncon, brief mentions of childhood in foster care

No one moves for a full three seconds. 

It’s Julian, of all people, who breaks first. He takes a hesitant step forward, palms raised, and what the fuck does he think he’s doing.

Over Sebastian’s dead fucking body will he come any closer to Jaime, who, at the barest hint of movement flinches back, arms coming up to protect his head. A fiery rage blows through Sebastian. He moves in between them, blocking his line of sight.

“Step. Back.” The warning comes out in a voice he doesn’t recognize as his own.

Julian blinks, apparently processing a shock of his own, but stumbles back quickly enough that his shoulder hits the door. Only when he’s sure that Julian will stay put does Sebastian turn back to Jaime. 

The shaking is visible from across the room. Sebastian knows this look. He’s seen it for himself more times than he’d like to remember. Terror. This is what it looks like when Jaime is terrified. 

Suddenly they are free-falling back through time, blowing apart every inch of confidence and safety and trust Jaime has fought tooth and nail for over the course of a few months. Sebastian takes a careful step toward him. Under his breath, Jaime is whispering something on a loop, so quiet that all Sebastian can make out is a repetition of consonants. As he gets closer, the words click into place.

“Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t.”

Sebastian can’t breathe. “Jaime,” he chokes out.

Jaime breaks his stillness to shake his head, quick and frantic, keeping his eyes on the floor. “No,” he says, “No, no, my… My name isn’t… My l-legal name is among the r-rights—”

“No,” Sebastian and Ezra say at the same time, hard enough to make Jaime flinch. “Sorry,” Sebastian whispers, but he doesn’t think it comes out audible. 

Ezra drops to one knee beside, a force of preternatural calm in the midst of panic, and Sebastian follows suit, keeping his body positioned between Jaime and Julian. Behind them, he can hear Aria whispering something low and calm, but Sebastian’s sole focus is on the boy in front of him. 

“No,” Ezra repeats, softer. “Your name is Jaime. I know you must be confused, but I promise, you are not in danger.” 

Rigid as he is, Jaime somehow stiffens even further at the sound of his voice. His head snaps up, eyes locked on Ezra’s with a sudden, razor-sharp focus. 

“You have to go,” he whispers, reaching up—seemingly without thought—to grab Ezra’s shirt. There is a panic that borders on mania in his voice, in the widened whites of his eyes. “Ezra, you… You have to run, you have to—”

“I am not going anywhere,” Ezra cuts him off. He softens the firmness in his voice by reaching up to cover the hand on his chest. “This is my home. He will not hurt me, just as he will not hurt you.” He turns his shoulder just enough to gesture behind him. “This is not the Handler Hernandez you know. He is my friend.”

Confusion and terror swim in Jaime’s eyes. “Your…?” He turns to Sebastian, brimming with tears. “Your friend?” His voice is so small. Sebastian understands that he is asking them both, now. 

He swallows. “Yes.”

Something in Jaime visibly crumbles. The tears he has been holding at bay finally tip over, streaking his cheeks. “Please. What did I do?”

Sick understanding settles in. The sort of betrayal Jaime must think is happening right now. 

“You didn’t do anything,” Sebastian tells him. His own trembling hands come up to reassure him in some way, to offer the kind of soft touch that they have spent so long working up to, but he thinks better of it and lets them drop to his sides. “He is not here for you, Jaime. He will not touch you.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, kid,” Julian says from behind him, his voice soft to the point of unrecognizable. 

Sebastian shoots a glare over his shoulder when Jaime tenses at the sound of his voice, ducking his head once more.

“Jules, let’s step outside,” Aria says. 

After a moment of hesitation and a final muttered apology, the front door opens and shuts behind them. Sam, clicking off the stove burners, excuses himself as well. 

The silence left in their wake crushes down on the three of them for seconds that feel like minutes 

“He is gone,” Sebastian whispers. “Jaime, it’s just us here. You, me, and Ezra. You’re safe.”

Jaime doesn’t raise his head. His shoulders rise and fall with the telltale breathing of a freefall into panic.  He doesn’t seem to notice the steady stream of tears now joining the sweat gathered at the neckline of his shirt. “What is happening?” he whispers between pulls for air. 

“Something that never should have been sprung on you like this,” Sebastian says. “And I’m so sorry.”

“He’s…” His eyes betray him by trailing over Sebastian’s shoulder, toward the front door. “He’s not taking me?”

God. “No, Jaime. Never.”

The sound of his breathing, hitched and labored and increasing with alarming speed, is the only sound in the house. Then, abruptly, Jaime lunges to his feet. 

“I need… I’m—I’m sorry,” is all he gets out before bolting toward the hallway. They hear the bathroom door click shut, and the walls are not thick enough to mask the sound of his retching. 

 ****

It’s hard to breathe. Jaime goes through all his usual tricks—the ones WRU taught him, and the ones he has come to learn on his own—but his chest still aches with the need for a full breath that he just can’t manage to pull. 

No one has come for him yet. He doesn’t know how long it’s been. More than ten. Less than thirty? It’s a good thing, he thinks. Jaime doesn’t know if he’s ready to face them. He doesn’t know how to. 

The feeling that finds him on the bathroom floor, as he comes down from the heaving nausea, is one that Jaime hasn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. There are others, more familiar: confusion, pain, fear. But beneath that, perhaps because of it, something else simmers.

He keeps playing through the events on a loop, obsessing, trying to make sense of it, but his mind is a fractured mess of past and present, fragile trust and familiar betrayal. Because as Jaime knelt on Ezra’s living room floor, the world crashing around him, all he could think was: Is this how it ends? After months of fighting for every half-step of progress, of reaching for his last threads of fragile trust, of finding reasons to want to be a person again, had Sebastian given up on him?

No. He hasn’t. He wouldn’t. Sebastian isn’t like that.

But he doesn’t owe Jaime anything either.

Jaime has known betrayal before. Deeply, fundamentally. From foster parents he was meant to trust, teammates who were supposed to have his back, and men who pretended to be kind but who were all after the same thing. No one else had ever waited so long to show their true colors.

No. Sebastian is kind. He is not like the others.

And yet a crushing grief had fallen over him in that moment, because Jaime thought of Bella back at the house, and the last time he had scratched between her ears before they left, not knowing it would be the last time. He thought of the pineapple cheesecake in the refrigerator that they had made together three nights ago, half eaten, and wondered if Sebastian would throw it away or finish it when he’s gone. If he would feel bad about it. He thought of the clothes hanging in a closet that Jaime had finally come to think of as his own. 

He thought of a hug shared in the kitchen to the backdrop of birthday candlelight and wondered if Sebastian had already made his decision, then. 

He thought of all of this, and he wished he never had to know the taste of any of this happiness if it was only ever going to be taken from him. Because Handler Hernandez was here to take him back. And it was the end of Jaime’s world.

But then, it hadn’t been. Isn’t? He doesn’t…. Jaime doesn’t understand.

“You are not in danger,” Ezra told him. “You are safe,” Sebastian said. But Jaime doesn’t know what to believe. He found it hard to look at them in the moment (he couldn’t look at anyone, really, because a Handler entered the room, so it’s eyes down eyes down quiet quiet quiet). 

Friend, they called him. Handler Hernandez is their friend. 

He is Sebastian's friend.

And suddenly it’s hard to recall with any clarity the times he interacted with him inside the facility. Suddenly the months he spent there are a blur of faceless men in gray canvas and shock collar remotes and hands and hands and hands. Was Handler Hernandez one of them? Jaime can’t remember. Suddenly he can't tell any of them apart.

Friend. Friend. Friend.

Jaime doesn’t know how he is supposed to face them now—these people he has come to trust—with that word in their voices looping in his head. 

But a knock on the door tells him his time is up.

***

They give him time. We could all use a moment to process, Ezra wisely suggested, and so Sebastian took a seat at the bar while Ezra sank into the couch. Both of them are silent for several long minutes. Outside, Aria, Sam, and Julian must have moved far enough from the house that their voices don’t carry. 

“He was so afraid.” Sebastian is the first to speak, barely raising his voice from where his head is cradled in his hands. 

“I know,” Ezra says. 

They give him time, but Sebastian starts to worry that Jaime might be too scared to come out of his own volition, trapped in the bathroom by a self-imposed sense of shame or embarrassment or fear. 

“I’ll go,” Sebastian says, rising from his stool, but Ezra stands alongside him. 

“I’d like to speak to him as well,” he says. And although it doesn’t quite sound like he’s asking for permission, Sebastian nods anyway, silently grateful for the support. Ezra is always much better at hard conversations. 

Sebastian starts to worry when the first knock is met with silence. They don’t try again right away, but he can’t help but listen for sounds of distress. Sebastian would rather die than force open a door that Jaime has closed between them, but he will at least feel better if hears signs of life on the other side.

“Jaime?” Sebastian tips his forehead against the door, feeling the cool, wooden grain against his skin. “You don’t have to come out if you’re not ready to. I—we—Ezra and I, we just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’d like the chance to explain some things to you,” Ezra adds, keeping a step behind Sebastian. “Whenever you are ready. There is no rush.”

They wait. Sebastian glances back at Ezra, who meets him with a steady gaze that says patience. Finally, the handle clicks and the door pulls inward to reveal a disheveled Jaime. The bags under his eyes are nearly the color of bruises, and his hair tufts messily at the sides, as if he has been pulling at it. A sheen of sweat glistens at his forehead, and Sebastian clocks the way he holds onto the door frame to try and disguise his shaking. 

Guilt nearly bowls him over where he stands. 

Sebastian is glad for the flash of foresight he had to fill a glass with water before he and Ezra came to see him. He holds it out now, the condensation sweating over his fingers. 

“Here,” he says. Jaime lifts an arm robotically to take it from him, but he doesn’t take a sip, and he does not meet Sebastian’s eyes. 

“Is there anything I can get you, Jaime?” Ezra says when it’s clear Sebastian is lost for words. “Anything you need?”

Jaime stares in the direction of the glass in his hand and shakes his head. 

“Would you like to go somewhere and talk?” Ezra asks. “Sam has informed me that the others are gone now. We have the house to ourselves, just you, me, and Sebastian.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and Sebastian starts to worry about the possibility that he is in genuine shock. But then he lifts his eyes to his and a lead anchor drops in the pit of his stomach.

There is a flatness like cold steel in Jaime’s eyes, a distance that lacks any familiarity or warmth; an expression Sebastian hasn’t seen since the first day he met Jaime, alone in the exam room at the clinic, when Sebastian was nothing more than another stranger in power over him. A direct threat to his safety. 

“Wherever you’d like to go,” Jaime says to him. The implicit, resounding “sir” doesn’t need to be vocalized at the end for it to echo through the walls of the house. 

****

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[studentinpursuitofclouds]

All Flower dance and Spirit Eve's questions for Julian? If they are too much choose whichever of the two you prefer

Let's do both :D Thank you for your ask!

🌺 Flower Dance:

1. did your farmer dance with anyone in their first year?

No, everyone rejected him 🥲 Julian was not offended by this, because he was a stranger to many, and he himself did not insist on dancing. But some people's answers could be... not that harsh. It was fun for him to watch the dance of others, but for some reason an unpleasant aftertaste remained in his mouth.

2. do they like asking or being asked to dance?

Julian is open to both options, although he will politely decline if he already has a dance partner (or is already dating/married). Either way, why not, it will be fun! 😀

3. have they ever been interested in being flower queen?

In the case of Julian, he is more likely to claim the title "flowers king" 😄 ("Why? I could be a queen!"). But he's not too interested in it. Having a great time, friends and cold punch are more important to him.

4. are they confident about their dancing or do their skills meds work?

Bless his poor soul! If the movements are slow and not too difficult, then he will be an ideal dancer. Otherwise, don’t expect something enchanting from him like a split-jump or break dance. He can become more cocky and energetic while dancing (if he drinks too much punch). Though Julian started taking some dance lessons from Emily, so his dancing ability gets better and better with time.

5. do they dress up for the dance? where did they get their outfit?

I kind of wrote about this question earlier, but Julian is not too fond of wearing formal clothes, especially in late spring, when the summer heat is already approaching. Plain blue pants and a white shirt - that's all his clothes. There are a few more spring flowers in his hair (well, these flowers got there when he accidentally bonked a branch of a flowering tree in the forest, but we will pretend that this was intended 🤫).

🍁Spirit Eve:

1. what type of items does your farmer bring to their grange display? do they win the contest?

In his first year, Julian brought various only purple items: a purple fairy rose, a purple fish, a purple iridium bar, a purple crop and fruit, a purple amethyst, a purple cake, etc... Well, Julian did this for ✨aesthetics✨ 🤌 (well, mostly as a joke). But at the same time he managed to take first place. The fuck, how??????

2. what are your farmer’s favorite games to play?

Already answered this, but it's a fishing minigame! 🐠 🐟🐡

3. which game are they worst at?

Slingshot minigame. And it's not even because Julian can't shoot properly, he doesn't like slingshots in general.

4. how many tokens do they get by the time the festival is over? do they buy anything?

1000 tokens from the public display winnings, another thousand in the fishing game, and he bet all this on the wheel of fortune and won big. So its frequent amount is about 4000 tokens. Julian exchanges for those things that he wants, and gives the rest of the tokens to Jas or Vincent (and Leo, if he is already in Stardew Valley). Let the kids exchange them for some toys.

5. would your farmer set up a booth like robin or clint's? what would they display on theirs?

"Booth" - you mean that red and white tent? Then Julian will basically put his most unusual greenhouse-grown vegetables, fruits, berries or flowers there, which did not make it to the main display, but he still wanted to show his work. White strawberries, square watermelon, purple mushrooms - all that you will not see on store shelves. Everyone passing by stops and asks what it is and how you grew it, and Julian is just happy to share the story.

(I hope I translated the word "booth" correctly 😅)

[youngpettyqueen]

I hope you dont mind but I was Inspired

Garak is 90% done with the wall panel he's fiddling with when Julian suddenly grabs him by the arm.

"Someone's coming." Julian hisses, looking back down the way they came. Garak glances up, shifting his focus, and sure enough he can hear footsteps approaching. The pace is a walk, not a run, so chances are their presence here hasn't been discovered. Still, somebody is indeed coming, and they're very obvious out in the open, both of them in their fine suits.

Garak quickly pulls out the data chip he's been downloading onto and snaps the cover back over the wall panel. Julian tugs on his arm and he follows, dashing quickly down the corridor side by side with the doctor.

"This way!" Julian hisses, pulling him around a corner. Garak follows, only to pull up short, clicking a series of curses.

Dead end.

And the footsteps are getting louder.

Julian looks around quickly, eyes darting about, searching for a solution. Garak, much more prepared for this type of encounter, reaches for his phaser.

"Wait-" Julian tugs on his arm again, "I have an idea. Here." He starts pulling him over to the dead end.

"Doctor-" Garak starts to hiss, anxiously glancing back. Those footsteps are practically upon them, and the shadows in this corner may be dark, but certainly not dark enough to-

Julian positions himself with his back against the wall, and puts his hands on Garak's arms to move him in front of him. "Trust me." He whispers. Then, alarmingly, he takes Garak's hands, and settles them on his hips.

"Doc-"

"Trust," Julian presses his hands down to keep them pinned on his hips as Garak tries to withdraw, "Me." He implores him, his gaze intense.

Garak considers him for a moment. Julian clearly has a plan. He doesn't have time to explain it.

He nods his consent.

Julian grabs Garak by the sides and pulls him flush against him. Then his arms come up, wrap around Garak's neck, and he moans.

Garak flushes deep blue, his eyes widening. His grip reflexively tightens, claws digging into Julian's narrow hips as his shoulders go completely rigid. Julian completely ignores the reaction and keeps going, and Garak's pulse rockets into the sky never to return as he feels the doctor's hips buck into his thigh.

"Play along." Julian whispers, right by his ear. And then he moans again, and tangles his fingers in Garak's hair.

Garak would be impressed if he wasn't so stunned. Still, he snaps out of his shock, and ducks his face down to be right up against Julian's neck. Julian makes a couple of breathy, convincing sounds, writhing against Garak as he plays up his pleasure.

"Ah... oh..." Garak slides a hand up Julian's side, slipping underneath the jacket and shirt and cradling the bare skin underneath. Julian is so very warm, blazing hot under Garak's palm. He feels a shiver run through the doctor, and he pulls him in closer, holding him steady by one hip.

"Yes, there..." Julian gasps, "Ah... like that..."

Garak's face is so hot he wonders if he's actually caught on fire. He finds himself staring down at the soft, exposed skin of Julian's neck. He's so very close. If he ducked any closer, he could-

"They're gone," Julian whispers, drawing back all too soon. He clears his throat and gives his head a shake, then gives Garak that dazzling smile of his, "Nothing like a little PDA to make security uncomfortable." He beams.

Garak's tongue feels like it's shrivelled up and withered away in his mouth. Even so, he retracts his hands, one palm still burning like Julian's bare skin had burned him. "Yes quite," He agrees, a bit raspy in the throat, "Now, let's not waste anymore time." He redirects quickly, his head spinning far too much for someone on a mission as crucial as this.

He can only pray that he hasn't completely lost his ability to think as Julian once again takes him by the arm and pulls him back to the panel.

(The mission is successful. Garak, however, can't look Julian in the eye for 3 days.)

concept: Julian and Garak somewhere they shouldn't be. Someone is coming. Julian whispers in Garak's ear to play along and puts Garak's hands on hips. Starts moaning in his ear- quiet at first, then louder and louder. Writhes against Garak a bit. Garak bends his head down to make it look like he's necking him, tightens his grip- to sell it, of course. The footsteps pass. Whoever was too embarrassed to open the door and check in on what was going on. They part. Garak is horny gripping his nails into his palms the rest of the day.

[beanswrites]

Headcanons for characters Pt. 7: Comforting you because you feel insecure, The Main 6 from "The Arcana"

Hi everyone!

I know it's kinda unfair that I'm putting this out and writing this first when many people are waiting for their requests, but I needed to-

Not only am I, as well, having a wave of insecurity, but one of my dear followers @bluhame (I have no idea why it says that I can't tag them, but here's the link to their page https://bluhame.tumblr.com/) requested this because they have also been insecure lately. Bluhame, just so you know, you are perfect just the way you are, and we love you ♡︎

And so do these characters!

For anyone feeling insecure, or generally having bad thoughts about yourself, today's headcanons will be how The Main 6 would react and comfort you when you feel insecure. Hope you enjoy <3

masterlist | rules for requesting

Asra Alnazar ☾︎:

You were in the shop, broom in your hands as you swept the floor after a day of working. Usually, this part of your day was when you reflected on how you helped people, how you and Asra did great work together. Today wasn't like that.

A few hours earlier, some rude drunks on the street told you that you don't deserve to be Asra's apprentice. Too stupid, too messy, too clumsy, too ugly. All of the things they said circling in the back of your mind, tears started to prick in the corners of your eyes.

The insecurity you had wasn't only just because of what those men said. It was building up for some time, the glass slowly getting fuller with each bad comment or an insult you've got. Maybe they were right. Maybe those men, maybe everyone who's ever said something like that was right, and you really didn't deserve to be the great magician's apprentice, let alone his lover, and-

"MC, my star, what's wrong?"

They quickly approached you, cupping your face gently with their arms. Their thumbs were wiping your tears, while they slowly kissed your forehead over and over.

"Please, MC, talk to me... You know you can tell me anything, right?"

When he found out about your insecurity, Asra made sure to remind you, each and every day, just how important you are to him. The second the words "You could have a better apprentice, a better partner.." left your mouth, he started leaving kisses all over your face.

Asra is a simple person. To them, tea = comfort. For the insecurity you have about yourself, about your personality and habits, they are going to talk to you over and over about how much they love you, need you, and how they would never want anyone else, over a nice cup of tea.

And for the insecurity over your body? Well, he's going to lay you on the silky comforters, light up some lavender-scented candles, and kiss and caress every single inch of your body, until you believe that you are absolutely perfect.

Julian Devorak ♥︎:

Julian knows how bad doubting yourself is. Hey, he's been through it! And he would never let those thoughts show, keeping them buried 6 feet under in his heart. But you? But the perfect, smart, gorgeous, incredible you? He'd never let you feel like that. Not if he has a say in it.

He first noticed something was off when you started to refuse to wear anything that wasn't baggy or oversized, which quickly progressed into you wearing his shirts all the time.

"Ehrm, doll? Even tho I love it when you wear my shirts, and you do look incredible in them, why don't you wear your own clothes anymore?"

Maybe he could have believed that you just liked the oversized fit the first time, but it's not possible to believe it for this long. The moment he realized that you were insecure about your body was when he found you twisting and turning in the mirror with a disgusted look on your face.

"MC, darling, what's going on? Why are you doing that?"

His long arms went around your waist, bringing you down to sit in his lap. He stroked your back a few times and kissed your collarbone.

"So that is why you never wear your things anymore... How do you not realize that you are the sexiest, most gorgeous person in all of Vesuvia? I still can't believe somebody like you would even look at me, let alone love me!"

Julian would go with his fingers through your hair, kissing your lips and telling you how you are the most important thing in the world for him.

Nadia Satrinava ♔:

You usually weren't like this. Confident, bubbly, sweet and proud - that's what everybody knew you as. Everybody assumed you loved yourself, because why wouldn't you? Nadia has never seen such a flawless person, so beautiful and perfect. It's a shame you don't see yourself in the same way.

So, of course, when she found you silently crying in your room, almost stripped bare as you were only in your underwear, she was taken aback.

"MC, dear, I'm sorry for not knocking... May I come in, lovely? I want to help you, whatever it is.."

Even tho you didn't want the countess to see you like that, it was her palace after all, and you did need her love more than ever.

"Oh, precious.. Please, talk to me, what's making you feel this way?"

The truth was - everything. Your skin, your belly, your hair, your mind. Everything. Yeah, sure, there were days when you felt confident and awesome in your own body, and there were days like these, when you felt horrid and worthless.

Nadia leaned down as she sat on the bed next to you, and you've expected her to give you a kiss on the lips but, she didn't. She kissed you shoulder, over and over, murmuring into your skin how perfect you are, and how much she loves you.

"MC, you are the most stunning creature I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on!"

For the rest of the afternoon, she will take you in her arms and make sure the only thing you're concentrated on is her heartbeat. All she wants is for you to realize how much she loves you.

Muriel ❁:

You and Muriel are almost complete opposites. He's big and quiet, and you are smaller, but much more confident and louder. That never came as a problem between you two (opposites attract, after all). However, with you two being completely opposite and living together, Muriel has gotten used to a bit noise that was brought in his hut. Naturally, he got suspicious when he came home and it was completely quiet.

"MC..? Are you home..?"

His heart completely sank when he found you crying in the living room, wrapped in one of his cloaks. At first, he thought that you missed him (which.. you did, but it was more than that), but soon he realized it was the bad thoughts you had about yourself.

The mountain man didn't need any explaining. As soon as he saw your tears, he picked you up, and carried you to your bedroom, placing you on the soft furs.

As soon as you were laying on the bed, Muriel laid down next to you, wrapping himself around you. It felt as he was protecting you, comforting you.

"Are you okay?"

After you explained to him your insecurities, he was silent for a long time, thinking of how to comfort you. Suddenly, his large palms went over your hips, to your waist, to your shoulders, and you could tell he was being as gentle as possible.

About 2 hour of cuddling later, he wrapped some fur around you, and told you: "MC, you are.. You are incredible, okay? Please don't think of yourself as anything less.. Now, would you like me to make us some dinner?"

Portia Devorak ☼︎:

Since Portia herself is a very confident person, who doesn't very often doubt her body or her personality, it came to her as a surprise when she found out that you've been feeling a bit insecure lately.

When you didn't talk to her for a few days, her first thought was that you are sick, so she went to check.

"Hey MC! Can I come in please? Are you feeling well?"

She came into your room in the palace before you could even reply. You were sitting on the bed, your back turned to the door, and you didn't even reply. Portia approached you as fast as she could, but what made her stop dead in her tracks was when she realized you were crying.

"Oh my god, MC! Why are you crying? Are you mad at me? Did I do something?"

Her voice softened as she sat down next to you, placing her hand onto your lower back. Her fingers drew patterns on your back, and she lovingly kissed your cheeks as you told her about your insecurities.

"Ohh, babe, you are absolutely perfect! You are funny, cute, smart, gorgeous, and you are my everything! I love you, just the way you are, MC!"

Count Lucio/Montag Morgasson ♕︎:

Lucio has never been good with comforting. Or feelings. Or words. You know what? He just isn't that good with relationships with people, in general. But he tries.

When Montag found out that you are insecure about the way you look, he at first didn't know what to do. He even tried to joke about it! But, when he saw that there were tears pooling in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks because of his gnarly comments, regret sunk in his chest like never before.

"Fuck, MC, I- I didn't mean to- Look, I'm sorry, don't cry!"

Awkwardly, he tried to give you a hug, knowing that kind of stuff usually makes people feel better. But, when he felt you sob into his shoulder, clutching onto his blouse and basically breaking down, he understood how serious this was.

Kissing you temple, he whispered: "Babe, are you okay?"

As you shook your head no, he took you by the hand and lead you to your bedroom. You've expected him to order servants to bring you two stuff left and right, but he didn't. He left you alone in the bedroom for some time, and you've generally lost hope that he cared for you, and your feelings, at all.

But he came back, and not empty handed. He brought your favorite fruit and some chocolate, a complete full course dinner and some champagne.

"Look, MC, I feel horrible for making fun of you, so I want to show you just how perfect you are... You are divine, and I want to treat you that way. Can I?"

Bonus:

Hey, you! Yes, you! I've just talked to Faust and we have collectively agreed that YOU. ARE. PERFECT.

I believe her exact word were: "Pretty! Always! Perfect!"

And if you don't listen to a magical purple ball python who talks, who are you gonna listen to?

That would be all for today! I know I don't normally use A/N at the end of any post, but I've got a question for you.

Now I feel kind of bad that I don't respond to a request with what they requested, so should I? Should I immediately respond to your massage with the fic?? Or is it okay like this?? Can somebody pls tell me in the comments??

Also I don't know if anybody noticed or is it just me (it's probably just me 😂), but I have been getting my posts to be a little more aesthetic!

You know what they say:

When life is not aesthetic, at least the font of your writing can be!

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Distressed VI

“We’re going to have so much fun,” a voice sneers at you slowly regain consciousness.

Your head is throbbing and your eyes feel like they’re on fire. Sluggishly, you look around and realise you’re still in your living room but it’s darker. All the blinds are closed and there’s no lights on. The light allowing you to make anything out is streaming in under the front door from the hallway. You’re not sure how much time has passed but you don’t think it’s much. There’s a tall figure standing in front of you but you can’t make out too many features as their back is turned to you. You’re fairly sure it’s a man, based on the height and the deep bass of his chuckle. You can see dark brown hair, almost black, a slight bald spot at the crown of his head. He’s wearing a dark hoodie and black jeans with dirty black army boots.

You look down and can immediately feel the stinging sensation of your hands and ankles bound to one of your dining chairs with duct tape. You try your hardest to stretch the sticky vices but it’s wrapped so many times that you can’t free yourself no matter how hard you try. Your straining has alerted the stranger to your consciousness and you immediately still.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s finally awake,” he taunts. As he turns you’re finally able to make out his features.

“You,” you gasp in horror as you recognise the man from the night before. “How the hell did you find me?”

“You can call me Julian. The police did not hide your information well while they interrogated me for 5 fucking hours,” he boast mighty proud of his spying skills.

“What do you want with me?” You ask, terrified of the answer.

“To have fun, finish what we started.” He leans down so he’s level with you and you can see a mad glint in his eyes. “And this time, there’ll be no one to interrupt us. But I have some rules,” he begins to pace and you again try to stretch the tape but a violent slap against your cheek stops you as you cry out. “Rule number 1, if you try to escape I will punish you. Rule number 2, if you don’t do what I say I will punish you. Rule number 3, if you hurt me in anyway I will punish you. Finally, rule number 4, and this is more of a warning, there’s no one here to save you this time.”

Hours have passed and the anticipation of what’s to come is killing you. After being told the rules, your attacker disappeared into your bedroom and then the kitchen where he still is now. You’re fairly sure he’s testing you to see if you try to escape again. Instead, you pray to any god who will listen to help you, save you, protect you. You could hear your phone ring several times while he was in the bedroom. Every time it rang, he hung up each and every call before eventually turning it off. You’re hoping it’s Sarah who was calling because you know she’ll come and check on you if she can’t reach you through your phone but that had to have been at least 2 hours ago. You decide it’s probably best she didn’t come. You don’t want her getting hurt trying to help you.

The stranger comes back into the living room and he strokes your tender cheek as he passes. He kneels in front of you, one hand palming your left breast roughly while the other taps his chin as if in thought.

“I’m racking my brain, trying to decide what I’m going to do with you first,” Julian explains matter of factly.

Before you can respond, he tears your t-shirt, exposing your bra. He almost drools at the sight of your cleavage and you just pray in your head that this will not be the guy you lose your virginity to. While he gropes both your breasts now, he slams his lips onto your’s and begins to kiss your mouth viciously. You try to resists and he punishes you by slapping both your breasts. The pain makes you open your mouth to cry out and he takes this opportunity to stick his tongue into your mouth. You almost gag at the sheer force of his rough tongue in your mouth. He’s pushing on you so hard now that you can feel the chair leaning back under the pressure. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re anywhere but right here, in this chair, trapped with this monster. In your mind you know he won’t let you walk away from this. You mentally say your goodbyes to everyone you love and care about.

Your mind travels to Colson and you feel tears prick your eyes. You pray he won’t feel guilt about any of this. You pray he won’t be the one to find you. The creep finally pulls away from your mouth and you try to catch your breath but it’s stuck in your throat as you hold back a sob.

“I’m going to untie you now and you’re going to stand up and turn around. Do you understand?” You know your voice won’t come out if you try to speak so instead you nod. He pulls out a switchblade from his right boot and begins working at cutting through the duct tape. As he’s working, thumping knock sounds at the door and your heart stops.

Please don’t be Sarah, please don’t be Sarah. Oh god, let it be a neighbour.

“Do not say a word,” he breathes almost silently, grabbing your face roughly in one of his hands. He plants a wet sloppy kiss to your lips and you try your best not to dry heave.

He walks to the door quietly and looks out through the peephole. He doesn’t say anything and you assume he’s going to ignore it but instead, he turns to you with a menacing look in his eyes before unlocking the deadbolt. He doesn’t open the door fully, just enough to let a crack of light in. He uses his body to hide you from the stranger and you breathe as quietly as possible.

“Can I help you?” He asks gruffly but tries to hide his annoyance.

“I’m her to pick up Y/N,” the stranger has a deep voice that you don’t recognise.

“She’s busy tonight,” Julian replies and tries to close the door but it stops against something hard.

“Well, she’s got other plans. My boss told me she’d be ready at 8, it’s now 8:30 and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

You look out the window and realise the sun has completely disappeared and is replaced by darkness and the slight glow of a moon. You finally connect that this must be Colson’s bodyguard coming to collect you for the concert. Has he told Colson you’re late? Is that why he’s now standing at your door a mere 5 feet away from you? You feel the loosened tape on your ankles and begin straining to try and stretch it out.

“You can tell your boss that Y/N doesn’t care that he’s waiting. She’s not coming to see him tonight. She’s busy with me and only me for the evening.”

Something about the way Julian speaks must spark something in the bodyguard because you can see him strain himself, not hard considering how tall he is, to see over the top of Julian’s head and his eyes make contact with yours.

“What the fuck?”

He pushes through Julian as if he is nothing but a feather, flinging him to the ground. The switchblade falls out of Julian’s back pocket and the bodyguard kicks it away. Before Julian has a chance to compose himself, the tall brooding man lands a hard blow into his stomach with his boot and Julian grunts and then remains unmoved on the floor, curled into a ball.

“Are you ok?” The bodyguard beelines over to you and his large hands make little work at removing all the tape. “I’m Spencer. You go downstairs and wait in the black Audi for me. I’m going to call the cops.”

You nod but your feet stay frozen as Julian sluggishly climbs to his feet and heads straight for Spencer. He spear tackles him to the ground into your coffee table, splintering the wood. Catching him by surprise, Julian has the upper hand and when he gets up on top of Spencer, he begins to lay punch after punch into him. You can’t tell what’s going on exactly as it’s just a mad frenzy of limbs but you’re fairly sure a lot of Julian’s blows are landing. You stand completely frozen but your mind is screaming at you to do something, anything. You look around helplessly and spot your dining room chair in the middle of the room. You pick it up and swing it over the top of Julian, causing him to buckle under the blow. Spencer quickly regains himself and gets up on top of Julian. In the mad scurry, neither you or Spencer had noticed that Julian had found his switchblade until he plunges it into the left side of Spencer, causing him to cry out in pain. Julian is able to easily remove Spencer’s large frame off him and shove him to the side. His eyes glint at you and your body stiffens in pure terror.

“That wasn’t very nice, darling,” Julian snarls at you and slight yelp escapes between your lips.

He grabs you by a large scruff of your hair and drags you to your bedroom, shutting the front door closed on his way. You try to stop yourself but it just makes him pull harder on your hair. Your begging doesn’t nothing to placate him. He slams you onto the bed, his switchblade, now covered in Spencer’s blood, still in his hand. He cuts your already torn t-shirt and jabs the blade into your chest, just enough to make it hurt but not enough to fully break through your skin.

“Remember my rules,” is all he says as he runs the blade over your skin.

He makes it all the way down to your jeans and he uses the blade to slit through the material. He drags them down your legs and rips them off you in a frenzy. You lie their terrified as his eyes rake over your body. He licks his lips and just as he’s about to take off your Pattie’s, someone yanks him by his neck and flings him off you. Your eyes connect with angry, piercing blue eyes and a strange calm washes over you. Colson.

[fruitcoops]

I love your babysitting jules fic and the tell me how you know your boyfriend won't cheat on you fic. I was thinking, like remus and sirius have a day off and spend it with jules, and sirius goes somewhere and comes back to find remus and jules sleeping on the flour and they look similar and he just smiles.

Idk, hope this makes sense, I love all your fics.

It totally makes sense and it’s super cute! Thanks for such a wonderful suggestion <3 This is Part 4 of Adventures in Babysitting (1 2 3)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

As much as Sirius loved hockey, he had to admit break days were his favorite part of the week. Most weekends, he and Remus would roll out of bed sometime around eleven, have lunch, go for a walk, and then turn into total couch potatoes if they didn’t have anything important to do.

But they had a kid now, so that plan had to change.

They managed to stay in bed until nine before soft rustling sounds began in Jules’ room—Remus’ aggressive cuddling delayed them for a bit longer, which Sirius did not have any complaints about, but eventually they knew it was time to move.

“Dinner’s at six, right?” Sirius asked as he washed his face while Remus tracked down a t-shirt. Shirtless mornings were another tragic sacrifice while Jules was around.

“Yep. Dumo said we could get there at five-thirty, though. Apparently, Katie’s been dying to see Jules again.” Remus kissed the back of his shoulder as he reached for a toothbrush. “I was thinking we could just let him choose what we do today.”

“Makes it a lot easier on us.”

“And it makes it extra special for him,” Remus mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “We still get veto power, though.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Jules was still in his bedroom when they went downstairs and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if they had woken up early for nothing. “He’ll be down soon,” Remus said as if he could read his mind, pressing two coffee cups into Sirius’ hands. “All those cool knickknacks in the guest room will keep him distracted for a bit.”

Sure enough, excited footsteps followed a sharp gasp less than ten minutes later. Remus smiled over the rim of his coffee cup and walked over to the pantry to pull out the pancake mix. “Morning—"

“Is it true you won the regional All-Stars when you were in high school?” Jules blurted as he skidded into the kitchen and shoved a small trophy into Sirius’ hands, panting like he had run a mile.

Sirius squinted down at the little figurine; in all honesty, he had forgotten he even had it. “Where did you find this?”

“In the nightstand. Is it true?”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He set it on the counter with their other random items. “Thanks for finding it, bud.”

Jules glowed under his approval and Remus bit his lip to stifle laughter. “Re, can we have chocolate pancakes?”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips, sorry,” Remus said as he mixed the batter. Liar. Sirius shot him a look, and he stuck out his tongue playfully behind Jules’ back. “We’ve got some fun news, though.”

“What?”

“There’s no practice today and you get to decide what we do.”

Jules’ jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome! Mom and Dad never want to see the cool stuff because they’re busy with museums and games and friends but there are so many places I wanna go,” Jules said in one rushing breath. Sirius blinked in shock, but Remus seemed unfazed as he handed the spatula over. “Thanks!”

“Sure thing.”

“Sirius, what are your favorite places?” Jules turned to him, still licking the spatula like his life depended on it.

Sirius took a moment to think and suppress a smile. “I like the roller rink, and the aquarium, and the park.”

“We already went to the park.”

“We can go again if you want,” he laughed. “You made friends, right?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t see them again.” Oh, to have a child’s nonchalance when it comes to friends. “The aquarium sounds really neat!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Remus agreed as he ladled out batter into the pan. “They put in a new exhibit recently.”

“Sweet! Can we go now?”

“Don’t you want pancakes?” Sirius asked. “I know I do.”

Jules nodded rapidly. “I do, too. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Now?”

“At the aquarium.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How tall are you?”

Sirius paused, then gave him a conspiratorial look. “Eleven feet tall.”

Remus burst out laughing and nearly burned himself on the pan; Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m ten, that doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sirius took a sip of coffee. “I’m 191 centimeters tall.”

“Huh?”

“Almost two meters.”

Jules looked over to Remus, who shook his head with a smile. “He’s six foot three, Jules, and he’s messing with you by being fancy and Canadian.”

“How tall are you?” Jules asked, folding his knees under himself to reach the butter with his fork as Remus passed him a plate of pancakes.

Remus sighed. “Five foot eleven and a half.”

“Ha! Short.”

“Shut up, you’re still an Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m more than a foot taller than Oompa Loopmas,” Jules said haughtily, shoveling pancake into his mouth. “I looked it up the last time you called me that.”

“Look at you go! Gold star!”

Sirius cheeks were starting to hurt from holding down his laughter and Remus winked as he passed another plate over. “Thanks, love.”

“Why do couples have nicknames?” Jules asked. “I always thought it was a little weird. Mom and Dad have actual names, but they never really use them. It’s always honey, darling, other sappy stuff.”

Remus shrugged as he sat down with them. “Why do you call me Re? That’s not my full name.”

Jules thought for a second. “Partly because ‘Remus’ sounds like a stuffy old museum name.”

“Oh, and ‘Julian’ doesn’t?” Remus teased. “Usually, people give nicknames because they care about each other. Couples just have an extra level to that.”

“I don’t really like it when people call me by my full name, either,” Sirius added.

Jules frowned. “But people call you by your first name all the time.”

“They do. But my friends usually don’t. There’s Cap, Padfoot, whatever your brother comes up with that day…”

“I call you Sirius.”

“I don’t mind as much when you say it.” Because you’re adorable and I would literally do anything for you. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Jules seemed satisfied by that answer and turned back to his pancakes; Sirius caught Remus quickly looking away when he glanced back up and smiled, giving him a quick nudge with his foot. Baby, Remus mouthed with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

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

The aquarium was busy, but it was a weekend, after all. They only had to wait in line for ten minutes; during that time, Jules made three new friends and every single one of the parents thought he was their son. Even the ticket salesman offered them a family discount that Remus politely declined.

But…it wasn’t a bad thought. Sirius let it ruminate in the back of his mind as he helped Jules onto his shoulders and Remus grabbed a map from the kiosk for when they inevitably got turned around. Definitely not this year, or the next, but someday Sirius did want to say ‘yes’ to the parents and kids discount, though he couldn’t place his finger on why.

And then they reached the whale exhibit. A huge humpback skeleton hung from the ceiling in a smooth curve, its mouth open to reveal perfectly preserved baleen. Jules reached up and trailed his fingers through the space below its massive ribcage—he was too short to touch it still, but the pure awe on his face took Sirius’ breath away more than any deep-sea creature could.

“Baby, can you get a picture of us by the glass?” Remus asked. Ahead of them, a huge tank stretched into a tunnel that lead to the tropical exhibit; Sirius nodded and bent to let Jules down.

“Race you there!” he called, running across the well-worn blue carpet at full tilt. Remus followed him with a laugh and caught him just before they reached the glass, swinging him off his feet by the armpits and turning to face Sirius.

His throat tightened a bit as he took his phone out for the picture. They beamed at him with almost-identical smiles, right down to the dimples. That. That right there, he thought. That’s what I want. “Got it.”

“Awesome, your turn.” Remus put Jules down and began walking over, but an older man motioned to Sirius just before he put his phone away.

“Excuse me, would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?” he asked. A little girl—his granddaughter, perhaps—watched them shyly from behind his legs.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Sirius handed him his cell phone and went over to the glass, wrapping one arm around Remus’ waist and draping the other over Jules’ shoulder. They smiled, backlit with blues and greens and aquamarine.

“Alright, I took a few.” The man gave Sirius’ phone back and patted him on the arm as the little girl tugged his sleeve. “You have a beautiful family. Have a good day!”

Sirius didn’t fully snap out of his daze until they were in the tropical tunnel, where fish in colors he could never dream of darted back and forth and fascinated Jules. The aquarium used to be his favorite place in Gryffindor; now, it was probably his favorite place in the world.

Remus led them through a series of corridors, pausing every now and then when Jules scampered toward the next tank, though he seemed to have something on his mind. When Sirius shot him a questioning look, he kissed his cheek and held his hand instead of answering. They wandered past the sting rays, the turtles, and the sharks, until Sirius recognized the multicolored lights from the next room over and stopped in his tracks. “No.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah.”

Jules looked between them in clear confusion. “What?”

“I gotta show you something, c’mere.” Sirius crouched down and helped him back onto his shoulders, then ducked into the adjacent exhibit. Immediately, he heard Jules gasp as jellyfish surrounded them.

“Woah.”

“Isn’t it cool?” His smile was staring to hurt his cheeks. “Here, this in my favorite part.”

Sirius walked to the twelve-foot arch near the middle of the room and stood beneath it, basking in the warmth of the bright lights below as jellyfish of a billion sizes floated overhead. He sighed and leaned his head back slightly to get a better look.

Jules stretched his arms up, trying to touch the glass. “Wow,” he breathed.

When Sirius looked back down, he saw Remus lowering his phone with a small smile. “Had to get a good one,” he said as he stepped under the arch with them and leaned into Sirius’ side. Jules reached down and flipped his baseball cap backwards. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”

“Good to know,” Remus laughed. “Ready to move on?”

“Just a second,” Sirius said, pulling Remus’ arm around his waist. “Just a bit longer. We’ve got nowhere to be but here.”

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

They did, in fact, have somewhere to be, though Sirius didn’t remember that until 3:30 pm. He also remembered that they were supposed to bring dessert that night and unless Remus wanted to out himself as a liar by busting out the chocolate chips in the cupboard, they needed a plan B.

The grocery store was blessedly empty when he arrived, which meant he could use self-checkout for the two containers of cookies he bought—thank god. As much fun as the aquarium was, there were so many people, and they were everywhere.

I need a nap, he thought as he walked back out to the car and watched his breath steam in the December air. And, like, half an hour by myself to listen to music.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was quiet. Hattie didn’t bark when he got out of the car, or when he unlocked the front door, or called out a hesitant “hello?” while he took his shoes off. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the fact that Jules had been bouncing off the walls when he left.

The living room held the answers to all his questions. Hattie was passed out on the couch, splayed with her belly to the ceiling. Jules and Remus were asleep on the carpet with The Fellowship of the Ring between them; clearly, they had been mid-chapter when they dozed off. Sirius set the cookies on the counter and carefully slid the book out of Remus’ hands, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the thick knitted blanket off the couch.

Hattie grumbled at him and cracked an eye open. “Shhh,” he said softly, kissing her forehead before laying the blanket over the other two. They looked so alike—their hair was nearly the same shade, and Jules’ jaw was only slightly narrower than Remus’. Sirius bet that in ten years, it would be hard to tell them apart in photos.

He crept upstairs and set a timer for 4:30. James had recommended a new band ten minutes before midnight, and Sirius figured he should at least give it a shot if it was so important. He grabbed his headphones, pressed play, and let out a deep breath as he sank back into the pillows.

Half an hour went by too fast, and before he knew it the alarm was ringing instead of the steady bass of the new song. He squinted at the clock, praying it would be wrong, and sighed when he saw that technology had won out once again.

Remus and Jules were still asleep on the floor, though they had cuddled closer at some point and the blanket nearly covered Jules entirely. Sirius crouched down next to Remus and brushed his hair off his forehead before gently shaking his shoulder. “Re. Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Remus murmured.

“Come on, mon loup, dinner’s in an hour.”

“ ‘m tired. C’mere.”

“I would love to, but we promised Dumo we’d be there.”

“Sirius?” Jules blinked up at him sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.”

“We hafta get up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus said without opening his eyes.

“Love you, too,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I got cookies.”

“Cookies?” Jules sat up fully at that and rubbed his eyes; Remus groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Technically, they’re for after dinner, but an exception can be made.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then sighed and held his hands up as Jules hurried into the kitchen. “Alright, fine.”

Sirius pulled him to his feet and kissed his forehead. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we need to head out, okay?”

“So we could’ve napped for thirty more.”

“You could, but then you’d both be cranky.” Sirius leaned back to look into the kitchen. “Just one, Jules! Save some for Katie and the others!”

There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and leaned his forehead against his chest, nuzzling into his sweatshirt. “You’re so soft. And warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Perfect place to take a nap.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sirius carefully detached Remus’ grip and he exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for picking up cookies, baby. Was there anything else we needed to bring?”

“Just ourselves.” He placed another kiss to his cheek and Remus stretched his arms over his head.

“Oof. Okay. I’ll go get a different shirt on and wrangle the kid if you want to find a plate to pretend the cookies are ours.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius said, earning himself a proper kiss before Remus turned and headed into the kitchen.

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

They pulled into Dumo’s driveway at 5:40, which wasn’t bad, all things considered. Jules and Katie disappeared in a hurricane of excited rambling as soon as the door opened and Dumo burst out laughing the second he saw them. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said, pulling them each in for a hug. “How are you liking your free trial?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted in my life.” Remus shook his head as he took his coat off. “But I love it, for some reason.”

“That sums it up.” Celeste stood on her tiptoes to kiss each of Sirius’ cheeks. “Did you bring dessert?” He wordlessly held the plate out and she raised an eyebrow. “You remembered at…4 pm.”

“3:30.”

“You’re getting better, mon fils. Marc, Adele, come set the table!” Upstairs, two different sets of footsteps tumbled over each other as they came running down the stairs; both crashed into Sirius for hugs, just like they had when he first moved in.

“Bonjour,” he laughed, squeezing them tight and planting kisses to the tops of their heads. “I hope Regulus hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

“I think he’s still asleep,” Adele said as she stepped back. Celeste shooed them both toward the dining room as Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” Dumo and Remus wandered off to supervise the kids while Sirius headed for the basement door. Regulus was nearly twenty years old—it wasn’t like he needed those blankets at six in the evening, anyway, and Sirius was only too happy to give him a rousing wake-up call. It was his right as an older brother. 

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: I’ll Try Anything Once

A/N: Hi guys! So this sort of feels like a filler chapter, but I hope you still all enjoy it :) And ps...this chapter is based on I’ll Try Anything Once by Julian Casablancas (it’s derived from one of the Strokes’ demos I think)

Summary: You and Neil land in London to some majorly unfortunate circumstances that are too overwhelming for you to handle, but Neil is done letting you get hurt. 

Warnings: Death, guns, gunshot wounds, explosions, violence/murder (implied more or less), cursing, minor angst maybe, and yay fluff!

Word Count: 4,191

“Hey,” A voice whispers softly; the familiar sound encourages you to lift your eyelids. “(Y/N), we’re about to land,” The voice whispers again as you feel yourself slowly rocking back and forth. You groggily open your eyes. 

The cabin of the plane is dark except for a few scattered overhead reading lights. You notice that your head is still resting against Neil’s chest as his warm hold envelopes you, keeping you pressed tightly against him. A tickle twitches in your stomach as you feel the plane drop down closer to the ground. The tickle quickly turns to terror as you remember where you’re headed. You feel your heart rapidly beat in your chest. You take a deep breath, hoping to suppress your paralyzing fears of being back out in the field. 

Neil’s calming voice grounds you. “Are you alright?” He asks, his arms tightening around you. The airplane drops some more, causing the tickle in your stomach to continue. 

“I’m not sure,” You respond honestly as you try and swallow your fear in your throat. Of course, it doesn’t work. The airplane drops again, and you pull slightly away from Neil to look out the window. Lights twinkle below you, and you can see Heathrow Airport in the near distance. 

The seat creaks a bit as Neil moves closer to you. His cheek brushes up against yours as he peers out the window. His closeness was comforting. 

Neil sighs. “I know you don’t want to be here, (Y/N),” Neil says as his right arm wraps around your shoulders again, stealing your attention away from the lights of the towns below.  “But it’s going to be okay. We’ll get in, get what we need, get rid of who we don’t, and get out.” He shoots a smirk in your direction.

The plane grows even closer to the ground but the tickles disappear, and nausea fills your stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick,” You complain. Anxiety courses through your veins, worsening your current state. 

Neil, with his arm still around your shoulders, shakes his head and pulls you away from the window. “You’re not throwing up here,” He says, chuckling a bit. “Or I’ll be doubled over with you.” You find yourself laughing too, but it’s no surprise. That’s simply what Neil does to you. He makes everything seem like it could be…

Okay. 

You were too wrapped up in thoughts of Neil to notice when the wheels of the plane came crashing on the ground. The sound of skid marks screeching against the tarmac gave way for the anxiety to settle back down into your stomach. You shudder, imagining all the things that could go wrong. All the stupid little things that could go horribly, horribly wrong.

You watch as everyone begins to stand up from their seats, walking out into the aisle and grabbing their things from the overhead compartments. Neil gives you a final squeeze before letting go and following suit with the rest of the people on the plane. You look back out the window for a second, contemplating whether or not being in Tenet is worth it at all. There’s so much danger, so much death, so much fear. 

And my own father is the enemy, You think. 

“Are you ready, love?” Neil calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You shrug and stand up from the seat, hunching over ever so slightly as to not smack your head against the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ll ever be, so I might as well just jump without looking, right?” 

Neil smiles sadly, almost as if to apologize. “Then I’ll be ready for you, and I’ll catch you when you fall.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest at his reassurance, despite the sardonic nature of your comment. “Neil I-,” You say, carefully stepping out into the aisle. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Don’t thank me,” Neil starts, seemingly minimizing his ability to change your entire mood. “This is what friends are for.”

Right, friends. 

Neil guides you out of the plane and onto the bridge. After a short walk, you enter the airport. 

It’s a ghost town. Some people are sleeping, slumped over in uncomfortable, stiff chairs waiting for their flight. You had forgotten that the time had changed. You look down at your phone to see that your New York time zone has already been switched to London’s. 

3:56 AM

It only takes a few shuffles out to the main concourse for you to recognize how exhausted you are in spite of your ability to sleep on the plane. After all, that had been the most sleep you had gotten since the…accident. 

You and Neil walk in silence for a while. It isn’t an awkward silence. It’s the comfortable, relaxing kind. It’s the kind of silence shared by two people who don’t need to talk to share how much they enjoy the other’s company. You take in all the shops and food stores as an attempt to keep yourself distracted from the terror of the mission. 

You step onto an escalator, and your attention finally lands on Neil’s face. You had studied it a million times, as odd as that sounds, but you couldn’t help it. You liked looking at him. You liked getting confirmation that he was in fact real and was in fact with you. 

“Hey,” You finally speak up. “Aren’t we in your hometown now?”

You watch as Neil’s cheeks lift and the corners of his mouth turn up. “Yeah,” He says back. “I guess we are.” His eyes rest on yours for a second before they flicker down to your lips. It catches you off guard, but the moment is gone just as soon as it begins as you’re forced to step off the escalator. You enter the baggage claim area and head straight towards the exit of the airport. 

Conveniently waiting outside the doors is a black town car. You look to Neil, making sure it’s the right one. Neil nods, silently confirming that this is a part of the plan. You open the door and plop onto the seat. You hear Neil open and close the trunk before he takes his spot next to you in the car. 

“We live in a twilight world,” Neil says. But there’s no answer. 

You clear your throat nervously, reaching underneath your black, baggy, menswear dress pants, clutching onto the small revolver tied against your calf. “He said, we live in a twilight world.” 

There’s no answer again. You take the revolver out, aiming it at the man. You look over at Neil and notice that his shirt is undone; he had already taken his gun out. He always kept it under his shirt, attached to his chest. He hunches over, slowly moving towards the man through the center console. 

The man’s hat is titled over his forehead. Neil takes it off. 

Neil parts his lips. “Fuck,” His voice is shallow. “He’s dead. He’s got a bullet in the center of his forehead,” There’s a panic in Neil’s voice.  He looks up to the windshield, and you follow his gaze. There’s no point of entry, no shattered glass. 

“So someone else has already been here,” You remark. Neil’s eyes widen as he moves the man’s shirt over a bit. 

That’s when the light beeping noise starts. 

“SHIT!” Neil screams. “Get out of the car! NOW!” He opens the door on your side of the car and practically shoves you out. You stumble, barely able to catch your balance when your feet hit the ground. Neil sprints to the trunk, opening it up and grabbing the luggage. 

You follow behind him, tugging on his arm, trying to pull him away. “The luggage, really?” You shout in disbelief. 

Neil secures both bags in his right hand, and grabs your wrist with his left. You both break out into a sprint. “We need to take cover,” Neil says in between breaths, his eyes frantically searching around the taxi area. “Do you see-,”

BOOM!

“FUCK!” Neil yells, practically tripping over his feet as the concrete vibrates violently below. He catches his balance just before he can face plant into the ground.

The car explodes behind you. The heat of the flames radiate on your back. You don’t dare look behind you; you keep running. 

You and Neil finally reach a parking lot, and stop for a break.

“What the hell was that?” You whisper, angrily grabbing Neil by the collar and bringing him in between two minivans for cover, just in case anyone had followed you or was planning to attack. 

Neil grabs your waist in return, brining you even closer to him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you realize how close you are to him. “They must know we’re here,” Neil says. His eyes are still wide and his breathing is still heavy. 

“And the suitcases?” You question with heavy concern, and even frustration, in your voice. “Do you not have firefighters come into your elementary schools in England? Do you not get taught that stuff can be replaced and human beings can’t be?” Your whisper turns into more of an angry shout. 

Neil shakes his head in disapproval. “There are explosives in my suitcase, (Y/N). If they detonated we would be dead,” He says, panic still evident in his voice, and a bit of anger as well. 

You nod, loosening your grip on his collar. “I’m sorry I just,” You pause, knowing full well what had just come over you. “I just didn’t want anything to happen to you, that’s all.” You feel your eyes becoming glossy. This was the very thing you were afraid of. You were almost blown to bits, and worse than that, Neil could’ve died. The mission was already failing, and it hadn’t even truly started yet.

You shut your eyes tightly, and a few tears roll down your cheeks.

Neil swallows hard, his arms still resting on your waist. “No, I’m sorry. You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that.” Neil pulls you into an embrace. 

“It’s okay,” You mumble quietly into his chest.

You let him hold you in silence for a few moments. You needed to process things. You needed to ground yourself. You needed this second with Neil. 

You feel yourself dozing off a bit in Neil’s arms. Visions of a bed with a plush comforter and satin sheets play over in your head. It had to be almost 4:30 in the morning at this point. 

“How are we going to get to the hotel?” You ask, longing for a good night’s sleep. “And what if they know what hotel we’re staying in?”

Neil pulls apart from you and reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. “I’ll call TP and figure out what we’re supposed to do.” Neil types in his passcode, presses on the screen a few times, and lifts his phone up to his ear. 

You look up into the night sky to distract yourself. The stars twinkle lightly, but there’s too much light pollution to get a good look. The cold wind nips at you roughly. You turn to face Neil. He’s pacing back and forth about twenty feet away from you. You try and tune into what he’s saying.

“They fucking know we’re here, what am I supposed to do?” The frustration in his voice is clear. He waits for a response. 

“Yeah, she’s alright I guess, but you shouldn’t have forced her out into the field this early,” He pauses again. “No I don’t care that you’re the boss, she wasn’t ready when she left this afternoon and she definitely isn’t ready now!”

Silence, and then another sentence. “No, I’m not letting my feelings get in the way, that’s not what this is.”

Feelings? 

“I mean of course it’s because I care about her, you know how I feel…” He trails off, and walks a bit farther away from you. What he says next, you can’t hear.

After a few seconds, he starts to walk back, still keeping a bit of a distance. “Alright, we’ll head over there now,” Neil looks up at you and winks, confirming that there’s some sort of plan set in place. 

Neil turns his back to you. “And I swear to God,” He whispers, thinking you can’t hear him, “If she dies, I’m going to kill you.” 

A shiver rolls down your spine at his words. You knew Neil cared about you, but you didn’t know he would threaten TP for you, even if it was just a sarcastic threat.

But this wasn’t a joke.  

“Yeah okay. Thanks,” Neil says finally. “Talk to you later.” He takes the phone away from his ear and presses the red button to hang up. He walks back over to you. You’re still overwhelmed by what Neil had said on the phone, but you push those thoughts to the back of your head.

You yawn listlessly. “So what’s going to happen?” You ask, ready to crash to the ground in exhaustion. 

Neil smiles. He picks up the luggage in his right hand again, and points to the other side of the parking lot. You notice a separate lot filled with rental cars. “TP put in a favor and we’re getting our own car. Looks like you’ll have to deal with my driving.” 

You can’t help but smile back at him. You didn’t mind Neil’s driving at all, to be honest. You felt safe when Neil drove. But then again, you felt safe with Neil no matter what he did. 

“It’s just on the other side of the lot,” Neil reassures. You roll your eyes at the thought of more walking, but you figured it may be a good time to talk about what you had just heard Neil say on the phone. 

Before you can think of something to say, Neil loops his left arm around your waist. His fingers settle on the exposed skin underneath your oversized blazer. Your nerves tingle underneath his touch, and any thoughts you had before disappear from your mind. 

After a few seconds, you force yourself to think back to the phone call. “Neil? Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” Neil says back, smiling down at you. 

“The phone call you just had, with TP,” You pause, trying to find the right words.

Neil shakes his head. “Whatever you heard, don’t worry about it, please. I know what I’m doing,” He pauses and pulls you closer to him. "You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright. ” You’re not entirely content with his answer, but it’s enough for now. 

After a five minute walk, you finally reach the rental lot. Neil walks over to the man inside of the tiny cube shaped building. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but a set of keys are exchanged, and Neil motions for you to follow him. You begrudgingly pick up your pace to catch up with him.

“What kind of car is it?” You ask. Neil presses the panic button once, and the headlights of a black, Porsche 911 flash across your face. 

You go to get into the car, approaching the door on your left hand side, forgetting you’re now in Europe. Neil smirks at you, grabs your hand, and brings you to the other side of the car. He sets the luggage down on the ground, and opens your door, letting you slip inside. Normally, you would have a cheeky response to Neil opening the door for you, but you were too tired now. Neil grabs the luggage, and walks around the other side of the car. He opens his door and puts the luggage in the back seat. 

Neil puts the key into the ignition and starts the car. He takes out his phone, and through your blurry vision, you watch as he slides his finger around. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. Your voice is barely above a whisper and it’s filled with tiredness. “Just drive,” You order sarcastically, nudging Neil with your elbow.  Your sarcasm melts away when you remember the gravity of the situation. “What if they’re already here? What if they’re looking for us?” 

Neil puts his phone in the cupholder, and rests his hand on your thigh. “I’m just setting up the GPS and choosing some music, love,” Neil says. “Take a deep breath. TP just arranged for us to stay at a different hotel, and he has eyes and ears everywhere. We’ll be alright.”

Ten decisions shape your life,

You’ll be aware of 5 about,

7 ways to go to school,

Either you’re noticed or left out.

“I love this song,” You say, struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“I know,” Neil says. “Try to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” His voice is calming, and you almost do as he says, but you remember where you are. You wanted to look at the city. You wanted to see it before all the chaos began. You had been to London plenty of times before, but leaving the United States still excited you, even though you were rarely there at all anymore.

When I said "I can see me in your eyes,”

You said "I can see you in my pants,”

That's not just friendship that's romance too.

You like music we can dance to.

The highway goes on for a while, looking reminiscent of highways in America. Grass and trees line the black concrete. There’s no light save for a few street lamps. Each time you start to doze off, you force yourself to wake up. The feeling of Neil’s thumb drawing circles on your thigh doesn’t make it too hard. 

Sit me down,

Shut me up,

I'll calm down,

And I'll get along with you.

The trees melt into industrial areas. Car dealerships, stores, apartments, hotels. And finally, after a few more minutes, you’ve hit Central London. The lights are bright and the buildings are beautiful. 

Don't don't don't don't it's not safe no more,

I've got to see you one more time.

Neil pulls into a parking garage and finds an open spot. “We’re here,” He says, squeezing your thigh lightly. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, carefully open the door, and slide out of the car. Neil grabs the two duffle bags and gets out after you. You head inside the hotel, and Neil checks in. He grabs the keycard and ushers you into the elevator. 

The second you enter the lift, worry fills Neil’s face. His brows furrow and he shuts his eyes as he lets his head hit the wall behind him. 

“Neil?” You ask. “What’s going on?” Maybe it was the jet lag, or maybe it was the exhaustion, but you feel more confident than usual. You step towards him and grab his hands in yours.

Neil takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry we’re here,” He says, his eyes still closed, as if he’s too guilty to face you. “I didn’t want to do the mission yet. I really wanted to wait. I know you aren’t ready yet. I just-,” 

You wrap your arms around Neil, and hold him tightly against your body. “I’ll be alright Neil, I promise.” His arms wrap around your body in response. You pull away from him slightly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You look up into his eyes, down to his lips, and back into his eyes again. Neil brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath against your lips. 

“(Y/N), I need to-,” 

The conversation is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator and the giggles of a drunken couple as they step inside. 

The woman speaks up. “Sssorry for interrupting, loves,” She slurs, cackling a bit. Her boyfriend joins in and cackles with her. Neil politely smiles and nods. He picks up the luggage yet again with one hand, grabbing your wrist with the other. He pulls you outside the elevator and into the hallway. 

Your heart is still beating wildly in your chest. “Neil, you had something you needed to say?”

But the moment is over. He shakes his head. “We can talk about it some other time, I don’t want to overwhelm you. Enough has happened tonight.” Your heart sinks in your chest. Neil swallows, glancing back over towards the elevator. “And those people seemed off. We should really get inside the room.” You nod, agreeing, and allow Neil to take hold of your hand and guide you down the hall to the suite.  

You finally approach the room. 

505. 

���This is us,” Neil says, setting the luggage on the ground to swipe the keycard. The door unlocks, and Neil press down on the handle. You enter the dully lit room, and immediately flop onto the king bed. Neil smirks at you from the doorway. 

He walks inside, and you sigh in relief. “This is so nice,” You murmur, sliding your black converse off your feet. You push yourself further onto the bed so that your head rests on a pillow. 

“We should probably shower,” Neil says, crossing the room. He places the duffle bags on the desk by the window. He takes his suit jacket off. 

You chuckle. “What, like, together?” You erupt into laughter. There was something about being so unbelievably tired and jet lagged that made you a completely different person. It was like being drunk. 

Neil shakes his head and smiles widely. “If that’s what you want,” He retorts.

Oh? Is he flirting with me? He can’t be.

“I-I think I’m t-too tired for a shower a-at all,” You stutter, not sure what else to say. 

“Me too,” Neil says. He begins to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt one by one. Suddenly, his chest is completely exposed. You feel heat rising to your cheeks. 

He undoes his belt, unzips his fly, and steps out of his trousers. He’s only wearing his boxers now. You had seen him like this a million times, but it still caught you by surprise. He walks over to the other side of the bed, grabs a pillow, and drops it on the ground. He grabs the throw blanket at the edge of the bed and drops it on the ground as well.

You furrow your brows, confused by his actions. “What are you doing?” You ask. 

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. “Setting up camp,” He jokes, sending a smile your way.

You breathe deeply, still riding out on the confidence that being sleep deprived gave you. “Why don’t you sleep in the bed with me?” 

Neil inhales sharply. “I don’t want to bother you. You’re exhausted.”

“I think I’d sleep better if you were with me, actually.” You let the words come right out, no regrets. “You make me feel safe, Neil,” You confess. 

Neil smiles and bends down, grabbing the pillow and the blanket, placing them back on the bed. He lifts the covers and slides in. You get underneath the covers too. You don’t realize how close you are to Neil until you turn onto your side to face him. 

“I’m glad I make you feel safe, (Y/N),” Neil finally responds. Your heart feels like it might burst. You and Neil had shared a bed in the past, but you had only ever been this close inside of one a handful of times before. “You have no idea how much I care about you.”

“You have no idea how much I care about you, Neil,” You say. 

Neil pushes himself up a bit, and presses a kiss against your forehead. You’re stunned. “Goodnight, (Y/N),” Neil says, and he reaches over to turn off the lamp next to his nightstand. The room goes pitch black. 

“Goodnight, Neil,” You say. Neil turns over to the other side and you do the same. You stay like that for a few minutes, before tossing and turning a few times. Seconds ago you were comfortable, and now you weren’t. 

As you laid alone in your thoughts, your anxieties all began to flood back to you. How the fuck am I going to do this? How is this mission going to turn out? This is going to be absolutely impossible. What if something happens to Neil? Your mind races with thoughts. You turn a few more times before you feel a hand on your waist. 

“I thought you were exhausted,” Neil snickers. 

“I am but-,”

Neil cuts you off. “But that doesn’t stop your mind from racing?” 

You turn around to face him. “Unfortunately, no.”

Neil wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into his bare chest. “Is this okay?” He asks. 

“Y-yes,” You stutter, pressing your face into the center of his chest. 

And finally, for the first night in over a month, you were able to sleep, nightmare free. 

So why not try it all,

If you only remember it once?

Sit me down,

Shut me up,

I'll calm down,

And I'll get along with you.

>>>>>Chapter 3

[lilyharvord]

Omg describe the parent trap au pls I'm begging you

AH! Okay! I've got five requests... means I have to do it XDDD

(bear in mind I had this idea before broken throne came out and we knew Cori and Shade were a thing)

1. Mare and Cal are still young, they're dealing with the ramifications of everything. Mare gets pregnant, they have twins. Their relationship sort of falls apart... and they go their separate ways, each one taking a twin daughter. Mare to Montfort, Cal to the States

2. Some years later (11) the twin daughters both end up at the same sort of camp thing (not sure exactly what's going on there, but they do). They totally hijack each other and end up being forced into an isolation where they only have each other. Then they realized: HOLY SHIT YOUR MOM IS MY MON AND YOUR DAD IS MY DAD. Then they hatch their "master plan" to get Mare and Cal back together. One daughter Coriane (Cal's) and the other Avery (Mare's) switch places, going back to the opposite parent in hopes that they will have to come back together to switch them back.

3. Shenanigans obviously ensue. And Cori realizes horribly quickly that Mare is dating someone... and Avery kinda didn't know about it. The guy (who is not Tyton because I Would NEVER slander that boi like that) is an asshole period. So Cori has to be a snappy little shit and tries to break them up. I just have this one conversation in my head where the guy confronts her and is like: For your information, I adore your mother, she's exactly the kind of woman I always dreamed of marrying. And Cori just leans forward and goes: and my mother's political and military standing wouldn't have anything to do with that... would it? And he goes from being nice politician guy to straight dick in .2 seconds and leans forward to day: listen here puss, I'm marrying your mother in three weeks, whether you like it or not. Is that clear? And once I do, I'm shipping your ass off to the Lakelands. And that's when Cori sends emergency message number 1 to Avery in the States who has been busy ignoring her panic because she's having the time of her life with her dad.

4. Anyway, Julian is the one that figures it out, cause he follows Avery after she runs out to place an emergency call to Montfort to tell Cori to hang in there. He makes Avery tell Cal and we get the cute scene where she's in his office and she has a little suitcase with her, and he laughs and asks where she is going when she buries her face in his shirt. And all muffled says: I'm going to find Cori. And he laughs again and says: I see Cori, so where is she exactly? And she just kinda sniffles looks up at him and says: In Ascendant, with her mom Mare Barrow. And Cal just kinda of looks up at Julian who gives him that little smile. And then he cups Avery's face, lifts it up to look at her, and says: You're not Cori.... you're Avery? and then he puts it together. They decide to go to Ascendant to switch them back. Cal is low key a wreck all the way there, and Julian goes with them with Sara because he's low key gotta chaperone his stressed out nephew still. (Little does Cal know that Julian, Sara, Cori, and Avery all planned it so that they go to the place Mare/Fiance are looking at for their wedding, without Cal knowing what's happening, and without Mare knowing anything at all.)

5. They all end up there, They get separated from each other for a split second and when they happens, Cal ends up spotting Mare getting into an elevator with her asshole fiancé, and she literally almost falls over leaning to the side making sure she is actually seeing her ex-husband and not a ghost of him induced by her low key guilt over remarrying (especially since who she thinks is Avery has been so very opposed to it). Then Cal goes up (mind you, he may be slightly drunk cause... it's funny in the movie, so it works here) runs into both the girls, and finds out Mare is getting re-married, and they try to convince him to stop it, but he won't hear any of it, and tells them he is only there to switch them back.

6. Cal goes down ahead of the girls, and is in the bar trying to get something to deal with the raging headache he has, and who does he run into but Asshole Fiance who is so freaking excited to realize it's him because wow, political ambitions to the max there.

6. Anyway, they go down to a garden and the girls are sitting there with Julian and Sara, and Mare is literally on the HUNT for Cal. She's so confused why he's here, etc. etc. Then she spots him walking down the stairs of the garden (it can be in slow motion while he's adjusting his jacket if you like 😏) and she literally runs into someone, and ends up in a fountain. Cal pulls her out, and she's just looking up at him shocked and confused, and then the girls show up and explain what they did and Mare's just baffled until she laughs and hugs them both. They sit down, Cal gives her his jacket and they talk for a second and Mare just says: I can't believe this... seeing them together, seeing you again... I just-- And then asshole fiance shows up and is like: FINALLY! There you are! Oh um...oh good, you've met! Honey, I was just speaking with him in the bar and um, we were talking about some trade deals, and um wait, I dont understand how did you two meet? and Mare... why are you all wet? and Mare just looks at Cal and goes: you're doing a political trade deal with my fiancé? and Cal's like: i didn't know he was your fiancé? And then Mare's like hahahaha how did we meet? How did you two meet? And Fiance just goes: Am I missing something here? And Mare going: hahaha this is one small world. Cue Avery popping up near his elbow and saying: Hey. And then him sniffing and going: hello. And then Cori popping up and going: Hi, how's it going? And him having a small freak out before Mare sort of grimaces and says: Um... did I ever mention to you that Avery was a twin? And he's just totally put out and grumbles: you neglected to mention that little detail. And the girls are more than happy to introduce Cal as their dad, and fiancé just goes: well, this is a small world. And Mare just awkward grimaces and says: and getting smaller.

7. Anyway, the girls make them go on a cute little date, and they sort of talk about why they broke up and why she left, and we get my favorite dialogue exchange from any movie every made and Mare says: well, I got on an airship to Montfort, and... you didn't chase after me. And Cal just sort of leans forward and says quietly: I didn't know you wanted me to. Then we cut to the next day, they're agreeing to send the girls back and forth between them for certain things, and then low and behold their trouble making daughters show up wearing identical outfits, and the girls give them their proposal. They will tell them who is who after they go on the camping trip. (Aka the one Mare takes Avery on every year in Paradise Valley). Cal crouches down and says: This one is Cori, I'm sure of it. And the one he's point to who is actually Avery just smirks and says: Are you sure dad? You wouldn't want to take the wrong kid all the way back to Archeon would you? And then they're forced to agree to said camping trip.

8. Cue my absolute favorite part of the 1998 movie, where we cut to the fiancé going: AND WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO FOR FIVE DAYS? STAY HOME AND KNITT? And Mare just turns around and says: listen, we're in a bit of a situation here. And then Cal's coming down the stairs from the Barrow's town house with his backpack like: 🙃 I have such bad timing. And Fiancé turns around and says: hold on, why is he going? And mare's irritated as all get out so she just snorts and says: because it's part of the deal... we go on this trip... together. And then Cal walks up and being the little shit he is says: is there a problem? And the guys just looks him up and down and goes: Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm not so sure I'm okay with this. And Cal immediately knows how to make this man's life fucking miserable, so he says: Oh I completely understand. The ex in the next sleeping bag is just... so awkward. And Mare just puts her head in her hand and Cal gives this guy his best sympathetic grin and says: which is why I suggest you go with them. And the girls in the truck are like: DAD! NO! And Cal's just like: No I insist. And then the guy is walking down the stair, looking for all intents and purposely like a jackass, and Cal's behind him, already trying to contain his laughter. And the guy gets in the truck, looking annoyed as all get out, and the girls are pissed, and Mare's just looking at Cal like: I can't decide if I wanna kill you or laugh with you. And then Cal just pats the side of the truck and says: alright have fun. And the guy kinda leans across Mare and says: I mean on second thought, maybe this isn't the best idea... I mean... I"m not much a... nature person. And Cal's like mock horrified and says: No, no you really should. This is a great opportunity for you to spend time with the girls and get to know them. And then he gives that jack as his prize winning, shit eating grin and says: Cause starting next week, they're half yours. And Mare just sticks her tongue between her teeth with her smile and puts her shades on and drives away. Cue Kilorn coming up next to Cal and smirking with him and saying; Oh I would pay BIG money to see that man climb a mountain.

9. The camping trip goes miserable, they come back early cause the girls create chaos and the fiancé leaves. Delivering the key line: Once we're married, I'm shipping those BRATS off to Tiraxes. Got it? IT's me or them, take your pick.

They come up the stairs to the town house and Cal's there (wearing super comfy clothes) and is mock shocked when he says: what happened? And the Avery just goes: we've been grounded. and Corie comes up behind her saying until the end of the century. And Cal's just like: why? What happened? and Cori says: we played a couple harmless pranks, and [insert fiancé's name] got a little upset. And Mare storms up behind them and says: Upset? A little Upset? Then she glares at the girls and then at Cal and says: But like father like daughters. You're grounding starts now. And the girls go inside, and Mare just kinda stays out there, fiddling with the engagement ring she took off and says: One day I'm going to have to thank them for this. And then Mare and Cal kinda of have a cute little conversation and then that night, they have their little romantic moment where they almost kiss, but then Mare pulls back. The next day, they leave. (At this point they weren't in Ascendant, they were in a smaller Montfort city near Paradise Valley). So Mare goes home. And once she and Avery get there, they walk into their apartment, and Cori's sitting on the couch, and Mare's just like: oh... um hello. And Cori just smiles and says: it took us about two minutes after you left to realize we were never letting you go again. And Mare's like: us? And then Cal comes out, and is like: us. And Then we get my Second favorite dialogue exchange of all time where Mare goes: so what now? Am I supposed to... to say that we're going to work all this out, that we'll... fall in love again and raise out children together and cry hysterically? And Cal just pulls her close with a smile and says: Yes, to all of that. Only you dont have to cry hysterically.

Then we get happy ending cause YAY the girls won and their parents are back together. Anyway, as you can see I've thought about this AU for far too long and I actually came super close to writing it but then decided, eh better not.

[ectogeo-art]

omg i want to hear about romulan embassy siskarak

WIP ask meme

Omg, yes, thank you for asking, I’m so excited about this one!!!! :D The fic idea appeared to me fully formed as soon as I saw this post by @the-last-dillards about how in a scene cut from “The Wire”, Sisko mentions that he and Curzon were at an embassy on Romulus when Sisko was about Julian's age, and dillards speculated that it would be funny if Sisko and Curzon happened to be there at the same time as Garak was on Romulus posing as a gardener. Most everyone else who saw that post was like "lmao Curzon/Garak <3" and while that is extremely funny too, the Sisko/Garak implications are soooo much more interesting to me personally.

I think Sisko would be an interesting parallel-but-not-quite to Julian. I feel like young Sisko would be similarly bright and passionate and idealistic, which we KNOW is a type Garak is attracted to, but unlike Julian, Sisko would NOT put up with Garak’s bullshit mindgames, he would NOT find Garak inherently charming.

And then there’s Garak, still young, on top of his game, feeling confident and powerful and indestructible (but ultimately just Tain’s pawn... he’s been indoctrinated to love Cardassia unconditionally and hasn’t really had that challenged in any way yet).

They would both find each other extremely grating. Sisko embodies everything Garak hates about the Federation, so Garak would want to take him down a peg, make him sink to Garak’s level. Sisko would be infuriated by Garak’s duplicitous and condescending nature, but maybe Garak also keeps saying things that are juuuust provocative enough that Sisko can’t seem to help arguing back against his points (and Sisko really doesn’t get how that’s somehow turning both of them on...).

So that’s the gist why I’m obsessed with the potential for this pairing during pre-canon in general. Now onto the fic itself! Juuuust in case I never get around to actually writing this, here’s my detailed plan for the romulan embassy siskarak fic:

Sisko and Curzon are on assignment at the Federation embassy on Romulus. The Federation embassy is holding an open house next week. Sisko offers to help cook the food for the event, because he has an idea to incorporate ingredients from other cultures into his jambalaya recipe to Symbolize how cultural exchange can lead to amazing new technological advances and/or art and/or political alliances (or idk, whatever overwrought metaphor an excited young Sisko decides is galaxy brain levels of diplomacy). Curzon's just like “hell yeah, sounds great, kid! go for it!”

So Ensign Sisko (or whatever his rank is at that point idk) asks around at the other embassies nearby for ingredients native to their homeworlds. They give him some recommendations, but he’d have to replicate or import the ingredients. But then he gets to the Cardassian embassy and they have this beeeeautiful garden, overflowing with native Cardassian produce. Sisko asks the gardener there (Garak) if he can possibly use some of the vegetables for his jambalaya of interplanetary diplomacy.

Garak is instantly annoyed by how performative and insipid Sisko’s project is... but Garak knows he has to play nice and hand over the vegetables. He also knows how much he doesn't want sisko rendering these vegetables he's been diligently tending into tasteless inedible garbage that an unrefined Federation or Romulan palate couldn’t possibly even appreciate... So he smiles politely, and offers to show him the proper way to cook it. Tonight. In Sisko’s quarters.

Garak internally justifies this unnecessary dinner date by deciding that it will be a good opportunity to scope out the inside of the Federation embassy. And so what if he’s also getting a little riled up thinking about all the delicious arguments he might have with this headstrong and attractive Starfleet officer? So what if he kind of wants to figure out what he has to say in order break Sisko’s composure? What he can say that would make Sisko, despite his self-satisfied demeanor of peace and acceptance and understanding, angrily slam Garak into the wall hard enough to trigger the pleasurable rush of the implant...?

Meanwhile back in sisko POV... Sisko gladly accepts, actually quite eager to learn more about cooking, and a little curious about this strange Cardassian gardener who seems a little bit interested in him. (He’s not annoyed by Garak yet, because all he’s seen is his mask, his poker face.) Curzon’s taught Sisko everything about diplomacy and how to be a Starfleet officer and how to be a person, and sisko looks up to him in a bit of an unhealthy way. Sisko knows that the easiest way to impress Curzon is to score with an alien. Sisko’s maybe a little curious to see if that’s what Garak is interested in, so that Sisko will have something to brag about with Curzon.

[sidenote: idk where Jennifer is in this timeline (but also the canon timeline of when Curzon and Sisko were off on adventures that included banging twin alien chicks and getting falling-down-drunk together seems inconsistent with the canon timeline of when Sisko and Jennifer met lolll)... anyway, maybe bennifer are on a break bc of the long-distance while he’s on Romulus, and/or bc she maybe doesn’t particularly like the influence Curzon has had on him and they very recently got in a fight about it.]

Okay, so now it’s that night in Sisko’s quarters. For now let’s just gloss right over the (presumably horny as hell) scene about the chopping and stewing and seasoning of the vegetables—during which the arguments (and resulting tensions) between them build and build, from little things like vegetable chopping techniques to the fundamental paradigms of their worldviews and senses of morality—and let’s fast forward directly into the middle of their fight about whether the federation sucks more than the cardassian empire: Garak out of nowhere just starts undoing his shirt while saying something inflammatory questioning the federation’s true commitment to cultural exchange... Garak basically implies that Sisko is a hypocrite who has been arguing for ideals he doesn’t believe in if he doesn’t want to bang Garak RIGHT NOW...

And then they bang, And it’s a mess, and they HATE each other, and it’s really hot. Or at least, that’s the idea. ( @delicatetrashstranger volunteered to help write the E-rated part, for which I am very grateful, lol.) In the end, the weird space jambalaya burns while they are going at it, and everything is ruined and smells terrible, and Sisko doesn’t even WANT to brag about this one to Curzon, because he is not proud of how he let Garak get under his skin. Garak maybe experiences A Consequence of some kind that makes him realize he can’t recklessly throw himself at Federation hotties (like... maybe something Sisko says makes him question a Truth he was certain of, or maybe this fling has jeopardized his assassination plans somehow, or maybe there is a close call where he almost reveals something personal about himself, or almost accidentally leaves behind his underwear, which is where he keeps some of his sci fi Spy Gadgets, lol idk).

The end!

Hope you’ve enjoyed this summary of my fic... I hope I actually write it one day XD (If anyone feels inspired by any aspect of this and wants to run with it, PLEASE DO! Also, if, like me, you desperately Need this fic to exist, feel free to let me know that you’re excited about it! My brain is all garashir all the time, so any WIP that’s not garashir sometimes needs to be helped along by external motivation lol.)

[simonfarnabyslegs]

for the ask game: Julian, Captain and Humphrey! :)

julian

a song that reminds me of them: a cop out, since this one is canon. any time i hear "i'll make love to you," i think of him singing that at music club (and also mary going "i don't want him toooo" lol). i also feel like he would LOVE britney spears's music.

what they smell like: really expensive but really bad aftershave and too much cologne. also alcohol and sex. but the first thing you notice is the bad aftershave.

an otp: him and robin. there is no other acceptable pairing. i do think it would be funny if he and fanny had a thing though. or him and the captain (alison walks in on them doing something and the captain just yells "WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF CHAPS IN THE LIBRARY" while julian isn't even trying to keep what they were just doing a secret).

a notp: uhhh him and kitty. she's the only one i would be mad about tbh.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: the way he's like a really awful, bad-influence uncle to alison.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i can't think of one. we all generally agree that he's a hilarious bastard man and come up with stuff accordingly.

the position they sleep in: he sleeps in the exact middle of the bed, or he starts out on one side, since he's used to sharing in life, but gradually spreads out, and if anyone else tried to sleep in the same bed as him they'd be really annoyed because he always manages to hog so much space and leave them barely hanging onto the edge.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: very unoriginal, but i'd love to see a horrible histories stupid deaths segment with him.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: we've seen a couple now actually, unlike some of the other ghosts. but i really do prefer the no trousers look and anything else is slightly unsettling if i'm honest.

the captain

a song that reminds me of them: i really can't think of one. the captain isn't one of my favourite characters so i don't really think a lot about him when i listen to music. sorry.

what they smell like: weirdly, i think he smells like nothing. like. unsettlingly so. you almost want him to smell like something, but he just. doesn't. he's very clean, but he doesn't even smell like soap. it's just. an empty air smell, if you can describe it as such. he smokes, too, so you'd expect a tobacco smell or a smoke smell, but even that isn't there. this man just smells like nothing.

an otp: i don't ship him with any of the other ghosts in the house. i do think him and julian hooking up exactly one (1) time could lead to multiple hilarious comedic possibilities, but i don't want them to be in a relationship.

a notp: i saw someone shipping him with fanny and just... no. that doesn't make any sense.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: i love how he's just got that Dad Instinct. he looked at kitty and alison and went "isn't anyone going to father these young ladies?" and didn't wait for an answer.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i don't like the patcaps ship.

the position they sleep in: series 1 cap slept board-straight in the bed, almost like he was standing at attention. series 3 cap probably sleeps curled up on his side, or on his stomach, or curled up all nice and comfy.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: young wwi era cap in series 2 of downton abbey. i don't know if i'd like to see him turn up as a young man in the trenches or one of the patients at downton, or maybe as a medical officer like thomas barrow, in the lower ranks, helping out in the background.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: *gestures* this?

humphrey

a song that reminds me of them: "blue caravan" by vienna teng. after all the "mr. cheese" stuff, i got to thinking about how he probably has a lot of time to imagine the different lives he could have had if circumstances had been different, and this song is about imagining the perfect supportive, caring partner, but realising that they're not real and it's just a foolish self delusion. or perhaps a lighter, more hopeful version of the same theme, "jackie and wilson" by hozier, where the narrator once again imagines a partner and an ideal life which they haven't achieved yet, but they're still holding out for.

what they smell like: okay so tudors only bathed like once every six to eight weeks or something like that. they believed baths were bad for them. not only that, wealthy tudors' diets were appalling. so unfortunately he probably doesn't smell great. (but luckily i've never had much of a sense of smell, so.....)

an otp: him and someone who actually likes him and wants to talk to him and spend time with him. so far we haven't seen that, so for now i'll keep making up random ocs to set him up with.

a notp: him and thomas, since thomas is so horrible to him.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: i'd love to see him be yet another dad to alison, or to kitty.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i don't like the whole humphrey and jemima thing because a lot of the stuff is either really fucking uncomfortable, or the people who write it make it weird by babying jemima. she's 11-12 years old and they treat her like she's four years old and that just feels really weird to me. obviously she's a kid and she should be treated like one, but there's also such a thing as age appropriate parenting. also i'm pretty sure jemima is meant to be one of john's kids who also died of the plague so like. acting like she's all alone and hasn't got any parents or anyone at all is so confusing to me because if she's one of john's kids, she's got like twenty parents. we just don't see her with the plague ghosts because like any kid, she probably goes off and plays away from her parents during the day. anyway.

the position they sleep in: when he was alive i feel like he would fall asleep in a normal position, on his back or on his side, but when his valet or whoever went to wake him up in the morning, he was always like, hanging off the bed or laying at a weird angle and they were always like "how the fuck did he even get like that." in death, like. his head just sleeps however it was set down or dropped. and i'm a fan of your headcanon that the body just collapses wherever it is when his head falls asleep.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: forgive me for saying downton abbey again but i'm doing a rewatch with one of my friends. i'm gonna throw him into the edwardian era as some random gentleman cousin and he and lady edith are going to be poor, pitiful, unlucky-in-love besties who bond over all the ridiculously tragic shit that's happened to them and how they always get bullied or left out of things.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: he technically only has one outfit (damn the bbc for putting the whole costuming budget into the georgian episode instead of the tudor one. /j), but i like the dressed down version where he's just in the white shirt and the breeches. he looks. very handsome. in that scene. ahem.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Meet Drusilla Blackthorn (fan fic)

This is Chap 3 of “Welcome to Faerieland”, a sequel to my Kitty Fan Fic "To never being parted" although it can be read as a standalone story. 

I am introducing Dru & Jaime in this Chapter. 

And of course, Kit & Ty are being as gooey as ever.

AO3 Link here.

*****

“Look at you trying to flee from the crime scene.”

Jaime startled and his hand froze on the doorknob. He whirled to face Dru, who was watching him with a glitter of amusement in her Blackthorn blue-green eyes. She was lying on her side, arm angled upwards, head on hand. Her large black shirt hugged her soft curves and barely covered her thighs, revealing a criminally vast expanse of her smooth milky skin. A message was printed at the level of her chest. Shadowhunters: Looking Better in Black Than the Widows of our Enemies Since 1234. Apparently, it had been a gift from Jace. Her long dark brown hair was pulled in a braid, crossing over one of her shoulders. He knew from staring at her beautiful face while she was sleeping or otherwise unaware, that tiny freckles sprinkled her rosy cheeks, that her long dark eyelashes - not unlike her brothers’ - followed a perfect curve as if she was constantly wearing mascara and that the luscious red of her full lips deepened when she bit them. As she was doing right now. He gulped and hoped with everything he had that she couldn’t hear the loud thump thump of his frantic heart.

“I am not-”

“Relaaax. You look like you just hid a corpse in the cupboard and are trying to make a run for it.”

How could she not understand? When he had met her three years ago, he had thought she was cute, sweet, funny, dependable and - admittedly - already a badass. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had occurred but, over time, sincere friendship had turned into deep affection and deep affection had somehow turned into lust and… love? In any case, there definitely was lust. He fought the urge to cross himself reflexively.

She had never looked her age, and that hadn’t changed with the years. She had entirely grown out of her baby fat, her features sharpening and her limbs lengthening, but she still had a voluptuous figure. She looked like a sexy grown woman, and certainly not like a sixteen-year-old girl. But she was, he reminded himself.

Even if the mundane statutory rape laws dit not apply to Shadowhunters, he still felt like he was breaking some kind of unspoken rule, thirsting after a sixteen-year-old. It didn’t help that the package came with an army of very scary brothers. The villains from Dru’s favorite horror movies had nothing on them. The thought of Julian Blackthorn alone discovering the truth was enough to keep him up at night.

“You know what it will look like if I bump into one of your brothers. If they find out I have spent the whole night here…”

“So? Nothing actually happened. And you did nothing wrong except fall asleep in front of “Old Boy”...”

“Dru- I am serious…”

“So am I! This movie is awesome! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dru…”

Dru sighed and moved to a sitting position against the headboard, knees up, arms encircling her legs. Jaime tried not to stare as her shirt lifted higher over her thighs.

“Jaime. You know what your problem is? You still haven’t gotten into your head that it’s not my brothers you should be afraid of. The Blackthorn women are much scarier.”

“I can believe that…” Jaime muttered under his breath.

“Anyway, don’t worry about them, they’re probably going to sleep in since they’ve been very busy last night. Mark with Cristina, Julian with Emma, and Ty with… Kit.”

Jaime’s eyes widened.

“You think Ty and Kit…?”

Dru lifted both her dark eyebrows at him. “Are you seriously asking me to confirm or elaborate on my brother’s sex life?”

“No, no, of course not…” Jaime felt heat rushing to his cheeks. Why did everyone get to have sex but him? Maybe because you've been pining for a sixteen-year-old for months now, he reminded himself for the thousandth time. He wanted to punch himself.

“Just kidding, Jaime. Look at you blushing… Wait- I hope you don’t have a problem with my brother being with… a guy?”

She suddenly leaned forward, her gaze piercing.

Jaime knew how fiercely protective of her siblings Dru was. She had quite a reputation at the Shadowhunter Academy, as someone not to be messed with or rubbed the wrong way. She had somehow found a way to acquire knowledge on people and discover their most dirty secrets. She had no qualms using the intelligence when it came to protecting her family or the Blackthorns’ reputation. Although she did not hesitate to break a few arms and ribs to prove her point, most of the time, she operated in a more subtle way. With finesse, one could say.

A Shadowhunter student who had had the ill-conceived idea of calling Mark Blackthorn “the Unseelie King’s sex toy” was living proof of that. Jaime had not heard the full details of the story but it apparently involved a wide collection of dildos, very enthusiastic piskies, and had earned the boy several nicknames that he would probably never part from.

Judging by the look on Dru’s face now, Jaime’s life was hanging by the thread of his answer. She didn’t need to worry.

“No! Hey! What the hell? Of course not! You know me, right?”

She relaxed, leaning casually against the headboard, her arms crossed behind her head.

“Not as much as I would like to...” she replied, with a wink. “But yeah, I guess so.” A wicked grin split across her face.

Forgive me, Father, for I am this close to becoming a sinner, Jaime thought as he hurriedly escaped from the room.

****

Kit grabbed Ty by the arm just as he was slipping out of bed.

“Not so fast, Centurion.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Are you trying to sneak out? You got what you came for and now you’re tossing me like an unpaired sock? I am wounded.”

Ty just stared at him.

Hmmm. Maybe too early for humour.

“I don’t think I’ve had my fill yet, that’s all…” Kit clarified, as he stretched like a cat. Or a lion. Definitely like a lion.

Both Ty’s V shaped eyebrows rose.

“I thought… You said you needed your rest.”

“Ty, I was not talking about that, however tempting. There are other things in life than sex.”

“Is that a fact?” Ty asked playfully, a corner of his mouth lifting. Okay. Virgin Mary turned into the God of Sex overnight. How the hell did that happen?

“I want a cuddle.” Kit pouted as he snuggled up against Ty and encircled him with his arms.

Ty surrendered to his embrace, falling back on the bed. Kit rolled on top of him and pinned his arms above his head. He started alternating between brushing and pressing his lips over Ty’s face, tracing his beautiful features from memory, with his eyes closed.

“I… have… some… errands...to… run… Mysteries… to… uncover,” Ty gasped between feathery kisses.

“I am a mystery.” Kit nibbled Ty’s earlobe, before whispering in his ear. “Uncover me.”

“You are naked,” Ty rightfully observed, though his voice was quavering and his breaths short.

“I am. But have you explored every avenue?”

“Fair point, Watson,” Ty said in a husky voice, before swallowing hard.

“That’s what I am here for, Sherlock,” Kit replied. He kissed Ty’s eyelids, his nose, and started exploring Ty’s mouth with his tongue.

They rubbed against each other, their limbs entangled, as the kiss grew deeper, hungrier, until both had to draw back to catch their breath.

“I love you,” Kit blurted.

“I love you too,” Ty replied softly, staring at Kit with his gray eyes half closed. He looked dizzy.

“I love you more,” Kit retaliated.

“How could you ever verify that?” Ty asked, his eyes widening with a look of genuine surprise.

“Easy. I just know that no one in the history of the universe could have ever loved anyone the way I love you.”

Ty looked - if possible - even more puzzled.

“I know it because my soul belongs with yours, Ty. If there are other worlds out there where I exist and you don’t, I don’t ever want to meet myself there. For what kind of empty shell - or monster - would I be if I hadn’t met you?”

They both startled as they heard a knock on the door.

“I am not decent!” Kit answered, as he reached hurriedly for a blanket to cover Ty’s body.

“This has never bothered you before,” Jace ‘s voice replied through the door. “Does this mean you are not the only one who’s not presentable in there? I just came across Mark running around naked in the corridors and I am pretty sure I have seen enough Blackthorns’ buttocks for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kit answered, his voice muffled under the blanket covering both his and Ty’s bodies completely, like two kids curled up under a makeshift tent. Ty was shaking with silent laughter.

“Sure you don’t,” Jace answered, but Kit could hear his footsteps receding.

[jaskierswolf]

The Howling of Wolves pt.2/3

TW for the whole story: Angst with happy ending, kidnapping, mentioned previous child abuse, mentioned torture (but off page), Major character injury and recovery, canon typical violence

Previous

Jaskier gasped awake as a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. “Oh bloody hell, fuck that’s cold.” He spluttered through mouthfuls of water.

His hands were bound in cuffs that were chained to the wall. The metal almost burnt his skin meaning they were laced with dimeritium. He was all too familiar with dimeritium handcuffs, they had been a staple of his childhood during the experiments of his youth. Just to be sure he tried to let out his magic and shift. It would be idiotic not to try, but sure enough he barely felt a ghost of his magic over his skin.

At least who ever had taken him had allowed him to keep his clothes.

There was an unsettling itch just below his skin which he hadn’t felt in months which was bothering him.

How long had it been since he shifted? Not since before Geralt had gone off on his werewolf hunt, perhaps even a few days before that. Not long enough for him to be feeling like this though. It was normally at least a couple of weeks before he started to feel cramped in his own skin.

Fuck. How long had he been unconscious…

Unless whatever was in that dart had messed with his magic more than he thought.

“Geralt?” It was a long shot but he had to ask, at the very least he could work out whether his boyfriend was in danger.

“Your witcher isn’t here, petal.”

Jaskier’s heart sank and he felt a dizzy panic hit him like a giant.

“No.” He whispered.

He couldn’t be here. Not now, not again.

“Now, is that anyway to greet your mother, Julian?” His mother stepped out of shadows, and people wondered where he got his flare for the dramatics.

“Well, I would say it’s lovely to see you, mother, but I am currently chained to the wall.” He held up his bound hands as if to prove his point. “So really I’d rather be on my way and out of your hair, if you don’t mind.”

She laughed. “Oh dear boy, the cuffs are for your own good.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, heard that one before.” He muttered.

“If we can just work out how to cure you then everything will be ok. You don’t need to be a monster.” She cooed, the same shit that she’d been spewing for years before his escape.

“I am not a monster!” He snapped. “Geralt knows that.”

“That witcher is no better than the beasts he slays!” His mother shrieked. “I only ever loved you, darling. Why must you fight me?”

“Loved me?” Jaskier scoffed. “You hate my very existence, or do you just hate the reminder that you cheated on your husband, that you’re stuck in a loveless marriage?”

“Gag him!” His mother ordered and Jaskier’s chains were yanked hard. He fell back against the floor.

“Hmmph!” He protested as one of the servants tied something around his head.

“Now, shall we begin?” His mother knelt down and cupped his cheeks. He saw his own eyes reflected back at him. There had never been any doubt of who his mother had been. His eyes were the spitting image of hers.

It had taken him a long time to learn to love his eyes.

“Hmmph.” He grumbled and rolled his eyes at her, shaking the cuffs on his hands. He’d never been very good at keeping his hands still.

She stroked a finger along his cheek and he tried to turn away.

How had he ended back in this hell?

He just hoped Geralt would find him soon.

___________________________________

The witchers of Kaer Morhen had gathered in a dingy looking cave. Geralt was pacing irritably across the entrance of the cave. It had been weeks since Jaskier’s disappearance. He’d tried to track his partner on his own but whoever had taken him had been too good so he’d sent messages to his pack and waited, impatiently for them to arrive at a fairly central location.

Lambert had been the last to arrive. He’d turned up with another witcher in tow, a blond blue-eyed witcher from the School of Cat. On any other day Geralt would have teased his redheaded brother about finally finding a friend who could tolerate him… but today his focus was on Jaskier.

“Wolf, you are making us all seasick with all that pacing.” Vesemir said in a calm voice.

Geralt snarled at the oldest witcher. How could he be so calm when Jaskier was missing?

“Jaskier is missing, possibly dead, and you are worried about getting seasick!” Geralt snapped.

“Hey.” Eskel punched his arm. “You’re not finding anyone like this. Getting pissed at Vesemir won’t help Jaskier, Geralt.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to find him.”

Eskel pulled him into a hug and he buried his face in his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll find him. They’ll regret taking one of our pack. I promise you.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder them all.” Lambert agreed.

Geralt looked at Lambert over Eskel’s shoulder and scowled. “No. Whoever did this, they are mine.”

Lambert laughed darkly and nodded. “Alright, White Wolf. You have a deal.”

“No.” Vesemir said firmly. “We do not take revenge. We get the pup and we get out.”

“But Vesemir!” Lambert whined.

“We kill to defend ourselves, nothing more.” Vesemir’s voice left no room for arguments.

Geralt scowled and picked up his swords. “Let’s get moving.”

“Do we actually know where we’re going?” The blond witcher drawled as he pushed himself off of the wall. “Because it seems like not one of you actually has a plan?”

Geralt glared at the newcomer and his fingers itched to reach for his sword. He wouldn’t hurt Lambert’s friend but normally they would greet new witchers by sparring or wrestling, especially if they were being welcomed into the pack of wolf school witchers. Jaskier had gotten a pass, partly because he wasn’t a witcher and partly because he could turn into a fucking dragon. It also helped that Geralt had vouched for him.

Lambert had vouched for Aiden but Lambert didn’t have a good history of choosing friends, and Geralt didn’t trust Aiden yet.

“Don’t even think about it, you bastard.” Lambert snarled.

“You gave Jaskier concussion.” Geralt pointed out.

Lambert had the audacity to laugh. “Fair point, sorry Aiden, he gets a free hit when all this is over.”

“Idiots.” The cat witcher muttered. “All of you. Remind me again why we’re friends?”

“Because I’m pretty?” Lambert suggest.

Eskel snorted.

“Oi!” Lambert growled.

“Can we please focus!” Geralt snapped. “Jaskier is missing! I don’t care if Lambert’s pretty or not.”

“Yeah but…” Lambert protested.

“You’re gorgeous, darling, but the White Wolf has a point.” Aiden winked at Lambert who spluttered and went bright red.

“Right. Yup. Ok.” He muttered and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What did you say that man called him?” Aiden asked, peering at Geralt with cool blue eyes.

Geralt frowned. “Julian.”

Aiden nodded. “Then I think I can help you, if you’re willing to trust me, dog?”

Geralt glanced at Lambert. His cheeks still matched the colour of his hair and he was scowling angrily at the world, but he nodded. The nod was barely perceptible even to Geralt but it was enough. Lambert trusted this new witcher and he was Geralt’s only hope right now to finding Jaskier.

He reached out his hand and Aiden grasped it tightly as they shook on it. “Help me.” Geralt all but pleaded.

“Alright, listen up dogs.” Aiden grinned, his fangs shining in the firelight.

____________________

Jaskier groaned as he was pulled to his feet. How long had he been here now, stuck in his old bedroom as if he’d been sucked into one of his nightmares?

His skin itched, his bones ached and he felt like he was on fire. The metal cuffs cut into his skin and his once cream shirt was now yellow and covered in splatters of blood.

The last time he’d been here, his family’s attempts at ‘curing’ him had been based on working out the limits of his abilities and where they had come from. This time his mother, without the help of mages, had decided to starve his magic instead. He  woke up shivering each morning and it was instinctive to him to try and shift but every morning he let out a pitiful cry and fell to the ground sobbing.

He was stuck.

He couldn’t breathe.

He had begged his mother to take off the cuffs, to allow him to shift. He’d promised he wouldn’t shift into anything dangerous or try to escape but he needed.

Gods he needed.

He ached.

But his mother just pulled him to her chest and stroked his hair, whispering that it would pass and that he was just experiencing withdrawal following his time with the witchers.

The witchers.

Geralt.

Where was Geralt?

Why hadn’t he come?

He’d been sure that Geralt would find him.

And it all hurt so damned much.

“F-fuck!” He stammered and curled up into a ball on the floor.

At least before his room had at least tried to resemble a bedroom. Now it was just a stone cold prison.

He felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could survive. He needed to shift. They knew that. They knew they were killing him in this crazy plan to cure him.

But he needed to survive.

He had to.

For Geralt.

For his pack. His family. His heart.

He had to survive.

____

Next

[eratobard]

Saved by the Bell: Chapter 6

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geraskier, Geralt x Jaskier

Rating: G

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

~~~

Jaskier seemed more focused after he had eaten a few of the apple slices. Geralt found it cute how Jaskier stuck out his tongue when he was concentrating. Jaskier caught Geralt staring at him and winked, “You almost got your three done?”

Geralt averted his gaze and nodded, “Uh yes.” He had been done with the worksheet for a while.

“Great, me too!” Jaskier quickly filled out another question. “Done!” He jumped off the bed and skipped to his bedroom door, “Wanna do some cartwheels outside?”

Geralt nodded as he followed him outside. He watched as Jaskier bent forward, standing on his hands. His legs wobbled a bit as he walked around in the grass. Jaskier beamed, his face turning a bit red from the blood rushing to it, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to join?”

“I don’t… know how to cartwheel, or do a handstand,” Geralt mumbled.

“Oh!” Jaskier flipped back to his feet. “I can show you if you want.” Some of his hair was still stuck up in places. He pulled his shirt back down over his stomach.

“Okay…”

Jaskier held up his hands as he stood in front of Geralt, “First thing, put up your hands, and make a pose.” He stuck his right leg out and cocked his hip. He glanced over his shoulder, “The pose is important for confidence. You try.”

Geralt felt silly, but he listened anyway, putting his hands up, and attempting to mimic Jaskier’s pose. Jaskier watched him, hands on his hips, “Good, but the pose should be something you are comfortable with. You look scared.”

Geralt blushed, “I feel nervous.”

Jaskier placed his hand on his shoulders, “Don’t be. Here. Loosen up, like this.” He jumped slightly while shaking his arms and legs, rolling his neck.

Geralt exhaled while following Jaskier’s lead. He did feel a bit better. “I think I’m ready now…” He held up his hands and struck a pose. He looked more like a giant ‘X’ but it was a pose he was comfortable with. “What now?”

“Now you cartwheel!” Jaskier stood in front of Geralt again. He got into stance then rotated his body into a cartwheel. He made it look so easy. Jaskier twirled around to face him. “Ta-dah! Easy!”

Geralt frowned in concentration. He twisted to the side, but fumbled, only completing half of the cartwheel. He grunted as he tried to right himself.

Jaskier clapped in excitement, “That was a great first try! If you want to try again, I could spot you.”

“Spot me?” Geralt moved his long hair out of his face.

“Yeah, I can hold your legs, or stand by for support so you don’t fall.”

Geralt’s face grew warm at the thought of Jaskier holding onto his ankles. “Um, okay.” He moved into position again, with Jaskier facing him.

Jaskier winked, “Ready?” Geralt nodded and performed the cartwheel again. Jaskier steadied his legs and helped lead him through the cartwheel. He cheered when Geralt successfully completed it. “That was awesome! You did great.”

Geralt chuckled and shook his head, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jaskier grinned, slinging his arm around Geralt, “That doesn’t take away your accomplishment. Sometimes people need help. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Julian, your break time is up. Time to get back to your homework,” Jaskier’s dad called from a window.

“Dad!” Jaskier whined, “I told you to call me Jaskier.”

“Sorry, I slipped. I’ll be more careful. Come inside. I made some lemonade.”

“Lemonade!” Jaskier cheered as he ran inside. He waved back at Geralt, “Come on, Dad’s lemonade is the best.”

The two sat at the kitchen bar as they gulped down the lemonade. Geralt hummed in contentment, “This is really good. Thank you Mr. Pankratz.”

Jaskier’s dad nodded, “No problem, glad you like it.”

Jaskier hopped down from the stool when he finished his lemonade off. “Alright! Back to work!”

“You need to finish 8 questions this time.”

“Noo~,” Jaskier flopped his head against the counter, covering his face with his arms, “That’s too many…”

Jaskier’s dad gently patted his back, “Do your best. If you need to break it up that’s fine, but try for eight.” He smiled at Geralt, “Thank you for helping Jaskier with his homework.”

Jaskier huffed and lifted his head, “I’m helping him too.”

Geralt nodded, “Yes, he is.”

Mr. Pankratz chuckled and ruffled Jaskier’s hair, “I’m glad. Try to finish up your homework. Your mother will be home soon.”

Jaskier grumbled as he adjusted his hair, “Fiiiine.” He smiled as he wrapped an arm around Geralt’s, “Let’s go finish our homework. Then we can play a game or something.”

Geralt’s skin tingled where Jaskier was touching his arm. With how affectionate Jaskier was, he thought he would have gotten used to his touch by now. It still gave him butterflies in his stomach. 

They had been working for a bit when he informed Jaskier he had to go to the bathroom. Jaskier pointed in the direction of the bathroom, “Off the right of the kitchen. You can’t miss it, but if you do, dad can point you in the right direction.”

Geralt nodded and followed where he had indicated. He was right, it hadn’t been hard to find. As he entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him he heard a high screeching noise.

“Darling~! I’m home!”

‘It must be Jaskier’s mom,’ Geralt thought as he tried to complete his business in the bathroom.

Jaskier’s dad grunted in response. Geralt pictured Mrs. Pankratz leaning on her husband dramatically as she spoke, “Oh you brute! Is that how you greet your wife after not seeing her for so long?” Geralt imagined Jaskier’s mother was where he got most of his dramatic behavior from.

“I saw you this morning.”

Mrs. Pankratz gasped, “How cruel… where is my son? Surely he will give me the love and attention I deserve.”

“He’s in his room doing homework. He has a friend over, so try not to embarrass him.”

“Me? Embarrass him?” she sounded offended. “I would never!”

Jaskier’s dad chuckled, “I’m serious. Jaskier really seems to like this one.”

Geralt’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. He shouldn’t be listening to this, but he needed to use the restroom and his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Oh? Is that so? They’re in his room? I should go take a peak.”

Mr. Pankratz seemed to have stopped her from his displeased whine. “Jaskier is being good and concentrating on the work. I haven’t seen him so focused in a while.”

The knowledge made Geralt want to laugh. He had never seen Jaskier so unfocused…

Mrs. Pankratz huffed, “Fine… what’s he like? Is he tall? Cute? What’s his name? How long has Jaskier known him? Is it a homework date or are they hanging out as friends? Has he confessed his feelings yet?”

Her husband stopped the barrage of questions, “His name is Geralt. I’m not going to judge a growing boy’s appearance. I’m not sure about the other questions.”

“You are terrible at gathering information.” If she was anything like Jaskier, and Geralt figured she was, she was pouting right now.

“I’m not going to be your spy.”

“Traitor,” she grumbled.

“Mom! You’re home!”

Geralt groaned internally. He must have taken so long Jaskier came to check on him. His stomach gurgled from his anxiety.

Jaskier’s voice sounded muffled as his mom fawned over him, “You’re suffocating me.”

“Sorry sugar cube, I just missed you so much!”

“Dad, have you seen Geralt? He went to the bathroom a bit ago and I was checking to make sure he was okay.”

Geralt shook his head and decided to give up. He could try later. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Geralt exited the bathroom to see a female twin of Jaskier. Her long brunette hair curled at the ends, and framed her face nicely. Her blue eyes widened when she saw Geralt walk into the kitchen.

“You must be Geralt!” she beamed with a smile almost identical to Jaskier’s. She rushed forward and hugged him. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Mom!” Jaskier huffed, “Geralt doesn’t like being touched.”

She gasped and pulled away, “I’m sorry dear. I forget myself sometimes.”

Geralt blushed and shook his head, “It’s fine.”

She clicked her tongue as she shook her head, “It’s not fine. I need to work better on my boundaries. I hope I didn’t bother you too much.”

Jaskier leaned on Geralt, hanging over him like a backpack, “He’s fine! Dad, is dinner almost ready? Can Geralt join us?”

Mrs. Pankratz clapped her hands excitedly, “Yes! He should join us! Geralt would you like to have dinner with us?”

“Lilia,” Mr. Pankratz’s tone was firm. “I’ve already talked to his mother. He’s having dinner with us and then we’ll take him home.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Lilia placed a hand on her hip. She smiled at Geralt, “That’s wonderful. Alfred is a good cook.”

Geralt’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. He was excited to spend more time with Jaskier. Jaskier poked his cheek as he continued to lean against him, “Is that cool?”

Geralt nodded, smiling, “Yes, thank you.”

~~~

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~~~

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[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 17

Previous Chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

word count: 2773

_________________________________________________

There was an unease in the air as they all gathered around the fire for breakfast. It felt like something big was about to happen, she just didn’t know what it was yet. Dove perched herself on top of a bucket and was beginning to shovel eggs into her mouth as Glenn cleared his throat. She turned; an eyebrow raised as she looked at her friend.

“So, guys,” Glenn trailed off for a moment. “There’s walkers in the barn.” Dove’s heart sank to her stomach as she dropped her fork back to her plate. A quick glance around the fire showed everyone was about as shocked as she was.

“Well, c’mon then. Show us,” Shane’s harsh voice broke the silence. Dove didn’t want to move from the spot she was in, but it didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. T-Dog stood up from next to her and offered her his hand. She rolled her eyes as she accepted the help to stand.

“I don’t know why we all have to go look,” Dove whispered to Carol as she tugged at the hem of her shirt. “Why would Glenn make that shit up?”

Carol shook her head, “I don’t know.” Carol grabbed her sister’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

Glenn was telling the truth, as expected and Shane was not happy about it in the slightest. “This is Hershel’s land! We’re guests here,” Rick began to argue as Glenn tried to calm the two men down.

“We can’t just sweep this under the rug,” Andrea piped up.

“It ain’t right. Not remotely,” Shane agreed.

Dove shook her head as she put a comforting arm around Carol. “No one’s saying it’s right, Shane. Not a soul is but think about it. If Hershel’s keeping them in the barn, there has to be a reason behind it.”

Shane shook his head as he began to pace, “Don’t really care what the reason is. We’ve either got to make things right or we’ve just got to go. Now we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time.”

A mix of anger and panic surged through Dove. Shane was a selfish, arrogant bastard, and now he wanted to leave without Sophia.

“We can’t leave,” Rick spoke up. But that still wasn’t good enough for Shane.

“Sophia’s still out there,” Carol stepped forward, out of Dove’s grasp. “I’m not leaving without her.” Dove chewed nervously on her thumbnail as Daryl walked up beside her.

“I think it’s time that we all just start to consider the other possibility,” Shane tried to keep his voice steady.

Dove dropped her hands to her sides and chewed on the inside of her cheek before she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “What other possibility? The possibility that you didn’t give two shits about finding Sophia in the first place? Because I’ve already considered that possibility,” she hissed at the deputy.

Shane didn’t seem phased at all, though. “Now you listen, bird. We’ve been looking for her since day one, so don’t come at me with that.”

Dove huffed, “Daryl’s been looking is what I think you mean. Rick’s been looking, but you never seemed too dead set on it from the start. So sorry if I’m not fully buying what you’re selling.” Carol shot Dove a panicked glance; it was enough to make the younger woman back down as Rick stepped up.

“We’re not leaving Sophia behind,” Rick stated.

Daryl spoke up next as he began to pace, “I’m close to finding this girl! I just found her damn doll two days ago.”

Shane let out a short laugh and Dove thought about throwing a shovel at his head. “You found her doll, Daryl. That’s what you did. You found a doll.”

“He found the doll; Sophia has to be close by. Right,” Dove was beginning to feel like she was grasping at straws and she didn’t like that feeling. Not one bit. She knew there was a possibility that Sophia was dead, she’d just never thought on it too much. She was an educated woman, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be superstitious. Dove felt like if she thought about Sophia being dead too much, it might be something that came into existence.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Shane,” Daryl shouted as he stepped forward. Dove and Carol were right behind him as he swung an arm at Shane. Dove placed a hand on Daryl’s arm for a moment as he lowered his arm. A quick glance between them said enough, they were all growing tired and wary of Shane.

“I’m just saying what needs to be said. You get a good lead, it’s in the first 48 hours,” Shane explained.

“Shane, stop,” Rick pleaded as Carol began to tear up.

Dove turned her attention to her sister. “Don’t listen to him, Carol. Look at me, we’re gonna find her,” Dove trailed off as Shane began to shout once again.

“Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming, all methed out with your buck knife and your geek ears around your neck? She would run in the other direction,” Shane shouted.

Carol brought both of her hands up to her mouth as Daryl took a real swing at Shane. Rick tried his best to block the two men from each other and Dove could feel the adrenaline pumping in her veins as she stepped forward. She reached out her hand and caught Daryl’s arm in mid-swing. “Stop it,” Dove shouted over the chaos at Shane. Daryl was stronger than he looked, even recovering from an injury and he broke out of her grasp, like a bloodhound that had caught a scent and continued to go after Shane.

Dove shoved herself in between Rick and Daryl. “Leave it,” she hissed at the redneck as she gave him a sharp shove backwards. Daryl’s blue eyes went wide as he stumbled back a step towards Carol. “Shane’s trying to make you look like a piece of shit and you’re better than that,” she whispered as Rick managed to get Shane to retreat.

“She’s right,” Carol nodded in quiet agreement.

Shane was like a rampaging lunatic and for the first time since everything started, Dove felt true fear. “Just let me talk to Hershel,” Rick tried to reason with his friend. “I have to talk to him about it no matter what. We stay, we clear the barn, but I have to talk him into it! This is his land.”

Dale stepped up, a hand raised in the air. “Hershel sees though things in there as people.” Dove ran a hand through her hair as she tried to process the fact that Hershel thought the people in his barn were still alive. “Sick people. His wife, his stepson.”

“You knew,” the betrayal was obvious in Rick’s voice.

“Yesterday I talked to Hershel,” Dale explained calmly.

“And you waited the night,” Shane rounded on the old man.

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she turned and faced towards the fields behind her. She just felt sick about everything. She tried to focus on the fact that there were walkers on the barn, but she could only think of two things. One, Shane thought Sophia was dead. And two, Shane was becoming less and less stable by the day.

Her thoughts were cut off as loud growls began to leave the barn. A shiver ran down her spine as she grabbed Carol’s arm and began backing up. “How many of those fucking things are in there,” she whispered to Carol.

Carol shook her head quickly, “Too many…”

~

Dove didn’t know what to do with herself when she got back to camp. Her nerves were shot, and she felt like she just wanted to run. She couldn’t even say where she wanted to run too, but she didn’t want to be here. The walkers in the barn pushed her over the edge.

“Hey,” a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She twitched nervously before she turned her attention to the man who spoke.

“Can I help you,” she responded coolly.

“I just…I wanted to talk to someone from your group,” Julian lowered his voice as he knelt next to her. “I know that you guys are supposed to leave after you find your niece.”

“We might not,” Dove responded quickly as she glanced quickly towards the barn.

“I wanna come with you guys when you leave,” Julian interrupted. Dove’s eyebrows shot up.

“Why would you wanna do that? Isn’t your family here,” Dove inquired.

Julian shook his head. “No, I…” He sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face. “My sister and I were trying to get to Atlanta when everything went down. Barely made it any further than that traffic jam you guys said you got stuck in from how backed up it was. Everything went to shit, people panicked. We got separated. I ran here because my parents were friends with Hershel. It’s stupid, but it’s the first place I thought of that wouldn’t lead me right into a herd of panicking people.”

Dove stared at the younger man; hazel eyes scanned him as she tried to think of anything to say. “Sorry about your sister.”

“That’s why I wanna go with you guys. I think she’s still out there,” Julian explained, and Dove opened her mouth to reply before she squinted into the distance. People were walking towards the stables and she didn’t have to look hard to see that her sister was one of them.

“Like I said,” Dove spoke again as she rose to her feet. “Sorry about your sister, but I’m not in charge here. Talk to Rick,” she called over her shoulder as she took off at a slow jog towards her sister.

Dove picked up the pace as she didn’t hear any noise coming from the stable and when she got close enough, she realized what was happening. Carol had followed Daryl to try and stop him. He was going to get himself killed. “We don’t know if we’re gonna find her, Daryl. I don’t,” Carol spoke, and Dove felt like a dagger entered her heart.

“What,” Daryl spoke quietly as Dove peeked around the corner. She didn’t want to be noticed right now.

“Can’t lose you too,” Carol said. Dove took a deep breath and leaned her head against the warm wood of the stable. Carol cared too much about other people for her own good; hell, maybe they both did. Dove jumped at the sudden noise of things being thrown inside.

“Just leave me be,” Daryl’s tone was harsher now and Dove flinched. “Stupid bitch,” Daryl growled as he walked out of the stable. He didn’t even see Dove as he passed her. She watched for a moment as he stomped off towards the trees before she turned and looked into the stable.

Carol stood there with tears streaming down her face, but the second she saw Dove, she began to wipe them away quickly. “What are you doing here,” Carol’s voice cracked.

Dove stepped further into the barn until she was able to embrace her sister. Carol shuddered as she tried to hold back a sob. “Carol, talk to me.” Dove stroked Carol’s back as she tried to soothe her.

“I tried to stop him from going to look for Sophia. He already got so hurt looking for her. He’s a good person, Dove. We can’t lose him too,” Carol wiped her eyes again. “Not after Jacqui. Not after Sophia.” Dove felt another wave of sadness wash over her at the thought of Jacqui. She didn’t realize that she missed the older woman, she tried not to think about it too much. Dove didn’t want to fall down a slippery slope that would take her a long time to crawl out of.

Dove squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Listen, it’s not gonna happen.” She shook her head.

Carol sniffled and pulled away from her sister. “You saw what Shane did today. What do you think would’ve happened if the two of them actually fought? Shane’s strong, we all saw him put him in that chokehold back at camp.” Dove wrinkled her nose. “What if…” Carol trailed off.

Dove wiped her hands on the front of her shirt before she tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling of the stables. “I’m gonna go find him,” Dove decided.

Carol spoke up, “Wait…”

“Listen, he still needs to get shit for calling you a dumb bitch,” she planted her feet on the ground and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Carol just stared at her younger sister before the brunette disappeared out of the stables.

Dove squinted against the sun as she walked towards the direction that she had last seen Daryl in. She didn’t expect what she saw. Dove stayed quiet as she reached down to untie her shoelaces. The brunette peeled her socks off her feet before she quietly stepped forward. Dove sighed as she lowered herself to sit on the dock next to the redneck.

“What do you want,” Daryl’s voice was quiet. She didn’t expect that either.

“Well, I came out here to tell you that I really don’t appreciate you calling my sister a stupid bitch, but it’s really peaceful out here. Don’t know if I wanna ruin it,” she shrugged her shoulders as she moved her feet back and forth in the water.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Daryl spoke again. “She said that she doesn’t know if we’re gonna find Sophia. Got real mad I guess.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do it again. She got enough of that shit from Ed, ya know.” Dove shook her head, “The truth is, we don’t know if we’re gonna find Sophia alive or dead. We’re gonna find her, just a matter of when. It’s just Shane getting into her head because she’s stressed out and he got her all frazzled.” Daryl grunted in response as Dove turned to face him. “She means well. Carol does, I mean. She just…worries about you I guess.”

Daryl huffed as he kicked at the water, “Don’t need anyone worryin about me.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Because once Carol decides to worry about something, she basically makes it her job.” Dove nodded her head. “I mean if mothering was an Olympic sport, she would have several gold medals,” Dove chuckled and she noticed the corner of Daryl’s lip twitch up in a light smile.

It was gone before she could say anything, but he turned to look at her. “I’m sorry I haven’t found her yet.”

Dove furrowed her brow as she turned slightly. She pulled one of her feet out of the water and pulled her knee up to her chest as she faced the older man. “Hey,” she hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Daryl flinched slightly but didn’t make a move to jerk away. “I meant what I said before. You’re better than Shane. Better than half of the people that I knew before this whole thing went down, actually.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Don’t need you lyin to me to make your case, Dove.”

“Shane’s losing his shit out here, man. And if he loses it and kills someone? If he kills you after all the shit we’ve been through over the past few weeks?” Dove clenched her teeth and shook her head.

Daryl scoffed and spoke again as he turned away from her, “Nothing’s gonna happen. I…” He stopped mid-sentence and pulled both of his feet out of the water.

“Hey, what?” Dove frowned as Daryl grabbed her lightly by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “Where are we going,” Dove tried her best to keep up with him before he came to a stop. He released her arm and she followed his gaze towards the edge of the pond. Her jaw dropped.

“Look. Wait right here,” he said as he began to pull his socks and shoes back on.

“Where are you going?” Dove questioned, not looking away from the bush.

“Goin to get your sister. I’ll be right back,” then Daryl was gone.

Dove had always been one to find comfort in nature, but she never felt more at peace than she did as she stood there and waited for them to return. If the story that Daryl had told them had any truth to it, then that bush of Cherokee roses had definitely bloomed for Sophia.

__

@crossbowking​ @momc95​ @chaotic-gary-king-stan​

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (5/6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  (@geraskier-trashh​ @negativenuggetz​)

A/N: oh lord this wasn’t supposed to be 3k words long XD Hope you like it tho!

***

It was a bad idea to tell Geralt not to wear all black. Well, the scarf is grey and the coat and the shoes are black, but they don’t matter. Geralt’s just taken them off to reveal a three-piece suit and a shirt with two top buttons undone, the clothing in a deep, navy blue colour. His eyes stand out beautifully against it. Geralt in navy blue makes Jaskier want to weep and it’s only half-past noon. To add to Jaskier’s tragic swoon, Geralt’s hair is braided away from his face into a lovely plait at the back of his head (which Jaskier suspects is Ciri’s doing). It just shouldn’t look as good as it does. Geralt is so stunning today that words other than what the fuck do not begin to cover it.

Not to blurt out that in lieu of a greeting, Jaskier spreads his arms wide and exclaims, “Ahoy, captain!”

Geralt snorts with disgust. “Never say that again.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Come in, come in,” he says as he ushers Geralt into the living room, “make yourself at home. Are you hungry? It’s last chance for a snack before I put on some eyeliner and we’re off!”

“Eyeliner?” Geralt repeats with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, to finish off this look!” he replies as he gestures at the floral Gucci suit he’s wearing. The outfit’s actually demure considering his usual fashion choices. Bright colours and ridiculous patterns are his go-to but today is the first day of his life when he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Much. “Help yourself with something from the kitchen if you want,” he says over his shoulder, already leaving for the bathroom.

The makeup takes just a minute or two – eyeliner application has become much less of dark magic with practice. He decides to put on some pretty pink lip gloss as well because, although he’s going to spare his family today and won’t flaunt his queerness at them, he still has to do something. It’s not at all because he hopes his fiancé might like it.

(Geralt’s suit)

(Jaskier’s suit)

When he strides into the living room, he poses like a model and asks, “How do I look?”

Geralt, who sits on the couch, stares him up and down. His gaze almost makes Jaskier blush, so does his smirk. Both border on appreciative. “Really good,” he says.

Since Jaskier expected some mean comment, he almost topples over in shock at the compliment. He sputters, definitely flushing a bit, but quickly re-establishes a working link between his mouth and his brain. “Of course I do, darling,” he replies with a wink. Geralt smirks in that sexy way again. Jaskier has to give himself a good mental shake to stop staring. Clearing his throat, he starts thinking out loud, “So! Have I got everything for the party? I’ve got Geralt, and then the present, and then... Ah! The rings!”

Jaskier sits down next to Geralt and pulls the box out of the pocket of his jacket. Raising the lid, he reveals two rings seated within, one silver and one gold. “Should I kneel?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier laughs with delight, then takes out the silver ring and passes it to Geralt. It’a simple but chunky band with tiny engravings. Jaskier figured Geralt wouldn’t appreciate anything too showy. Geralt takes it and inspects what’s engraved on it. “What kind of flowers are those?” he asks.

“Buttercups,” Jaskier explains, “That’s what my name means. My grandma always told me I’m a jaskier.”

Pretty but poisonous. It’s extremely fitting.                                    

Geralt only hmms and slides the ring on his finger. It’s a perfect fit but it’s no thanks to Jaskier’s genius deduction or anything; he simply knew Geralt’s ring size because Geralt told him. After their phone conversation regarding ring preferences, family drama and other things, they kept talking. Geralt even began starting conversations by himself – he’d send some texts about Ciri like “Ciri says hi” or “Ciri’s playing that song again”. It made Jaskier melt every time.

“Look what you bought me in return, darling,” he says, smiling excitedly, and puts on the gold ring. It’s much more flashy than Geralt’s – a signet with a three-dimensional head of a wolf. “White Wolf” is apparently Geralt’s nickname and a pseudonym of sorts. Wolves are his favourite animals, too.

Jaskier holds out his hand, putting it next to Geralt’s on the couch, and admires the rings on their fingers. “They suit us,” he says quietly

Geralt hmms. “They do.”

The drive is two hours long. Geralt insisted on driving even though it’s Jaskier’s car. Jaskier has a suspicion that driving is an excuse not to listen to him as he’s going over the essential family drama, but it’s mostly for his own sake anyway. He just wants to delude himself that Geralt will be well-prepared for everything and all will go smoothly. They will be fine. They must.

When they pull up in front of Jaskier family’s mansion, panic and second thoughts wash over him alternately in cold and hot waves. As they walk out of the car and Geralt hands him the keys, Jaskier hides within himself and observes the reality unravel a sense of detachment. He doesn’t want to be a part of the upcoming disaster.

“Ready?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier only looks at him helplessly. Geralt offers him his arm and Jaskier takes it like a lifeline. He clutches on it, the touch grounding him, as they walk towards the front door silently.

“Should’ve guessed you were rich,” Geralt remarks as he takes in the mansion looming before them.

“My success in music is all my own,” Jaskier replies feistily, “it took me ten years.”

Geralt wisely doesn’t say anything else and Jaskier settles down, letting out a shaky breath. He always gets very defensive of his achievements. Sis parents paid for nothing; he never asked them to. He hates that people assume differently.

The entrance hall is empty when they invite themselves in, but not for long. Just as they manage to take off their coats, they hear someone coming down the stairs. Jaskier looks up to see Rozalia, his older sister. She’s only one year older than him but doesn’t look a day over thirty. In appearance, she’s all mum: luxuriant dark locks, cat-green eyes, tan skin, and regal features.

“Julek!” she exclaims with a smile and rushes down the stairs into Jaskier’s open arms. They laugh when their bodies collide.

“Hey, horror sister!” Jaskier says, the words their special greeting.

“Hey, wild brother!” Rozalia replies, as tradition commands.

When Jaskier releases her from his embrace, he goes on to introduce Rozalia and Geralt to each other.

“So this is your fiancé,” Rozalia drawls after she and Geralt shake hands, clearly amused, and looks Geralt up and down. “Holy shit. I can see why you kept him a secret.”

Jaskier purses his lips, putting a possessive arm around Geralt’s waist. “Roza, you’re married.”

Rozalia only smirks, then turns on her heel and starts walking down the corridor towards the living room. “Everyone! Julek’s here!” she announces loudly.

“Julek?” Geralt mutters to Jaskier as they start following Rozalia.

“Diminutive of Julian,” Jaskier explains quietly.  

“Sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Jaskier snorts under his breath but doesn’t reply. The sensation of detachment from the reality is there again and Jaskier doesn’t fight it – the distance between him and everything else wards off the impending panic attack.

Like in a dream, he sees his other sister Amelia, who’s five years younger than him, marching towards them, her mop of short golden curls bouncing up and down as she walks. With her sweet face and wide blue eyes (just like Jaskier’s, which they both got from their dad), she looks like an angel. (Spoiler alert: she’s not. She can be the worst. That’s kind of the youngest’s privilege, though).

When Amelia hugs him and Jaskier introduces her and Geralt to each other, he’s still in a daze. Amelia walks on his side as they all enter the living room, chatting about something to him, but he doesn’t really hear it due to the ringing sound in his ears.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles.

Jaskier looks into the sun-like, concerned eyes. The warmth calms him down. 

He takes in everyone in the room: his parents, Alfred and Wanda. Amelia, Rozalia and her husband Silvio. Dad’s brother, uncle Konrad, with his wife and son Ferrant. Mum’s sisters, aunts Maria, Hanna and Anna with their husbands. All watching Jaskier and Geralt expectantly.  

Jaskier puts on his best smile and lays a hand on the small of Geralt’s back. “Everyone, this is Geralt Rivia. A Royal Navy commander,” he says and observes, delighting in the array of shocked reactions his family display. “My fiancé,” he adds with pride that he doesn’t even have fake.

A round of introductions follows. Geralt shakes everyone’s hands and says nice things like “honoured to meet you finally”, “Jaskier told me so much about you” and “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you earlier”. It’s actually pretty convincing, Jaskier has to give him that. Still, it doesn’t stop one of the questions Jaskier dreads the most.

“But why didn’t you tell us anything, darling?” his mum asks as everyone sits down at the table in the dining room.

This is it, Jaskier thinks mournfully, this is when it all goes to hell. At least Geralt sits next to him. It would be a quick departure – Jaskier will just grab his fiancé and run out of the house.

“Exactly,” Amelia seconds, her slender arms crossed before her chest, “it isn’t like you. You would tell the whole world about your engagement in some wild Twitter thread.”

Shit. She got him there. “W-well, I...”

“I asked him not to,” Geralt comes to the rescue. At the confused looks from everyone around, he goes on, “Not until I go on at least one more deployment and Jaskier’s absolutely sure he wants this. He should have it easier in case he changes his mind. Fewer people know about it, less painful it is to announce.”

Jaskier’s dad frowns. “But why do you assume he’d do that?” he inquires, regarding Geralt with suspicion.

“Being in a relationship with a marine officer is hard,” Geralt replies with a heavy sigh and makes a dramatic pause. Jaskier’s family looks at him with almost bated breath but he takes his time, the bastard. He already has them hanging off his every word. “My deployments are rarely shorter than nine months long,” he confesses ruefully.

A stunned silence falls over the room. Jaskier’s family stare at him with disbelief – they all know Jaskier wouldn’t be able to survive a relationship like that, not with how needy he can be.

Of bloody course Geralt would take it too far at the very start.

“But I’m stubborn!” Jaskier exclaims as cheerfully as he can, “Won’t have anyone else but Geralt.”

“Well, that’s all you,” Amelia says, and Jaskier heaves a sigh of relief.

It’s not that Jaskier doesn’t appreciate Amelia’s inquisitive mind. She’s always had the tendency to analyze and look into everything until every fact and detail adds up. Her character makes her the perfect heir to the family business, which she’s agreed to gladly. Ever since she made that decision, Jaskier choosing music is much less of a painful topic for their family. And so, Jaskier certainly values his younger sister’s nature of constant question-asking, but not in moments like this.

Amelia appears to already know what is going on here and Jaskier only prays she’ll be nice enough not to delve into it too much. Maybe some warning glances from Rozalia and begging ones from Jaskier will stop her. Maybe.

Food is served, alcohol starts flowing. Jaskier’s family begin asking Geralt about himself but Jaskier always tries to twist the conversation so that questions about their relationship don’t come. Until they do.

After they sang dad happy birthday, told him their wishes and gave him the gifts, it’s time to eat the birthday cake. Just when Jaskier puts half of his slice on Geralt’s plate (he doesn’t even like cake), Silvio asks, “When did you two meet?”

Geralt and Jaskier share a look. Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but it’s Geralt who says, “It was two years ago. I walked into a bar where Jaskier was playing. He asked me for a review of his songs after his performance.”

Geralt has the audacity to smirk at him so Jaskier, just to be a little shit, adds, “In three words or less!”

Geralt doesn’t appreciate this contribution judging by how he narrows his eyes at him. Jaskier knows they’re treading a dangerous ground – in their stupidity, they didn’t discuss the details of their “first meeting”. Geralt started it, though.

“And what did you say?” Silvio questions.

“That they don’t exist,” Geralt replies without a beat, still staring Jaskier in the eye.

“Whaaat don’t exist?” Jaskier’s father says what Jaskier himself almost blurts out.

“The creatures in his songs,” Geralt explains.

The affronted noise that leaves Jaskier's mouth is beyond his control. “It’s folk! The genre allows for fantastical elements like that!” He huffs. “But you know, Geralt with his commander mind always wants the facts and only facts.”

“So you don’t like Julek’s singing?” Rozalia asks Geralt.

Geralt denies this with a shake of his head. “Jaskier sings beautifully,” he replies, “Like a siren.” He lays his hand on Jaskier’s and looks into Jaskier’s eyes. “My siren,” he adds quietly.

Jaskier has to gape a little. He barely restrains himself from mouthing are fucking serious? because, really, Geralt can’t just say things like that. When he regains his composure, he decides to be mean. “I told you not to call me that, dear heart,” he says, “Not exactly flattering. Sirens lured sailors to their demise.”

Geralt does that lethally adorable head tilt and answers, “Still would go for you.”

He can hear aunt Maria cooing in the background, bless her heart, but Jaskier almost doesn’t register it. His attention is fully on Geralt – there’s something new in his gaze, beneath the teasing glint. Something guarded, tentative and true. Jaskier cocks his head to the side just a little bit. Geralt notices the question in the gesture (they’re really getting good at reading each other, aren’t they?) and answers by raising an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Jaskier experiences the feeling of a thousand butterflies fluttering their wings in his stomach when he understands – it’s an invitation. He accepts.

Geralt’s lips stretch into a small smile and he squeezes Jaskier’s hand on the table, intertwining their fingers together. Jaskier’s heart almost gives out and he grins, giddy like a teenager who’s just found out their crush is reciprocated. It’s not that far off from the truth anyway.

Uncle Konrad asks Geralt about the Navy. The two of them start discussing working in the army but Jaskier only half-listens, too focused on cherishing the feel of Geralt’s palm engulfing his. Until Geralt takes his hand away, that is.

With a displeased grunt, Geralt takes his phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket. The screen displays an incoming call. “I should take this,” he says apologetically and quickly walks out of the dining room.   

The moment Geralt leaves, the assault is unleashed upon Jaskier. His family bombard him with so many questions and remarks at once that he only hears what Rozalia sitting next to him says. “Didn’t know you were into older men,” she comments, swirling the wine in her glass innocently.

“He’s forty!”

She frowns. “Then what’s the deal with the hair?”

Jaskier freezes in panic. Fucking hell, what is the deal with the hair? He has no idea. Geralt refused to answer his questions. “W-well,” he stutters out, “it’s really... uhh...” He clears his throat. “Not my story to tell. Geralt doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Rozalia hums, an amused twinkle in her eyes. “How mysterious.”

“He sure does seem mysterious,” uncle Konrad chimes in, “And...”

“Quiet?” Ferrant suggests.

“Taciturn?” Silvio supplies.

“Closed off?” aunt Hanna adds.

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” Jaskier cuts in, interrupting this merry-go-round offering of adjectives before it spirals into everyone calling Geralt a brute.

“It’s not,” aunt Anna reassures, “It’s just that... I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering how on earth the relationship is even working with him being like this and you being, well...” she trails off and gestures at Jaskier with her fork. “You.”

“Frist off, I’ll take this as a compliment –”

“Of course, dear.”

“ – and secondly, even though we’re different, our differences only keep things... interesting, if you get my meaning.” Jaskier throws in a telling wink, and his uncles chuckle.

“Julian!” both his parents cry out, scandalised.

“Honestly,” Jaskeir goes on, unmoved, “deep down, he and I are quite the same.”

“Indeed?” Amelia asks, “Is he also a bastard at heart?”

“Yesss!” he hisses out, wildly pleased. Sometimes he loves Amelia’s analytic mind.

“He actually seems like a sweetheart,” his mum says, warming Jaskier to his very heart. He loves his mum so much – she always sees the best in people.  

“He’s both, really,” he replies, “He’s certainly a sweetheart to his daughter.” Jaskier delights in shocking his family once again. Then, an idea pops up in his mind, “If you ask him about her, he’ll open right up.”

Before anyone can ask anything else, Geralt returns. After taking one look at him, Jaskier knows something is wrong. There’s tension about him but his face is a blank mask. 

“Something wrong, love?” Jaskier whispers, barely realising that he even said the endearment.

“Work,” Geralt grunts.  

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s father says, “Julian tells us you have a daughter?”

Geralt face lights up immediately. It’s such a charming sight. Jaskier’s chest constricts with how everything in him screams and begs don’t ever go. 

“Yes,” he answers and launches into talking about Cirilla – how old she is, where she goes to school, what she likes doing. How she loved to paint her little hands on the walls when she was six. Soon after that, everyone shares funny stories about children, either their own or themselves as kids.

Jaskier zones out a bit, too busy wondering why Geralt took his hand away when he reach for it.

Later, Jaskier’s parents invite Geralt to stay for the night, which makes the fake-fiance scheme a success; they wouldn’t allow someone who they thought to be a stranger to sleep in their house.

Geralt doesn’t take them up on their offer.

TBC

Part 6

***

A/N: Rozalia is the Horror while Jaskier is the Wild 💕 (Amelia is the nasty angel baby. They adore her for it. Must protecc).

(Also, I love making up OCs, can you tell? XD)