#I’d hate to never see them ever again after this shit season… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fudgebuggyy · 23 days ago

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✥ The Integral of Us ✥

Pairing: Jayce/ Viktor , Male!OC/Jayce/Viktor

Rating: Mature

Word count: 9k - 2/3 Chapters

Tags: No Hextech AU, Bilgewater lore, married Jayce/Viktor, bearded!Jayce, longhaired!Viktor, Original Character POV, dynamic: married couple adopts little shit

Isak's attention zeroes in on the framed photographs at eye level. One in particular stands out, even in the dark. It’s yellowed with age. Two men grin excitedly, dressed in purple robes and caps as if for a ceremony, faces round with youth, one tall and broad and tawny-skinned, the other slender, elegant, eyes bright as crucibles.

The ears. The cane. The mole above the right-hand corner of his mouth—

✥ ✥ ✥

When two Piltovian toolmakers open up a workshop in Rat Town (of all places) named Coin & Crank (dreadfully), it gets slopped in fish guts and ransacked within a week. A Piltovian’s stubbornness should’ve come with little surprise, and when they rebuilt, the only reason it wasn’t burnt to the ground was thanks to word getting out that the last ransackers fled the Coin & Crank with permanent brain damage.

(Also, look, they're super fucking hot and all the local twinks are having an existential crisis.)

Isak doesn’t see the man again.

Historically, his reserves for luck last long enough to snatch some smoked meats at the market while the vendor’s not looking, a bed for the night, a bath at a brothel. The rest is chickenshit. Isak’s used to the chickenshit: Lovely day, you say? Watch out for the debt collector who’s been running up and down Rat Town for the past two weeks searching for your scrawny penny-less ass because you tossed all your coin at the wrong razorfin down in the betting dens!

He doesn’t mourn much.

Selis has barred him from ever working at the Canary again (“If I wanted to run a rowdy whorehouse, I’d be down in Squidrow!”), and while Danni still loves him, she didn’t bother hiding her disappointment (“I love you, Isak. You are a disappointment, Isak.”).

Isak doesn’t see the man again.

✥ ✥ ✥

Life goes on: an odd job here, an odd job there, followed by wasting all his coin on soggy cigarettes and buckets of terrible ale. He asks Fat Joe for some gold to bet on another razorfin fight. Predictably. He bets on the wrong razorfin. Predictably.

It turns out Fat Joe’s new arm can give you the kind of concussion that leaves you blind for a day.

Isak doesn’t see the man again.

(Predictably.)

✥ ✥ ✥

Not even a month later and Danni has lost interest in her Noxian. She’s swept off her feet by some one-eyed mercenary named Nova (because Danni stores all her luck in her massive tits). She disappears the way she does when she gets sucked into the whirlpool of men or women who promise to take her far away from here, leaving Isak a note at whatever squalid inn he happens to be squatting at.

They’re the alley cats after all, and if opportunity strikes, offering a warm meal and an even warmer bed for the night, you take it, you fend for yourself. Down here, it’s you against anyone and everyone else; even those you don’t hate that much.

Isak's only bitter about it because he, on the other hand, is never swept away by any whirlpools of men or women; he gets blue-balled and tossed off laps after five minutes of conversation.

He tries not to think of the man in the Canary, tries not to think about how he still remembers his name. Tries not to think about the mole above his mouth, or his accent, or his eyes, or his perfectly shaped ears, or his mysterious lover, tries not to imagine they’ve found someone else, some pliable little chumrat who doesn’t know how to suck a man off to save a life.

It secretly devastates him enough he persuades Fat Joe to lend him some more coin before he stumbles down to the betting deans, high off the delusion that maybe, just maybe, there’s a bored god amongst the sea of them, who thinks, maybe, just maybe, he can let this rascal win.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t so terribly that when the monsoon season arrives at the Serpent Isles, it hits like a battering ram: blackened skies, torrential rains, winds that peel the tin roofs off the shacks in the bay.

The waters are too treacherous to be ventured into, rendering all serpents around the isles un-slaughtered and all dockworkers scrambling for the few jobs left like dogs snarling over a bone. Trade slows with no merchant vessels able to dock, meaning the city goes uncharacteristically quiet.

Even though such seasons come around twice a year, Isak never prepares for them properly.

Like clockwork, he loses his bed and board at another inn after this week’s payment falls short, which isn’t so terrible considering he was sharing a room with some struggling bard who kept trying to touch him in his sleep.

With Guppy on one arm and an old flour sack with their belongings on the other, he sets out to the only place they’ll be left alone.

Isak likes to think of himself as an opportunist when need be, meaning hunkering down near the outskirts of Bilgewater’s graveyard is a sound decision.

White Wharf is where the casks woven to grave buoys are left to float, and the people of Bilgewater are a superstitious bunch—you don’t fuck with the dead—so other than the occasional scavenger, the dead are left alone and Isak can enjoy some peace and quiet for once.

He sets up shelter in one of the abandoned fishing huts near the rock, its roof and floorboards left relatively intact. It’s routine by now; he’s the nomad setting up his tent, making a home in whatever hole he manages to squeeze into.

The tarp slung over the ground, his mother’s jade charm hung above the ramshackle door to deter unwanted visitors, his little trinkets set up by the crooked window pane like a magpie lining its nest. His current favorite is the opal-crusted tin he stole from a cheating merchant’s wife in the Eyries. He keeps his baby teeth in it.

Isak gives most of the bread he stole from the temple offerings to Guppy. She burrows into his side, his horned ball of cotton. Yipping contently as he curls around her on the floor. Her heart-shaped belly rises and falls in the dark. Huffing, he pats it, that satisfying pap it makes. He rakes his fingers through her soft fur. She farts. He snorts. “Bless you,” he mumbles, curling around her for warmth, her soft squeals of delight.

Like this, things don't feel that bad. He’s not that hungry, and he’s not that exhausted, and he’s not that alone, and the rot in the planks doesn’t pinch at his nostrils so much, and he imagines this monsoon season will be over quickly. He can wish it almost like a prayer as he watches his mother’s jade charm swing back and forth above the door.

Isak doesn’t mourn much—except when he does, when he mourns everything and everyone, and her most of all.

✥ ✥ ✥

“You want the job or not?”

“You know, it’s thanks to them you can finger your asshole while you jerk off.” Isak ducks before Fat Joe’s mechanical arm whacks him into oblivion, yet again.

Arms lifted, Isak tries not to laugh. “I’m just saying! You seriously want to steal from the Tinkers? Don’t you think that’s shitty? Just objectively speaking?”

“Oh, you wanna to talk about objective shittiness? Remind me of how much you owe me? And then while you’re at it, go ahead and remind me of how much you’ve paid back since.”

“I’ve offered you, like...two handies! You can’t tell me I haven’t tried!” Isak lifts his arms, almost slipping on a puddle of ale as he backs up against the bar.

Because. Yeah. Point taken.

There really is no code of conduct in this shithole. The sad truth is that Isak owes Fat Joe just as much as Fat Joe owes someone else, and said someone else owes enough to someone who will likely lock them in a fishing crate lined with cannon shards and toss them into the bay. It’s a real depressing loop of the luck-less. And so Isak isn’t even that mad when Fat Joe pulls his usual half-baked threat: “Either you take the job, or I’ll demonstrate what this managed to do to a cantaloupe,” he lets the mechanical arm whirr, “and this time I’ll be using your head.”

Isak bites his tongue in hopes that’ll keep him from saying something supremely stupid, like how maybe Joe should stop saying stuff like that because it sounds an awful lot like he fucked the cantaloupe. Isak decides to stare at the half-eaten plate Joe left on the bar counter instead.

“Nothing specific, right?” he says to the potatoes.

“Just go the for shiny-looking shit.” Joe makes a show of pushing a potato to the grimy floor.

Shrugging, Isak shifts to pick it up. “Easy enough.”

“You brought rocks the last time.” Crushing the potato beneath his boot, Joe leans in close.

“They were painted gold!”

“Yellow algae powder, you fucking toad.”

“Damn, Joe, so you remember that but you still need to use your fingers to count—”

This time, Isak doesn’t duck fast enough.

✥ ✥ ✥

So Isak is good at being an opportunist; whore one night, drug mule the next, a barback, a scavenger, he’ll dig through serpent’s guts if someone told him it had swallowed a whole pirate’s loot.

And even though he makes a spectacular harlot, he makes an even better thief.

Small enough to squeeze through cracked windows and storm drains, a chimney once, and the places he can’t get to, Guppy can. There’s a terrible place in the afterlife reserved for assholes who teach their poros to crawl through pipes to open doors from the inside, to grab shiny little keys and toss bags of gold out open windows.

It’s quiet near the temple grounds, the artist’s quarter lined with herbalists and chemists, weaving houses and shops that sell jewelry made of bone coral. Every corner here has been blessed by the priestesses. When Danni still considered herself Buhru, she told him everything around the temple grounds has to be in alignment, it’s something to do with energies, patterns finding their balance, all that spiritual blah-blah. Only the chosen are allowed to stay here, and even fewer are allowed into the temple itself.

Ancient Buhru carvings ripple from the cliffside, they’re engraved in the wood of walkways, in window trims and doorframes. Images of waves, of Kraken tails, the sick and injured healed by the spirits. Bilgewater is for the superstitious, full of believers. They don’t mess with the dead and they most certainly don’t mess with the holy—and again, Isak is good at being an opportunist.

For a moment he settles into an alley across from the Coin & Crank. He scans its weathered timber facade, its mismatched windows, the clean Piltovian script etched into the signage above the door. He’s never seen it before, only pieced it together in his mind during the last talk he had with Fat Joe, who’d pulled some poor street urchin to watch the shop for a week. (“They’ve been closing early because of the weather. They turn off the lamps in the shop and head upstairs, ten o’clock on the dot. You just gotta watch out for the cripple. Sometimes he works at night—”)

Isak watches the rain hammer across the crooked roof before streaming onto a line of potted plants arranged beneath the storefront. A candle flickers behind the porthole on the second floor, big and round, the watchful gaze of a whale.

Lightning strikes.

He checks his pocket watch: It’s almost midnight.

When the thunder rolls into the bay, he moves. Guppy bolts ahead, her stubby legs dribbling through the puddles.

They make quick work of a back window, fiddling with the trap Joe warned them about. (“Place is booby-trapped as all hell!”—He repeated it often enough Isak’s sure he just enjoys hearing himself say booby.) They've broken into enough places to know their way around typical traps; counterweights and pulley systems, sets of spring-loaded clamps. But Isak quickly realizes the Tinkers are clever assholes. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to figure out they’ve set a decoy, and it takes him an even embarrassingly longer time to cajole Guppy into fiddling with the right mechanisms, trying to goad her with scraps of bread he keeps stuffed in his pockets to get her to listen. His cape is soggy with rain and sweat by the time Guppy has jammed the tip of his pocket knife into a set of hidden gears, stopping the mechanism long enough for Isak to squeeze through the window.

They stare at each other in silence, waiting for the satisfying click as the gears are jammed fully.

Easy.

“Good girl,” Isak mouths, giving Guppy a pat to her flank. She answers with a muted chortle.

Easy.

They move quickly. His messenger bag opened, Guppy crawling onto shelves and worktables, tossing trinkets that Isak snatches mid-air. They grab anything, everything, stray coins and brass-like cogs, gold-plated screws, glow stones glimmering apple-green in the dark. A shiny spyglass, a compass shaped like a flower. Guppy throws, Isak catches, they move like the inside of a watch. The two of them inching through the dark as the storm masks each clank inside their filling messenger bag.

Isak works his way across the wide worktables scattered with papers and prints and scraps and tools, ending at the shelves in the far back of the shop. They look thoughtfully arranged in presentation. Filled with books, their spines painted in swirling silver and gold, framed plaques, trophies flanked by paintings and photographs and a collection of objects that don’t look Piltovian: a silver acorn, a prayer bell with its geometric patterns painfully Targon, scarab amulets and white fur pouches, leftovers of what looks like a dagger hilt painted in Noxian red.

There’s so much.

Isak carefully glides his fingers over the treasures—because they are treasures, all of it, special the way only a bounty can be—thinking of the faraway places they must’ve come from. He stops at a comb propped up next to a set of photographs. The comb is made of wood, its dark stain, its swirling clouds and blossom patterns.

Ionia.

Isak reaches for it, eager as a child, and he presses it to his nose, unthinking, eyes closed as he inhales. Something huge and terrible wells in his stomach.

He hears Guppy trot towards the back of the shop. He opens his eyes, his attention zeroing in on the framed photographs at eye level. One in particular stands out, even in the dark. It’s yellowed with age. Two men grin excitedly, dressed in purple robes and caps as if for a ceremony, faces round with youth, one tall and broad and tawny-skinned, the other slender, elegant, eyes bright as crucibles.

The ears. The cane. The mole above the right-hand corner of his mouth—

Click.

Isak has had enough pistols cocked at his back to recognize the sound.

The comb clatters to the floor. His hands shoot up. The hood of his cape slips. Somewhere in the back of the shop Guppy squeals.

“Turn.” A man’s voice, low and liquid.

Isak does what he’s told.

He still remembers his name.

Does he remember his?

In the murky dark, Isak watches as Viktor’s face twists then loosens with something like recognition. His mouth opens. He wants to say something, anything. “I—”

“Vik!”

Another man’s voice bellows through the shop, coming from somewhere in the back. “I give up! Grab the next screwdriver and shatter my eardrums. I can’t sleep in this weather.” The man sputters a deep laugh. The creaking of wood, pounding of footsteps.

Isak’s mind clings to Guppy, somewhere, somewhere in the shop and the panic claws through him so quickly he almost doubles over. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

Viktor’s face smooths out. Isak can’t breathe.

Two things happen in quick succession: Viktor shuffles back and unlocks the door, shuffles forward, cane knocking across the floor as he stashes the pistol beneath the worktable beside him.

The lamps turn on, revealing Guppy frozen in the middle of the workshop, cowering low as she stares up at a mountain of a man. "Oh—How’d you get in here?” The man, the man from the picture, huge in the cramped workshop. Isak knows it’s him even with the beard, the longer hair. He hovers in the entrance to a hallway Isak hadn’t spotted in the dark.

For a second the man softens, staring down at Guppy whose usually twitching tail stands upright in shock.

And then things change.

The man stiffens, looks up, sees Viktor. Sees Isak.

The panic lashes out, zig-zags up his throat to punch him right under the chin. Vision swimming, just for a moment.

The glare in the man’s eyes is all Isak needs to know that he was the one who made sure the last ransackers never returned.

Get ready, get fucking ready—

Viktor clears his throat. “As I said, we’re closed.” They stare at him, his casualness, his voice steady like he’s picking up a conversation. Like his eyes weren’t blown with panic just moments ago, like Isak isn’t choking on breath. “Our opening hours are written on the sign outside. We can take a look at your hand another time.”

Viktor’s eyes flick to Isak’s fingers, resting on the messenger bag.

His fingers.

Did you notice at the Canary? When I was touching you, did you notice?

He can’t help but think of his eyes, what they looked like from up close, the thick fanning of lashes.

Big Man crosses the small space so fast Isak doesn’t have enough time to react, feels him loom as he stations himself between Isak and Victor.

Partner, Isak thinks. The Tinkers, like a surname, like a couple.

The man’s face mars with confusion as he half-turns towards Viktor. “Sorry, I thought I—No, I’m pretty sure I locked the door.”

Viktor shrugs. Isak stares at the worktable where the pistol is stashed. He thinks of all the other weapons hidden around the shop. Holy grounds or not, this is Bilgewater after all. Not that Big Man needs much to bash a head in.

Viktor shuffles past the guy, tapping his cane against a muscled calf. “Latch didn’t catch. I told you to fix it.”

“I fixed it.”

“Clearly.”

The man looks confused again, wary maybe, and he jerks back ready to argue. “No. No, I’m sure that I—”

“Again, as I said,” Viktor cuts him off and faces Isak fully, “thank you for your visit, but we are closed.”

Lightning strikes, its light cleaving between them before the thunder hits.

Guppy lurches into the air, scrambling around the shop and hitting her head on a table leg before she bumbles against Isak. She yips once and loud, and great, now she’s crying, and Isak can’t feel his legs as he drags her up, her stubby paws wheeling in the air as she desperately searches for purchase. She crawls up his chest, digs her wet nose into his neck, whining.

Isak is good at being an opportunist, except when he isn’t, and really, this is it, this is the chickenshit. And if he's being honest, he's too hungry to think straight, he's so fucking hungry he could sob from it, fold from it, and he’s tired. He’s so unfathomably exhausted he wants to open the messenger bag, flip it upside down, dig his knees into the floorboards and let these beautiful men kick him until his skull splits in two, and he can’t breathe anymore, he can’t breathe, and maybe, just maybe, just for a moment, that bored god amongst the sea of them will see this and think, hey, okay, this little harlot really isn't doing so well, maybe we can give him a break?

Will anyone out there just give him a fucking break?

Big Man stares at Guppy for so long even Viktor seems mildly confused.

Then Big Man stares at Isak, then back at Guppy, and then something in his face changes. It’s disorienting seeing someone of this size go from unthreatened to threatened to unthreatened again. Isak’s dizzy from the whiplash. His mouth is dry and his vision goes blurry, and he wants to press the heels of his hands into his eyes, tilt his head back like he’s trying to stop a nosebleed.

“Well.” Big Man clears his throat. “You must’ve come a long way.”

“Yes, and he can come a long way at a more appropriate time.” Viktor jerks his cane towards the door.

Big Man rests his hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “He’s not usually this charming. It’s the weather,” he says. “So, you're here because of your hand, is that right?” He looks at Isak’s fingers. Viktor looks at the messenger bag.

The messenger bag. Right. Shit.

“Uh, no, it—Yeah. But, you know, that’s—” Isak clears his throat. His voice wobbling and grating and unfamiliar. “That’s alright. I’ll—uh—head out.” Run? Should he just make a run for it? Toss himself from the next cliff perhaps? Best to just kill himself. “This was…” He nods. Guppy’s butt whacks him in the cheek as she tries to dig a hole into his neck. His focus zeroes in on the unlocked door. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll just—” He shuffles forward, tries to wedge himself past them. He’ll run, he’ll run.

“I’ll head out.”

“Good,” Viktor says, the handle of his cane hooking into the strap of the messenger bag, pulling.

“Nonsense.” Big Man grabs Isak by the shoulder, the messenger bag slipping from the handle, and he ushers Isak towards a worktable in one easy swoop. If Isak thought he had whiplash before, being manhandled this smoothly definitely did it.

Fuck—

“Sit.”

“Jayce.”

“We don’t charge for consultations.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

Isak feels like someone yanked his tongue out of his head. He can’t speak, can’t find the right thing to say, a desire he usually shoves to the bottom of any and all priorities.

Viktor and Big Man—Jayce— have a whole mumbled conversation: What else are we going to do? You’re telling me you’re going to sleep through that? Thunder shattering all around. Might as well do something useful.

Viktor’s brow cocks at a deadly angle, and what follows is an argument carried out with nothing but scrunched noses and eyebrows, which Jayce seems to win by a margin.

Isak sits, struck like a live wire, Guppy clawing at his neck like she’s trying to find a way inside of him.

What is happening right now?

What is happening?

“Alright, let me get the template boards.” Heading towards the hallway in the back, Jayce almost sounds...giddy.

“We haven’t had a single customer in days,” Viktor mumbles, more to himself than Isak. His stare feels like a slap to the face. It’s nothing like back at the Canary.

Isak must really be the unluckiest bastard on this floating pile of garbage.

Viktor nudges the chair so Isak faces him, his cane bullying itself between his legs. He feels for something on the handle, and with a click, the cane shoots up, revealing a blade digging into the floorboards like a splice. As Viktor leans in close the cane, almost sweetly, skims the edge of Isak’s inner thigh. Something hiccups through his throat. Spreads there on the roof of his mouth. Panic, panic and everything else.

“Did you follow me?”

“No, I—I didn’t know, I swear.”

“Have you been watching me?”

“Look, I promise,” Isak tries to swallow but everything in his throat has congealed, “this was just supposed to be some—”

“—terrible coincidence?”

Isak can’t muster an answer. He doesn’t like how Viktor chose the word terrible.

He must be easy enough to read because something in Viktor’s shoulders shifts, just a fraction. “I thought you didn’t do house visits.”

Isak can’t hold back a wheezy incredulous laugh. What the fuck?

“This isn’t our first monsoon season. I suppose I don’t blame anyone for trying. And I have to admit,” almost amused, “I’m impressed you got inside.”

“Wasn’t that hard.”

“Is that so?”

“Maybe, maybe next time—I don't know...hide the gearbox better.”

"It was underneath the floor." Viktor’s faces loses all humor. The cane presses into Isak’s thigh so hard his breath hitches. “You will not steal from us again. Is that understood?”

Viktor kicks the messenger bag underneath the worktable, a pretty Piltovian coin escaping and rolling across the floor before Viktor’s foot slams over it.

Isak swallows. He nods.

“Good.” Viktor seems to believe him. He softens again, and for a moment they look at each other.

He doesn't appear as put-together as he did at the brothel. His long wavy hair scraped into a sloppy ponytail, the collar of his shirt peeled open, his collarbone there, the fine swoop of his neck. Was he asleep before this? The both of them? In a bed upstairs? In the room with the round window and the candle?

Something hot and uncomfortable blooms in his stomach.

When Viktor finally leans back, Isak slumps back in the chair. He feels like a hand has loosened from his throat. He sits there in a pile of himself, bone atop bone atop muscle atop muscle.

He feels useless as he watches Viktor lock the shop doors, get a fire going in the hearth, useless as he stares at the strangely shaped wooden boards Jayce spreads out on the worktable once he returns.

Will Jayce not ask? Why Isak stumbled in here in the middle of the night assuming they were open? Will he not check the latch in the door? Pat him down? Will he not ask?

But Jayce settles on a chair opposite from him, calm as a manatee, and he does not ask.

Mercy doesn’t exist in a place like Bilgewater. It’s so foreign to Isak he can only think of it in the same vein he would miracles or sudden bouts of fortune. Luck so special it can’t possibly be real, even less so for thieves and liars. Luck so extraordinary it’s meant for kings.

There's this thing his body does sometimes—or maybe it’s his head, or his spirit, something complicated. He feels like he’s floating outside of himself, unlatching, unsticking, and he’s inches away and not fully inside, gazing down at each moment as it passes.

His hands are so cold they’re tinged gray beneath the worktop lamp, its long neck craned over his palm, his stumps where his fingers used to be. Joints so cold they're cramped together, arthritic, like a clam.

Viktor and Jayce—the Tinkers—they’re talking but Isak feels like he’s listening from the bottom of a murky tub.

May I? Someone asks, and he nods, and his hand is taken, pried apart so carefully, turned, touched, by thick nimble fingers. The dark hairs on those fingers, the scar running along a knuckle. The silver ring there.

They’re too small for our regular socket fits.

Small enough for a coil spring though.

Maybe adjust the anchor point here? A cool pale finger runs up the stumps of Isak’s own.

Long, steadfast, a pianist’s fingers, or a harpist’s, interrupted by knuckles like pods of poppyseed. The silver ring there.

There’ll be some harnessing necessary.

A strap that loops around the wrist like this, you see?

Too tight?

Too loose?

They discuss things like flexion and extension and circumference. There’s twine and there’s chalk, calipers, instruments that look like rulers.

Has his hand ever been prodded and poked at this much? Looked at this intensely? His ugly three-fingered crab claw.

He sees nothing but these strangers’ hands like creatures tenderly getting acquainted with his own, moving around each other like gears linking, linking, linking, linking—

We have an arrangement. The memory of Victor’s words from the Canary bubble up inside of him.

Isak stares at their matching silver rings. Pretty. Charming.

Have they found someone for their arrangement? Have they been busy arranging?

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, watching. He thinks someone asks him if he’s hungry, but he’s too outside of himself to know. And he doesn’t know if they asked out of politeness or because they were getting themselves something to eat anyways or if his hunger is somehow sitting on top of him, pearling out of his pores like sweat. He guesses he’s always hungry. Maybe he was born hungry, ravenous, gluttonous, terrible.

Then there’s bread and there’s cheese and there’s meat and apple slices.

He eats. Guppy eats. They inhale, shovel as much as they can into their mouths, stomachs like ravines.

The last time they had a full meal was in the betting dens three weeks ago. Or four?

He’s so warm all over. He’s so tired. His jaw aches from all the chewing and his mouth falls open, and he knows he’s saying things, and he wants to say everything, because he has no principles or sense of self-preservation or capacity for shame.

He’s speaking through a haze, from the bottom of this murky tub, bobbing in and out of conversation, unsure about who said what and if he even said anything out loud in the first place.

Freljordian, huh? That's Jayce. His voice is not as low as Viktor’s. It’s affirming and warm, like a shoulder squeeze. He has a voice for stories, for reading aloud, for speeches.

It makes things inside of Isak hum. He hums with it.

Part. My mother was from Ionia. Have you been? The comb on the shelf.

Couple of years back, yes.

We've been, hmm...three times?

Four.

You know that time didn't count. An inside joke.

We’re nomads of sorts. The acorn, the prayer bell, the scarab amulets, the pouches of white fur.

I guess I’m a nomad too.

They speak about everything, they speak about nothing in particular.

Viktor tells him they were scholars once, before they left.

Our old professor had a poro.

A poro in Piltover?

Well, I certainly didn't expect to see one here, of all places.

What are they made of, do you think?

Love. They’re made only of love.

Is that so?

It must be.

What’s his name?

Her name’s Guppy. She followed me here.

Followed you from where?

Everyone in Bilgewater was someone else before this, its impenetrable fog banks hiding you from the past, keeping you.

Sometimes it feels like existing in a vacuum.

Like the afterlife.

Yeah, kind of like that. Like the afterlife…

They speak about everything, they speak about nothing in particular.

From the bottom of his murky tub, Isak blinks and looks up and sees these two strange men at the surface. They're gazing at each other, talking. It’s that look before a kiss.

It's quiet now. The rain must've stopped.

✥ ✥ ✥

There is an extraordinary kind of luck reserved for kings. Isak decides to name it mercy.

#jayvik #jayce talis x viktor #jayce talis x male!original character #viktor x male!original character #jayvik fic #arcane #league of legends #eventual throuple #bilgewater #runeterra #the integral of us

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islandfate · 1 year ago

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me? finishing my s3 character recap only a day after completing the season? crazy. anyway, more of my thoughts!!! i don’t think i have anything very controversial in here, but this is almost 3k words of opinions so … enjoy!

jack – starting off strong with mr jack shephard. surprisingly, i don’t think i hated jack this season. sure, he pissed me off every now and again, but as i’ve said before, that’s just standard with this character. i’ve begun to expect and accept that. otherwise, he was pretty okay? i don’t like the first seven episodes of this season at all, i just absolutely hate the surgery plot. and let’s not forget ‘stranger in a strange land,’ which might just be the worst episode of this entire show. i don’t like ‘fire + water’ any more than the next guy, but it was significantly better than whatever the fuck we got in episode 9. just terrible. anyway, i understood why jack wouldn’t do surgery on ben, and i thought his line, “i just wanted you to understand how you’re gonna die,” was kind of fire. made me laugh, that’s for sure. never thought i’d see the day! later on, i enjoyed his relationship with juliet and i didn’t hate him as much when he told the camp that he hadn’t told them anything because he hadn’t decided what to do about it yet. used to that made me soooo mad, but this time around i was kinda like … i mean, yeah, you guys are the ones that wanted him to be leader. if that’s the decision he made, i think it’s fine. overall, jack wasn’t intensely annoying and i didn’t really mind him that much.

ben – ohhhhh ben. how could i ever not love you? we don’t get a lot from him during the surgery plot, or even after, but i think we start to really see who he is when locke blows up the submarine - all because ben manipulated him into doing it, which is just amazing to me. we especially see more of him in ‘the brig,’ how he so easily manipulates situations in his favor, and of course his centric episode which just … kills me. roger was a piece of shit and i stand by that!! of course, i don’t think the entire dharma initiative deserved to die, but it’s interesting to see someone who was in dharma eventually become the leader of the others. dharma’s very enemies! i also think it’s soooo ben to try and play up the whole jacob situation. the cabin scene did confuse me a lot - it could either be that ben was pretending to see someone, but that when shit started flying around and the fire started he just kind of rolled with the punches; OR ben was seeing someone there, and if so, it would’ve had to have been the man in black. which would make sense, if he was manipulating ben into being jealous of locke. as we know this works. however, ben seems to genuinely believe that jacob spoke to locke, and you can see in his face that he isn’t happy about it - enough to where i think he’s never spoken to or seen jacob at all. either way, i do believe the man in black was the one to say “help me,” and i lean more toward the idea that ben didn’t see anyone and was putting on a little show. but i love when ben is like, “well i certainly hope jacob helps you,” after he fucking shoots locke. hilarious. the one thing i hate is ben’s weird infatuation with juliet, but i’ll probably talk about that more in s4 when we get the dreaded flashback. also i think you can really see ben’s desperation at the end of this season, like for once he’s telling the truth - these people that are coming to the island are bad!! they’re gonna kill people!!! but no one listens. which, i can’t really blame them, ben is a known liar and manipulator, but i think it’s interesting how genuine ben’s motives are. he just wants to protect the island. seeing him get beat up again was also kind of funny not gonna lie. the writers really just want you to hate ben so bad ( like pretending he got sayid, jin, and bernard killed ) alongside other shit, but he’s just sooo likeable i don’t care about his crimes. and he really didn’t do anything that insane. anyway, ben was my man, and i cannot wait to see him be his best self in s4.

desmond – i adore desmond. i forgot how much i love him in this season, he’s seriously great in every scene he’s in. his plot with charlie is definitely s3’s most redeeming quality, and i find it insanely funny that the B Plot is more interesting than whatever the hell is going on with the others / jack, kate, and sawyer. ‘flashes before your eyes’ was nominated for an award and i think that’s telling to how fucking amazing that episode is. i got full body chills when eloise tells desmond that things have to play out as they were meant to, and especially when desmond tells charlie that he’ll have to die. it’s just amazing. he’s such a great guy and i think every single one of his centric episodes rock, he’s just an amazingly written character and the show wouldn’t be nearly the same without him.

charlie – charlie becomes one of my favorite characters in this season. he kinda drops down in s2 for obvious reasons, but he’s just SO great in s3. his plot is by far the most interesting and devastating. him coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to die, desmond saving him multiple times, ‘greatest hits’ … oh man that episode fucking destroyed me. i hadn’t seen it in a few years so i really got hit hard with his flashbacks and his interactions with everyone else - literally right before he’s knowingly going to his death. when he’s got tears in his eyes before he goes down to the looking glass??? i nearly died. it’s so fucking sad. and we also talked a bit about how so many of his other deaths have to do with water … foreshadowing or coincidence? no idea but i love it either way. obvs ‘not penny’s boat’ is iconic and for good reason too. his death just hurts. i love charlie and i’m sad to see him go, but his death does kick off major things for s4 so it is important, no matter how tragic it is.

hurley – i loved hurley this season. his interactions with the other survivors, especially sawyer, are just great - and him being the one to get all of this important information ( naomi telling him that flight 815 was found, finding out ethan wasn’t on the plane ) definitely hints at his future in the show. ‘tricia tanaka is dead’ is one of my favorite episodes in the entire series and hurley is just great in it. the fucking asteroid makes me die laughing every time. i really love him trying to fix up the van and that whole scene is just great. overall, i adore hurley in s3 and, as usual, i look forward to seeing more of him in the next one.

sawyer – he might just be at his funniest this season. i enjoyed his relationship with kate, a lot, and i just really love him in s3! ignoring the whole surgery plot, once sawyer makes it back to camp and has to act as a stand-in leader of sorts, being tricked by hurley into doing nice things - i just love when he does shit like that. and helping with the van, trying to solve the whole nikki and paulo fiasco … he’s just great. i have nothing bad to say about him ( ever ) and i think he can just be really sweet and does cute things and I LOVE HIM!!

nikki & paulo – oh, i bet you didn’t expect to see these two up here, did you? let’s be real, they were never going to go into honorable mentions because i have too much to talk about with them and ‘exposé.’ anyway, as surprising as it sounds, i really liked paulo. i genuinely felt bad for him - i mean, obviously not killing someone and stealing the guy’s diamonds - but, you know, for the way nikki treated him. more than anything, paulo wanted the diamonds to be gone so that he and nikki could just … be a normal couple, without that hanging over their heads forever. and to have nikki do what she did to him?! it’s sooo fucked up and it just made me feel awful for him. as for nikki, i did not like her, but i did love the scene at the beginning of the episode where she’s playing as a stripper. “razzle dazzle!” what a stupid yet iconic quote. that episode is just so fucking dumb and funny, i can’t not love it. another one of my favorites in the series. anyway, i think nikki got a good taste of karma for what she did to paulo, but their deaths were just absolutely horrific once you find out they’re paralyzed and are being buried alive!!! i swear i think about that shit all the time and it makes me shiver. anyway, love these random ass side characters and i think it’s funny they got killed off so quickly ( especially considering this was only done because fans hated them so much ). rip nikki and paulo you guys didn’t deserve that but you had a great flashback episode.

kate – kate was … meh? she didn’t annoy me, but nothing she did really stood out to me. i only enjoyed her scenes with sawyer, pretty much, as i think their relationship is really fun ( and better than whatever the fuck kate and jack have going on ). genuinely kinda hurt me tho that she blamed herself for jack not being able to get off the island. like girlie that was all ben and locke! not you!! the gays will be gay let them do their thing. anyway i can’t think of anything else interesting with her, sooo that’s about it.

locke – this is the start of the best relationship in the series, which would beeee you guessed it! locke and ben. at least to me. nothing lives up to these two and some of the shit they say to each other??? fucking insane. it’s so gay i can’t even fathom it, especially on ben’s side. i really love the ways they both affect each other, ben’s consuming jealousy of locke because of his relationship with the island, locke’s anger at ben because more than anything he wants to trust him - it just fucks me up. and, obviously, i love their slow burn friendship in s4 but i’ll talk about that more when we get there. anyway, i think locke did some crazy shit this season but i really liked him at the end, when walt tells him he has work to do and he kills naomi - putting him and ben on the same side of this situation. it’s interesting how devoted locke is to the island, but obviously he still has his morals and no matter how much he wants to, he can’t shoot jack. and i think that’s kind of the difference between him and ben - locke embraces his humanity despite the island’s commands, while ben completely foregoes his. for the rest of this season i didn’t hate locke but i didn’t necessarily love him either. he faded into the background a little bit for me, but i do love the episode where we see him get thrown out of the building. fucking crazy. he really just blew up a lot of shit this season and i’m here for it. makes me think of that meme from s6 of ben, richard, and miles and their moniger “team blow shit up.” i love it. embracing locke’s absolute insanity in the wake of MiB … anywho, yeah, locke on his own didn’t hit so much but alongside ben he really captures my attention. love when he tells ben that he’s the man behind the curtain, the wizard of oz. it’s so good!! locke’s delivery is always great and i think he’s just a phenomenal character ( and terry o’quinn kills it with the acting ). enough said from me.

sayid – i’m gonna be so honest, i didn’t give much of a shit about sayid this season. the only episode that hits for me is ‘enter 77,’ when sayid, kate, and locke first encounter mikhail and we get that flashback of sayid and the woman he tortured, as well as her cat. the whole story she tells about the cat as well as herself … it definitely made me a little emotional. otherwise, i didn’t care much for sayid but i didn’t have many qualms like i did with him in s2. he’s kind of just there.

claire – i wish i had more to say on claire but i really don’t. she literally did nothing for me this season, i didn’t care about her that much, but i did like her flashback episode and her thing with the birds ( not that it’s going to help anything ). aside from that, i have nothing else to talk about! moving on…

juliet – i do really enjoy juliet’s presence in this show, she’s one of my favorite characters and i love the way she’s written. her short-lived thing with jack is not really my thing, but we can move past that. oh and her flashbacks also don’t hit for me, ever, but that’s not really her fault. anyway, her hatred of ben is interesting ( which is for valid reasons, obviously ) and i think it’s cool to see an other who slowly merges with the survivors because it’s the first time that she can really get away. i think she’s definitely the beginning of these two groups coming together, which will be needed in s4 considering who’s coming to the island. juliet genuinely cares for people but carries out ben’s orders nonetheless - until she really has the option not to. and the little bits we get of her and sawyer are fun, i’m excited to see how they develop more in s5. overall she’s a great character aaaand i look forward to seeing her on screen again.

sun & jin – jin was fun this season, i liked his little friendship with hurley/charlie/sawyer with the van, and then later with hurley/charlie/desmond when they go camping. love the little scary story he tells, i just really enjoyed him. sun was alright, didn’t stand out to me too much, but i do really like the episode where she goes to the staff to get an ultrasound. she and juliet are interesting there, and i loved sun’s reaction to the baby being jin’s … it was just so human and kind of ripped my heart out, like she’s crying in joy but also she knows she’s going to die, but that’s okay because at least she didn’t betray jin in this terrible way. anyway, i can’t think of much more to do with these two, but i love their relationship as usual!

eko – we don’t get to see eko much in this season, but his centric episode is fucking great and i looooove his deal with the smoke monster. my thought has always been that eko was a candidate and the monster was testing him, looking through his memories to see what could be exploited - and most likely see how impressive of a candidate he would be, considering eko didn’t even flinch when he first saw the monster. then in s3 we get MiB leading him away, posing as his brother, and my assumption is that because eko doesn’t feel guilt for the things he’s done, because he doesn’t need the island or anyone else on it, he is no longer a candidate. so the smoke monster fucks him up because of it. this would also make sense because eko doesn’t move on with everyone else at the church, he moves on right then and there with yemi. i do adore eko’s quote, “i did not ask for the life that i was given, but it was given nonetheless. and with it, i did my best.” that fucking kills me. puts tears in my eyes just thinking about it. i was really sad to see him go but i do think his death is intriguing and leaves a lot to think about. rip eko tho </3

honorable mentions:

richard – didn’t get a lot from him this season, but i fucking love him. he’s one of my favs. enough said.

roger work man – i hope you fucking choke and die <3

ethan – a jumpscare every time he appeared on screen. surprisingly enjoyable to see again, i found myself liking his character. i think he just got cabin ( jungle? ) fever and went a little crazy, that’s all.

arzt – great little cameo and i loved his bug collection. so sad he exploded.

taller ghost walt – WALT I MISSED YOU!!! THERE’S MY BOY!

#dr dipshit ( elsie rewatch )#there's a divinity that shapes our ends ( s3 )#i'm so proud of myself for how quickly i finished this #enjoy!#character recap

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yaminerua · 4 months ago

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Hhhh my face is giving me hell

well I guess it was nice to have a couple of months where my face was marginally less red but with the anti-inflammatory antibiotics course done and finished it’s just erupted right back to where it was before I’d started on it, minus the spots but I’m sure they’ll come back as soon as the inflammation goes unchecked for long enough.

idk what I’m going to do tbh I’ve done all I can wrt changing my diet and trying to cut out everything that triggers this perpetual flush but it seems to just do it on its own with no discernible immediate trigger. I wake up with it before I’ve even eaten or done anything, or it sets in several hours after any meal regardless of what was eaten (and also I eat the same shit every day atm to try to monitor it for consistency and there IS no consistency). I eat the blandest shit with no seasonings atm bc it’s supposed to be safe from flare ups and I don’t touch any of the things on most trigger lists. And yet now it’s the same as tho I’d had a big old tomatoey curry even tho I haven’t touched tomatoes or spices of any kind since early June.

Thermal temperature is hard to control but I do know it plays a role. I can’t eat my meals warm, I have to wait for them to be cold. And bc this house heats like a sauna on even mildly warm days but it gets frigid cold on cold ones and when the heating is on that’s just as bad as if it was a warm day and i have to sit with a fan on to try to keep burning out of control.

I can do nothing about that or the heat in the kitchen when cooking. But even with those factors there was still a good period in the middle of this course of meds where my face was relatively calm and only faintly pink and yet it’s slipped back over the last two weeks as tho I wasn’t still on those meds at all. And aside from meds reducing inflammation idk what else made it work before that isn’t now bc as mentioned I haven’t changed anything about what I’m doing. My routine is the same now as it was at the end of June and yet the response is completely different.

I’ve been using my calming skincare shit this whole time too but that’s burning a hole in my pocket. I thought it was working bc it does usually have an immediate redness reduction effect when I use it but now it doesn’t feel like it’s working either.

it’s like my face is just immune to every attempt I’m making to calm it

at this point I can only assume it’s a negative feedback loop from stress. It must be something like that. It’s the only other thing that’s completely out of my control

irl is so stressful rn money wise and I’m perpetually waiting for terrible news to do with the house that I know is coming bc the deadline is reached and there’s nothing that can be done about it and it’s been looming and destroying my mental health for ages. I can’t use stress relief methods bc I’ve never ever found one that works in any capacity at all so I’m always stressed and that makes my face flare and that makes the stress worse and you can see how that just goes from there…

I feel pretty hopeless tbh. Like yeah maybe I’ll eventually be able to afford to have some laser therapy (I don’t think I can get it on nhs for this so it’ll need paid for I think) to try to deal with any blood vessels that need shrunk but like I wish I didn’t have to resort to that but it’s basically an inevitability at this point. If I can keep the inflammatory spots happening that’ll be good at least but it’s the redness in the face that makes me want to just never be perceived again bc it was so intense that people would point it out to me like what did you do to your face? I look like someone took a hard edged brush of bright red and drew an exaggerated anime blush in a thick line across my cheeks and nose and I hate it. I look like I’ve been skiing with goggles on in the snow and burnt the shape of the goggles under my eyes

and it burns and prickles and itches so much when it heats up. It’s almost unbearable.

But until then idk how to bring it under control and it’s making me feel so awful.

I mean like. I’m white and Scottish so like. Yeah. So many of us get this shit. Ruddy faces are a common sight. My dad’s side of the family all mostly have it, in the form of the visible blood vessels but all of them only have it localised to the cheeks, like some rosy cheeked Santa Claus look. Nothing on the nose or any kind of diffuse redness all over the face. And none with the inflammatory spots form, or even the burning or hot feeling. It’s like I got a completely different rosacea and it’s just. So unfair. I could handle it if I looked like the rest of my family but I look so much worse and idk how much worse it might go on to look and feel and I’m just.

Tired

Idk maybe it’s just that I handle stress so badly it manifests more severely for me. I’ve had trauma to wrestle with since before I reached double digits in age and there are a great many things I just don’t handle well at all. But god that was bad enough on its own in the ways it hinders my life without all that stress also giving me new issues to be stressed and depressed about. Like honestly what next

I want to do things I enjoy and write and draw and go out and see friends and this shit is sucking all of what little enjoyment I can find in life right out of me. Can’t eat the foods I used to love, can’t exercise in the fun ways I used to, can’t do anything I used to without this horrible burning redness cursing me wherever i go and of course you KNOW it gets worse when I have to wear a covid mask bc of the hot humidity of my breath in the mask but that’s not something i can give up bc covid is still around and I refuse to stop protecting myself from it bc as far as I know I’ve never had it yet and I just know with my luck if I ever get it it’ll fuck me up really bad.

so idk what to do other than sit here venting about it and wanting to cry bc of how awful and hopeless it feels

feel like I’m waiting for a life changing miracle to get rid of my stress but like lmao the world itself is stressful in general with all the awful things going on. How is anyone supposed to feel optimistic or hopeful or not stressed about everything…

Idk what I’d expected after the meds ran out tbh I knew from the start it would only temporarily offer relief and then it would surge back. I just had hoped maybe I’d be wrong.

hhhh fml. I should just go to bed

#Personal shit #my face is evil and hates me and I’m just fed up tbh #I feel like I’m back at square one with even less hope than before

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beyourownanchor6 · 5 months ago

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I think they were good out of context, as standalone. But some things never made sense. Like after the first one where Supergirl joins, it's like. She found out there's a whole universe where there's no superman or supergirl, no clark kent or kara danvers, which potentially could mean krypton never exploded, and she can get to that universe with the help of her friend barry's friend cisco, and she does... absolutely nothing with that information. No desire to visit au!krypton. No desire to see her parents again. No desire to take Clark, who has no ties to his own culture because he lost it as a baby, to go see krypton. Nothing. And like she knows there is life on other planets and it matches the life in other planets on her universe because of the dominators, the alien main villains of that crossover who also exist in her universe. It drove me crazy.

Yeah i definitely went through it. But it made me stronger in the end. Yeah i loved/hated 13 reasons why. It was definitely wild. And thank you so much! One of my best friends says i should write an auto biography, but i can't imagine anyone being interested in reading about my messed up teen years. Like "ooh i was an alcoholic in high school" big deal, like, doesn't make me special. And yeees. My mom is my best friend (not in a norman bates kinda way), we're very close. Recently she's been hinting that it might be better for me to move out because i need to work on independence, and i meed to be free to fornicate at home. I'm unsure if i want that, because i love living with her.

Lol oh i'm like that with scooby doo.

Yeah, i love foggy too. No spoilers (unless you want them) but yeah, very limited foggy. Rumor has it it's basically a cameo. And yees punisher is coming back. I never got into him but he is nice to look at. Especially his nose (i have a thing for noses, i'm weird).

Thank you! I subscribed to you :D

Thank you! I'll try beans with my mom, maybe she'll get that.

Yeah indeed, second opinions are important. And it was definitely helpful! Now I can plan accordingly. And that sounds like a great weekend! I hope you have a great week!

gonna respond under the cut 😎

i think supergirl definitely ruined a lot of the series/crossovers bc they never really tied it together with everything like you said? seemed like a lot of wasted opportunities. i tried to watch supergirl a couple times but quit both times lol. it definitely had a lot of plot holes from what i remember, which honestly isn’t much lol. idk why but dc shows/movies just always seem to fall short compared to marvel stuff, imo. it’s like they just don’t know what they’re doing half the time and just go with whatever

sometimes we have to go through some shit to make us stronger in the end. the show definitely got very dramatic but i loved it anyway and was invested lol, but i can see not wanting to engage with that after all you went through. hey ya never know! your story could be just the thing to help someone out who’s maybe going/gone through something similar. LOL, i do love me some psycho. did you ever watch the show bates motel? living alone (or at least without your parents) is definitely nice! i live with my brother but he’s much more easygoing then my dad so it works. it’s like having a roommate but we get along haha. it’s a big step though so i think it’s ok to take your time and make sure you’re ready!

dang, that makes me sad. kinda weird to do daredevil without him i’d think. that shall be interesting. the punisher was one of my favorites. i really wanted more seasons of that, but i kinda felt that way about all the marvel netflix show lol

oww thanks! hope you enjoy 🥰

beans are a fun way to describe it for me. or it makes me feel less blahh about it lol

that’s always a helpful thing! thanks, i am on a trip with my bff this week but i got horribly sunburned and dont feel like doing anything now lol. hope you’re weeks been good!

#kai 👾#cheers to the weekend!

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roses-stardustandhoney · 10 months ago

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I know you don't think of me and, obviously, I'm still thinking of you, the sky still exists. Missing everything I built up in my head. Wondering about the opportunities you gave me to act upon my feelings. Your birthday party and all the nights watching Killing Eve (especially that One) which I'm sure you don't remember and if you do, definitely don't dwell on. I did what you did. Spent a year in a completely different city/state for work with no support system. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life so far and I'm sorry for minimizing that.

I'm glad you're not as active here, initially I was checking every other day to see if you would post about me. Now it's every few months.

I don't have much to say. Other than, while you are irreplaceable, I've found others who understand me the way you did. Other women who will send me silly videos and watch gay shit with me. I'm still learning how to live without being obsessed with you. I'm still living and loving. I hope life is treating you better than it was.

It’s not fair to assume I never think of you. I still have the letter you sent me, I have no intention of ever getting rid of it. I know our relationship was complicated and low key fucked up but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still think of you or that I don’t miss you on occasion. I won’t lie, everything in my life, as always, I’m sure you’ll remember, is a complete and constant shit show, so you’re not always in the for front of my mind but I look you up on Facebook sometimes to see how you’re doing. I saw that you had moved away for work and I wondered how hard that must’ve been for you. I watched all of the last season of killing Eve as it aired to spite you, to prove I didn’t need you to watch it as it came out but it wasn’t the same without you. I care about you a lot and when we stopped talking I really didn’t have anyone, it was really hard, you were not someone I ever thought I’d loose. I know you started hanging out with that cunt who hates me and my partner after we stopped talking, that felt more like a betrayal than anything else I went through with all my so called friends of the time. I’ve thought about reaching out a few times but you know how I hate to be perceived as vulnerable or really anything other than a rage filled demon. I couldn’t have my regrets, on any level, getting back to the people who consider themselves victims, who sit on the sidelines waiting to hear anything about my undoing. So after my first obvious attempt at reaching out, even if it was malicious then, I decided it wasn’t a good idea to try again, based on your cleverly hurtful reuse of my response to your previous message like this. The only reason I even leave my anonymous messages on, on this hellsite, or check them at all is cause I hoped to hear from you again. You’re the only person who’s ever anonymously messaged me on here at all, darling. I’d say I’d add you back on Facebook but I literally can’t rn cause I can’t get into my Facebook at all for some reason that I have not been told and can’t figure out. I don’t have your number anymore either cause I’m the kind of person who tries to leave no temptation for myself after loosing someone I care about. At this point all I can hope is that you see this and message me back cause I’m also pretty sure you changed your url on here, so I have no way of finding you. I miss being able to send you stupid videos and talk about gay stuff too. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why you’re obsessed with me, I’m out right mean and selfish, and not really even remarkable in any way. I’m just a woman who’s trying her hardest to survive and that’s all I’ve really ever been. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m happy to hear from you. Maybe we can find each other again.

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ohnopeh · 6 months ago

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i love this post cause yes, absolutely 1000%. i’ve been watching shameless since the end of season 2 which means i had to go through 3x06 and the ending of s3 as it aired, waiting for s4, reading about cameron having other projects and wondering what that meant for ian’s character. s4 was a blast and when mickey came out i couldn’t believe it! then s5 happened and i think it was the worst time of my life as i spent my sunday night awake till 6am (bc fuck timezone) so i could watch the episode live, aware that i’d have to wake up two hours later to go to school— but there was literally not even a episode in that season that made you think ‘it’s gonna be okay’ which made it impossible to chill out after the episode ended! so would could even go to bed or function properly when all i wanted to do was being on tumblr and read people’s thoughts? there were some accounts that had access to episodes earlier and would make posts with emojis or answer questions very cryptically which only increased my anxiety cause it was never good news lol. when mickey said i love you on the phone i couldn’t believe it and kept hoping they would talk about it eventually ( which never happened ).

then interviews and tweets about noel not coming back and having other projects started to float around. i spent my days, weeks and months trying to analyse everything hoping that they were simply pulling our legs to make their make up worth it. then cam tweeted about noel’s journey on shameless ending and i wanted to cry my eyes out!!! when 6x01 happened i felt like shit and stopped watching shameless all together. i love(d) the show and watched it for every character but i was so damn pissed at the whole thing, the frustration and emotions i felt really didn’t do well for me and i started hating anything related to the show and its characters— i randomly found out noel was coming back for s7 and again i had my hopes up and got punched in the face with that ending. i zoned out of the fandom/show once again only to randomly find out about their reunion in prison + them coming back for the last two seasons and i couldn’t believe it!!!

my experience with shameless was like going to war, i feel traumatised by all the emotions it made me feel, the anxiety they would mess the characters/couple, not knowing if they would be a thing, mickey’s character being treated like shit etc. i used to love reading their fics back in the day and i had to force everything away from me cause it really pissed me off and the fact that it made me feel that way pissed me off even more cause ian and mickey were and are comfort characters to me and have it ruined by a greedy fucker who wouldn’t pay actors properly made me go nuts. now that everything is over, they’re happy, can’t be touched and potentially ruined anymore, i feel content and i could go back to the show that had been a comfort to me all those years ago— to a new, older, more mature and depressed me that can appreciate the show more than ever! although i still struggle to watch s6-9 without feeling rage in my little hateful heart, i know they made it to the end and it’s all worth it. i don’t care if the show became less serious than what it was, i welcomed it even as i really needed the boys to be okay and happy and in love with their shared i love yous.

so yes, back then everything about them, their scenes post break up etc. could only make me rage and feel empty, now that it’s over and i know they’re happy, some of those scenes have found a new meaning to fit with later seasons and i can find comfort in them knowing it’s not the end!

bless those who didn’t give up and made them come back, i smooch you all

(fun act, mickey’s full name was thanks to fanfic writers that just made it up one day and kept using it over and over, seeing it as canon. so when 7x09 happened, one writer that interacted lots with fans decided to use it and make it canon in the show too! she tweeted about it back then, i tried to find the tweet but found out she deleted her account cause,, well. she got lots of hate)

I love this revisit of season 7 Gallavich, because I love those episodes. They are absolutely the comfort episodes I'm most likely to put on if I just want to watch some Gallavich (and then bonus Monica chaos, with Lip falling apart in the corner.) But when I see this sort of literal celebration of the season and those precious two episodes, I always think of the people who watched that shit LIVE. And they were not celebrating.

Context is everything. When you know how the story ends, and you know that isn't the ending, and you know you can just fully skip season 8 on your rewatch, 7x10 and 7x11 are really lovely, bittersweet, emotionally cathartic episodes.

I try to keep this in mind in fandom -- though to make it silly, maybe I can also keep this in mind in life -- that sometimes all you need is a little time and a different perspective, and it's not that bad. It might even be pretty good.

#also i’ll never be part of a fandom of on going series #i’m not strong anymore for that shit #i remember they would also bother the writers #god what a time #shameless us #post #gallavich #shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #noel fisher #cameron monaghan

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sweet-babyrose · 2 years ago

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What Are Friends For? (Mapi Leon & Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Summary: Mapi helps her bestie, Alexia, prepare to propose to her girlfriend

This was hurriedly finished because that game was devastating and we all need something good right now. Hopefully it's still fun to read.

Proposal location: Barcelona Unique Hotel Room | W Barcelona (marriott.co.uk) if you scroll all the way down, you can see the amazing view from the terrace

"Maria! Pay attention." Alexia reached over and pinched Mapi.

"Ow!" she yelled, rubbing her arm. "Chill, Ale. She's not going to be here for hours yet."

"You know her. She'll show up at the worst possible minute."

"Is that any way to talk about your fiancé?"

"Not my fiancé," Alexia reminded her.

"Almost fiancé," Mapi corrected with a teasing eye roll. "You're asking her in a few days. She's going to say yes. It's a given."

"You really think she'll say yes?"

"Duh, dude. That girl is more obsessed with you than some of your crazy online fans."

"Shut up," she muttered. She ducked her head, looking down at the pictures again. "Okay, which of these two is better?" she asked, pointing at two pictures. They were both photos from the first trip you ever took together. Mapi pointed at one. Alexia moved it to the pile of photos she was planning to use and dropped the other photo back into the box she'd pulled it out of.

Taking more photos out, she heard the key in the lock. "Shit!"

Mapi grabbed the photos off the table and shoved them under her computer while Alexia hurriedly closed the box and shoved it in a cabinet. They both turned to look at the door as it flew open, surprise all over their faces.

"What are you two getting up to? You look like I just caught you looking at porn." You closed the door and put your bag next to it.

"It was one time!" Mapi yelled as you walked closer to them. "And I fully expected you to stay in Alexia's room that night."

You bent over to give Alexia a kiss hello.

Alexia pulled you down onto her lap. "You're home early."

"That's not suspicious at all." You wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Not even a 'hello' or 'how was your afternoon' to try to distract me first?"

"We were just talking about where we should go for vacation at the end of the season." The lie easily rolled off Mapi's tongue, saving Alexia from having to make something up. She knew there was nothing Alexia hated more than lying to you or keeping things from you.

“Since I met you two, I’ve never been anywhere for vacation other than Ibiza.” You looked between the two of them, narrowing your eyes. "You know what, I actually don't want to know." You pushed up from Alexia to stand next to them. “Are you staying for dinner, Maria?”

"Only if Alexia promises not to show off her terrible dance moves while we cook."

"I'm not promising that. Y/N loves my terrible dance moves."

"It's true," you said, with a laugh. Backing up into the kitchen, you started pulling out vegetables from the fridge, assuming Maria would stay. She always did. You shook your head when you heard them arguing over who was the better dancer. There was no point in telling them they were both equally terrible.

After dinner, they said goodnight to Mapi and sat to cuddle for a few minutes on the couch before bed. Alexia tucked herself under your arm and laid her head on your chest.

“I want to take you on a date this weekend,” Alexia said, playing with the sleeve of your shirt.

“I’d love that,” you said, scratching the back of her head. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll plan it. You just show up looking beautiful.”

"I can't wait." You leaned down to give her a kiss.

~~~

On Saturday, Alexia met Mapi at the hotel she had chosen for the night. She'd gotten a corner suite with a huge terrace overlooking the ocean. You had always dreamed of getting engaged at the beach. Alexia wanted this moment to be just for the two of you, though. The beaches in Barcelona were always crowded and you both were easily recognized by most people in the city now. It was both a gift and a curse.

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Mapi asked. It was the only part of the proposal that Alexia hadn't shared with her. “Or are you winging it?”

“Mostly winging it," Alexia said as she continued clipping photos to the boards she'd brought. "There’s a few things I’ve been thinking I should say. But I didn’t want it to sound rehearsed.”

"She's going to love it," Mapi said, hearing the nerves in her friend's voice. "This is the perfect proposal, Ale."

"I don't know why I'm nervous." Alexia looked at all the pictures in front of her. There were pictures from your life together, from the time you were friends up to now. "We've talked so much about this. I know she wants this. And I definitely want it."

"You're just overthinking. It's going to be amazing." Mapi tugged Alexia's arm. "Come on, let's go move all that patio furniture. Maybe getting your sweat on will take your mind off your nerves."

~~~

Alexia had asked you to meet her in the lobby of the hotel at 6pm. It was easy enough to convince you it was only for dinner because you had been wanting to eat at one of the restaurants at this hotel for months. You thought it was a little strange that she hadn't come with you from home. But she had said she needed to help Mapi finish something and would get ready at her house rather than driving all the way home and then all the way back to the hotel.

You found her sitting in the lobby, dressed in a strappy plain black dress with a very high slit. Her legs were crossed and she was leaning forward, typing on her phone. Her hair was softly curled and falling forward to partially cover her face. You gave yourself a minute to admire her. She looked stiff, you realized. You hoped maybe this date would help relax her a little.

Crossing the lobby to her, you touched her head. Her eyes traveled up your dress to your face.

"You look incredible," she murmured. She stood, pulling you into a tight hug.

"You do, too. I stopped to stare at you for a minute because you took my breath away." You pulled back to give her a small kiss. You dropped your arms and she took your hand in hers. "Lead the way, hermosa."

You were surprised when she lead you towards the elevator and used a key card to press the button for the 21st floor.

"I thought we were going to dinner."

"We are. I just want to show you something first. I figured you wouldn't mind if we stayed here overnight."

"Oh, but I don't have anything with me."

She giggled and kissed your cheek. "I brought a bag for you, baby. Don't worry." She slipped her arm around your waist, holding you close against her. When the elevator stopped at 21, she lead you out and down to the end of the hall. She unlocked the door and held it open for you to step through.

You were immediately greeted by the sight of a huge bed in front of floor to ceiling windows, giving you a clear view of the ocean below. "Wow. This is beautiful."

"The thing I want to show you is out on the terrace," she said. She walked you over to the large sliding doors and opened them for you.

For the second time that night, Alexia took your breath away. Stepping out onto the terrace, you were greeted by dozens of photos of you and Alexia. There were hundreds of rose petals strewn across the ground. The sun was setting over the ocean below and you could see all of Barcelona from up here.

"Babe," you whispered. You let her pull you over, closer to the edge. She took both of your hands in hers, holding them between you.

"When you came to Barcelona five years ago, I fell for you so fast. I spent so long wishing you were mine. You’re the most incredible woman and somehow you love me, too.

"I love every moment with you, even when you’re annoying me on purpose or when you’re angry with me. I love that we always end up dancing in the kitchen when we cook. I love the way you love me. I love waking up before you and listening to those stupid noises you make. I love our life together. I love you so much."

Behind the jacuzzi, Mapi tried to keep silent and not interrupt the moment. She had set up Alexia's phone on the other side of the terrace to take a video and she was using her own phone in this spot to take photographs. Alexia knew she was there, thankfully. Y/N looked like she was ready to take Alexia back inside and make use of the giant bed. Hopefully Alexia remembered Mapi was hiding up there.

She snapped more photos as Alexia reached behind one of the chair cushions and pulled out the ring box, as she got down on a knee, and as Y/N threw herself into Alexia's arms, pulling her back to her feet. She caught the kiss with the ring box visible in Alexia's hand still.

Clearly Alexia did not remember that Mapi was up there. As the two continued kissing the heck out of each other, Mapi ducked behind the jacuzzi to look at the photos. Her heart melted for her friends. They both looked so happy. Looking at the last picture of their kiss, she made the instant decision that everyone needed to see it. She posted it to Instagram as a public story, tagging them both, and adding a few hearts for good measure.

Alexia could kill her tomorrow. She was clearly too busy right now to do anything about it.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #mapi leon #mapi leon imagine #woso imagine

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fandomgalore-blog · 3 years ago

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Just finished the final season of On My Block! I’m super sad that it ended, but I’m also glad they didn’t drag it out too long to the point that it would be ruined. Here are my thoughts:

- I love Jamal and abuela’s relationship so much. I don’t doubt he’ll name his future daughter after her if he has one tbh

- Monse had a fantastic character arc and development. I loved her the entire season

- I’m glad Cesar thanked Jamal cuz the dude deserves a million thanks for all the shit he saved the group from

- Loved that abuela left a map for them!!!

- I was actually relieved that the finale was 100% happiness because honestly they deserved it

- Chivo is one of the best side characters ever

- Never thought I’d see Latrelle again, especially another interaction with Ruby, but I’m glad since it was great

- Jamal is the best of the core four. Don’t at me

- I’ve always known Spooky was gonna die and I could tell he was going to when he was packing, but I still felt awful after watching him go out like that

- The parents on this show are so fucking funny

- I loved the realistic ending of neither of the main couples ending up together, but it’s obvious they’ll find their way back some way

- Spooky’s ash spreading was so perfect and then them getting so ridiculously intoxicated right after was even better

- Monse and Jasmine’s relationship was top tier this season

- Jasmine and Jamal were also a fantastic duo

- I sometimes wonder how different the show would be with Olivia, however I don’t miss her

- Jamal having beef with Monse was so funny despite it being petty asf

- Also, Jamal’s little crush on Monse was a great comical twist

- I’m glad Jasmine was finding herself, and I hate that she couldn’t go to Berkeley, but at least she’s happy

- I loved the flashbacks, but I wish they showed some of Jamal being cast aside by Ruby and Jasmine, and how Ruby drifted from Monse

- I loved that Monse and Vero ended up squashing their beef in the end

- Lil Ricky reveal was satisfying to me for some reason despite him not being what I thought he’d be

- I’m glad Monse and her family found peace within her mom’s book for her

- I’m glad the Santos let Cesar leave without a fight

- The first Ruby and Jasmine sex scene where Ruby’s parents were just outside the doors was funny as hell

- The kids explaining all four seasons to their parents was also comedy gold

- Where the fuck is the roller world money????

- Overall, this was a great final season despite its loose ends, and I will miss this show a lot. Hopefully Netflix will make similar ones in the future without canceling it hella early or some shit like that

That’s it for now, but I no doubt will add or subtract from this list in the future. Let me know if you agree or disagree!

#cesar diaz #on my block #omb #spooky diaz #spooky #on my block season 4 #on my block spoilers #monse finnie #jamal turner #latrelle on my block #jasmine flores #vero on my block #lil spooky #chivo

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annemriex · 2 years ago

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I see a lot of posts a lot of posts about how much people hated Steve in season 1 and how he’s a completely different and better person from season 2 onwards but I don’t agree. I genuinely loved Steve and could resonate with his actions in season 1 from my first viewing of the show and so I made a list to show that he’s not as terrible or different as a lot of people say.

Steve invites Nancy to his house because his parents aren’t home. Nancy interprets this as a party and invites Barb to come with her. I’d like to argue to this was not the case. 1. There is only the five of them total at the house which suggests Steve really asked Nancy on a double date not to a party. 2. Steve is known as the Keg King of Hawkins high before being dethroned by Billy in season 2 at Tina’s party. This shows that when Steve actually throws a party it looks a lot like Tina’s. Not a group of 5 teens sitting at the pool with no music and a couple of beers.

So Steve although shocked that Barb is here never questions it he’s just happy that Nancy agreed to come and hang out and I’m fact although he’s quite awkward and clearly doesn’t know how to interact with Barb he always makes an effort to include her even when she clearly hates being there and him.

The next day when Nancy is asking if anyone saw Barb leave and Tommy and Carol are being nasty not really giving her a proper answer Steve tells them to knock it off and to answer the question seriously.

After the police get involved and they are going to phone all the parents all Steve asks is that Nancy not mention that they were drinking beer because Barb wasn’t even drinking any of them. I know a lot of people think that’s really harsh and selfish but honestly what scared 16 year old wouldn’t ask for their underage drinking to be told to the police when it wasn’t relevant to what the police are asking? He’s not saying don’t say she was at mine or anything, he wants to help just not to drop himself in shit at the same time.

Then Nicole tells them that Jonathan took pictures of his girlfriend in her underwear through his bedroom window. I honestly don’t think any of that fight at the school was that bad, maybe he shouldn’t have broke the camera but honestly if I was a braver person, I would in that situation. In fact I might have even went to the police for stalking instead.

Then he later wants to check on his girlfriend who’s friend has just gone missing because she didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house. So he’s worried and wants to make sure she’s okay, he climbs up to her bedroom window (a pre agreed form of entry) to knock and ask how she is but he sees her cuddling the man who he just confronted for taking unwanted pictures of her in her underwear. He then understandably thinks she’s been cheating on him.

His friends (I want to stress he wasn’t actually the one to do it) spray paint about Nancy on the movie theatre. Nancy appears again with Jonathan and is angry about the spray paint when she realised why he’s angry she get goes “you came by last night.” And doesn’t say “I wondered if Jonathan’s pictures had any sighting of Barb and he was comforting me when we couldn’t find any.” He then gets angry and lashes out at Jonathan which a lot said was out of line of course it was but how would you be without any of the context the show gave you of Nancy and Jonathan’s side of things?

After having like 10-15 minutes to calm down after the fight Steve feels regret about how far he took things and seeing that Tommy and Carol have no regret what’s so ever he instantly decides he wants to be better and if they don’t want to then he’ll move on without them.

He then goes to Jonathan’s house to apologise not to look good in front of Nancy as he didn’t know she was there. In fact it honestly would have reignited my rage in his shoes that she was still with Jonathan after all that but he just admits that he was wrong and he’s only there to say sorry.

Steve bought Jonathan a new camera for Christmas but gave it to Nancy to pass on as he didn’t want Jonathan to reject it just because it was from him.

Timelines might be slightly wrong I didn’t check what order events happen in the show it’s just been stuck in my head for days and I had to get it out

#not Nancy wheeler friendly #not Jonathan Byers friendly #tagging not friendly just to be safe #steve harrington #meta post #stranger things #stranger things meta #Steve harrington meta #stranger things season 1 #long post

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years ago

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Of Monsters And Men

(Season 2)

Chapter 9 - Blood And Flame

Summary: Reuniting with Yennefer after all this time apart draws you into another problem you hadn't been expecting, yet its something you'll be challenged with in ways you hadn't thought to deal with ever in your long life.

Warning: angst, blood, reader going ✨feral✨, fighting, more angst, slight fluff

Word count: 9737

Masterlist- Of Monsters And Men Masterlist here

Surprised would be a severe understatement in the verbiage of your current circumstances these days. You've been in this sacred, very kind and very calming temple for not even a solid day yet and you've already managed to meet Yennefer who you weren't completely certain was even still alive.

No matter if Istredd told you of it and what happened in Aretuza with her disagreements with the Brotherhood and all that other chaotic shit she was apart of. You didn't want to give in to the hope that lingered deep within your heart that she was alive. But that was all confirmed when she showed up at random in the Temple of Melitele unannounced.

Which makes sense since she now apparently doesn't have her chaos anymore, now that was a true surprise in all honesty. Yennefer with lack of magic for the first time since she was a young farmers daughter trying to feed pigs, and though she smiles and makes good conversation so far, you know this has to be killing her inside. But you're not going to dwell on the matter, it's a waste of thought.

Instead have you chosen to leave your seating to wander the halls with her by your side, just enjoying having your old friend with you once again. You pass by a deep blue glass window, running your fingertips on the candle flames that burn from their wax castles on a metal tray near you. Just like so many others all over this giant temple, another of the hundred some candles giving light to this place when the sun goes down.

Yennefer looks to you questioningly, "So he started to talk about vampires and your family linage? Just came up to you and said all that?"

"Yeah, he did. It was weird but kind of nice to talk about my people with someone who genuinely has an unambiguous desire to learn about them. And not for the reason of hate or wanting their death."

"Hmm. He sounds pleasant enough."

"Oh he was, then he wanted me to do something."

She raises a brow, "Something?"

You let out a small laugh, "Nothing perverse thankfully. I just lifted him up, he was very excited about it."

"Oh was he now?" Chuckles Yennefer as you both pass by a plant, "I bet he's dreaming about you right now, dreaming steamy, detailed dreams. Drooling on his pillow too."

"Fuck off.." You laugh while gifting her a little nudge, "Hmm..he might be. I just hope he never goes seeking them, or if he does he's well prepared to protect himself. I'd hate to see him killed, he was kind.....which could be a bad thing in the long run for him."

Yennefer playfully nudges your arm this time, "Hmm, Geralt better count his days then, seems our vampire lover has is eyes set for my sister here. Though I doubt you'd object to some dirty activities with two handsome handsy men." She teases.

You gasp, "Excuse me my dear, but those days have long been apart of my past."

She snickers, "You ever ask Geralt? I bet he'd comply, just for one night, share you with another. Maybe even watch."

"Alright." You warn with a halfheartedly stern voice before breaking out into a smile as you push your hair back, "Fuck you're giving me dirty thoughts, I'm turning unpure in this here temple you damn heathen."

"Well you better pray for forgiveness then you sinner, sleeping with a man, unmarried in this temple and their own bed you've been gifted to have. Tisk, tisk, Y/N."

You roll your eyes at her, "I don't wanna hear it from the woman who had sex in front of more then a thousand elf skulls, multiple times. All their ancient bones and everything, right in front of those sunken in eye sockets staring at your naked arse. Disgusting, gross, disturbing even....you shameful whore."

She gasps in mock insult, "You depraved slut."

You laugh at her open mouthed face showing a mix of surprise and amusement, she then shakes her head at you while passing some more trays holding many candles. Your chuckles slowly die down after a short while as your gaze turns to linger on the burning candles dancing their flames in the darkened room.

How peaceful this growing night has become from the heaviness of the day, getting here in one piece, losing Roach to that damn flying monster. Then reuniting with Yennefer once again, things have gone slow yet incredibly fast in the past couple days but you're grateful for the quiet now. For the contempt of the sleeping temple and the scented air of spices and candles burning from their wicks, dripping hot wax down the sides and onto the metal plates holding them up.

"Did you think of me after Aedirn?" She suddenly asks, voice more softer and sincere now as you two turn a corner to walk slowly down. Past more pillars and candles alike, some plants in brass pots even while you take a moment to answer.

"From time to time." You admit as she looks over at you.

Yennefer grins softly at your truthful words, "I thought about you quite a bit too."

"That I was frightening children in my down time?"

She laughs, "No, that they were beating you with sticks." The two of you share a small chuckle at her rightfully amusing comment as you keep wandering down the opened path.

Your smiles return to neutral upon your lips as you look to the ground before setting your crimson irises to her, almost looking like that of a crestfallen young girl, "After you left Aretuza for Aedirn, things didn't feel the same like they once did, more quieter, less bright. And visiting you in Aedirn, well....I couldn't exactly linger around now could I?" You pause a moment to take a breath, "Then when we met in Rinde, gods so much time had passed I almost didn't recognize you at first..not until I smelt the air."

You laugh a little, continuing, "Well between the smells of that magical orgy and all the wine in that house. But I knew it was you."

She lets out a breathy laugh, "As soon as I heard your voice behind Geralt, I knew it was undoubtedly you."

"Yeah, and what a time that was huh?"

"It was something. Quite the family reunion."

You snicker quietly before your amusement disperses and with that so does your smile, "Yeah.." You whisper, "...Sorry for never sticking around for too long when I did come to visit in Aedirn. I know you felt more alone at times then you'd have liked, probably could have used me here and there too huh?"

She shakes her head, "Don't feel sorry, Y/N. You'd never have been happy sticking around in Aedirn, or in any royal court to begin with, and then you'd never have met Geralt."

"That's....probably true."

"See." She nudges your shoulder, "Things happen because they're supposed to sometimes."

"Were you supposed to lose your chaos?" You ask softly.

She opens her mouth to speak but hesitates a moment before swallowing, "I don't know. And I don't know how to get it back, I don't even know if it's possible to do so." She admits dismally, violet irises diverting from yours when you lock eyes for a split second though this doesn't feel awkward in the slightest. Although it's almost like she wants to say something else but refrains, you can't smell anything false from her yet, though her heartbeat picks up ever so slightly.

You push the weird feeling away to give her a small smile, "Well, if unicorns can exist. And I can exist, I believe there must be a way to fix the missing part of you. And if not, know I am here for you always." She swallows quickly before blinking and turning her less dreary face to you.

"Thank you, Y/N." Yennefer then gives you a reassuring smile in return before raising a questioning brow, "What changed your mind about Geralt claiming the girl? You seemed so certain it was a mistake back then."

You let out a gentle sigh, "Many things changed my mind along the way. You among them. I thought if you could be a mother, want to be a mother so unselfishly and with pure intent, maybe so could I? Well, try at least."

She nods at this, satisfied with your answer before crossing her arms over her chest as you both keep walking, "I ran into Jaskier." You stop and turn to listen, deeply intrigued to hear about your missing bard, knowing you want more does she continue, "In Oxenfurt. He was in some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" You ask urgently, face dead series. What? You miss him.

"This fire fucker was after him. A mage. I don't know who he was." She shakes her head, "He was looking for information. About you and Geralt." You and Geralt? Interesting.

Your expression hardens as you think this over, brows furrowing in thought at this new highly valuable information, "He's looking for Ciri." The only logical and most probable answer of course, as you haven't pissed off any mage with a preference for fire magic recently.

"Why? What is she to him?" Yennefer takes a step closer, more curious then ever, expression a bit more urgent then you'd be comfortable to admit.

"Yen." You look at her intensely, scarlet irises flickering from her signature necklace to her face, "Your heart has been beating fast this whole time. You're nervous."

"So?" She whispers quietly, really hating how damn perceptive you are.

You give her a heartfelt look like that of a mother to her troublesome child, "Why are you here? Truly?"

She blinks, heartbeat still thudding swiftly away from within her chest, "I have some wounds that refuse to heal."

You think of a couple reasons but decide to press her for one, "You still want to have a child?"

She looks down, almost appearing to avoid your gaze, "No, it's-it's different this time."

"Well, let's hope it's different for the both of us." She looks up into your kindly scarlet irises as you give her a small smile, "I need to find Ciri." You nod respectfully before turning to the left and walking down the line of pillars and candles as she follows you at your side.

You pass a couple closed doors and a few more glass windows, just enjoying the nice little walk around the huge place before the scent of a young boys blood wafts into your sensitive nostrils, causing your pupils to constrict into two small black dots. The red in your eyes practically glowing as you stop dead in your tracks, Yennefer halting her movements as well as she looks at you strangely.

She knows that look.

"What is it?" Mutters Yennefer as she studies over your deadly concentrated face staring at a doorway, "Where's the blood?"

"Blood." You whisper faintly, hunger growing for a taste of the sweet flavor you've been chaste from for so long. Not since Sodden have you let yourself feed on the delicious natural elixir of the human vessel, what courses through thin veins under weak flesh. What is now, and shall always remain, your most mortal weakness no matter how many times you've tried to feel otherwise at the sight or smell. You cannot help the vampire in you, sometimes it's stronger then your human side in the most barbaric of ways.

You sniff, smelling the boys blood nearby down the pathway, his age, race, and fear that infuses itself into his crimson contents that lay out in the open for you to....no....Focus. He is the boy who took Ciri to the library, he is kind, he is innocent. Blinking hard do you walk quickly down the opened area between the pillars before halting once more, Yennefer doing the same as she sets her violet irises to you. Worry bubbling up inside her chest.

"Men." You tilt your head to the side, listening like a fox in a field for the hidden mice that move in the grass unseen. "Five of them."

You take off in an instant, running swiftly through the temple now, dodging past pillars and trays of candles alike as you turn a corner to be greeted by a group of men and Ciri backed against a wall with a curved wall of flames between her and the men. The long haired one in front with the burnt face that's scarring on the left throws his arms out like he means to harm her.

You're at her side in a second before he can do anything, he stops, causing the flames to simmer and die out at the misplaced confusion, expression showing clear befuddlement just as Yennefer runs into the room. He raises an intrigued brow at her, "Well, if I'd known to follow you to Oxenfurt, it would have saved me a spy mission to Kaer Morhen." Speaks the man slyly.

His men grip their weapons tighter as she walks to stand by your side, "Nice scar, shithead."

"Fire fucker?" You mutter in question at Yennefer. He sure smells like smoke and ash.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Your scarlet eyes study over the men, you let out a breath knowing how this whole interaction is about to lead, "Take Ciri. Bring her to Geralt, I'll find you afterwards."

Yennefer gives you a worrisome glance before turning and walking behind you to take Ciri by the arm, "Come on." She mutters as they quickly walk away as the men spread out a little, readying to gift some viable damage, you can hear a door close and lock in the foreground. They're safe for now and out of harms way, however you've found yourself in quite the predicament.

You steady your stance, eyes shifting from right to left as two men walk to your left side and two more walk to your right as the fire mage lingers back in the shadows. All other eyes sizing you up like a piece of meat ready for the taking, you glare at the lot of them before settling your crimson gaze to the fire mage, "You've brought them to their death." You seethe, staring daggers at his shadowed face.

The man smirks with a wicked grin upon his slender face, "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"I am."

A man on your right swings his weapon just as another on your left moves forward with dagger in hand, you swiftly dodge out of the path of the man's sword. He misses. You're quick to turn around and kick him into a table as the other three descend, the man with a dagger gets closest first. He grunts, arm swinging as he moves with intent to slash your throat.

He's not fast enough as you duck under his arm, elbowing him in the side of the head which causes him to immediately grow unconscious. Slumping to the floor like a sack of potatoes, dagger sliding out of his grasp and across the stone flooring, forgotten. The next man lands a punch to your shoulder with a quick hit of his clenched fist.

You make a face at the abrupt unexpected contact as he throws out another fist, you turn your body to the side when he punches, missing you by mere inches. His face gets close to yours from the forwardly propelled movement of his body, and the last thing he sees before getting thrown across the room is your red eyes flashing with anger like two rubies in the sunlight.

He yelps, landing in a mess of arms and legs across the stone, crashing into a brass pot that falls by his head. The next man thrusts his sword straight at your back, you can't see him do this but you can hear the sound of his limbs moving and his hot breath behind you. You step to the side just as the shimmering steel flies past your body, him with it, you quickly snatch him by his throat.

Fingers dig into his scruffy neck as he gasps, dropping his sword which makes a clang sound upon the ground. His hands immediately reach for his neck as you slowly suffocate him in your unnaturally strong grasp, something he clearly wasn't expecting. His eyes go bloodshot and glassy as he wheezes, veins popping underneath his skin as you can hear his heartbeat pound from within his chest.

His fingers claw at your arm as he struggles, you glare darkly, lifting him up higher so that he cannot touch the ground anymore. His legs kick from underneath him as he dangles, the light in his blue eyes fading with the harder you squeeze his throat. You catch movement to your left, the man you kicked into a table has woken up and is rightfully pissed about it. Fuck.

You tilt your head up at the man struggling to breath, "You really chose the wrong profession." His eyes widen as you add more pressure to your already heavy grip until you let your vampiric strength do the rest. His vertebrae cracks, tracheae and esophagus ripping and breaking from within as you fully crush his throat.

The man convulses a second as his spinal cord severs, your hand can't seem to relent until your iron grip holds so tight that blood begins to seep from out of his mouth and nostrils. When a couple red droplets land upon your skin does the pupils of your eyes constrict yet again, the delicious scent of fresh blood hitting your senses like a burst of saccharine perfume on the air.

You become like a woman thirsting in the desert after days in the hot beating sun all at once. Given a fresh icy cold glass of crystal clear water to drink, however if you give in to this heavenly temptation will someone die. And if you abstain from the drink of life, will you grow ever more wrathful and frustrated like a horny bull locked in a pen. You cannot stop this feeling as it grows.

Stupid men and their blood. Why are they even here?

You drop him instantly. He lands with a palpable thud sounding just like a wet towel smacked to the hard floor. You breath heavily just standing there like a statue, wide eyes staring at the warm blood droplets on your hand, you can't help yourself but bring the back of your hand to your lips. Licking off the delectable liquid like it's simple juice from a bleeding pomegranate in summer.

Delicious.

The man you kicked stops dead in his tracks as he watches you do this, you turn your head to look at him through narrowed eyes. Swallowing hard, you tilt your head at him, "Run." You whisper, forcing every fiber of your being to restrain yourself and stay where you are.

His confidence and valor returns to him as he scoffs, "I got payed for this, bitch."

"You didn't get paid enough."

He smirks before swinging his sword and taking a step forward, you take a step back when he swings, whole body lunging at you and right into your tight grasp that easily snatches his throat. His sword falls to the ground as you push him to the floor before releasing his neck to then sink your fangs straight into his vulnerable flesh. Your hands pin him down as he kicks and struggles underneath your strength that he cannot outmatch.

He cries out in agony as you feed, sucking out the life from his body with ease. Face growing paler by the second until something hard hits you over the back of your head, causing you to release the dying man as you tumble to the floor. Blood spurts across the stone from his ripped open jugular, leading a trail to you who's now gone, nowhere to be seen. All that's left is a puddle of blood as the hired mercenary blinks, perplexed, he could have swore you were just there. He could have been positive he just thwacked you off of his cousin with a broken piece of table.

You were just there.

The man steadies his breaths as he turns right and left and back again, making a full circle around himself but you're no where to be seen. He looks down, his cousin wheezes out his last breaths from the floor as a dark pool of blood forms around his neck. His friend lays nearby, throat bruised, swollen, and a little fucked up as he lays like a beaten dog on the floor. Eyes popped out of his sockets with lines of blood running out of his nose and the corners of his mouth.

He swallows thickly, suddenly realizing all that gold Rience paid him wasn't worth it at all. But maybe if he can kill you, whatever you are, then he'll get his friends coin and be a richer man then he came. However these thoughts diminish when a wet drop of something lands upon his cheek, then another, his brows furrow as he touches the liquid.

When he pulls his hand back can he faintly make out in the dim lighting a dark wetness coating his fingertips. Another droplet of this dark matter plops on the palm of his hand, staring at this strangeness with a puzzled expression does he slowly lift up his head to locate the source of the blood. He gasps in shock at the sight of you hanging upside down from the curved ceiling, blood all over your lips, chin, and cheeks. With eyes of glowing rubies, you hiss, baring your fangs like a nightmare come to life.

He jumps back in fright as you land upright directly in front of him like a coy vixen of death, close enough to touch now, too close for his comfort. He white knuckles the sword at his side, "Demon." Breaths out the man, terrified beyond belief as he whispers in a shaky voice, "Go to hell."

Your lips curl into a sly grin, "You first."

His arm moves up, sword heading for its mark when your lightening reflexes land a tight grasp on his forearm that halts all movement from the extremity. He freezes, breath caught in his throat as the two of you have an intense stare down while his heartbeat thunders within his chest from adrenaline and the sight of you before him.

Your grip tightens as you look into his soul, "Seems this world never fails to make a monster out of me yet. And you men never know when to stop." Your free hand reaches forward and back again in one proficient motion, the man's eyes widen as he begins to gag and choke on his own blood as it spurts out of a missing chunk of his throat.

You release his arm as he tries to cover the bleeding mess while falling to his knees as you take a step backwards. He falls forward, one hand pressing to the floor as the other attempts to stop the gushing mortal wound, he continues to gag and suffocate. A puddle forms and at last does he slump onto his side, letting it happen when a piece of his own trachea lands right in front of his face. Then he's gone, eyes staring vacantly at nothing but the wall.

You take a step back, shaking your head as you blink hard a couple times, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You shout, holding your blood coated hands up to see the damage you've done. Your eyes trail from your hands to the floor where his other two friends lay now, both clearly deceased, better place then this.

Suddenly you hear the sounds of the last mercenary to your right, he's by the pillar, you watch as he slowly stands before turning around and freezing. He glances from his unmoving and bloody companions to your blood coated cheeks and lips. He appears rather disturbed by this, disgusted even, you've seen these reactions all before.

Yet he takes a step forward in spite of his fear, picking up a fallen sword on the way before standing ready to kill. You smell something burning and turn your head to witness as the fire mage reaches the door both Yennefer and Ciri went into. He's trying to fucking burn it down! You turn to the man with the sword and scowl, "I don't have time for this." He will die if he means to even dare lay a single finger upon Ciri, or help aid in her pain.

He yells out before charging you anyways, sword swinging past your face as you step out of the way faster then he'd ever been anticipating. You practically moved in a blur; he whips around and swings again to only miss, sword kissing the open air as you casually walk over to pick up a fallen dagger. It's old and worn down yet a decent weapon that will do just as you need it to.

With dagger in your right hand do you square up with the man, standing a short distance away as he eyes you dangerously, rage flashing over his heated gaze. He growls before taking a single step forward with clear intention of rushing you, however, a dagger plant's itself right in the center of his forehead. Thus causing him to stop immediately in place as his eyes roll into the back of his head, a single trickle of blood seeping out of the bottom of the impaled dagger.

He goes limp, falling to his knees before slumping over onto the stone flooring right next to the man with a crushed windpipe, among other things. You take a breath before returning your undivided attention to the fire mage currently releasing his flames to the poor wooden door. And who's most certainly scaring the shit out of Ciri, and fucking Yennefer can't do a thing about it.

Although his aggressive assault of flames are halted when you've practically teleported to his side, snatching him by his hair and yanking back like you're some dirty fighter in a tavern brawl. The scar faced man yelps in surprise at the abrupt intrusion and the pain of your swift attack. He's on the ground before he can even blink with you kneeling above him, one hand around his neck and the other grasping his wrist.

He swallows thickly at the uncomfortable sensation of your hand pressing into his windpipe, still wet with the blood of his hired mercenaries. Yet the man below you smiles wickedly anyhow, "Aren't you a deadly thing?" He rasps as your grip tightens around his vulnerable throat, "Ah, ah, ah....I've got you too."

Your chest warms when he presses his free fingers to it, eliciting just enough heat to make it sting, and to force to you to lessen your grip on his neck. You grimace, face growing threateningly closer, "Fuck. You."

He raises his brows, enjoying this even with your grasp speaking death to him, his eyes never leave yours, "Beautiful as you are dangerous, no matter the mess upon your cheeks." He shamelessly flirts, keeping his glowing hot fingers to you still, "I never realized how much of a problem you'd become, regretfully I should have known better. But of course the heir to the Blood Throne could rip apart a couple mercenaries with ease."

"And what now dumbfuck?"

"Maybe we kill each other. Maybe we run away together?"

You scowl furiously, "Maybe I rip out your jugular."

"Not while my hand is here." You feel the heat grow as he smirks up at you with that coy fucked up face of his. He could be rather handsome if not for the gnarly burn scars and his unwashed hair.....maybe better personality, and life choices.

Your hard expression slowly turns into a closed lipped grin before breaking into a fangy smile that puts him on edge. Then in an instant have you released both grips from his neck and wrist to dodge to the side when he emits a ball of flame from his hand and into the door. He swiftly turns his sights to you only to be greeted with a clawed slash to the other side of his face, opposite to the burn scar. Another mark to show his battles with the wrong people.

The force of your violent attack sends him tumbling down the pathway past some pillars. When he stops sliding does he quickly get to his knees, hand holding over his bleeding face where three thin long lines stretch from his right ear, across his cheek, and over his lips to the end of his jaw and chin. A wound that will most certainly scar when it heals, a personal brand you've just given him.

He glares at you with hatred in his eyes as you take a threatening step forward to finish the job when suddenly he stands just as a distorted cloud of black smoke consumes him and he's gone. Portaling elsewhere like a goddamn coward. You hear footsteps and feel enchantment behind you as you turn around to watch as Ciri walks through a portal of distorted silvery colors.

"Ciri." You call after her though she's already through.

Your brows furrow as you lock onto the back of Yennefer who turns to see you looking at her through a spot in the melted door. And in this moment you know she means to follow by the look upon her face. Heart growing with confusion do you give her a puzzled look, "Yen. Stop." You affirm softly, unsure what's even happening right now or why they'd leave so suddenly with the fighting done.

She gives you an abiding last glance that marks regret and discouragement as she hesitates a moment, "I wish I could." Says Yennefer apologetically before breaking focus with you to turn around and walk through the portal without another word. Your lips part in dismay as the portal disappears into nothingness, leaving you alone in a room full of dead men and a singed door.

You take a step back, still breathing heavily, mind drawing a solid blank slate as you try and think of a reason for her to have just done this. She has never done anything so outwardly traitorous before, she never has ever once completed something so mysteriously selfish, never with something you have spoken of to care so much about.

You almost can't even believe it to be truth, she's gone....and Ciri is with her. The child you have been sworn by destiny itself to protect, the girl that you have grown to cherish and love more then you ever thought you could. A brewing anger flickers like a sparked match deep within your chest the longer you stand in the quiet gloom of the large temple. Broken and splattered in the blood of dead men with dark hearts.

You swallow thickly when the sounds of footsteps running down the hallway makes it to your ears. Your eyes shift up to land upon the burned hole in the door when the footsteps grow closer now until Geralt steps a few feet off to your right. He says not a word for a couple of seconds before resting his perplexed gaze upon you, "Y/N what happened?" He asks, clear confusion in his voice.

Your fists clench as your head bows in shame for the loss of Ciri and the conflicted feelings now towards Yennefer whom you thought you could trust. Feeling betrayed and defeated do you sigh, "I lost her Geralt, I fucking lost her." You whisper, deeply ashamed and brimming with fury that you can just barely speak of it. You can't understand, it doesn't make sense.

"Lost who?" He takes a step closer, "Y/N. Look at me. Tell me what happened?"

You lift your head to stare daggers at the wall from where they just left, "Yennefer told me she was hunted by a fire mage looking for us. Apparently he found what he was searching for, brought a couple friends with him too. Clearly."

"Yennefer was here?" Geralt glances from the singed door to you staring furiously at it, "Y/N. What happened? My love, help me understand."

You turn to look at him, face undoubtedly a blood smeared mess, "I killed his men. I couldn't get to him fast enough, he drew a portal to elsewhere." You huff in frustration, "Then fucking Yennefer and Ciri just walk through a goddamn portal themselves right in front of my eyes."

"They what?" He says in disbelief.

You purse your lips together in discontent, "You heard what I said." He gives you a look as you walk over to him, "We have a new problem now and unfortunately I trusted my heart more then my head, so my assumptions were right after all. And like an idiot did I ignore them."

"What assumptions?" He shakes his head, "Y/N what the fuck just happened? You said Yennefer was here, and a fire mage and..."

"Yes, and she showed up and I didn't know what for, she told me it was to heal and I didn't believe her but didn't press the matter, then she tells me of the fire mage who was after her. Asking about us." You throw a hand to the door, "The fucking psychopath who did that. But he was actually after Ciri."

You take a breath, blinking hard as you process your thoughts, "I think...I know, Yennefer needs Ciri for something too. I just don't know what or why? I didn't think she would betray me like this, I don't understand why she would do this disappearing act to begin with but I have a strong suspicion as to why."

"Why?" Asks Geralt, "What do you think would make her leave like this?"

"She lost her chaos." Geralt's hardened expression turns to a surprised understanding as you continue, "I feel that may be why she took Ciri with her. I just....I can't figure out why or how Ciri would be involved in any of her shit."

He sighs, expression thoughtful as he ponders his mind a moment, "Do you know where she would have gone?"

"No idea."

You then get a thought which causes you to part from Geralt, walking around him and over to the man with the missing jugular to search his corpse does Geralt watch you do this. Kneeling down do you look around the dead mans attire for something significant to give you an understanding into who and where he came from. Anything valuable really.

You lift up his hand just as Nenneke cautiously steps into the fucked up space that's going to need a deep cleaning, maybe even a prayer said, probably way more then that. She doesn't say a word due to her shock and processing mind but watch as you stick your hand inside the dead man's pocket before pulling out a coin and inspecting it carefully.

"Redanian crowns." You whisper in thought as Geralt steps closer to you, observing the coin as well. In Redania, but why there?

Nenneke looks from you to the bodies and the broken table, a more distraught expression crossing her features the longer she stares, "Melitele, I have failed you." She speaks solemnly and with a great bout of shame as she speaks her apologies to her goddess.

You look at her from over your shoulder, "Forgive me. These men were after Ciri." You let out a sigh before standing up and turning to fully focus upon her, "Our weapons?" Nenneke does not move, she does not change her stoic face as she stares at you, taking in your disheveled sight. So much blood.

With anger catching the wick within your heart do you clench your fists, taking a threatening step forward just as Geralt catches you by the wrist. Your scarlet irises are on him in a second though he is unafraid of your motherly wrath that glows bright in the shadowed dull blue light coming in from the stained glass windows.

Your expression softens as he gives you a nod before letting go and walking past you to meet eyes with Nenneke, "We need to find her." He says as she clasps her hands together, tilting her head up to look at him better.

"You need to let me help your dearly beloved over there." She affirms with a gentle voice brimming with deep concern that causes Geralt's brows to furrow, she touches his hands, "Y/N is in pain, let me help her first."

Geralt purses his lips together, "She's not safe to be around." He says quietly.

Nenneke gifts him a warm-hearted grin, "Has that ever stopped me before?" Geralt's head bows, golden eyes flickering from her dark irises to the floor splattered with blood. She lets go of his hands to step aside and slowly walk herself closer to you.

You couldn't even focus enough to pick up on whatever whispered secrets they were just discussing, you feel so full of frustration and hatred and hunger and sadness. Your fists clench so tight they could draw blood, breaths flowing in and out of you heavily from the fight and the rise in your nerves. You want to tear the temple apart and scream until there is nothing left of your throat.

You blink and Nenneke is a couple feet away, aurora gentle and calm as a spring morning while she sets her wise gaze to you and all your mess of blood and body that you are. A right feral thing to gaze upon. She takes a step closer anyways, "Y/N. Breath my child, focus on my voice and know peace."

Your jaw clenches as she takes another step closer, knuckles whitening, "I cannot feel peace. You cannot give it to me."

"Why does your lips speak this to me my dear princess?"

"Because I have failed and been deceived by my sister....at least I thought she was." You whisper, irritation clear in your voice, "I was blinded by my heart."

Nenneke stands inches from you now, expression kindly and soft, "Do you believe it is with malice?"

You swallow thickly, crimson eyes darting from hers to the wall and back to her again, "No."

She grins serenely, "Then bring yourself down from this rage inside, do not let it fuel you and let the flame of hate corrupt your heart." She reaches up to push a fallen piece of hair out of your eyes, "My dear Y/N, return to us from the shadows, set aside your darkness that killed these men so I may bring you into the light. Be human again, be part of our world that loves you so."

You take in a shaky breath, closing your eyes tightly as she sets her hands upon your shoulders, whispering to you, "Feel your breath flowing in and out of you now, remember your time at peace, remember the sunlight on your skin, the taste of bread in your mouth. Laughter and joy, remember you are loved and will always be loved. Come back to us from your pain, come back to us from your hate. Push away the monster inside you now, tame her bitterness and maleficence, you are Y/N."

Taking another shaky breath does your fists slowly unclench as you begin to relax, causing the Redanian crown to fall from your weakened grasp and cling when it hits the floor. Your face contorts like you mean to cry, fighting within yourself to keep in control and collect your bearings instead of screaming out or letting the tears fall. Your face slowly relaxes once again into a more neutral expression as you find your calmed breaths.

Opening your eyes of scarlet do they face Nenneke's dark ones, she watches as the constricted pupils of your eyes instantaneously dilate into what is conventionally normal for you. Eyes that are not ready to cause violence or let blood splatter against her temple walls, she knows inside you are now letting your more human side shine. And she is pleased with your resilience and heart.

Her smile grows as you breath, heartbeat calming the longer she holds your gaze, "Good, good, be at peace with yourself my dear. Easy now, let the hatred out with the breath, very good Y/N." She whispers proudly, giving your shoulders a delicate squeeze before pulling away and taking a step back as you fully calm.

Geralt watches from the center of the room with great surprise and relief, until now he's the only person alive who's ever been able to calm you down completely after going into a rage with bloodlust. It's not often this happens to you, but when it does can the results be tragic or at the very least incredibly messy. Either way, he's grateful to have Nenneke here to keep your wits about you.

Her gentle eyes look up into yours, "How did it break?" She asks, referring to the magical ball with the small links of chain attached to it, the very thing Ciri was holding hours before.

You glance down at the cracked object on the floor, "She does that to things." You reply before stepping aside to walk over to Geralt.

Nenneke nods, turning around to face you two, "If what you say about that girls power is true." You stop and turn around to give her your attention, she continues with an almost eluded gaze that flickers with sympathy, "You can't help her."

You immediately turn your back to Nenneke, "I'll find my own weapon."

"What I mean is," You stop to listen as she looks at your back, "Ciri needs more than you can give her now." She locks eyes with Geralt, "More than the both of you."

"I swore to protect her." He says, frustration clear in his voice, "Nenneke, I will not sit back and wait for something worse then a rouge mage and his agenda to happen to her. Neither of us will."

She sighs, eyes darting from him to the back of you, "Do you truly believe Yennefer means to harm the girl?"

You look at her from over your shoulder, "I wish Yennefer knew of the balance you spoke of." You can't help but turn around to face her fully now, expression serious and embittered, "More than you know, I wish it. But despite my feelings that kept my hope and love for so long, I learned my lessons about Yennefer and wishes. I know all this now, clearer then before."

"Sometimes, we assume the worst because we fear to hope."

You scoff before turning to walk away once again, Geralt right with you yet Nenneke persists, "How...can I help you? How can I help you? The both of you?"

You stop as Geralt does first, himself turning to face Nenneke just as yours does the same. He gives you a mutual look before setting his gaze to Nenneke, "We need you to open a portal." ——

Stepping over a mud puddle does your boots press into dirt and flattened bits of fish skins thrown out of someones window just above you, how long ago you have not a clue, nor do you care. All you care about is keeping your hood down low enough so that the upper half of your face is shadowed by the hood of your cloak from anyone taking notice of your crimson irises. The last thing you need right now is to be stopped and questioned by the goddamn people of Oxenfurt or Redanian soldiers.

Both who are not so particularly fond of elves or anyone not human to begin with. But luckily you were able to get your clothing cleaned before setting out on this newest adventure, seems magic does have its perks after all.

A couple children run past you, causing your cloak to sway against your legs at how close they were to you. Their laughter breaks the bustling air of a hundred voices all flowing together at once, besides that and the sounds of livestock, doors opening and closing and everything else.

While passing by a window does your nostrils gather in the scent of blood once more; elf, male, bleeding out of a hidden wound to his right thigh. You cough, trying to thrust the scent out of your senses before quickly covering your nose and mouth with the palm of your hand. Geralt takes immediate notice of this and swiftly takes your arm, leading you past a couple merchants until he turns you both down an alley.

His strong grasp loosens before his hands press you up against the back wall of some wooden house, "Control yourself, Y/N." Urges Geralt calmly, golden eyes flickering across your face.

Your eyes shut tightly before opening up to find his, you remove your hand from your lips, "That was me controlling myself. Might I remind you how much this fucking place reeks, I feel like I'm going to go insane from everything....too loud, too putrid the scents, too many people..."

His expression softens as he takes the sides of your face within his hands, "Then just focus on me. Just me." Whispers Geralt, "It's just me and you right now. No one else, nothing."

You release a slow breath, gaze lingering onto Geralt's as you find your focus. Feeling his gloved hands upon your skin, his hot breath against your face, his scent you've loved since the moment you met him long ago. You touch your hands to his, bringing his hands away from your face to hold them, "Okay. I'm okay, I'm in control." You then give his hands a light squeeze, "Thank you."

Geralt gifts you a handsome grin in return, "There's my Y/N." He muses, "Now when we go back out there, try not to piss anyone off or scare them. All we need to do is find Jaskier."

You scoff, "Right. How hard can it be? Find a bard in Oxenfurt in this shitfuck of a town, I'll certainly do my best."

He presses a gentle hand to your shoulder before giving it a light squeeze, "Be nice. We need to find him." You give him a loathed look to behold, he knows how much you hate traveling through bigger towns and kingdoms alike due to the certain aromas and people produced. Things he can't smell nor hear half as well as you can, he can only try to imagine the stench and great annoyance of the Redanian people.

At the face you give him does Geralt throw you a warning look, "Y/N."

"I'm nice, I can be the kindest fuck you've ever seen in your life."

He snickers a little at that, "I know you can. Now come, let's find what we can and see if there's a trail leading us to our bard." You roll your eyes just as he swiftly steals a kiss upon your lips before pulling away and heading out of the alley.

When he's made his way into the opened path of the street do you reach his side, "The fuck was that?" You half-hardheartedly interrogate.

Geralt shrugs with a small smile upon his lips, "Just looked as though you needed it."

Shaking your head at him do you look away, "Yeah....well....shut up." Geralt simply chuckles to himself at your semi-flustered reaction to being randomly kissed by him like you two are new lovers traveling for the very first time.

But you'd be a damn fool to say you didn't enjoy it, it's truly the little moments that get you so much.

You soon pass by a couple men chopping up blooded chunks of lamb, a cart full of blankets of all colors of the rainbow, a woman reprimanding a cat in the street, and more people just walking around getting to wherever they need to go. Your gaze trails over the alleys as you pass, ears listening for gossip or the sounds of a lute gifting her spirit of song to the masses. But you hear nothing, see nothing relating to Jaskier at all.

Turning a corner lets your inquisitive gaze lock onto a few whores standing off to the side of the street, somewhere in between heckling and showing provocation for whoever passes by. You give the side of Geralt a nudge, "Idea."

"What?"

"Them." His eyes scan ahead to find a pencil thin whore sweet talking some old man who appears like he'd rather be smacked by a fish then do whatever this woman has just suggested.

"You think they'd know where he is?"

"It's worth a try isn't it?"

Geralt hums, "Fine. You ask."

"Why me?"

"Because you gave the suggestion first."

You give Geralt a hooded look, "Coward."

He makes a puzzled expression, "Y/N.."

You raise a hand, "Speak less." You then give him a wink, "Watch and learn a true seductress perform. If I don't know where Jaskier is after this you may need to pull them off of me."

He simply rolls his eyes at you, though a humored grin remains anyhow, "Sure, sure. And if they don't know where he is, or they happen to be immune to your seduction, what then?"

"What then you ask? Oh you silly man, they will tell me one way or another."

"And if they don't legitimately know, hmm? What then?"

You stop near a stall selling honey and cheeses, expression thoughtful, "I'll figure it out. Just stop questioning me you craven so I can talk to the scary big breasted women who'd love nothing more then to get you into any position that their wicked hearts desire."

"Alright." He crosses his arms over his chest, "Just find out if.."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Jaskier." You mutter in a mockingly Geralt voice, taking a step away from him, "Right, the bard you left alone on the mountain. Remember that?"

He gives you a look, "So did you."

Stopping in the middle of the muddy street do you give him a look, "So did you." Speaking mockingly yet again in his low tone of voice before resting a hand on your hip and turning around, "Fuck off." You sass with a flick of your hand like he's some common peasant boy.

Geralt snorts at your dramatics anyhow, watching as you saunter across the street towards the whores attempting to pick up random strangers going about their business. While getting closer to a fair skinned woman with lavender hair can you pick up the potent scent of all four lined against the wall. Baths? Who needs them? You force yourself to continue onward anyways.

Hood still up and shadowing your eyes can you soon catch the sight of the lavender haired woman with a plethora of cleavage you hadn't cared to notice until now, it's hard not to, there's just so much of it. Way more then you possess that's for damn sure. Her dark eyes soon land upon you casually walking closer to her, a brilliant grin making it's way onto her admittedly beautiful features. No matter the dirt smudges on her cheeks....and her smell.

She raises an intrigued brow, flicking a piece of hair off of her shoulder, "Now what's this?" She says slyly, deeply interested in this hooded mystery woman walking over to her now.

Your smirk is witnessed under the dark hood, "Have I caught your eye, or have you caught mine?" You question with a cunning voice that sends shivers down her spine.

She tilts her head at you still hooded and ever a mystery, "Hmm. Yet to be determined. May I see this foxy traveler finding herself in my presence?"

"If you ask nicely."

She giggles to herself, folding an arm underneath her breasts as she waves you off with her other hand, "Oh you sly thing. Very well, may I see your face I am just dying to catch in the sunlight this fine day?"

"You may."

She bites her lip as you give her a small bow of your head, hands reaching up to slowly pull your hood back until two brilliant eyes of shimmering rubies stare back at her. Paired with a face that could make both men and women fall to their knees begging for more, for just a night with you're exquisite vessel. She's never seen anyone so beautiful in her entire life.

"My, my, my, you are just as your voice reveals to be." She marvels, mouth slightly parted in awe.

"And how is that?"

"As alluring as the first flower of spring." She says before gifting you a coy smirk, "Not an elf, and certainly not a human such as myself. Are you a nymph?"

"Not a nymph. But someone lucky enough to have blessed my eyes upon your angelic body." Butter her up, that's it. You give her a fangy smirk, "And a fine day it is, much finer now."

She bites her lower lip, "I don't care what you are, I can be whatever you'd like. Names Olenna, but I'll let you call me Enna, all my friends do."

"Well Enna, may I ask you something?"

She instantly nods, "Anything."

You take a step closer just slightly into her personal space though she doesn't mind this new close proximity at all, not even when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Just a small question, nothing much at all. And I believe you may have my answer."

"I could." She whispers, completely entranced by your radiance, "I know many things, many many things um..uhh."

You give her a little smile, "It's Sivyra."

"oh. Sivyra."She repeats, "What a beautiful name."

"My father gave it to me, it means great wind in my peoples mother tongue." You whisper, gently and provocatively emphasizing on the ending word, creating a lasting thought in her mind that sends a shiver down her spine once again. So easily she falls for you, it's almost pathetic but honestly at this point you're having too much fun.

Her dark eyes quickly flicker from your lips to your scarlet eyes, "Sivyra?"

"Yes?"

"What is it you wanted to ask of me?"

"Right. Smart thing you are, aren't you?" She giggles when you gift her a wink, "Now, I want to know if you've got any idea as to where any bards may be hiding their talents in a place like this?"

"A bard?" Her brows furrow at this, "What would you want a bard for?"

You gently caress the side of her cheek to draw her confusion back to you, "Because I myself am quite fond of the arts, music in particular, and I don't just spend a night with anyone without the sounds of a tuned melody in the air."

She stares at you in awe, "oh."

"Yes. So my dear Enna, what does that inquiring mind of yours have for me? Do you truly know a thing or two about the happenings of Oxenfurt or will I have to ask one of your friends?"

Her eyes flicker from the other whores then back to you, she quickly shakes her head, "No, no, I know of a bard."

"Hmm, do tell."

She smiles, "The Sandpiper is his name, he's a marvel I tell you, knows how to strum a lute and what a voice. You could do as you'd please listening to him all night...do anything really...anything at all." Her hand moves to touch your hair when your grasp is quick to stop her, she gasps, nerves sparking with excitement at your strong touch. Heartbeat picking up when you giver her a teasingly warning look.

"The Sandpiper you say? And where can we find him now?"

"Now that, that will cost you." Says Enna, gaining her confidence back, and by the way that her eyes flicker with mischief can you tell she knows something you don't.

You raise a brow at her, "Cost me hmm? Seems you know of something highly valuable to me, speak of it you coy vixen or lest your time with me this night will be all that more feverish."

Enna bites her bottom lip at your alluring words, batting her lashes at you like a rosy cheeked maiden, "As you wish, m'lady." She drawls, "The Sandpiper, he won't be singing any longer for us if you can't somehow manage to pay off the guards holding him prisoner." Finally.

"Prisoner? So our lovely bards in a cell as we speak, now this is troubling news." You make a disappointed face to further sell your part, "So it would seem I must be the one between the two of us to pay this debt, for I refuse to have a night spent with as glorious a woman as you with lack of music. A tragic thing that would be, a dreadful thing even."

Enna grins brightly, "I can take you to him."

"You can? How splendid." You let go of her arm before taking a step back, "Lead the way my dear." She giggles, pressing a hand over her heart as she picks up a piece of her long semi-dirty dress that looks as though she stole it from a talented seamstress.

Enna gives you a playful little curtsy, "Follow me." Her grin never falters as she turns to swagger past her fellow whores with you following behind her. As she walks ahead speaking about something you don't truly care about do you turn your sights to a deeply astounded Geralt still standing by the honey stand.

You nod your head in the direction of the babbling whore, mouthing from across the street, "Come on." He shakes his head at you before taking a step to walk, soon following you and the whore down the streets of Oxenfurt from a safe unassuming distance.

Oh you are quite the marvel indeed, thinks Geralt as he watches you go, and all his.

Thanks for reading everyone! More chaos to come..

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