#We do NOT need more arachnomorphs

[eyeballcommander]

So you hate kids on the warship, understandable. What if Captain Tim has kids though, or even Lord Hater himself, the two who outrank you? Can you even do anything about that?

No, no I cannot. But one's a worst case scenario and the other is biologically impossible.

[pokamocha]

So I was rewatching WOY again, and I realized something during The Ball episode (S1 Ep13b).

There’s probably a post somewhere years ago pointing this out, but idc—I want to, "put that passion on the paper!"

Spoilers btw!

We all know why Wander helps, “The helper seeks to help because he knows what it is like to be helpless” (The Wanders, S2 Ep4a). He went through something so life-changing—most likely traumatic—that it ironically helped him become the Wander we know and love.

Now during The Ball episode (S1 Ep13b) after Beeza explains how this doomsday is basically routine at this point and before they all board the ship, Wander gives a speech:

“Y'all have put so much work into this pretty little planet. Don't you want to try and save it? I know you're scared of Buster, but if you keep running, that's all you're ever gonna be doing! You have a chance to change that. You just have to turn and face your problems head-on!”

“…but if you keep running, that's all you're ever gonna be doing! You have a chance to change that.”

He says that while looking at his hat longingly as if this situation reminded him of a bad memory.

I genuinely believe Wander started out as fearful.

I believe he ran away and hid at the first sign of danger when he was much younger, immature and inexperienced because he didn’t have a chance to save or defend what he had. He lost something very dear and precious to him—whether that be his family or his home-planet (or both), we may never know.

However, how he reacted to those bouncing phantom mimes in The Heebie Jeebies episode (S2 Ep19b) proves my point. Wander’s first instinct when encountering danger or something scary is to scream, run away and/or hide—and at times freeze in place.

Usually he’s able to override that stress response throughout the show if there’s someone needing help, “When I see someone who’s a-needin’, I just gotta help!” (The Fugitives, S1 Ep2b). Take the episode The Pet (S1 Ep4) as an example of this.

Wander nervously searches the ship for anyone alive only to encounter an arachnomorph he lovingly christened Captain Tim. His first reaction is to scream, and it doesn’t sound like an excited scream either.

Only after he gets tackled does he collect himself and switches gears from being afraid to being ready to help because he changed how he looked at the creature.

At first, he saw Captain Tim as this terrifying monster (he even admits to Sylvia that he knew Captain Tim is dangerous later in the episode, twice) before almost immediately doing a 180 degree and choosing to see Captain Tim as an abandoned pet that needs tender love and care.

It's not just this episode either. The Greatest (S1 Ep1a) shows how scared he is of Lord Hater when they first officially meet until he chooses to—not only help the planet's residences—but to also learn more about Hater so he can help him later down the line.

The Search for Captain Tim (S2 Ep19a) is another example when he shows up with a wanted flyer knowing full well that the creature is carnivorous and remembering what Captain Tim tried to do to him.

It’s even more apparent during the last episode of season 2, The End of the Galaxy, where Wander is terrified of Lord Dominator yet tries to continue befriending her despite his fear and despite what she says and does.

He's able to get through his fear if it means helping someone in the process.

We also know that Wander seems obsessed with the idea of helping others to an alarming and unhealthy degree. Being unable to not help someone in need gives him anxiety that builds up over a short amount of time until he can’t take it anymore and gives into his immense desire to help (The Fugitives, S1 Ep2b).

Even when he was sick during The Sick Day (S2 Ep20a), he still tries to help when it impedes on his own health and well-being.

Since he’s over 1000 years old, he most likely lost that chance to rewrite or make amends with what he originally went through that made him feel helpless in the first place—and I wouldn’t doubt it if he regrets it deep down or thinks bringing up his past is unimportant since nothing can be done anymore.

Heck, Sylvia calls him, “a man of mystery,” in The Waste of Time (S2 Ep17b) which later when they both successfully end the time loop it erases that interaction from existence. Wander doesn't disclose what exactly happened to him to be helpless in The Wanders (S2 Ep4a).

He chooses not to go into detail about his past.

Going back to The Ball (S1 13b) episode, he doesn’t just give a speech and tries to help because that's the right thing to do. He tries to help because he sees how the Ballzarians were choosing to lose their chance by willfully fleeing from their home-planets because of Buster, and Wander could not accept that.

"Whew! I wouldn't want someone else to go through what I went through" (The Wanders, S2 Ep4a).

He needed to help them because he himself was not helped.

Having to watch someone else go through the same experience was devastating for him. That's why he took control of the ship and crashed landed it on Buster.

Unlike the Ballzarians, I believe he did not have anyone in his life to help him when he was helpless, nor provide the opportunity to make a change in his circumstances.

He had to become his own helper.

In The Wanders episode (S2 Ep4a) when Sylvia finds the last Wander to complete himself again, the little Wander is terrified and cowering in the corner. He doesn't trust her until she reassures him, "It's okay, I won't hurt you." This reaction from Wander only makes sense if he was used to not receiving help.

Now, I’m sure as Wander helped others, they helped him back (some probably didn’t and took advantage of him). However, Sylvia was the first person who—not only reciprocated that same love and care he tends to show towards everyone—but also the first person to stay by his side afterwards. She became his new home.

We know how the two met in The Waste of Time (S2 Ep17b), but we don’t know how they became enemies to best friends. But, I genuinely believe Wander’s kindness played a part in softening Sylvia’s heart.

With all this said, I believe he started out as a coward, then became a stereotypical hero, until finally being transformed into the wandering helpy helperson we know and love today.

Or I'm reading waaaaaaay too much into a silly little cartoon about helping others and self-improvement from a decade ago idk tHat’S jUst a tHeoRY lmao

Anyways, thank y’all for coming to my TedTalk—expect more WOY art in the near future! 👋🧡

[stuckinuniformdevelopment]

@bishop-percival

(Previous) Mike nodded. “If we could find out a way to get his robe away from him, I think acid could be pretty effective.” He watched intently as Teddy x’ed out a page and flipped to others. He observed how the pages were chock full of writing and, yes, “diagrams.” This notebook was just filled with assassination plots, wasn’t it? If anything, this just further confirmed Mike’s suspicion that murdering Bishop Percival was a goal of Teddy’s from the start. Mike was filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. What a failure he was, letting an infiltrator run amuck in his organization, even aiding him in killing his bishop, his idol… No, the circumstances are different and said bishop needs to be disposed of. It’s actually a blessing to have someone to help him with it! But— What if— It’s just— Argh! Mike turned away to hide any sign of distress that might be on his face and tried to stuff these annoying thoughts down and focus on the pressing conversation at hand. “...Maybe we could still use the portable teleporter for something else. What other wacky science-y gadgets could you borrow?”

"So you're confident that it's only the robe. When does he take it off?"

Teddy briefly glanced up at Revenard Mike and was satisfied with what he saw. A tad guilty, yes. Yet by this point his sympathy had all but dried up.

More importantly, it was precisely what he needed to convince him to take him seriously. Surely the lovely artwork alone proved that he was too, ah, determined to back out or even hesitate.

After taking a moment to think Teddy answered Revenard Mike's question. "The portable teleporter is the upper end of what I can do." And that was largely because the construction department had lax security compared to the science department.

"As for others..," He put his hand on his chin. "I have clearance for lighters, hazmat suits, gas masks, various incapacitating agents, poisons, neurotoxins, spores, hydrogen peroxide, capsaicinoids, and of course, arachnomorph acid."

"Speaking of: I should give you arachnomorph-proof gloves, boots, and a helmet ASAP. A prototype uniform too if you can tolerate the drawbacks. Or a labcoat version to minimize direct skin contact."

"Now, for what I can borrow... projectile launchers, night vision goggles, assorted abandoned prototypes, grappling hooks, transmitters, drones, bombs, and nuclear waste would be easy to pull off. The rest may require more preparation."

[annmarcus63]

He wanted to say "I love you"

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Here's on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34237159

Injured Jaskier

"Blessed silence"

"Would you shut up, bard?"

"If you don't stop within the next two minutes, I swear, I'll break that fucking lute and shove it down your throat"

"Jaskier, shut up!"

"Alright! I'll stop, there's no need to be such a brute" replied Jaskier while tucking the lute, currently on his hands, on the brand new case he bought a couple of days ago to a retired musician living his last days on White Orchard. It's gorgeous, orgasmic, almost as sexy as the lute.

The music notes slowly fading in Geralt's ears, leaving a weak hum behind. Geralt sighed relieved, and a suspicious feeling that may resemble guilt. But there's not time to dwell on it. He's trying to sort the potions and required ingredients to complete the contract which he needed to follow up  that same night. Witchers were trained to tune out every sound to be able to concentrate. He could meditate for days with not a single thing to bother him, but Jaskier's chatter is a powerful contrary spell to the calmness he was used to. It's a possibility that Jaskier fell upon his path with the sole purpose to test his limits. He is good company but sometimes Geralt wonders if it's worth the trouble.

He needs Arachnomorphs' venom and Griffin's feathers and blue mutagen to brew the antidote to the potent venom of the Endrega warrior he's goin to face. Methodically he starts with the preparation, grind and mix, smell, taste, it hurts...it's ready.

Three weeks ago he received a letter from Eskel asking to meet for pressing matters. Geralt doesn't know what he may want, it maybe a problem with a powerful beast or just a call to drink, which is unlikely because the message seem urgent. So Geralt had to hurry if he wanted to catch him on time, he was two days late and if he doesn't kill the Endrega he'd be three days late. Traveling with Jaskier prevent from a fastest pace, and the reason of those two days were, of course, the bard who asked him to stay longer on White Orchard to wait for his new lute case. Geralt ponder all this with an edge of bitterness towards Jaskier, it's unfair and uncalled for. He feel like shit. He ponder it still.

Jaskier is capable of recognizing when he's being a nuisance. Or well...he can recognize when someone has reach their limits regarding him. He can be too much, he speaks too much, he moves too much, he whines too much, he thinks too much. He's considerate you see, when Geralt snaps at him he understands. He can't help it. Is what he is, and he's not going to change, he tried once for his father. It didn't work, Jaskier was giving too much away for the acceptance of one person, he conclude it didn't worth it.

He understands really, but today Geralt has been a little over the edge, and has crossed the line between banter and plain rudeness.

So the logical response is to be more annoying.

Jaskier can be awful too when he wants.

He prod the wild and stressed animal with meaningless chatter, why does the fire moves like that? is the color of my fingernail normal? have you ever wonder how it'd be to become a fish?

the wild animal spill one or two drops of the antidote while pouring it from the small wood plate in which the ingredients got blend. Jaskier swear have saw how the vein on Geralt's forehead pop.

Ups…

"Would you SHUT UP for once in your fucking life?” ok he seen that coming “I can't even hear my own thoughts, bard. When we reach Velen you're going to stay there. Do you understand? Not following me around anymore”

To be fair he has caused this. It's what he does, always, being and idiot with and incessant mouth. He has push too far this time, even so that tone on Geralt's voice put him on edge, angry even. That ungrateful witcher and his never ending foul mood. What would he give to see him smile more often?

Everything.

A heavy atmosphere settled on the camp, Geralt's angry and now Jaskier's too, offended to be more accurate. Jaskier hated these often-occurring moments, as if the bard were a stranger and not a years friend.

Are you though?

Whoever sent the letter is Geralt's friend. What give it away? the eagerness to travel fast for instance. Jaskier send a letter once, asking if he wanted to meet at Novigrad, he never received a response nor Geralt went there.

Geralt packed his things, secure the sword straps and with a particular tenseness on his shoulders he turn to Jaskier.

"You're going to stay here. HERE Jaskier. I don't want you anywhere near the nest, the poison..."

"I know"

"Then I want you to repeat it"

"What? Really? I'm not a child, Geralt" but the Witcher kept his stance, waiting, and Jaskier's a sucker for pleasing.

"I'm going to stay here, quiet and still. If I get near the nest there's a high chance to get poisoned, even a small dosis could kill me. And get my body back and bury it would be a big hassle for you Are you happy now?"

"Hmm. I'll be back by midnight"

Geralt disappeared between the trees and Jaskier watch him go with a big lump on his throat. Not five minutes later he started cleaning the broth pot to fill it again with clean water to drink to warm up his bones. How he wish to have tea or coffe to add.

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Wind's howling, Jaskier reflected, feeling the chill colouring his cheeks and breaking his lips unpleasantly. Besides the wolfs living on the wind, there was silence, a sepulchral silence that caused him feel unsafe. Even Roach looks in distress. An hour ago she was lying on the grass getting ready for a good night sleep, and now she's looking everywhere as if she can sense something lurking in the shadows, and that is scary. By the position of the moon Jaskier could guess the time, one and a half hour past midnight. That idiot witcher should be here by now. He knew that, Roach knew that, so why he's not here?

He couldn't think straight, the worry was eating him up from the intestines and it wasn't fair or unnormal, worrying for Geralt is like worrying for the sun to never come up again. It may happen but is unlikely, impossible.

Geralt is fine, he is, or at least is what he kept repeating himself for the past hour like a mantra that no one would ever listen.

Something went wrong, I'm sure. He'd be here by now so why he's not here? What if the Endrega chew his head off? that's sudden and crude Jaskier, what's wrong with you? He can't be dead, I mean I didn't even get the chance to apologize, to clean his wounds, to buy him breakfast, to tell him I love him with all my beating foolish heart.

Agh, but he's not dead, so stop that train of thought right this instant, young man.

For some reason the voice sounded like his dead mother.

"I need to go there only to see if he's safe" said Jaskier to Roach

"But he said rather rudely to you to stay put and not bother him." replied imitating Roach voice like a tired housewife.

"I know what he said" said with an air of petulant child. "And what about you come with me to keep me in check"

"It's dark you can't see and it's dangerous"

"But you can!"

"Fine, hop on me" he loved winning arguments.

He saddled Roach efficiently, Geralt rarely let him do it but he was a quick learner. He put out the fire with a kick of dust, took a small blade that Geralt kept at the bottoms of his bag just in case, he also lit the only torch they carried for emergencies, a beacon of light that Geralt could see if he was in trouble and rode Roach towards the clearing next to the main road from which people get disappearing and getting eaten.

He trusted Roah to guided him, she was a clever one who also worried for her master.

The cold kept biting his skin even under the small fire, he left his cape at camp in case he needed to run, but they're getting closer. A wooden statue with flowers and canisters at it’s feet appear by his right, the notice board said the location of the insect was near that god statue.

He stoped Roach and dismount then he took the short blade wishing he didn't have to use it, before leaving he remembered the possibility of encounter with poison, according to Geralt Endregas not only spit venom but also exuded poisonous gas equally lethal. So he took his undershirt to cover half his face, this might prevent breathing it.

The turned out the torch because the light would attract the Endrega and distract Geralt.

He walked slowly to north realizing how much he was trembling, it wasn't that cold. It was fear and the soft hum of the adrenaline waiting on his brain for being triggered.

And then a rancid and potent smell reached him despite the undershirt. There. A thick unnatural mist and a series of small mountains piled some meters away. No, not mountains, bodies, Endrega bodies lying on the ground slaughtered with efficiency. A witcher’s work.

He almost missed it because of the mist, but there he was, Geralt, lying on the ground in a tragic pantomim of his foes. Jaskier hurried to him almost tripping in the process, he kneel by his side and got shocked by the hardened veins on the witcher's forehead, his levels of toxicity must being dangerous high. But he wasn't dead and if Jaskier wanted to keep him like that he needed to take him away from the mist to help his body fight the secondary effects of the pocions.

He looked the number of bodies surrounded them, more than six when the contract said one Endrega.

He have to be quick so he wrap Geralt by the armpits and with all his strength started to drag him towards Roach, he couldn't risk bringing her here in case of the poison or another insect near by. Geralt was a big guy, he has always being attracted to that, now not so much. Sweating, weary and scared.

Sweating, weary and scared the bard dragged the witcher to Roach when he started to feel dizzy followed by an annoying scratching under the skin. Roach stamped her feet two times before getting closer, she nosed her master while Jaskier catch his breath, then the lovely girl crouched down and wait patiently.

In a matter of a blink, his head started to pound violently and his vision to get blurred. That wasn't good.

The poison, it's the poison.

With all the strength he got left he pull Geralt on his belly over Roach, the position wasn't ideal but it was all he could do before collapsing on his knees.

"Go Roach. Go" She stood with must carefulness, Jaskier watched her go feeling a rush of pride and victory, he saved Geralt, he'll be alright and that was all that matter.

Jaskier fell backwards hitting his head with the ground, his body started convulsing or at least that's what he thought before lose consciousness.

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An insistent poke on his ribs brought him to wakefulness followed by a fall and a sudden sharp pain on his side. A few seconds later the witcher take in his surroundings. Roach neigh by his side, he had fall from her. The heavy cloud from exhaustion and toxicity still rested on his brain.

He felt the bitter tang on the back of his tongue of venom running thru his system and the hollow pain that remained. There were eight Endregas...yes, the Endregas, he had fainted on the clearing knowing well that he might not woke up again if he kept on breathing that mist. How did he get there? Roach answered with a distressed stump of her foot.

"What?" he asked the horse, and she neigh.

Jaskier

"Fuck."

he search on his pouch for White Honey to swallow it in a big gulp.

Awareness returned quickly and despite the injuries and aches on his lef side he took Roach's reins and guided her back to the clearing.

Back to Jaskier, he hoped to not be late, please let him be on time, he begged to no one in particular.

The contract said one Endrega, imagine the surprise and horror he felt when encountering a nest with full grown ups monsters which position were stronger and their hunt abilities an excellency when attacking in pack. He drank the three vials of antidote he carried and a dose of Swallow that burned his stomach and shot the toxicity levels to a mortal point. The Endregas were all dead, but tired and injured he collapse defeated. The position of the moon indicate that was dead for at least two hours during which he continued to breathe the poisonous gas, half and hour more and he'd be dead for good. Jaskier went for him, he could smell him on Roach, his fear and urgency. Idiot, that idiot.

Geralt tried with all his might to not think him dead.

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At the feet of the statue was Jaskier, body bent in an awkward angle. Geralt removed the undershirt on his face, recognizing it as a clever tactic. The mist did not reach that area but the purple and green tone on the bard's skin indicate high levels of poison, he must have went thru the mist to reach Geralt drag him back to Roach.

“Fuck, Jask”  said Geralt with a trembling voice and without thinking carried Jaskier to Roach, there'll be time to check for injuries for now he have to take him back to safety. Jaskier's heartbeat was slow, very very slow. Geralt fret but he did not relent.

He laid Jaskier's frigid body on the bedroll and with Igni he started the fire, he located the water Jaskier used for tea and used to clean his hands of the grime and dirt. A choking noise alerted him and Roach who was nosing the bard.

From Jaskier's nose a dark liquid started to flow, he was drowning from the inside which meant that he had breath the poison and it was filling his lungs with thick mucus.

He put Dandelion on his side and encouraged him to vomit with his fingers to clean his airways as soon as possible. Jaskier throat convulsed on his fingers followed by a steady dark flow. Geralt reached for the pot by the fire to put it under his mouth, which soon was filled to the brim.

"That's it Jask, that's it" Geralt whispered even though the bard couldn't hear him. With a clean cloth, he wiped the bard's mouth once the flow stopped and her lungs sound clear. It was then that Geralt noticed with overwhelming fear that the other had stopped breathing.

"No, no, Jask come on come on"

He acted fast by lifting Jaskier's chin and placing his clasped hands in the center of his chest and began to push down hard more times than he could count.

“Jaskier come back!” he growled when his shoulders felt like jelly, he was getting tired and Jaskier wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing. He remembered Renfri choking on his arms a reflection of what was happening here. Not this again, not these again. Jaskier's mouth opened follow up by a weak gasp and a weaker heartbeat.

But he came back, and Geralt almost cried right there and there, but he didn't know how. There's nothing else he can do, he had no medicine of herbs for poisoning that could help humans, everything he had was lethal. He instantly regretted overlooking the possibility of this happening. He was traveling with a bard and the most responsible and considerate thing he could do was prevent and buy at least herbs just in case. But he didn't. They were at least a day and a half away from the next town and being that far from the capital meant fewer healers. Jaskier wouldn't survive the travel, not on this conditions.

If the poison hasn't killed him by now then it means that he could survive on his own, or at least that's what Geralt hope.

He put Jaskier in one of his shirts and covered him with all the available clothes they had, his cape and even the blanket with which he covered Roach.

Exhausted he started removing his armour to clean the now faint slashes on his chest and abdomen, then he walked like death to Roach to remove the saddle and pet her gently thanking her for her help.

It was an hour before dawn, but Geralt did not rest, he could not even if he wanted to. He sat next to Jaskier to check his breathing and keep the fire burning.

The fever hit the bard a couple of hours later, he was burning dangerously high, Geralt dipped a cloth on clean water to place on his forehead, from time to time raised Jaskier's head to feed him with water.

His heart didn't stop again which was a blessing amongst the terrible situation. Jaskier didn't deserve to die like this, not for Geralt or monsters.

Then the hallucinations began, feverish and confused, Jaskier babbled under his breath while trembling furiously. He smell like sickness and decay and in that exact moment the witcher missed the natural perfume of the bard's skin. Like sea breeze and orange tree. Like Jaskier.

By day two Geralt got assaulted by an all consuming wave of guilt. He had yelled at the bard for being...well, himself. He was so upset and it was so easy to insult and threaten to leave him in the next town.

Jaskier hated to be left behind.

"Why did you came for me, you idiot?"

"I don't deserve it" whispered before taking the now warm cloth to dip it once again on cold water. Instead of improving, Jaskier's condition began to deteriorate. Painful spasms convulsed his body for hours, the fever did not subside and his breathing were shallow and slow. Geralt lay next to him that night to keep the tremors at bay, he hold him carefully alongside his body.

"You do remember the night after Posada when we make camp and you asked me to cuddle you because you were cold?" He whispered into the night "I didn't. If you were awake I'd never hear the end of this. You'd love it"

The bard moaned softly and shook slightly under his grip. "Come back to me, Jask." He meant to say how sorry he was, he doze off instead.

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First he felt heat on his face, then a relentless pressure on his head as if a heavy stone was on top of it Little by little he maped his body and the multiple aches that alarmed him. On his chest underneath the skin his ribs screamed with fire as if he have been kicked hard multiple times, also his lungs burned like hell, his shoulders were stiff and sore, his belly hurt faintly.

What happened? Where is he? What, what, what, what

"Jaskier Jaskier. I'm here, breathe thru your nose, I'm here." Suddenly he realized that he was sitting up and wide-eyed. It was noon. "Jask" kneeled next to him was Geralt with a worried frown and a canister fill of water. He snatched it from Geralt's hands and drank as if a desert was kept inside his lungs.

"Easy"

“Not…your…horse” Jaskier flinched at how raspy his voice sounded. Beside him, the witcher chuckled and then stretched out his hand to put it on his forehead. Before Jaskier could react at the soft touch tha hand was gone.

"Fevers down" uh, did he sound happy?

"I had fever?" Geralt looked at him with such intensity, a expression he had never seen and therefore didn't know what it meant.

"You almost died" he answered softly. She saw Roach grazing without a mount a few feet away, she also noticed that Geralt was in his small clothes. The camp was a small mess like when they stay on the same place for more than two days.

"The Endrega"

"Endregas, yes"

"I went..."

"Yes"

"I... i'm sorry"

"No, don't be, you saved me" It was a shock when Geralt straightened a lock of hair from her forehead. His fingertips were warm.

"Are you hungry?"

"I don't know. I don't think so"

"You have to eat. I cooked rabbit broth, it'll do you good"

He could only swallow a quarter of the broth before starting to feel nauseous, Geralt said he had vomit enough for the past days before taking the pot from him. Roach came to say hello and Jaskier felt his heart swelled with affection. He wanted to do and ask more, but suddenly he felt tired, very tired, his eyelids fluttered and when Geralt saw him, he helped him lie down and put his cape over him. He was soft and calm, tender even. At that moment Jaskier knew that he must have been in a bad shape if Geralt was acting like this, like Jaskier always imagine on his wildest dreams.

He wanted to said thank you but it felt so meaningless at the moment, Geralt didn't look that good, slump and with drop shoulders a clear sign of exhaustion. if Jaskier still breathed, it was all thanks to Geralt, despite how defeated he was from the contract, he took care of him.

I love you seem something meaningful to say, every feeling and thought Jaskier have had of the witcher, taking form into three little words.

Sleep took him away before he could have the courage to say it.

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The next morning Jaskier insisted he was fine and he wanted to travel to the next town , of course he was a liar Geralt always knew when he lied, because he wrinkled his nose in a cute but irritating way. With a small smile, he pinched the bard's nose back to normal.

“No, you’re not ready” Jaskier let out a laugh as he smack the witcher's hand away. and before Jaskier could protest Geralt added "But we need go there to get you to a healer and reastock"

"Your letter Geralt, don't forget about your letter"

"Uhmm"

Before setting off on the journey, Geralt made sure that Jaskier could endure the journey. He applied what was left of a soothing balm to Jaskier's chest for the pain and bruises that remained after the compressions. Riding would be painful, but they have to get to the healer in case of a relapse or permanent damage. Jaskier let him applied the balm and he couldn't believe the patience and care the witcher put on his motions as if Jaskier could break if enough force was used. He was crumbling in tiny little pieces, melting, but from a different source. The witcher is going to be the end of him one day of these.

I love you, we wanted to said. He put on one of Geralt's shirt instead, it smells like onion and Roach and Geralt and smoke and safety. It smells like home.

·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  · ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ··  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  · ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ··  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  · ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·

Riding Roach was painful and tiring, walking was out of the question He kept waiting for Geralt to get upset by the multiple stops they made but that never happen, in fact the witcher was the one who plannified and suggest to rest every one or two hours.

Something has changed between them, but the bard does not know what to name this new atmosphere, but he sure welcomes it. For the first time in all the years they have travel together Jaskier felt wanted, cared for, treasured! With a rush of happiness and satisfaction, Jaskier acknowledged that the walls Geralt has built around him to keep him out and stranded, have collapsed. He finally was someone to hold on to. Jaskier was sitting on the bed roll with a warm tea canister on his hands while the witcher set up camp to sleep the night. A day and a half away from the next town has become two days, they'll be reaching the inn (if it were any, Jaskier hope there would be) by night fall.

Geralt was stoking the fire when a mad idea occurred to him, he crawled to Geralt and before he could voiced his displeasure the bard embrace him in a tight hug. Two seconds later, Geralt hugged him back almost urgently, nuzzling his face where Jaskier's shoulder and neck met. He withdrew with a goofy smile on his face and his heart hammering on his bruised ribs, he couldn't care less. But he didn't get any far, he was a selfish man. Geralt was smiling too, a soft and crooked smile, when he straightened the bard's hair over his forehead and ears, he then, like under a spell trace his thumbs over his eyebrows and eyelids. Jaskier could die right here and then from happiness.

Their faces were so close. I love you, Jaskier wanted to say, he took Geralt's hands instead to place a kiss on each dirtied palm.

"You reek" of course Geralt would know how to break the moment.

"You too, mister. For once Roach smells better than us"

“She always smells better tan us” Jaskier snorted getting back to the bedroll pondering on how lucky he was despite the near death experience, he was a lucky men.

By the next afternoon Jaskier was beyond exhausted, every single one of his bones scream with pain, he felt as if he was about to pass out at any moment.

"Geralt..."

"We have to get going, Jaskier, only for a few hours and we'd get there"

"I can't"

"Please, Jask, I'll take care of you when we get there"

Please, what a strange word to express how much you care.

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Geralt practically carried him up the stairs to the room, Jaskier fell face first on the bed already half sleep. Geralt was placing his things when the bard murmured “Wake me up before you go in the morning." The thing is that even if he were on time to reach Eskel, Geralt didn't want to go anywhere.

Jaskier woke up sometime in the night when the mattress sagged next to him.

followed by a strong arm curling around his belly.

"Grlt'?"

"Sleep"

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Jaskier woke up to the chirping of birds on the windowsill, it was still early, the sun was not up yet. Not even the drowsiness could prevent the joy he felt and finding himself tuck to Geralt chest, they're facing each other naturally as if they have sleep like this forever.

And like a bucket of cold water thrown over him he remembered the letter "Geralt" he called softly "Geralt it's morning"

"Hmm, I can see that" came the sloppy reply, but instead of getting up Geral cuddled him more, practically tucking his face against the other's.

as if sensing his distress Geralt added "I'm not going anywhere"

"But your contact..." he withdrew (a few inches) to make a point. Geralt opened his perfect eyes and hold him under them.

"Eskel, my brother. I already send a letter, he'll understand"

"I'm sorry" a kiss was place on his forehead

"Don't be, I want to be here"

"You...you didn't want to" Geralt sighed ashamed

"I know and i'm sorry. Now I know where i belong"

"Here?" replied Jaskier with a snort

"With you"

"With me?!" Now was Geralt's turn to snort happily, resembling Roach when they feed her apples.

"You risked your life even though I was an asshole to you, even when I told you that the poison would kill you if you got anywhere near the place. I...I'm sorry"

"You were an asshole, yes" Geralt gifted him with a smile full of teeth "To be fair i was behaving like a brat at the time"

"You are a brat, yes"

"Hey"

Jaskier wanted to say I love you, instead he kiss Geralt's lips softly.

Geralt wanted to do better, so better he did.

[advena87]

Kaer Morhen shenanigans (but mostly Lambert’s) part 8

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story, Aiden & Lambert’s love story and… this.

.

Eskel: Can I keep this goat?

Vesemir: No.

Eskel: Why not? She’s so cute, I named her Lil’Bleater.

Berengar: Because she’ll hurt and annoy everyone.

Vesemir: And she will destroy everything.

Eskel: But you basically just described Lambert!

Geralt: He has a point. If we can keep Lambert we might as well keep the goat. She can't be worse than him.

Vesemir: It's hard to argue with this logic…

***

*brekfast*

Lambert: Give me a vodka on the rocks. 

Geralt: Lambert, it’s 7 in the morning. 

Lambert: And a piece of toast. 

 *a moment later*

Geralt: Eskel, we just ate. Why are you making pancakes?

Eskel: They’re for Lil’Bleater.

Berengar: Why are you making pancakes for goat?

Eskel: She doesn't know how.

***

Lambert: Um, guys?

Berengar: What now?

Lambert: Can animal breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Berengar:

Geralt:

Eskel:

Eskel: Where’s Lil’Bleater?!

*a moment later*

Berengar: *leaning against a wall with Geralt while they watch Eskel try to catch Lambert *

Berengar: Amazing.

Geralt: This is the worst chase I’ve ever seen in my life. How has Eskel still not caught him?

Berengar: Lambert is pretty fast, and if he caught him, he would probably kill him. Tbh I don’t think Eskel really wants to touch him. You never know where he’s been.

Lambert: Eskel, calm down! This goat was stinking, someone had finally wash her!

Eskel: YOU CAN RUN BUT ILL STILL BE IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!

***

Vesemir: I can’t believe how drunk you are!

Lambert: I am not drunk.

Vesemir: Yes you are!

Lambert: I am not!

Vesemir: Can you tell the time?

Lambert: Yes *turns to point at clock* I am not drunk!

Vesemir, pointing out of a window: Lambert, do you see that over there? Running between the trees?

Lambert, confused: No, I don't. What is it?

Vesemir, now looking directly at Lambert: It's my patience for your stupid drunk shit, running away from me again!

***

Berengar: Wow, I really like this new, abstract, surrealist, post-modern painting of this depressive and tormented person.

Lambert: Dude, that’s a mirror.

***

Berengar: The fact that I exist literally pisses me off sometimes.

***

Vesemir: What are the signs of teenage depression?

Geralt: Why are you asking?

Vesemir: Berengar was doing laundry earlier and he dropped a sock and I heard him say “why has the god forsaken me”.

***

Vesemir: Where's Berengar? I've been looking for him all day.

Eskel: He’s been in the shower.

Vesemir: All day?

Eskel: Pretty much. He takes really long showers when he gets depressed.

Vesemir: Well, when do you think he’s going to come out?

Eskel: I don't know. He took a chair in there.

*a moment later*

Vesemir and Eskel: *knocks on bathroom door*

Berengar: Who is it?

Eskel: It's us, we just wanna talk.

Berengar: How many of you are there?

Vesemir: Two.

Berengar: Then talk to each other.

***

Vesemir, calling Lambert: Hello.

Lambert: What?

Vesemir: Lambert, you should identify yourself when you answer the phone.

Lambert: Sorry.

Lambert: *thick sarcasm* The Kaer Morhen keep, major disappointment speaking.

Lambert: Better?

Vesemir: *sighs in defeat*

***

Lambert: Hey guys- Why are you all standing on table? Are you playing a game?

Geralt: Yeah, we’re playing “we saw a young arachnomorph in the castle and don’t know where the fuck it went”.

Lambert: *scrambles onto table*

***

Lambert: I’ll think of a plan, I’m the best at plans.

Eskel: No. You’re not.

Lambert: I am! Name one bad plan I’ve come up with.

Eskel: Blowing up the rock troll in the castle tower.

Berengar: Starting a bar brawl because you forgot your wallet.

Geralt: Ritualistically sacrificing Eskel.

Eskel: Putting Lil’Bleater into the washing machine.

Geralt: Throwing bombs inside the castle.

Berengar: Take fisstech and go hunting for a Water Hag in brothel.

Geralt: Ooh, so that's why they kicked you out of there!

Lambert: …

***

Vesemir: I'm disappointed

Lambert: And I'm tired of hearing this shit. You're disappointed? Let's think about it: Brengar has depression and suicidal thoughts, I have drinking problem and anger issues, Eskel's best friend is a goat, and Geralt is a slut.

Geralt: Wait, what?

Lambert: And tell me Vesemir, whose fault is that?

Vesemir: It's not your job to question my parenting methods.

Lambert: Why not? I find some of your methods highly questionable.

Geralt: I'm not a slut!

***

Geralt: Ok Lambert, we need you to distract the guards.

Lambert: Right.

Berengar: What are you gonna do?

Lambert: I'm gonna kill them. That ought to distract 'em.

Geralt: I said distract them, not cut them down!

Lambert: There is just no pleasing you sometimes.

Gerlat: Lambert!

Lambert: FINE. I'll take care of it. No killing, I promise.

*Lambert leaves*

Geralt: What do you think Lambert will do for a distraction?

Eskel: He’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and all the horses fled*

Berengar: ...or he could do that.

Geralt: …

Geralt: Fuck. It’s time for Plan B.

Berengar: We have a Plan B?

Geralt: No, but it’s time for one.

*meanwhile in another part of town, Vesemir on a date with countess Mignole*

Vesemir, to Mignole: Hah, look at those idiots getting chased by guards.

Vesemir: Wait.

Eskel, Geralt, Lambert & Berengar: *yelling in the distance*

Vesemir: SHIT- THOSE ARE MY IDIOTS

 *later*

Vesemir: I can’t come today, sorry.

Countess Mignole: Why not?

Vesemir: Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Berengar are all in the hospital.

Countess Mignole: Oh my, what happened?

Vesemir: Varying degrees of idiocy.

***

Eskel: With all due respect Geralt, have you lost your fucking mind?

Geralt: That's with all due respect? And since when you use the fuck word?

Eskel: You took advice from Lambert?!

Berengar: It’s called hitting rock bottom, Eskel.

Geralt: It's called following Vesemir's directions. He always said: „In the unlikely event that you encounter something that is not covered here, find a man named Lambert of Kaer Morhen, get his advice, and then do the opposite.”

Eskel: But you did exactly what Lambert told you!

Geralt: Because it was good advice.

***

Vesemir: Eskel wants to become a witcher when he grows up to kill monsters and help people in need. My other son, Lambert, wants to be a porcupine so he can stab people with his butt.

***

Vesemir, before the young witchers set off on their first independent journey: Eskel, you should look after Lambert.

Eskel: What do you mean? He's a witcher now.

Vesemir: That doesn’t mean he actually knows what he’s doing.

*later on the path during dinner*

Lambert: Okay, guys, who wanted the macaroni and bees?

Eskel: ...

Gerlat: You mean cheese?

Lambert, struggling to keep the bowl covered: That does make more sense, actually.

Eskel: I'm starting to understand what Vesemir meant.

***

Lambert: Your existence is confusing.

Vesemir: How so?

Lambert: Your presence is so fucking annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

Berengar: It's called Stockholm syndrome.

Lambert: Ah yes, another issue on my long, long list.

Berengar: I think you may also have PTSD.

Lambert: Yeah I have PTSD.

Lambert: Proficient Talent for Sucking D-

Vesemir: WE ALSO need to talk about your use of humor as a coping mechanism.

***

Vesemir: Everyone always asks me how I handle running the witcher school.

Vesemir: The truth is, I don’t. I have no control over them whatsoever. This morning, Geralt called my name, and when I showed up to see what was going on, Lambert shot me in the throat with a slingshot.

.

[dsudis]

Wojsiłek, the Warhorse of Destiny

OKAY SO I was just defending Lil Bleater’s honor as Eskel’s real true goat pal but I was also thinking about that @ruusverd-witcher​ had a point about how we need more stories about Eskel’s Warhorse of Destiny, Scorpion, so I went to look at the wiki--honestly because I couldn’t remember if there’s canon about whether Scorpion is a stallion or gelding? and it turns out the wiki is silent on that topic, possibly because the challenges of dealing with a stallion on the Path versus the challenges of having to use the word “gelding” in a manly man action hero power fantasy video game seems like a problem the game devs would happily sidestep.

ANYWAY. What the wiki did tell me was this:

In the Polish (Original) version the horse is called "Wojsiłek" which translates to "Mecoptera." Which is an order of insects sometimes called "Scorpionflies," hence the name "Scorpion."

And I was like AW, ESKEL, YOU NERD, YOU NAMED YOUR HORSE AFTER A TINY BUG. But then I thought that that was odd, because like, if you like butterflies you don’t name your horse Lepidoptera, you name it Monarch or something, right? So a taxonomic name is a weird choice, and that made me wonder if that was really quite the right translation, contextually, so I went looking for anywhere else the word “Wojsiłek” might turn up, and that is how I discovered the absolute LANGUAGE NERD RABBIT HOLE TREASURE TROVE that is this page on Gamepedia listing all the original Polish proper names for things in the books with the versions used in the English translations.

Scorpion, the Warhorse of Destiny, only appears in Witcher 3, not in any of the books, so the Wojsiłek in that wiki had to be something else, and indeed! It was listed under monsters, with an English version of “mecopteran”--so it’s a lot more like spider monsters being called arachas or arachnomorphs than a dude naming his horse after the technical classification of a bug he likes. Okay! Progress!

So! Mecopterans! I’d never heard of that monster--probably because it’s only mentioned once, as it turns out, in Part 5 of “The Voice of Reason”, the interstitial story stringing together all the stories collected in The Last Wish and I blocked out pretty much all of that for my own sanity. In this part, Dandelion has come to talk to Geralt and wants to know why he’s so depressed about the state of the world.

"... I ask around for work. Certainly it's there, but what work? To catch a rusalka for one man, a nymph for another, a dryad for a third ... They've gone completely mad--the villages are teeming with girls but they want humanoids. Another asks me to kill a mecopteran and bring him a bone from its hand because, crushed and poured into a soup, it cures impotence--"

That's rubbish," interrupted Dandelion. "I've tried it. It doesn't strengthen anything and it makes the soup taste of old socks. But if people believe it and are inclined to pay--"

"I'm not going to kill mecopterans. Nor any other harmless creatures."

(You heard it here first: Book!Dandelion would absolutely eat ground rhino horn on the off chance he could have even more sex afterward, and advises Geralt to kill endangered animals and sell them to superstitious dudes who wanna fuck dryads for the paycheck. Joey Batey’s Jaskier would never.)

So THAT is what a wojsiłek is, to Geralt--or to Eskel. A little ... flying monster with hands ... (like... a bat with a scorpion-ish tail? pangolin with dragonfly wings?? who knows) that is harmless and only in danger from jerk humans who want witchers to kill them for stupid reasons.

THAT’S WHAT ESKEL NAMED HIS HORSE AFTER. Not a dangerously venomous overgrown arachnid, but a lil flying dude ... with little hands ... who would be getting a closeup in a commercial about protecting overhunted wildlife if that were a thing on the Continent. 

Like. Do non-witchers THINK mecopterans are dangerous?? Or did Eskel just name his horse Wojsiłek so that he can ride into town and be like “oh you want me to jump on my horse, Endangered Flying Pangolin, and go kill you some endangered flying pangolins so you can get your dick up, huh? Hmmm.”

(Third option: Eskel got Wojsiłek as an awkward little foal or yearling and watching him run around on those long black stick legs reminded him of the slightly unnerving but kinda cute long wing-fingers of mecopterans, and that is how he named his badass warhorse Weird Monster Fruitbat.)

In any case I am feeling good about having decided to name Eskel’s pre-Scorpion horse Honeybee--a flying thing that people try to kill for no good reason and should really just leave alone.

[jaskierswolf]

The Viscount and The Witcher pt.3/4

(Note: Reposted from my old blog. The rest can be found on my Ao3 or on my pinned masterlist)

Geralt visited the Lettenhove Estate on a regular basis after that fateful day. He hadn’t intended to. He’d intended to forget all about Viscount Julian and Dandelion the bard, but the man had wormed his way into Geralt’s head, like poison in his veins. Dandelion, Julian just didn’t suit him, wrote him letters every time Geralt found himself in the area and Geralt gritted his teeth and mounted Roach every single damned time. The first time he’d ridden in the opposite direction for about ten minutes before he’d noticed a patch on cornflowers at the side of the road. He’d sworn and turned Roach around to help clear an arachnomorph infestation from the kitchen.

The monstrous spiders had turned out to be just normal house spiders, big ones but still easy to squish under one’s boot. Dandelion had whimpered about spiders being scary and had practically jumped into Geralt’s arms when one had started to crawl up his leg. Geralt had rolled his eyes but allowed the Viscount to cling to him. He didn’t stink of fear despite his act of jumpy cowardliness but Geralt didn’t call him out on it. He was rather amused by the whole scenario and he left the castle with a purse filled with coin, not a bad reward for killing some spiders.

The next claim was a bruxa in the wine cellar. The bruxa had been a friend of Dandelion’s, stark naked with dark hair tumbling down in front of her breasts. Geralt had taken one look at her tanned skin and turned back out of the wine cellar, Dandelion babbling excuses after him.

After that had been a werewolf in the shed which had turned out to be a large dog.

Then a harpy nest on the roof which was just chicken eggs in a bundle of straw.

Each time Dandelion would follow Geralt around like a sad lost puppy. He would insist on feeding Geralt, or ordering him a bath if he was looking too travel worn. Geralt grew used to having the blond’s vibrant blue eyes watching him as he undressed, he enjoyed the casual touches to his arms and chest. Dandelion didn’t even seem to realise he was doing it. Every time that Geralt was close, those soft gentle hands would reach out, brushing a strand of hair from his face, or squeezing his arm, or stroking across his shoulder as they passed each other.

Geralt had even begun to call the man his friend, in the privacy of his own mind.

Dandelion had now claimed that a dragon was terrorising a local farm. Geralt didn’t even hunt dragons and yet he still found himself galloping off to meet Dandelion at his estate. He didn’t think too much into it. He told himself that if he didn’t go then it would inevitably be the one time that Dandelion was telling the truth.

The wannabe troubadour was standing by the entrance to the manor as he galloped up the path to the house. He dismounted from Roach whilst she was still slowing to a walk and landed on the ground with ease. Roach whinnied and trotted around the front of the house towards the stables, she’d been here enough time by now that she’d learnt where the best hay was.

“Geralt!” Dandelion greeted with a charming smile. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Dandelion flung his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt grunted but returned the hug, enjoying the soothing scent of lavender that always hung to the Viscount. He resisted burying his nose in the crook of Dandelion’s neck, that was too much temptation. How would he restrain himself from peppering the soft skin with kisses, from leaving dark bruising marks beneath the soft blond curls that tickled his jaw?

Instead, Geralt pushed the Viscount away and scowled at him.

“A dragon?” Geralt asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Really?”

Dandelion flushed prettily under his cobolt blue hat. It was a striking colour on the Viscount that made his eyes shine and sparkle against his skin. Geralt’s throat went dry as he allowed his gaze to drink in the sight of the blond. Dandelion preened under the attention like a fancy peacock.

He was truly a sight to behold.

“Well.” Dandelion sulked. “It might have been a forktail?”

“In other words a goat with wings stuck to it.” Geralt surmised.

Dandelion gasped and placed a hand on his heart. He stumbled backwards slightly and his hat almost fell from his head. “Geralt” He whined. “At least ride out to the village with me, my dear witcher.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Roach is tired. We rode hard to get here. Dragons are dangerous beasts.”

Roach was fine.

He’d only been in the next town over.  He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it.

“Oh of course.” Dandelion beamed at him and put a hand on his hips. His tongue flicked out and brushed his lower lip. He had a habit of doing that and it drove Geralt mad. “Well you are more than welcome to rest here for a while. Food? A glass of wine perhaps? Or maybe some company?” Dandelion practically purred.

“Food would be good.” Geralt agreed, his stomach rumbling as if it had heard the Viscount’s words.

Dandelion pouted but ushered Geralt into the house. “It’s too early for dinner but Hanna won’t mind if we raid the kitchens. Come Geralt.”

The kitchen was warm, just like at Kaer Morhen, and the aroma of freshly baked bread and sweet buns filled the room. Geralt hummed contently. There was something incredibly grounding about the smell of freshly baked bread. Dandelion flitted around the kitchen with ease, searching the cupboards for some plates.

“I haven’t done this since I was a child.” He admitted, smiling brighter than the sun. “Hanna used to smack me over the bottom if she caught me stealing sweet buns.”

Geralt chuckled. “Well I’m not doing that so get it out of your head.”

Dandelion’s heart raced in his chest. “Geralt!”

“Dandelion?” He smirked.

“You bloody tease.” The Viscount muttered under his breath and carried on his search around the kitchen.

Eventually there were two plates pile high with pork pies, cheese, and honey covered rolls. Geralt moaned as he bit into the first pork pie. It was delicious. The Viscount’s cook was clearly a very talented woman.

Dandelion’s face was colour of roses and he nibbled his own plate of food. After a few minutes of eating in silence Dandelion sighed dramatically and swept his hat from off his head. “Gosh it’s hot in here!”

He fanned himself with his hat before abandoning it in favour of undoing the buttons on his doublet. Geralt watched, entranced by the Viscount’s fingers as they nimbly made light work of the buttons.

He swallowed and frowned before shaking his head.

“So the dragon?” He asked through mouthful of pastry. “What type?”

Dandelion’s melodic laughter filled the room and Geralt’s heart. “Why a golden dragon of course!” He announced with a wave of his hand.

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Dandelion!” He snapped.

“What?” The Viscount whined.

“Golden dragons don’t exist. They are just a myth.” Geralt growled.

“Oh.” Dandelion stuck his tongue out as he thought. “Could have been a red dragon?”

It turned out that the ‘dragon’ was a horse… with wings created out of old doublets and sticks. One of the villages was riding the horse with a torch burning in his hand and yelling at anyone who came near the stables.

Geralt threw Dandelion an exasperated look. The Viscount just pouted at him and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Well it’s not my fault there haven’t been any real monsters recently.” Dandelion’s hand lingered on his arm.

The setting sunlight hit the blond curls on top of Dandelion’s head. Geralt tilted his head as he gazed at his friend. He gently removed the Viscount’s blue bonnet and tucked it under his arm, then he captured a lock of blond hair in his fingers, just liked he’d seen the viscount do on many occasions. It was just as soft as he’d imagined, the curls springing back into place once he released them.

Dandelion was staring at him openmouthed, blue eyes shimmering in the light of the setting sun. “Geralt?”

“Hmm?”

The Viscount’s heart was thundering in his chest, his sweet lavender scent grew only sweeter under Geralt’s touch. “What are you doing, my dear?”

Geralt blinked at the question and pulled his hand away.

“There’s no dragon.” He replied sternly. “Farewell, Dandelion.”

Dandelion sighed forlornly. “Farewell, my darling.”

____________

Dandelion was slowly going crazy stuck in his old castle. It had been three years since he’d first met Geralt. Over the last three years he’d played his part perfectly. He summoned the witcher at least once a year with cries for help and pretend monsters. Geralt rode out to meet him every single time. Dandelion was sure that Geralt knew his monsters were fake, that was part of the game, and yet every time Geralt insisted on focussing on his hunt and ignoring Dandelion’s propositions.

Well, not ignoring them entirely.

Dandelion didn’t miss the way the witcher looked at him like he was the sweetest chocolate to be unwrapped, amber eyes dark with hunger and lust.

And yet the damned surly witcher had never acted on it.

Dandelion had practically thrown himself into the witcher’s lap, begged him to take him away on one of his adventures, pleaded with him to allow Dandelion to be more. He needed more, more than this house, more than this life.

Geralt’s fiery eyes and silver hair haunted his dreams. Dandelion had woken up many a time with Geralt’s name falling from his lips, false memories and Geralt’s gruff voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

His choice in lovers had shifted since meeting the witcher. He found himself drawn more to well built men over pretty maidens with perky bottoms and luscious golden locks. There was just this itch that he couldn’t scratch, no matter who he bedded. He was pretty sure it had something to do with the way his heart skipped a beat every time Geralt galloped up to the house on Roach.

He hit his head on his desk and moaned.

“My Lord Viscount. What you are asking is preposterous!” His lawyer gasped, dumbfounded.

“Kings and Queens can abdicate.” Dandelion answered firmly. “I have had enough!”

“There is no coming back from this Viscount Julian.” The lawyer countered. “If you regret it—”

“I won’t fucking regret it!” Dandelion insisted. “There must be some cousin or other distant relative.”

“You’ll lose everything.”

Dandelion hit the desk with his fist. “I simply don’t care!”

“Viscount Julian. I beg you, please reconsider.”

Dandelion glared fiercely at the other man. “I should have run away when I had the chance. I was going to you know. I had clothes stuffed into my lute case and ready to go, but I didn’t. You’ve had me trapped here for thirteen years but no more! I’m more than this, this place.” He threw his hands up and gestured at the study.

But the fool still wasn’t listening. Dandelion stood up and declared the meeting over. He was going to get his lute and leave.

It was time.

He could follow Geralt’s trace on the path.

He could track him down and they could travel together. Maybe he’d actually see a real monster for once.

That was if Geralt even let him come with him. He hoped he would. The witcher did always come when he called for him. That had to mean something, but if it meant something then why did he always push Dandelion’s affections away like he’d been burned? Dandelion scoffed. It wasn’t as if he was repulsive, he was well aware of his good looks and he knew when someone was attracted to him. Maybe Geralt thought that Dandelion was just out for a good fuck. It may have started like that but after three years surely Geralt could see how much their little games meant to Dandelion? For someone that was observant, Geralt really could be an oblivious brute.

He sighed.

Maybe it was time to give up the games. He’d showed his hand over and over again. Geralt could have no doubt about Dandelion’s intentions. He was really quite in love with the witcher. He flirted, he danced, he preened, all to gain moments of the witcher’s attention. Seconds of pure torturous bliss when Geralt would smile dangerously and lavish Dandelion with flirtatious words that made him feel weak and wanton.

No.

It was the witcher’s turn now. Dandelion was done with wearing his heart on his sleeve for scraps of the witcher’s attention.

The witcher would come to him, wherever that may be.

“Viscount Julian! Wait!” The mousy man called him back. “A compromise, if you please.”

Dandelion cursed and turned back to face the man with his hands on his hips. “Go on.”

“Your cousin will take over the estate in your absence, but you will remain Viscount by title. You will need to return to the estate once a year, and you will need to stay here for a little while until your cousin arrives.”

Dandelion narrowed his eyes at the man and sighed. Spring was just around the corner. He could enjoy the warmth of his house until then. There was no point freezing to death just to be spiteful. “Two weeks. No more.”

He turned his back with a toss of his hair and practically skipped out of the room.

[fatcatsarecats]

Xavierine witcher ficlet! Inspiried by my screaming at @gerec‘s askbox and @traumschwinge’s xavierine ficlet. i hope you guys don’t mind me tagging you guys in as well!!!

Many thanks to @irelise and @jackyjango who helped bunscheme this into shape!!!

—

If Charles knew Logan well, and he very much did, then the reason Logan hasn't answered any of his summoning Ravens is because he's been mucking around in some dingy cavern on either a treasure hunt or a Witcher Contract. Indeed, a quick location spell and a portal later, and Charles finds himself sinking his boots into a pile of hairy, but thankfully dead, arachnomorph legs. His nerves almost jumps out of his skin, but he doesn’t let himself cringe until he’s carefully climbed his way down the pile.

Times like these he’s grateful for his leather gloves and his study of magic. An enchantment sharpens his eyes to the darkness, and he finds Logan crouching by the mutilated body of an arachnomorph, holding a knife as he palms through its spilled innards.

"Watch your left."

Charles ducks fast enough to miss a small section of an arachnomorph leg sailing through the air. A thin silver, line of its blood splashes on his arm. He stifles a shudder, and with a burst of magic, waves his clothes clean again.

Lord, the sodden smell of algae is nothing compared to dead, squished spiders.  

Logan doesn’t pay him any mind. He’s probably already smelt Charles coming the moment he stepped out of the portal. Even though he’s tied his hair, strands have plastered itself to his forehead, drenched he is from the cave waters and… other things  

Which simply won’t do. A burst of magic thickens the air, and Logan grunts when he finds himself clean again.

“You could’ve washed away some precious extract, you know,” Logan grumbles.

Charles stifles a chuckle. “If they were as precious as you claim it to be, then it wouldn’t be splattered all over your clothes.” He walks to get a better look at dead the spider. "Charming," Charles says, scrunching his nose. "A contract, is it?"

“Ealdorman’s son went missing. Tracked his body down outside the cavern.”

“That poor boy,” Charles mutters. “So they sent you out here.”

“Nah, just thought I’d clean place up and maybe stock up on supplies while I’m at it.” Logan bags a couple of sticky, bright blue mutagens, before getting to work on it’s heart. "Can't let good ingredients rot to waste."

"Joy."

"Scuttly little bastards they are," Logan says. "Could've used your help when they were ganging up on me."

Charles raises one eyebrow. "If you had answered my calls, then I would have been happy to help. But, of course, you had to make it hard and camp inside a cavern."

Logan huffs in amusement .“All my fault, huh.”

“Always,” Charles says, his lip twitching. “Although, consider yourself forgiven if you save some of that saliva for me.”

Logan thinks on it, then he dips his finger into a pool of saliva. He scoops out a thick glob and offers it to Charles.

“In a vial, Logan.”

Logan barks out a laugh. "I forgot how sticky and pungent their webbing is. Wouldn’t be surprised if wads of the shit has slithered under my chainmail."

Charles shudders, batting at Logan’s hands, and Logan laughs even louder. As he always does when he purposely grosses Charles out.

"As... engrossing as it is," Charles says. “Aren't you going to ask why I've called on you?"

"Can't it be for my pleasant company?"

“Ah, yes. Because you are quite the conversationalist, my friend,” Charles says. “Well?”

Logan folds his own arms and stares at Charles. When it doesn't look like Charles is going to offer his reason—because really, he can be just as stubborn as a mule if he puts his mind to it—Logan sighs.

"Alright, I'll bite.” Logan tosses a pair of arachnomorph fangs in his palms. “What brings you here, Charles?"

Charles rolls his eyes. "I've detected residues of magic in Skellige. Ones that came from a big spike of power. There's a high chance that it could be Laura and her friends… but my report is quite dated. They could be long gone by now, so there’s no rush. I’d like to investigate the site, nonetheless.”

Logan's eyebrows dipped on his head. "I'm surprised you haven't checked it out yourself?"

Charles hears the unspoken, ‘With Erik,’ in his comment, and gives Logan the grace of ignoring such thing. “I was heading in that direction and I was wondering if you'd want to come with me."

“Why?”

“I thought it’d be nice to bring her father along if we do come across her.”

Logan doesn't say anything for a minute. He just scrutinises Charles with his unnerving stare. His cat eyes are infamous—known to discompose even Mages and Sorceresses—but Charles is used to them; he used to the myriad of expressions which crosses those cat eyes—both Logan and Erik’s.

"You could've just gone," Logan mutters. "You know how I hate portals."  

Charles waves his hand. "Nonsense. I'm due for some quality time with my horse, anyway."  

“You could have gone with Erik.”

Charles forces himself not to stiffen. “I didn’t think to ask. We’ve gone our separate ways.”

"Hmm," Logan says. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Darling,” Charles sighs, “when normal people skirt over a subject, it usually indicates and unwillingness to talk about it."

"But we're not normal, yeah?" Logan says. "You look upset."

Charles purses his lips. "You are as tact as ever, my friend."

“I’m one hell of a wordsmith in my own right,” Logan says. “But I don’t give that much of a fuck for Lehnsherr. He lands on his feet more fucking times than I can count. It’s you I’m worried about. Not to mention, the last time you and Erik tried to do anything with a Djinn, half of Rinde almost felt its wrath.”

Charles looks away. On instinct, he rubs his face (‘It’s better than crying.’) and exhaustion settles in, as it usually does whenever he thinks about the situation with Erik.

Logan’s face softens. There’s only silence between them as Logan rummages through his satchel.

“Here.”

Charles looks down. In Logan’s hand is a vial of monster saliva. He touches the vial almost gingerly.

He must think Charles to be so pathetic. Things didn't work out with Erik, so he runs to Logan crying about it. Isn’t that what he’s doing anyway? But then, Logan is much kinder than to call him out on it. Much kinder than what Charles deserves, probably.  

"Things with the Djinn didn't stick?" Logan asks gently.

"No." Charles sighs. "It did. That's the problem."

Erik wasn't supposed to be his, Charles knows. Erik was his by a lethal combination of pure stubbornness and a disastrous accident. He was Magda's first, and Charles fooled with a Djinn when he wasn't ready and they ended up bonded. The next few decades were spent bouncing between passion, love, and resentment—the kind that’s thick enough to choke on.  

Charles was ready for the latter. He took away Erik's choice in his love for Charles It was his fault for releasing the Djinn and putting them in a position where Erik’s life was compromised. When he used his last wish to save their lives, he invoked the Djinn’s mischief, and the Djinn tied their destinies together.

They spent all those years fighting, and Charles spent all those years hating himself for ruining one of the only good thing he's found in decades… Charles wondered why he spent so long waiting to find another Djinn to break their bond. Maybe he could have spared himself the current heartbreak.

Because to find out that their feelings were their own. To find out the Djinn had nothing to do with their hearts—and certainly nothing to do with their proximity from all the times either of them have stormed halfway across the world in their anger...

That… Charles was not ready for.

All the pain, the resentment, the hurt.

All for nothing.  

They ended things there, so they could start fresh. It was more so Charles's decisions than Erik's, but Erik has other business to sort out himself. Magda is a fellow sorceress. It could be as if no time had passed at al.

It was—is—better this way.

"I'll tell you about it one day," Charles says, tucking his vial into his rucksack. "Are you done here?"

Logan stares him again. This time, Charles blinks back at him, tilting his head in question. Logan brushes some blood off his shoulder plates as he stands up. He offers a hand and pulls Charles up with him.

Charles chants a quick cleaning spell on Logan’s gloves. He’ll thank Charles for this, he’s sure of it.

"Still got one or two nests to go," Logan says. "Want to come with?"  

“Why is it whenever I visit you, we always end up in some dark, smelly cave?”

“Should’ve kept better company then.”

That pulls a laugh out of Charles. “At least it was treasure last time,” Charles says. "But why not? Two heads are better than one, I suppose."

Charles gathers a ball of light in his hands. He holds it out, and the ball floats near his head, illuminating a soft blue on their surroundings.

“Speaking of...” Logan says. "Aren’t you going to..."

Charles tips his head in question.

Logan taps the side of his forehead.

Surprised, the ball of light beside his head blinks out momentarily. He could count the handful of times Erik has invited him into his head. Logan has long surpassed both fingers of his hands. It’s how Charles got the inkling that too had a past with a fellow mind reader. He’s simply too comfortable having someone in his head.

He forgot how nice it could be when someone else takes the initiative.

Logan’s head feels like it always does. A glass of whisky warming his systems in a lowly lit pub. He’s thinking about Laura, mostly. Worrying about her. Wondering what forms of trouble has she and her friends been up to.

“Comfortable?” Logan asks.

If you don't mind, Charles says. Remember that it goes both ways. I’ve fine tuned the spell as such. And if you need space...

“I'll tell you, bub,” Logan says. “Just don't go looking into places you're not supposed to be. Unless you want to see a bunch of alghouls fucking around the place.”

As far as he knows, alghouls do not mate or reproduce with each other, but he doesn’t doubt the imaginative powers of Logan’s mind.

Charles shudders. You have an odd and macabre sense of humour, my friend. Shall we get going?

[signor-signor]

Trending 27th - January 2020

What have been your efforts in the campaign for SaveWOY and what are your upcoming plans to save WOY? Now this is a question worth answering!

In the past, I made a little list of the things I did to support SaveWOY and bring awareness to Wander Over Yonder’s existence and its third season plans. Since then, I’ve done a whole lot more from hand-drawn art to more intricate art. Some of them are almost as special as that signed poster @peepsqueak got from the WOY crew as a token of their gratitude.

Here’s an updated list of everything I did for SaveWOY so far:

Attended the SaveWOY picnic at Griffith Park, where I got to sign a banner.

Pointed out various higher-ups involved in the business of Disney television.

Sent several letters to the higher-ups, some of which had envelopes with an image of the downed space pod taped to them.

Started a weekly Twitter post series, SaveWOY Thought of the Week.

Made Lite-Brite art of Wander and Lord Hater, which Craig McCracken and Francisco Angones liked.

Attended D23 2017 with an Operation: FORCE drawing of Hater, a colored page of Wander and Sylvia and a few facts about WOY, and an orange pen with a green hat (I got the hat from the aforementioned picnic) - there, I signed a bench with Wander and the phrase, “Never hurts to help.”

Signed my name, drew Wander (and my own character, Jacken DeBox), and wrote, “Happiest place in outer space!” on the highest beam for Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge.

Wrote a letter (and drew Wander) for the victims of the Las Vegas tragedy with the message, “The darkest times call for the sunniest smiles!”

Got Craig to reveal the name of the ship (said to play a BIG part in S3, made a cameo in Future-Worm) when I commented that we’d have to figure out the name - his response: “The ship is called The Star Nomad.”

Wrote a couple of cards to two Disney higher-ups with the message, “A little nice makes naughty think twice!”

Drew Dominator in a situation that might take place several seconds after she passes the downed space pod, just in time for Noël Wells’s B-day.

Made the Star Nomad with LEGO Digital Designer.

Made three images in the style of the original Star Wars trilogy VHS set.

Posted 50 WOYS3PredictionPolls on Twitter.

Made an image of “The First 5 Years” with over 140 individuals (including the question marks for 3 new mains and 2 new regulars - I still want to know what they look like!) and one cleverly made Hidden Mickey.

Shared WOY-related images from my 1st 5 Years fan art on Twitter acknowledging the B-days of most of the voice actors (Charlie Adler, Kevin Michael Richardson, Ken Marino, Josh Sussman, H. Michael Croner, James Adomian, Jason Ritter, and Piotr Michael clearly noticed).

Typed a summary of how I think the S3 premiere would go.

Typed lyrics to “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’,” a song from my aforementioned S3 premiere summary. Wouldn’t it be great if Andy Bean used it?

Made a microgame with WarioWare: D.I.Y. where the player has to spin the fan to make the Star Nomad fly. Part of a chorus from “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’” included.

Started FanCharacterFriday on Twitter - more Tumblr users seem to like Dr. Otmar Vunderbar.

Made a short comic page of Lord Hater trying to break out of the DTVA vault plus a sly reminder that Disney owns the rights to WOY.

Shared a list of potential episode titles for S3.

Made an actual LEGO Star Nomad based on the model made with LDD. Hopefully, those who worked on WOY have noticed. In case you missed it, here’s a picture...

Now, the ideas I have in mind for further boosting support for the campaign. I may not be able to do most of them myself, but they are certainly for everyone’s consideration.

Provide updated information of higher-ups (if any).

As soon as we find out what Kid Cosmic looks like, expect fan art of him saying, “Watch my show and tell your friends so we’ll make that Mousey Company pay for what they did to my half-brother!”

Another SaveWOY picnic - if there’s one in my general area, you can count me in.

LP album artwork of My Fair Hatey.

A mural identical to that of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate consisting of not just characters from WOY, but also characters who were said to debut in S3 and characters who’d fit in perfectly, namely some of my OCs.

Pumpkin stencils of the main characters for Halloween.

Drawings of various WOY characters stuck on the ex-secret planet explaining why they need to leave said planet. Maybe I could also show how the galaxy’s villains would react if they learn that Lord Dominator’s been bested by Lord Hater.

Drawings consisting of SaveWOY-related messages spoken by the main characters from Disney shows that got at least three seasons (e.g. DuckTales, Fish Hooks), tons of love from the viewers and the executives (e.g. Gravity Falls), or both (e.g. SvtFoE, Mickey Mouse ‘13).

Example with Phineas and Ferb:

Phineas: “We may be creative and famous, but we’re not the ones who came up with the Star Nomad. It’s the ship powered by orbbles! Orbbles! I’d LOVE to see it take flight, wouldn’t you? If you let Mr. McCracken end the show his way, and not the executive way, which, truth be told, is the absolute worst, Wander will surely be elated!”

Ferb: “The Orbble Transporter was invented by conjoined twin brothers, voiced by the performers of the theme song.”

Irving (peeking in from the side): “Speaking of voices, the titular main character sounds JUST LIKE ME! How could you possibly resist?! And look, just because I’m the biggest fan of these guys (gesturing to P&F) doesn’t mean I have no interest in what’s planned for the furry orange fella!”

Since I’m a full-time Disneyland cast member, I should be able to make contacts with anyone who might have more clues about what S3 would entail. It might be a long shot, but if I’m able to convince Disney that WOY’s influence on my life boosted my chance at gaining employment at the company, they should understand.

A weekly Jeopardy-type pop quiz on Twitter - here’s the catch: you must refrain from finding information online when you read the answer (I bet you that the most hardcore fans of the most popular shows will get most of the questions wrong).

Example: This arachnomorph got his name from a dog tag he swallowed when he infiltrated a fish-shaped ship. He later became Lord Hater’s beloved pet.

-Who is Captain Tim?

Summaries of S3 episodes I made up myself a while back.

More fan-made characters - my most recent is an elected official of Cluckon, Mayor Spye C. Drumstick.

Conjuring a logo that best fits the status of S3/TV movie - Wander Over Yonder: The New Galaxy (the center would have the silhouette of the Star Nomad with Wander and Sylvia on it).

Brainstorming possible ideas for the three new main characters.

If all else fails, I suggest we make a web comic based on the hints we accumulated back in 2016 and what we learned from the cameo in Future-Worm’s finale. Team Sea3on has been taking that approach for SatAM Sonic the Hedgehog S3, though they are also making an animated version.

That’s about all I’ve got so far. In closing, I have several questions to ask as the new decade kicks off.

Disney executives: Are you even listening to us WOY fans? What more do you want? I’ve done so much for the campaign that I feel I’m entitled to know everything that was planned for WOY’s third and final season, especially now that I’m working full-time for your company. If you tell us what your demands are, we’d be happy to oblige.

@crackmccraigen: Are you aware of how hard the fans and I have been trying to talk Disney into giving you the chance for true closure? We’ll make sure we watch KC when it comes out on Netflix. If we’re lucky, we might see WOY get added to Disney+, where it should get that closure, assuming you’ll have finished KC your way before then.

@suspendersofdisbelief: I know you’re super busy with DuckTales and you love the plans for WOY S3 so much that you can’t bear to reveal it all in one post, but it’s been waaaay too long since we got any hints from you. Are there any other WOY S3-related facts you could describe in much greater detail? The campaign could do with more motivation.

Non-WOY fans: Are you convinced? Need I remind you what’s in the end tag of the “last” episode of WOY? You know there’s much more to life than tales from the land of Ooo, a blue middle school cat boy in a world of unusual individuals, adolescent twins in an Oregon town filled with oddities, a half-gem half-human protagonist, a coming-of-age princess of Mewni, a trio of ursine trend-followers in San Francisco, and all that jazz. If you’re not one bit interested in Hater’s origin story and all that was planned for S3, it’s your loss.

Pessimists: Will you please dispense with this unnerving “Wander is dead” talk? As a certain Popeye would say, “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” You’re not trying to let the Disney bosses win, are you? You probably used to think previously canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and Young Justice could never be brought back. The point is, all is not lost.

@peepsqueak and WOY fans/SaveWOY supporters: Have I been of assistance? Almost every remark I’ve ever made shows wit and perception. I mean, just think. Wander is still stuck in that vault where his goal of reforming Lord Hater remains incomplete, and he has no idea of what threat awaits him. He says, “Glorn, help us.” It’ll take something big and extraordinary to convince every Disney fan (and perhaps every Netflix fan) to talk some sense into the higher-ups. Not to mention the replacement/back-up voice actors we’ll have to find if Disney takes even longer (we already lost one - René Auberjonois). We shan’t rest until we get the answers!

@disneyanimation

[fanfic-inator795]

okay, this is a weird one, and it's alright if you don't wanna write it, but it's what came to mind: since Walky is one of the very few beings Captain Tim is afraid of (because his heat sensors show her as way too hot at all times) the Watchdogs try to get her to assist with their Tim-related issues?

This was fun! ^v^ Thanks Tessa!

“I-I still don’t really understand-”

“Look, it’s obvious that Captain Tim’s afraid of you,” Peepers explained as he rubbed his eye a bit, “I have no idea why, but he is.” Sure, sometimes he’d be a bit cautious around Wander, not wanting to be hugged by the wandering weirdo. So maybe it had something to do with the fact that Wander and Walky looked like the same species? However, while Wander was treated as a nuisance by the arachnomorph, the ‘captain’ was completely terrified of Walky! 

As much as he tried to think of some sort of explanation, Peepers just couldn’t figure one out. But, reason or no, Commander Peepers wasn’t one to waste an opportunity. “So, all I need you to do is frighten him to the point where it discourages him from attacking the Watchdogs! It’ll be easy!”

Walky’s frown deepened. “M-Maybe... But, it also seems so-sorta wrong. I know Captain Tim is a bit... r-rough sometimes but-”

“But there’s no buts about it!” Peepers argued, “That little monster’s barely trained, and this is an opportunity we can’t afford to waste!” Not if they still wanted to have soldiers around.

“It’s still kinda m-mean... Besides, what’s Hater going to think of me wh-when he finds out I’ve been tormenting his little T-Tim Tim?”

Peepers sighed. “Okay okay. Don’t think of it as tormenting or terrorizing. Just intimidate him a little! Enough to where he knows not to attack any of the watchdogs because he’ll think that you’ll be nearby!”

Walky gave an unsure hum, and maybe she would have continued the argument, if not for the sudden screams from down the hall. “EVERYBODY RUN!” she heard a soldier shout, “HE’S TRYING TO FETCH!” “NOT AGAIN!” “RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIVES!”

“... *sigh* Alright alright, I’ll t-try to scare him straight...” “Great!” Peepers beamed, giving a quick thanks before pushing her out into the hall and shutting the door behind her. 

“Geez... R-Rude, much?” Though, maybe it was more out of fear than lack of manners, considering how loud the growls and snarls were getting. Within just a couple seconds, the arachnomorph skidded into the hall - and immediately froze. Walky stared back at him. “...Uhh... Boo?” 

Giving a loud wimper, Captain Tim doubled back and ran down another hall, hoping to catch up to his one-eyed prey. And, looking as reluctant as ever, Walky followed him.

()()()()()()()()()()()

“Come on... There has to be something! A-Anything!”

It had been nearly two weeks since Walky began Peepers intimidation plan, and while Tim had mostly stopped chasing the watchdogs, Walky still felt sorta guilty about taking part in training that, while necessary, still seemed sort of cruel. But, above that, she was curious to know what made the little spider-beast so afraid of her in the first place. And, what better way to learn than doing a bit of research.

Unfortunately, with arachnomorphs being so dangerous, it was hard for most to do research on them. Plus, the whole ‘galaxy being destroyed’ thing didn’t exactly help, since a lot of libraries and labs had been destroyed. However there were some sites and papers still available, though most were all about how to avoid the little monsters rather than being about the creatures themselves. 

Of course it was all common sense stuff that could easily be skimmed over. Hiding, being stealthy, covering your he- Wait, what? Walky quickly scrolled back and started reading. “’Technically, a-arachnomorphs are blind. However, they are able to sense ther-thermal energy and can easily track and hunt w-warm blooded creatures. However, if you are able to hide your inner heat, you h-have a chance of escape.’ Hmm... Thermal heat, huh?” Maybe she didn’t have blood, but she certainly had inner heat. She had been created using a star, after all, and if Tim could see her sun-like core-

“Then no w-wonder he’s so afraid...” Turning off the computer, Walky quickly went out to one of the Skullship’s many hallways. It was time for a hunt of her own... And thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult at first. While he might have mostly stopped attacking the watchdogs, there was still the matter of his afternoon walk. 

“AHH! Captain Tim, PLEASE! HEEL! STOP! AHHHHHH!” Of course, despite the pleading from his walker, Tim continued running as fast as he could, growling and screeching all the way. “Come onnnn! Heel, heel, HE-!” Suddenly, the spider-beast did exactly that. He stopped - and it was such a surprise that his walker actually ended up letting go of the leash and flying past him, though that was of no concern to Tim. All he could focus on was the incoming heat signature.

Growling, Tim started to run again, past his walker and other potential prey, all the way across the ship until he arrived at a familiar doorway. Still sensing that he was being followed, Captain Tim pushed the door opened and scurried under his master’s bed.

“Don’t worry, Tim,” a quiet voice told him as the bright heat signature entered the room, “I-I’m not gonna hurt you. Promise.” The words were certainly non-threatening, but Tim still growled at him, not daring to move from his hiding place.

“...” Closing her eyes, Walky started to take deep breaths. She could feel herself cooling down ever so slightly, at least on the surface. Even her fur started to get a bit lighter. Once she felt like she was cool enough, she crouched down and poked her head under the bed. “Come on, T-Tim. I’m a friend, okay? I won’t b-burn you.”

“Grrr...” She was still hot. Hot like fire or plasma, like the weapons people usually shot at him before his found his forever home. ...Though, while her core was still burning, Tim did see just a bit of a difference in the heat that surrounded her body.

Smiling just a little, Walky stuck out her hand. Tim hissed at it. ...And yet, after a moment, he sniffed it. Slowly, Walky lifted her hand, and touched him, only stroking a tiny bit of his fur. The touch was warm... But, it was a nice warm. Like his master’s favorite pink blanket, or his master himself whenever he crawled up into his ribcage for a nap. In fact, this hot star-creature’s core was sorta like his master’s powerful electrical one! VERY dangerous on its own but, easily contained within a creature that seemed... nice.

And, after a few minutes of light petting, Tim finally made another move, making Walky gasp slightly. “T-There we go!” she grinned as the arachnomorph crawled out, “See, I-I told you I was nice!”

“Grrr,” was all Tim replied, though there wasn’t much malice behind it. Walky continued petting him, making sure to keep her outer heat low enough to make her inner core seem less frightening, and soon enough the spider-beast was on her lap, enjoying her pets as well as her warmth. “Hehe, good boy...”

()()()()()()()()()

“...I just can’t believe it. Just-” Peepers sighed, shaking his head. Maybe he should have expected this from a person like Walky. So much for his plan. Smirking a bit, Sylvia simply patted him on the shoulder. 

Hater crossed his arms, pouting. “Well, we should wake them up now. Hmph, the nerve of her, cuddling with MY Tim-Tim...”

“Aw, let ‘em cuddle just a bit longer!” Wander insisted as he snapped another quick picture of the pair of nappers, “Nothin’ wrong with a bit of cuddling.” “But he’s MY pet, not hers!” “But they can still be frieeeeends~” “Ughhhh.”

Captain Tim gave a small growl at the noise, twitching a bit in his sleep and refusing to get up from the warm lap, at least for a few more minutes. Of course, no matter how warm the sun-golem was, he would still care about his skeletal master the most - much more than the golem or any of the one-eyed toys that he’d be sure to ‘play with’ once he woke up. 

But, in terms of having another person to nap with and recieve non-annoying attention from (while at the same time not having a delicious, beating heart to tempt him with like his master’s friend, that one lady with all the blasters, had) perhaps Walky wasn’t too bad...

THE END (hope you liked this! ^v^)