#and i needed something new in my life bc i was closer to suicide than i've ever been lmao

[acesammy]

kinda crazy how when i think on it, I left every single job i’ve ever had at the /perfect/ moment before it all went to shit. but i’m still so sad and nostalgic for them

[sunrisetune]

Hi Goose. Another Dragon Age prompt -- I was trying for angstier, but I'm too sleepy, so here it is as it is: Anders attempts to fulfill a patient's last request, with or without help from Hawke (or anyone else you wish).

(ID: An edited ‘The Office’ meme, of a man looking off into the distance with a determined expression. The caption says, “I’m going to make this way angstier than it needs to be.”)

So I actually have more of this bc I can’t write short-fic to save my fuckening life, But I wanted to give you something before the new year! Therefore: Please accept this slightly reworked excerpt of a thing; hopefully it should stand mostly on its own?? \o/

- 740-ish words - Dashes of Hawke/Anders; Anders was right but he still absolutely did things wrong - And you know when sometimes people write a friendship route Hawke and (or / ) Anders where both of them are completely okay with Kirkwall being destroyed, or where Justice and Anders are chill with the amount of death the war causes because it's a ~needed price to pay~? Fuck those two interpretations specifically.

CW: The end of Act Three - violence, brief gore, mass / crowd death, children in dangerous situations, fire, suicidal ideation.

~

‘Pyre’

The chunk of what was once Chantry wall careened out of the sky and cracked the street in front of him. He flinched, his arcane shield flaring for a moment before the dust cleared. When it did he wished it hadn't, but forced himself to look. Stone, and flesh. A trail of blood seeping from underneath a wrinkled hand stuck out from the wreckage. Anders felt sick. Then he heard the wail, and went to them.

The poor elf woman caught under the wreckage refused to accept his healing, or his frantic instructions not to move. Instead she inched closer to her husband and pressed her cheek to his bleeding skull, murmuring comforts. There was nothing Anders could do for them, he realized-- half his face was gone, and with her chest in that shape, she had only minutes. She looked up at Anders through the mess of her hair. "Please," she said. "The baby." He turned. There, a few feet away-- she must have thrown them-- a bundle of rags the size of a young elf child. The bundle was breathing.  Anders looked back at the poor mother and nodded. Her eyes filled with tears of relief and pain. “Thank you.” He had no elfroot or lotus to ease their passing but she put her face to her husband’s and closed her eyes, and he cut her throat as fast and smoothly as he could.

Anders’ hands were shaking and still covered in gore, but he picked the child up, carefully. He checked their breathing, turning their face to his chest to give them some small measure of protection. At least there wasn’t any darkspawn blood on him. They’d make it to the alienage, Andraste willing.

He wove through the broken streets with his arcane shield shimmering dimly around him, his aura stretching as far as his concentration could spare, healing those around him for the few seconds they were close enough. It wasn't much but he could hope it might give someone another few minutes. Mechanically, he stepped around the corpses. All but ignored the screams coming from the burning stacks of hovels euphemistically called 'apartments' throughout Lowtown. The buildings were too cramped, too close together, and the fire spread like a ravenous beast. The most he could do was pray that they'd die quickly of the smoke.

It felt almost like he did on his worst weeks: everything so loud, the air itself ringing cruelly, nothing getting through to him. But something was keeping him just above that, like treading water in a freezing lake. Justice, trying to protect him. They were one now but nonetheless Anders hadn't felt the spirit so present in a long time; not furious, burying him in his own mind, but simply there. Sustaining. They probably wouldn't have been able to continue at all if it wasn't for Justice. Back in front of the ruined Chantry, after Hawke had thrown her dagger to the stones, Anders certainly wouldn't have been able to stand. (She shouldn’t have let them go. They should be dead. They should have paid--) They were hollow but for a viciously twisting rage; a great, helpless guilt. Rage at the templars, at himself. Them both. How dare his heart ache. How dare their eyes burn with more than the ashes?  How could they grieve when they were responsible for the suffering of these people? He'd lit the fire. Their home was burning. What could he possibly do for them now?

Something. They must do something.

It’s a monstrous thing, feeling such sorrow and certainty they'd do it again.

Amid all the chaos, his siblings face down their oppressors. More and more of them twist grotesquely into abominations as the fight continues-- Anders wants to scream at them in betrayal. Still others fall on their knees and beg before the steel struck through their throats. What kind of a way was that for mages to die? They were meant to fight! His fingers tighten on their staff until they're nearly claws of his own. It-- didn't matter. The world would know, no matter how many were dead. And he'd help them, he'd join the battle with or without Hawke, and do what he came here to. ('Without Hawke'. Anders couldn’t linger on that thought.) Maybe they could still save some of them, or maybe he could slaughter enough templars that some of this rage would ease.

Just not yet. The child in his arm breathed, fragile, still unconscious. If he could be a healer still-- even once more-- he had a promise to keep.

~

[porcupine-girl]

I can relate to this in two different ways, one of which is closer to what you’re going through emotionally I think but the other of which is probably more useful.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in college. I won’t go into all the details of the in-between, but suffice it to say that just like every god damned person with bipolar disorder does at least once in their life, I was euthymic (normal, basically) for a bit, let my meds lapse, then when I stayed euthymic was like oh it’s fine I’ll get back on the meds if I need them. And then did not.

And for the last couple years of that phase I very much just needed someone to give me permission to need the meds again. To the point that I considered suicide attempts because then someone would see that something was wrong and tell me to get medical help. Because as long as I could hide it, it couldn’t be bad enough to warrant medical treatment. (I know, I know, but depression lies.) Unfortunately this doesn’t have an ending that is helpful to you because what finally happened was that when I was 5-6 months pregnant (a pregnancy that probably saved my life bc I couldn’t figure out how to attempt suicide without hurting the baby) I broke down in my OBGYN’s office and she got me to a psychiatrist and told me yes yes I give my blessings for you to get back on that med while pregnant, please just do it. And you’ve already had a doctor tell you that. But just so you know - I understand how you feel.

What might be useful though is the other times I’ve felt like I needed permission for things, and those are entirely bc of my ADHD. One trick executive dysfunction likes to play is to set up artificial barriers, often fueled by guilt and shame, that you tell yourself will make you more productive but in fact just grind everything to a halt. “I’m not allowed to do X until I’ve done Y.” “I’m not allowed to work on X right now because Y is more important,” “I can’t possibly start on project X until I am Fully Prepared for it which means doing all of Y preparations.”

Obviously sometimes these types of rules are necessary, but some people with adhd have a tendency to set them up when they’re neither necessary nor useful. So for example, for a long time my brain said “you’re not allowed to work on fanfic unless you’ve worked on your dissertation today.” And guess what happened most days? I did neither! All my brain could think about was fic, but I wasn’t allowed to do that, but it wouldn’t switch gears to dissertation.

Finally - and the only reason I ever got my dissertation done - I had to give myself permission to work on whatever my brain wanted to work on that day. And suddenly a dam broke and I was able to get fanfic out of my head to make room for the dissertation and I got both done!

Right now, it sounds like you’re setting up this kind of all-or-nothing approach. “I’m not allowed to Be Disabled unless I have all the disabled merch and am doing everything just right and have fully embraced this identity and dealt with all the implications.” So my advice would be that you don’t need to give yourself permission to do it all at once. Let yourself build this new identity one piece at a time. Work out a schedule to take the meds, but don’t start it yet. Let it sit for a couple days and see if it still makes sense when you look at it again. Buy one item off Etsy and see how you like it.

I’m guessing it will be a lot easier to allow yourself to do one thing, “just to try it out, see how it goes, see if I like it” than to do it ALL. Then each little step will help you get more comfortable with the next one.

If this does not sound like your problem please ignore me! Good luck either way ❤️

Waiting for Permission to Be Sick - Input Requested!

So, I got officially diagnosed with two chronic conditions last week. And the doctor explained to me the details of how these conditions affect my body, and what kinds of symptoms to look out for, and what I can expect life to look like going forward. And I got prescribed meds, and given detailed instructions for when to take them and any side effects I might experience and what to do to help myself feel better if I'm not feeling well, and all of that.

And I just. Haven't done it. I've started taking some of the meds, but not all of them, and like. There's no real reason for me not to? I'm just. Not doing it. Like I've looked up some products on Etsy to have like. Emergency medical info with me so that if I randomly black out or faint again in public, someone could see me and have info know what to do. And I've been looking at pins that say "I have an invisible disability" and aaaaaaaall sorts of stuff. Basically just window shopping for my chronic illness starter kit. But it's been over a week now and I haven't bought anything, and I seem to have convinced myself that I can't start taking my meds until I have all of my Items sorted out and prepared. And like -- there are some actual reasons for this, such as my schedule has been all over the place and my meds need to be taken at multiple times a day at certain intervals, and some with food and some without food, so I need to be able to have that stuff ready to go even when I'm out and about.

But I'm not. Actually doing the work to get everything sorted out and ready? I'm just window shopping. And today, I have been very tired all day because of the rain and because I did too much yesterday, and my head has been hurting because I'm still not over my concussion and I also probably did too much today, even though honestly all I did was go to one class and observe the whole time, and read a couple of emails. And I thought to myself, "well I guess I should take tylenol for my head, and I guess I can give myself permission to do that since my boyfriend is busy and can't tell me to take care of myself --- oh."

I have been waiting for someone to give me permission to identify as chronically ill! Even today I was like "I feel like I've managed to convince myself that I feel worse than I actually do, and I'm actually fine." Even though there would be no real reason for me to be doing that. And like. My head actually hurts! I really did and still do feel tired! And I've seen my test results, and I know that I have a chronic condition. It's been medically confirmed by a bunch of different tests, and multiple medical professionals have been like "yep you've got something wrong with you" (though using more professional and kind words, of course). All of this to say -- I have been waiting for someone to tell me that I am ill and it is chronic and that it is okay to spend money on taking care of myself and things that will make me feel better, even if it is only temporary like the excitement of buying a new pouch that says "This Bag Is Full of Drugs" specifically to keep my medical supplies in, or something to help keep me safe going forward like a medical alert key chain. The only question now is -- what do I do about this? How do I give myself permission to need help or extra accommodations or even just some medication when I never want to admit that I need or want help? I'm so used to being self-sufficient and doing everything by myself that I don't know how to be okay with more problems.

Has anyone else experienced something like this? What do you do? How do you learn to be okay with the fact that your body is not going to go back to the way it was before? I am only 22 and it's hard to accept that my life is not going to look the way I pictured it when I was 18.

[redrobin-detective]

Ben 10 lore that exists in my heart regardless of canon

- Ben’s personality in his mid-late teens is a mix of his Alien Force and Omniverse self. On the surface, he’s very cheerful and kind even if he is a bit of arrogant showoff. He makes jokes and plays around and acts as if he isn’t bothered by the things in his life. Those who know him best understand a good portion of his outward confidence and cockiness is just a facade to cover up his insecurities and to project the ideal, effortless hero. While sometimes seen as immature, most beings know Ben 10 means business as he takes his unofficial job and people’s safety very seriously. He’s clever, adaptable, charismatic and empathetic which makes him a formidable opponent and a loyal friend. Doesn’t open up easily but if you get to him, he become so dearly attached. 

- Drinks smoothies so much for several reasons. Comfort food go brrr, reminds him of the good easy times with him Gwen and Kev. It’s also a light but generally nutritous food to give him energy for heroing. Anything too heavy and he’ll be puking (both from physical and emotional stress). Though he jokes about his mom’s health foods, his are a crazy concoction of add in proteins and vitamins/minerals bc he knows he’ll out and out collapse without it. (Still has on occasion bc boy still doesn’t eat right/enough)

- While Fame is exciting for him at first he soon begins to detest it. Not the fans, no, he can’t bring himself to hate the people who look up to him. But he hates the constant attention, that he can’t walk outside without being mobbed. the only place he feels safe is his hometown where most people are so used to him and his weirdness that they don’t react much anymore. Takes to wearing a cape and face shield when going out anywhere so he can actually get things done without being recognized and mobbed.

- Part of the reason Bellwood isn’t concerned with Ben is partially because ben’s been weird and alien for as long as they can remember but also many don’t realize how famous/powerful he is. Yeah that’s just Ben Tennyson over there, sometimes he turns into funny creatures- wait what do you MEAN he’s the savior of the universe?? He cried over a spilled smoothie the other day.

- Does mostly online schooling by the time he’s 15. At first he tries to do half day things to maintain something of a normal life but it quickly becomes overwhelming and dangerous him/the school. Finishes his GED early but the Plumbers and Azmuth make him take additional college level and alien courses to prepare him for his future role. Ben gripes but really does love learning all these things, especially on his terms (ADHD and stress + the public school system do not always go hand in hand). He’s a quick learner when he deems the information important and is made accessible to his learning needs.

- Ben definitely has ADHD speaking of which, it was nearly uncontrollable as a child bc his free-spirited parents didn’t believe in medicating. Ben convinced them he needed it and after some trial and error, found meds that worked. As he became more involved in heroics/growing up he had to change his medicine regimen (resulting in him being a bit more off the rails in OV) and needed antidepressants and therapy to manage it better. As an adult he has a whole litany of coping mechanisms (good and bad yes) and regularly checks in with his therapist and doctors to keep things under control. 

- Has a complicated relationship with his necrofriggian children. Considers himself their mother and worries after them. They too feel a connection to their parent despite this being unusual for their species. A few visit (some more than others) while they grow while others maintain distance. Ben never breathes a word of them to the media for fear of them being targeted. Still he keeps an eye on them and ensures all 14 mature to adulthood (another rarity for the species). Checks in every now and again with the ones who don’t want to see him and those that do. Two join the Plumbers and Ben is both proud and worried. His youngest becomes partners with Rook Ben.

- Just in general loves kids, they’re his favorite fans and while he’ll grumble at pushy adult fans he always smiles and kneels down for the little ones. Not so secretly wanted to have children of his own but knew it was a risk overall and used a lot of that energy with mentoring and teaching. Eventually had Kenny later in life (late 30s-40s) and was over the moon, becoming such a loving and doing parent or as much as he could be with his hectic schedule. 

- Omnitrix can’t come off, never has at any point since it first latched onto Ben’s arm. Azmuth tried and failed to get the device off, doesn’t let Ben know for many years as he feared the consequences. The watch loves and protects Ben even beyond it’s programming making him much more durable to damage and releasing energy charges when he’s threatened. Not even removing Ben’s arm would separate them. They’re stuck for life.

- Ben does have Anodite heritage but the Omnitrix actively suppresses it and uses the built up energy to power the transformations which is why ben is mostly unaffected by what should cause a massive energy drain on him. Theoretically if Ben learned to harness and safely use his Mana at an early age like Gwen he would have been fine but letting it build up without safe outlet meant activation would have killed him. Omnitrix Ben, however, went his whole life not knowing of his latent abilities and how the watch saved his life.

- Ben’s eyes get more green and glowy as time passes from the Omnitrix. At first they think its a trick of the light but by the time he’s an adult his eyes are pretty much glow in the dark. His veins light up too after long stretches of using the Omnitrix. Its vaguely unsettling to people who aren’t used to Ben.

- Max and the Earth Plumbers work so, so hard to keep teen Ben on Earth when half the universe is blowing up their comm lines asking for The Ben 10 to help with whatever problem of the day. Ben himself doesn’t quite understand when he’s younger the prestige and expectations on his shoulders. Max throws up a million and one roadblocks so Ben can live as normal a life as possible while he still can. Still, while doing that he Still overloads Ben with expectations and responsibilities on earth and beyond. He becomes a soldier again with Ben as their greatest weapon. He never forgave himself of losing sight of his grandson underneath the hero esp after Ben’s breakdown. 

- Rook partnership with Ben ends not long after Omniverse with his promotion to Magister. Ben tries to play it cool but the thought of another loved one/teammate leaving his tears him apart. Max revealing that Ben most likely wouldn’t get a new Plumber assigned partner since he’s almost an adult and won’t need it and Rook accidentally missing their last smoothie run due to a scheduling mishap causes Ben to snap and have the nervous breakdown that had been building for almost a decade. He completely loses it for a little while and needs to take an extended leave of absence from school and heroics that lasts about a year. Spends time recovering both on Earth and Galvan Prime, does some diplomatic training, learns about aliens, actually confronts the stress and loneliness of his life. He comes out the other side stronger but still fragile and exhausted.

- Ben’s above mentioned breakdown brings him closer to all his friends who didn’t quite realize the extent of Ben’s burden. Rook had been under the impression Ben didn’t like him all that much so the knowledge that his departure was the final straw for friend/hero’s collapse was shocking. Ben and Azmuth also become closer, the Galvan becoming fiercely protective of the boy seeing as his Earth family didn’t do well to keep him safe. It takes years for him to get over his anger at Max for putting so much on his grandchild. Ben makes more friends, in and out of the hero business, finally gets a therapist and gets some of his burdens eased a bit. It’s not a sure fire fix and Ben has several smaller breakdowns the rest of his life but its something.

- Azmuth was straight up suicidal before he met Ben for the first time. Ben gave him back hope for the universe and his ability to create items for peace not weapons. The boy infuriates him, frightens him, frustrates him but Azmuth cannot deny in his heart of hearts that he loves Ben dearly. He’s very upset at Ben’s breakdown and doesn’t know how to handle the worst of the initail outbursts. Azmuth talks Ben down from a suicide attempt. He reaches out to Ben that he Too felt overwhelmed by pressure, thought himself only good for war. Ben’s arrival in his life saved him and now he will do the same for Ben. It’s the first positive step forward in Ben’s recovery.

- For no other reason than I like it, Azmuth primarily refers to Ben as Benjamin (mostly to annoy the kid but he likes the way it sounds too) and Ben in softer, more serious moments. 

- Professor Paradox continues to flit in and out of Ben’s life. He says its because Ben is the most equipped to handle universal peril (true) but he’s also just very fond of the boy. Ben, existing in so many forms and having such importance also exists a beat outside of normal reality which Paradox identifies with. Ben is naturally attuned to time related problems because of this (instantly IDing Spanner as from the future before being told later deducing him to be his unborn son). Plus Ben named him, way back when. He’s just drawn to Ben.

- Adult Ben, while being seen as an impressively skilled fighter and champion, really has his strength as a universal diplomat of sorts. Based out of Earth, he helps mediate and defuse conflicts, advocate against tyranny and overall preserve peace and balance. He’s not perfect, he makes mistakes and sometimes is forced to become violent (and yes kill) but overall is regarded as a peacekeeper, something younger ben simply couldn’t understand. 

- Gwen gets her degree and primarily does work with advocacy and teaching about magic/alien culture. While she and Ben are still close, there’s a bit of a frustrated divide in that she isn’t helping him share the burden of the universe. Gwen never wanted to be a hero and has enough worth to not shackle herself to a job that’ll burn her out. Ben loves heroing but gives too much of himself away trying to fix everything. They get into screaming arguments that it wouldn’t be so bad out there if she just helped him but she refuses to budge and says he shouldn’t make himself do so much. They always make up and thy still are each other’s closest relationships.

- Ben marries Kai in a political move, Kai is Asexual and Ben Aromantic. They didn’t love each other but they got on well enough and Ben was really feeling the stress of carrying the hero burden so Kai also being involved made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Both were also so tired of the universe constantly asking about their love life and said ‘fuck it we’re married leave us alone’. Gwen was always mad about it feeling Ben deserved better but the two of them were happy with it. They had separate rooms, mostly separate lives but they became strong friends and supports with their strictly platonic marriage. They had Ken via Invitro in an incubator and were loving if extremely busy parents. 

- Also from the moment he appeared, Ben knew that Spanner was his future son, Kenny. He played ignorant and then was kind of deliberately teasing him in future encounters. He knew the rules of time and didn’t want to disrupt things further even if he was angry and worried as heck about why Ken felt the need to time travel. When future Ben catches up in the timeline, Kenny gets SUCH a lecture. 

- Ben isn’t quite immortal but he’s also not entirely human anymore either. The Omnitrix not only keeps him safe from most harm but it lightens the effect of aging. Ben 10 is active many, many years when most humans would have been forced to retire. He’s not sure how long the watch will keep him alive and it terrifies him. Gwen too is functionally immortal however she ages like a normal human, then when her natural death came, shed her skin and became a fulltime Anodite. So in the end, it was her and Ben together wondering which of them will die first. Gwen has trouble retaining her humanity as pure energy and swears she’ll let herself fizzle out when Ben goes. When that’ll be however...

[altruistic-meme]

AFTG fic recs

Hi all! I just wanted to share some of my all-time favorite fanfics for aftg, for no real reason other than I want more people to read them and send their love to the authors :) 

Under a readmore because it got. A little long. But please enjoy!

WIPs

Dangerous Habits by LovelyLittleGrim ( @lovelylittlegrim )

Andrew has run into problems while on undercover jobs before. None of those problems were anything like the troublesome runaway that is one Nathaniel Wesninski

Aka: the fic where Andrew is undercover as a hitman for hire and Neil is the guy who hires him. Things get complicated from there.

Undercover Andrew? BAMF Neil? Hitman AU?? Absolutely. I’m in love. The story is just *chef kisses*

Chapters: 8/9

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, past rape/non-con, Drake Spear (who is his own warning), Butcher Neil, 

--

Negotiations by elesary ( @elesary )

This is what Andrew Minyard knows: his brother is dead, killed by a petty Raven prince who has never learned to keep his hands off of Andrew's things. His brother's daughters are his responsibility, a job that is made infinitely harder when their shitty grandparents want custody. Nathaniel Wesninski is a liar, but he might be the only way to avenge Aaron and protect his nieces. All Andrew has to do is watch Nathaniels - Neil's- back as he carves out his own life and identity from everyone who thinks they own him.

Andrew has always been good at upholding his end of the bargain, has he finally found someone willing to uphold theirs?

This fic has got me fucked up, honestly. I’m emotional over it. It’s fantastic.

Chapters: 11/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, attempted sexual assault, Butcher Neil,

--

the upper hand by plantelty ( @plantelty  )

Shortly after losing his mother, Neil arrives in the small town of Palmetto, South Carolina, alone in the world and with an impossible plan to carry through.

At the age of eighteen, Andrew ends up helping a boy stage his own death.

-

Just two fucked up boys learning to trust each other during the course of a summer, but also: multiple references to songs, twinyard angst (Nicky tries his best), The Plotting of Neil Josten's Gruesome Demise, and shit hitting the fan in a variety of ugly ways!

The cliffhanger has got me on the edge of my seat, but it is 100% worth the read and the wait for the last chapter!! 

Chapters: 10/11

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Canon typical violence, 

--

The Butcher’s House by Fire_Bear ( @fire-bear )

Andrew thought something was odd with the house the Foxes had to move into after their Athletes' House had been burnt down. He just wasn't prepared for what was actually wrong with it.

For this was a house full of monsters.

Ghost story! Ghost story! Ghost story! I literally think about this fic every other day, it’s fantastic. 

Chapters: 6/?

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: character death (major or minor is unclear), injuries, 

--

Promise of an Unbroken Boy by elesary ( @elesary​ )

Neil is caught by the police with Mary's burning body and is sent to juvie in Oakland where he is assigned to share a cell with one Andrew Doe, who promises him Exy, if only Neil will tell him all of his secrets. With no access to tinted contacts and hair dye, he agrees, it's only a matter of time until he's killed after all. What does he have to lose?

But Andrew's found someone who knows what a promise means, and he'll be damned if he lets that go without a fight.

Ngl this is definitely in my very top favorites -- I LOVE the idea of Neil and Andrew meeting pre-series, and this fic just BLEW my expectations for that plotline out of the waters

Chapters: 14/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Underage, attempted rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, 

~~~~~~~~~

Complete

The Nameless Monster by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Nathaniel Wesninski wants nothing more than to see his father dead and buried. But when his father promises him the title of The Butcher, Nathaniel quickly realizes that his destiny of following in his father's footsteps is closer than ever before.

So of course, when he gets forced to go undercover for the Baltimore police, he starts seeing what living could truly be.

-

Andrew Minyard is a newly recruited police officer for the worst precinct in Baltimore, who is dedicated on hunting down the notorious Butcher and his unnamed underling. But when Neil Josten is thrown into his midst as his civilian consultant; he starts to realize some things don't quite appear as they seem.

I love the story telling -- the secret identities, the plotting, everything.

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Butcher Neil, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced slef-harm (I believe there is a scene that is somewhat detailed on this subject), some characters also get drugged at one point, 

-- 

that’s just something people say by nanatsuyu ( @theoctopusnods )

Neil makes the mistake of stealing the wrong car. Andrew makes the mistake of offering a ride to a liar. They both make the mistake of turning the whole affair into a road trip ‘home.’

Gonna be honest; the summary does not give a big idea as to what is in store and i am SO GLAD I gave this one a try so i’m telling you that you will be too

Chapters: 24/24

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks (somewhat grahic descriptions of)

--

The Story After You by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Andrew Minyard does not understand how Riko Moriyama landed Neil Wesninski.

How the snot-nosed, small dick, rich brat, second son of the Moriyama family who also just so happened to own the largest EXY gear and merchandiser company in the world “RAVEN” - had landed smart mouthed, quick witted, stupidly blue eyed Wesninski, was beyond him. Well, unless Wesninski was a gold digger, but Andrew doubted it.

-

Or; how Andrew Minyard says he doesn't get into messy situations, until he meets Neil and suddenly he is in the most messiest possible situation ever imagined in his life - oh and also, he might be becoming a homewrecker.

Ok I am behind bc I haven’t read the final chapter of this but!! I love the story, it’s very emotional and moving, and I love the characterization in it.

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Abusive Riko/Neil, abusive relationship, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/reference child abuse, implied/referenced self-harm, graphic depictions of violence, some descriptions of injuries/scarring, 

-- 

This Complicated Life by 5a5b5p5 ( @andrewsbutterflyknife )

“This is exactly why I don’t want you and Andrew to meet,” Aaron says grumpily. “You two would get along far too well.”

Neil grins. “I just like pissing you off,” he says, “It’s not my fault your brother does such a good job at it.”

—

Neil doesn’t expect much from his Sophomore year of college, but when he becomes a waiter at the Palmetto Bistro, his life gets a whole lot more interesting. As it turns out, maintaining friendships new and old as well as navigating an interesting relationship with the head chef of the restaurant—who just so happens to be his best friend’s twin brother—is a lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be.

A much more light-hearted fic than most of the others! Includes a secret relationship, and also chef Andrew >>

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

When I Fade, Keep Me in Your Memory by demesh 

Neil Josten has a secret: he can flicker out of existence.

He can vanish with the turn of a thought; click his fingers, and suddenly he’s not there anymore. Invisible and untouchable, he becomes a living ghost.

Having promised his mother never to let his ability go, Neil teeters the line between faded and real, a person and an echo. He can’t risk getting hurt.

But then, one day, someone sees him when they shouldn’t be able to.

 A (flower-shop) AU about how a faded and lonely Neil finds it in him to become someone real.

Another fic that I need to catch up on ;; but anyway it’s amazing and I love Neil’s ability in it, it’s so well explained and well-written about

Chapters: 12/12

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks

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12 Ways to Woo a Minyard by NikNak22 ( @knickknacksandallthat )

Neil is a math nerd who, by a stroke of dumb luck, falls into a group of friends that are the closest thing to family he’s ever had. So, when he tells them about his new mysterious crush, he shouldn’t be surprised how immediately they come up with a plan to help win them over. One they insist that if Neil follows it, he’ll have them falling for him in no time. But things don’t always go to plan – or do they?

Nicky wants to set him up with someone else. Matt and Jeremy are confused but supportive. Allison and Seth offer lewd suggestions, while Dan does her best to keep everyone in line. Jean and Renee know something, Aaron doesn’t really care, and Kevin just wants Neil to join the lacrosse team.

But one thing’s for certain – whether Neil’s successful or not, everyone’s got money riding on this.

The romance-trope-filled fanfic of my dreams. Sometimes you just need a fic of pure joy -- this is that fic. 

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

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finders keepers by moonix ( @annawrites ​ )

Andrew meets Nathaniel through a scavenger hunt app. As their team takes part in a hunt that sends each of them to creepy, abandoned places alone to solve clues and gain points, Andrew and Nathaniel begin a little treasure hunt of their own. The anonymity of getting to know each other in small increments, never meeting face-to-face, allows them a level of intimacy neither are used to. Meanwhile Renee’s friend Neil is acting weird whenever Andrew shows up…

This was one of the first fics I read for aftg!! And BOY what a great start!! All of the little pieces and parts that work together, and just the scavenger hunt itself is fantastic! (I also REALLY wanna know if there is an app like this out there because I would be down to do that)

Chapters: 8/8

Rating: Mature

Warnings: (these all come from the author:) “mentions of historical abuse in a mental asylum, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder and kidnapping, morbid facts, creepy abandoned places including a haunted house at a theme park with disturbing rooms, special appearance of a creepy clown doll, fatphobia and some introspection on body image/complicated relationship with food, mention of self harm scars”

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Scared to Live (But I’m Scared to Die) by Major_816 ( @major816 )

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

It is VERY dark, and is one of very few fics that I have actually been almost unable to read one of the scenes, so DEFINITELY pay attention to the warnings -- both these, and the ones provided for each individual chapter. I did go through the fic to collect as many warnings as I could find in the chapter warnings, but be sure to take care of yourself.

Chapters: 36/36

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: rape/non-con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, discussions of rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, graphic descritions, physical abuse, panic attacks, descriptions of injuries (often graphic), psychological warfare, dissociating, psychological torture, physical torture, use of knives, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, pain-induced delirium, rape/non-con, emotional self-separation, suicidal ideation/thoughts of suicide, emotional distress (which sums up the whole fic and also me while reading it), handcuffs/chains used as restraints, referenced/implied abuse towards animals, vomitting, begging, excessive use of painkillers, drowning, waterboarding, physical restraint, mutilation of an animal, mild hallucinations, non-con drugging, sleep deprivation, starvation, humiliation, the Butcher, 

Also one of the first fics I read and 100% my absolute favorite fic!!! Which is adfjhsd a little worrying, considering, but it is what it is. Anyway. This fic absolutely wrecked me, and while it is technically complete, there is a sequel in the works! So! But I am so so excited for the sequel, and I am working on rereading this. It’s amazing. 1000/10.

[lipstickbisous]

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

a/n: this is for @celestialbarnes' 4k writing challenge!! the prompt is "you said you loved me." "i lied." it's funny bc with the character and prompts i actually found this super challenging, but i loved writing it!!

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, former!stucky

summary: when the nightmares come, and the memories return, at least he has you there. and when he doesn't, his ghost appears.

warnings: angst central, mentions of financial struggles, implied suicidal thoughts, reader is a dick, mentions of stucky, sad!bucky, smut; sir!kink, bucky speaking russian, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), choking, creampie, slight cockwarming 18+ MINORS DNI

word count: 3.2k

the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.

masterlist

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

his iron hand is covered in a felt glove that hits the hem of his jacket sleeve, entirely concealing the vibranium from prying eyes. metallic fingers lift a gathering of plastic bags filled with groceries almost tearing through the bottom like he's lifting air. the weight on his left arm hangs with a force of gravity as he struggles to push in the key to his front door. the ceiling lights of his apartment hallway would've been considered tasteful in 1945, but now he could see the shadow of cobwebs and dust collecting on the tops. it created a filter over the lighting that made the hallway look haunted and abandoned.

when bucky had been pardoned by the government, he didn't see it as a sign of hope. he knew that without steve, there was no one to assure that he'd be given a safe home, he'd be protected. and without steve, life had been duller and gray. there had been a blossoming love for the blue-eyed man that sat inside of his chest, and then, it had started to plant itself deep in the burrows of his heart. seaweed-colored vines found themselves tracing the outline of his skeleton, and each leaf that bloomed was another aching memory of him. moments in brooklyn that had taken place decades ago were still fresh and he dreamed of them every night. how was bucky to cut them out by himself?

when he looked up, he saw the tufts of blonde hair underneath the hallway lights. his lips were parted in shock as his heart shattered again. "i'm sorry," he had whispered, shoving his hands together nervously, picking at his nails and the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. bucky's mind was racing, heart was soaring as he approached him, and he wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

"need help?" a voice echoed through the hallway, and suddenly, the walls didn't seem so haunted anymore. he was gone, but that was for the better because here you were and bucky didn't need anything else. you were light and when his eyes looked up at you, he could've sworn an intake of oxygen forced itself into his 100-year old lungs.

it was an easy answer. bucky didn't need to do it by himself, because just in the moment of his thundering darkness, of the smallest thoughts at would it be like to end it right there, you took a pair of shears and slashed away all the vines. the leaves scattering the insides of his body fell, and the suffocating grip the roots of that toxic love had on his heart were released. bucky could breathe again and steve was forgotten. because here you were.

and god, was he thankful. he only lightly chuckled while a deep red hue took over the skin of his cheeks. you approached him delicately, licking your tongue over your lips for repeated moisture and reached out to take the key from his quivering hand. he stepped to the side with a small smile and allowed you to unlock his door. he'd allowed you so many things, opening so many places he didn't know existed...not even steve could do that. "what'd you buy today?" you asked, grabbing several of the bags he had and set them on his kitchen counter.

he followed your actions and shrugged, "not much," and flipped the switch of his kitchen lights. they were a blaring white-light that made his head hurt if he looked at them for too long. damn it, he thought to himself. new light bulbs were the one thing he'd forgotten while at the store. "just enough to get through the week." he would've offered to cook you dinner, but with the assumption that with this late hour you would've already eaten, he shrugged it off. "what're you here for?"

it was an abrupt question but he didn't mean it with harmful intentions. with a sigh, you crossed your arms and looked to the tile floors. the way he looked at you were if he was a small bird, his wings broken and feathers plucked and you were the only one who could heal him. "i didn't know if you were busy," but the healing was over. he could finally soar again without a limp and you were no longer needed--it hurt to think about for too long. "i didn't want you to be alone."

he could feel his heart swelling to a size ten times larger than what it had been before, locked away in its ivory cage. the only one who had held the key had been him, but you tore it from his hands because he did not deserve it. you did. "i don't want to be a bother to you," he smiled poorly and ineffectively. there was still that small part of james buchanan barnes that doubted everything everyone told him, and you were hoping all the moments in the world spent together could fix that.

"jesus," you mutter with a light breath, one that's small but enough to replenish bucky with life. "you're never a bother to me. i love you." those words would be the death of him. he longed to hear them as he fell from the train, whispered into his ear every time his memory was reset because bucky had never gotten a chance to do something for himself. but this--this relationship, this beautiful thing he had with you--he finally had control. you begin to unpack the groceries he'd gotten, seeing that a carton of black cherry ice-cream was already beginning to melt, but before you get the chance to throw it in his freezer, bucky's ionic arm pulls you by the waist.

the other one grabs your cheek and attaches his lips to yours with an aggressive but desperate kiss that ached with need. he was soft and warm, darting his tongue between the opening to your mouth and letting it meet yours. with the sudden though appreciated action, you let the ice cream carton fall to his kitchen floor, the lid popping off so that white cream and cherry chunks create a puddle near your feet. bucky doesn't dare break the connection of you two as he lifts you by your thighs, hoisting your around his waist and carrying you to his bedroom door.

his lock had been broken when he'd moved into the damp and smelly apartment, so he turned himself around and pushed the door open with his broad back as you peeled the fabric that covered his chest. his shirt was dismantled to the side, left to find sometime in the morning. "james-" you whispered through your kiss because, as he'd told you the one night you had shared dinner, you were the only one allowed to say that name. that small part of him that was still james buchanan barnes wanted to hear it from your lips only.

"sh," he quickly silenced you, placing you underneath him on his mattress like you were a delicate feather, and a touch too rough would turn you to dust. his metallic fingers pulled the ragged jeans you'd chosen that morning, leaving your legs bare to the freezing air of his home. he noticed the way your skin prickled with the cold and immediately engulfed your lower half with him. you were soothed with a loving rush of warmth as he peppered wet kisses around your thighs and waist. the bumps on your skin were gone and you felt whole again. his kisses moved to your stomach as he crawled over you with a look in his eyes you'd seen before.

"please, james," you threw your head back once his lips latched themselves to your neck. one arm wrapped around your torso, supporting your back, and the other was tracing the outline of your body with gentle touches. trailing from your shoulder to your waist, to the place between your legs that ached. cotton panties clothed your bottom and front, but they'd have to do more to get in his way.

he looks away for one moment and freezes. there he is, sitting in the chair bucky had placed in the corner of his room. he wore only a tight pair of black boxers and it clung to his skin like a second layer. his hair, dirty blonde and greasy, hung on his forehead. he had his head propped on his hand, watching intently at you both. but when your hands cupped his cheeks, and pressed him closer to you, he disappeared and the anxiety melted into your touch.

the tip of his finger pressed directly on your clothed clit as soon as he began to suck on your jaw, pushing your head back even more than before. "baby," you immediately clenched around nothing, squeezing your hand around the metal limb and he could've sworn you almost bent it.

his chuckle was deep and rumbled from his chest so that it vibrated your entire body underneath him. "what do you want, honey?" his voice dripped with fox-like slyness and his smirk had you flooding into his head.

"make me feel good..." you trailed off, eyes fluttering shut so you never noticed him move lower down your body. he pulled your panties to the side and pressed his tongue flat against your folds, so your warmer and wetter than before. his spit mixes with your fluids when he rips the cotton into shreds and throws it next to your head. "please, sir," you croak and bucky growls into your core between your legs. you wrap them around his neck and his face only reddens a tiny bit when his primary focus becomes exploring the inside of your heat. his tongue darts past your opening, wet as he pushes through the barrier only slightly stretching you. the muscle is tight and clamps down around him, but he lets the tip of his tongue push up, down, to the sides, and up again.

you released the pressure around his neck mostly because the addition of his finger against your bead was more than enough to handle. "i know you love that, doll," he whispers against your cunt, literally dripping juices from his mouth. it trails down his chin where it sticks to the curve of your ass. "love my fingers toying with your little pussy, edging you so you can cum all over my mouth," his words are filth, but then again, he has his face shoved against your wet lips, his nose bumping that sensitive spot so you moaned even louder with every passing second.

your nods are stuttered with a, "yes, sir," before he pulls away, placing both of his hands by your shoulders and meeting your eyes. you whine and groan, letting your hips rub the air for some sort of friction and bucky only smirked. gone was the thought of him and here was the beautiful presence of you. he began to unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding over the boxers covering his manhood. he held his weight in his hand, giving small strokes so he grew firmer and heavier, rubbing the head through your folds to gather your slick. you moaned, "no, james, let me help-"

his fingers took your chin so your eyes drew from his length and met him. "i just want you," bucky whispers inches away from you and pressed himself against your hole, stretching open your walls so you suffocated him. "so perfect, doll, so fucking tight."

your moan took control of his heart, leaving a clenched fist squeezing the muscle in his chest. you pressed your head into his hand he'd placed underneath you, curving your back so he rutted into a new angle. "m-more, sir," you whispered breathlessly, and it almost came out with a rasp.

"what was that, little girl?" he sneered, smirking into your ear. you could feel hot breath fanning against the side of your head, an addition to the pleasure in between your legs. his fingers trailed down your stomach with a little tickle to wear your clit dragged against his length as he continued to set a brutal pace. his balls met your ass with every pounding thrust, and his fingers harshly pinched your clit. "this good enough for you, baby doll?"

your nods are rapid and desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he hits that spot inside you. he notices it when he does--your mouth twitches and your hand shoots up to the wrist that holds your clit when he begins to rub it. "yes, sir, t-thank you," your voice cracks, words are staggered, and it's exactly how bucky likes to see you. vulnerable because he made you this way. all undone just for him.

the hand underneath your head manages to wrap around your neck, applying a pressure that cuts off your air supply. "fuck, sweetheart, this cunt's wrapped around me so tight," all of the pain, all of the suffering, and all of the dreams of ending it were nonexistent in moments like these. everything that was remnant of him was gone and for once, bucky was okay that. "so fucking perfect," he cried, eyes watering when you clenched down around him. his ghost no longer haunted him in both the shadows and light. it was like you scared him away, arms defensively shielding bucky from any harm that he could possibly cause. and yet, here you were, unraveling like a thread from a sweater simply because he could do it to you.

the pressure on your pearl, his thumb ensuring you couldn't fully breathe, and the way he continuously rammed into your sensitive spot, you were so close. you could already feel yourself just barely letting go around him, and he could too. "not yet, malen'kiy," he grinned, leaning down so his lips dragged over your chest down to where you bud clung to the cold air of his home. his eyes met yours with a playful glance as soon as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, immediately sucking harshly.

"you're evil," you manage to giggle cutting yourself off with an unexpected, pornographic moan when his teeth nipped down around you. he pulls his hand away from your neck to hear what other noises you have to give.

his chuckle was deep once again and this time, it vibrated your entire body. both of your bodies fluidly moved together, pushing and messing up the sheets he'd tightly fitted against his mattress earlier that day. you knew there'd be a puddle of your juices left on the blankets, and like always, you'd offer to wash them for him and bucky would decline. "just cum, doll," he speaks lowly. he's teasing you and he knows it.

"c-can i please cum, sir?" you batted your eyes, innocently pouting for a release. it was close and painful to hold it back any longer, growing more intense with every moment passing.

the smirk played on his lips was threatening and scary. you couldn't even remember all the times he'd denied you of an organism, pushing you over so that your toes dangled off the edge of the cliff only to pull you back. with his lips still wrapped around your bud, his hips still jutting against yours like he was a rabid dog, grunting and groaning, he spoke clearly, "cum."

if bucky could record your moans, cries, sobs, and screams--and maybe he has...--he'd listen to it until the day he died. your thighs shook around his hips, somehow loosening and tightening yourself. as you flooded around him, he could feel the warmth surrounding his length and just as you finished convulsing, clawing his vibranium arm and pulling at his hair, his tip brushed harshly against your cervix.

"fuck!" he groaned, as a shot of white fluid filled you to brim, leaving a heavy weight that spilled out with a tickle when he finally pulled from you. "oh, honey..." he must've stayed inside you for an hour, collapsing so his chest met yours and his kisses stayed on your jaw. and when the emptiness did return, leaving you to miss his cock already, he watched your eyelids fall heavy with sleep. bucky pulled the blanket over you, falling slump next to your body and wrapping his arms around yours.

your light snores and breaths were music that lulled him to sleep. the white noise he needed because the silence was scary now. he'd stayed awake for two hours after you'd fallen asleep, watching the way your chest rose and fell with an inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale pattern. and when his eyes drifted over to the armchair in the corner of his room, his ghost was no longer there to taunt him.

time flew and morning came, like always. and like always, you left without anything to wear underneath your pants and a kiss on the lips from him.

his feet padded throughout his apartment floor, wearing nothing more than black boxers and a cheap cotton t-shirt he'd gotten that barely protected him. he strolled over to his window that overlooked the street, and chuckled when he noticed you discreetly limp to your car. as you drove away, creating a distance between you, that darkness that overtook his soul returned. your presence drifted and no more could he hold you, and now, the vines began to grow.

they grew lethal thorns, bloomed toxic blossoms around his heart. he began to suffocate again, feeling a pain his chest that only you could alleviate. but now you were gone. it was when bucky wandered into his kitchen with sagging shoulders, he stepped into a wet puddle of melted ice cream and black cherries. it covered the ball of his foot with a sticky, gross layer and he collapsed.

he folded, leaning into his lap and holding his head in his hands. tears leaked into his palm, slipping through the cracks of his fingers and onto the floor. his face turned a bright red, only this time it was due to a rush of blood and an oncoming headache. he cried your name, he cried his name, and on the third body-racking sob of a garbled "steve", it was like he had summoned his arrival.

his phantom presence left a chilling feeling in the air. and without even having to look up, bucky knew that this version of steve wasn't even real. this wasn't his ghost. this wasn't him. this wasn't him returning to see bucky because he cared. this was a part of bucky's imagination, a sick and twisted form of therapy because when bucky didn't have you, he had nothing else. "you said you loved me," he had cried, biting down on his knuckles and wrist. when he met his blue eyes with a heartbroken glance, steve's expression didn't budge.

bucky had created this version of steve--this evil and cruel version of him that only made this heartache worse. he brought this torture on himself and now, he could barely handle it.

he stood, towering above him with his fists clenched. his eyes bore a hot hole in bucky's skull and every passing moment was hell. there were flames beginning to engulf bucky's body, burning his skin and leaving him as a pile of dust. after all, that's what he had been for those past five years, leaving him to learn that he didn't really need bucky. and that tore every part of him apart.

"i lied." he muttered, lips tight against his teeth as if it hurt him to say it. but still, he stood above bucky with an emotionless stare.

his cries filled the walls of his home for the rest of the day, waiting for the next chance he got to hold you again.

mutuals: @balenciagabucky @cloudystevie @honeyloverogers @steebsbabygirl @ronimina @honeychicana @fairytaleseb @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @avengersbau @bvckysmoon @sapphireplums @a-little-counter-esperanto @letters-to-esme @capsiclecevans @babyyhoneyydarling @honeysucklesteve

[the-gentleman-pining]

Episode 2: Red Flags

Yes I'm gonna put these in one long post so I can keep it aaaallll together. I'm a disaster but I'm an ✨organised disaster✨

Damn it looks comfy on the Red Flag, this crew doesn't seem to be treated too bad at all! Not knowing anything about Zheng Yi Sao I have no idea how realistic that is 😅

Stede hon you need to sleeeep 🥺

THE MUSIC. This is gonna be the one for me I think.

THE SOOT ON WEDDING CAKE TOPPER STEDE WHERE ED IS HOLDING IT TO HIS FACE IM GONNA BREAK SOMETHING

I know it's old news but Bride!Ed is still just. Heartwrenching.

Moving them closer but not touching,, even when he's mourning the life he could have had,, my babygirl got burned so bad I'm actually gonna cry again if I think about any of this too much

Toppling them off the window and the sad deadness in Ed's eyes as he looks at himself and just... pushes. God this season is heavy stuff and I'm so here for it.

YES QUEEN 💪💪💪

What is this little sea witch subplot ahaha I'm so here for it being played straight

Zheng Yi Sao are you taking prospective job applications...

ONE OTHER MAN ON BOARD YOU SAY??? 👀👀👀

🐀

what's new queen 💅

fr I'm so glad he's back already like I'd have been ok with a reveal later on but I actually love Lucius and !!he's here he's here he's already here!! I get to enjoy the boy!!!

Black Pete's scrunched up little eyebrows in the hug aaaaaaa I love these two

🙄 men are so fucking emotional YES AND WE LOVE IT HAH

"I love all of it!" and Lucius looking beyond relieved and overwhelmed by love I'm??? Nathan you're going to make me ill.

Roach why tf you interrupting mind your business

Lucius you're not a good liar I know the "my mum thought I was straight for years thing" but the way you are BEHAVING babygirl it's suspicious as fuck I'm sorry

"you have impeccable balance babe" is said so casually yet it's so specific I'm horribly invested in these two,, yess Pete call him out in the loveliest way imaginable I'm obsessed

Wee John guyliner is such a vibe and bless his excitement about tailoring I'll never forget how Stede helped these guys unlock being unafraid to be themselves ❤️

Towels is about your speed, Stede I'm not gonna lie, you're more qualified for towels than captaincy for sure!

Hot! and Cheerful!Ed jumpscare! Most beautiful wig ever constructed jumpscare! I'm not immune to the middle aged wanted poster pirate.

On a serious note this portrayal of suicidal ideation and the illusion of improvement when they've made their choice is so masterfully done. It's haunting.

Ed knows Frenchie didn't kill Izzy, of course. He's not stupid. He's self sabotaging, not stupid. He enjoys the control of making everyone squirm.

Frenchie honey you're so bad at this 😭

Pasty dying sweaty screaming Izzy you're a bit of a mess sweetie but don't panic your found family is here to incompetently help ❤️ Like I know you've got nothing left because you've lost Ed and he's all you cared about but consider this: friends!

Adding "Ohhh he's a gusher!" to my long list of reasons I'm obsessed with Archie

Lucius I owe you my firstborn for actually telling Stede he's being a cunt.

"Ed pushed you?" said with the incredulity of a man who forgot all his friends got marooned..

NATHAN YOU'RE ACTING YOUR HEART OUT but also "oh yeah, now you care" in that low voice like what are you trying to do to us,, why is broken Lucius hottttt 😭

Sea witch subplot my beloved,, please understand I want animorphs Buttons so bad (not carnally, just to witness him, don't get any weird ideas)

Oh Frenchie you're right that you weren't qualified for this babe you're like a lamb to the slaughter

KNOW THE SMELL??? Izzy and Ed are fucked up beyond belief this is unhinged.

Jim why are you playing with the leg

Also Jim you're such a romantic now I'm weak for it (and so is Archie it seems!)

Saw some people saying this kiss/relationship is too rushed bc it took Olu so long to get past Jim's was but that's the point!!! Look how different Jim is!! They're so much more emotionally available to everyone!! Because of Olu and the rest of the crew showing them that family doesn't have to be by blood!

But I will say that kissing while cloth is coming that far out your nose is deranged behaviour like that's gonna accidentally get in the way ewww

Buzzkill cockblock first mate where have I seen that before... 🤔 Just let Zheng Yi Sao have her fuckin meal she's EATING!!!

Olu is so lovely I just don't think he should ever be in trouble ever

"Yeah. I fucked that up." 😔

How is this pirate queen this awkward I love her so much I want the world for her.

Roachtatouille

Edgy smokerboi Lucius is so funny I know it's not funny but it's so funny I don't make the rules

Stede shut up or I'll riot challenge

Honestly "my spicy little ratboy" was such a relatable blunder to try and defuse the tension, Black Pete I see you bestie

Pointing the finger Pete made at him in anger Lucius NO

"The hell is going on in towels?"

Ed and Izzy I love to watch you like bugs but you're scary and upsetting, fellas

Con is just in another league of acting this season it feels like. I'm absolutely convinced by him. It's riveting.

Devastating that both of these idiots hate each other and love each other so much that it makes them deranged. They can't kill each other but they want to. Fucking hell. The cold read from Izzy that Ed is too scared to kill himself followed by immediately doing it (or attempting to) to himself. CHRIST.

"I loved you... best I could." no idea if Ed is just lying to himself but in what way did he ever love Izzy? /gen

NO DON'T GIVE ED THE WHEEL GODDD well here we go.

Stede using his failures to stop Lucius from self sabotage at the expense of his own sanity, good on you man. Best thing you've done for anyone else so far this season. Shame he cut him off.

"He was just a very small man!" Nathan lmao was that you

God, Ed is just begging for someone to end it. He's so far gone. Provoking and trying to act out enough that someone (or something) will do what he's unable to do himself. But desperately wanting someone to prove to him that there's an alternative - that self destructive urge to simultaneously prove your fears and the deeper craving to have them disproved. He's a ruin of a man.

Stede looking out for Lucius and Black Pete like this feels reminiscent of earlier S1 Stede, helping the crew heal, it's really nice. I miss that.

Stede admitting he's part of the reason Ed became so unwell! Growth! That's it king, you can face your mistakes ❤️

Yessss matchmaker Lucius back at it again dropping the truths that people need to hear!!

Vico Ortiz I'm on my knees!! Season 2 Jim is WONDERFUL.

Izzy Hands killing the part of himself that was rotting away shooting Ed unhhh the symbolism. I adore this character he's despicable but he's RIVETING.

Izzy leaning on Fang ❤️❤️❤️

Yeah there it is. "Finally".

FRENCHIE'S SMILE AS JIM DOES IT HHHH

These fellas have been brutalised so bad, Jim's scream is so raw. This fucking season, man.

Decided to rewatch OFMD S2 eps 1-3 and actually jot down my thoughts as I go! Oh what fun! Ngl this is mostly for me babes but if you enjoy it that's neat ❤️

Episode 1: Impossible Birds

Stede bearded in his dream could just be playing to swashbuckling archetypes for funsies, but is it some lingering wish that he was more masculine?

Con O'Neil truly graceful about it with the sword huh

"WHERE IS HE. WHERE'S ED?" Stede seeing Izzy as the thing that is keeping Ed from him when he's the one that left lol ok

His idealised version of Ed doesn't hold him accountable either. My mans doesn't want to face what he did at all!!

His first words to Ed in his letter are reassuring him that the crew are safe, as if he doesn't remember that Ed marooned them and left them for dead on purpose??

I know it's meant to be funny but Jackie was a bit of a sex pest toward Swede at first and the power dynamic was a bit 🫤 Glad he was into it in the end!

WHY DOES WEE JOHN SLAM THE HEAD OF THE ONE WHO GOT STABBED INTO THE TABLE INSTEAD OF THE ONE WHO STABBED THEM?? 😂

Stede truly is unphased by people being assholes to him and I just,,, respect it.

Ricky your vibes are strange and unsettling

Who in their right mind would have an ocean wedding in the golden age of piracy?? I know they probs didn't know it was the golden age of piracy while they were in it but STILL

Ed looks so dead behind the eyes 😭 Just going through the motions eh buddy?

Dressed up like the book Blackbeard I see. God he's trying so hard to inhabit this character.

I would die for Archie. Truly the himbo we need in these depressing angst riddled times.

Jim asking someone else how they're bottling things up?? Hello?? Who are you and what have you done with Jim?? Aren't you the bottling up Master? Olu bewitched you too good and now you've unlocked Feelings 😔

"He's actually a good guy" Stede babygirl did we actually forget the marooning???

I have so much I could say about how Izzy and Blackbeard's relationship has deteriorated hhhhh,,,, Izzy is a problem child but I'm so glad the story is crashing towards his character actually growing and changing. In season 1 he at least got the crumbs Ed would throw him like "I need you here", now he's only getting abuse and maybe he's throwing himself at it because he recognises he had a part to play in reaching this point and believes he deserves it.

Fang's delivery on "how you doing Izzy" will keep me warm and fed all winter. Masterclass in approaching someone, truly tender and genuine but not too pressuring. God.

That second "unhand me" hhh the panic of realising you're going to start crying if the situation continues

Con is gonna rip my heart out and eat it this season if I'm not careful

Labour exploitation Jackie what a girlboss x

Why does "you'll be having a lot of breakfastseses together" sound so ominous though 😭 Smeagol Jackie my worstie...

Stede doing Blackbeard Voice is adorable but damn he really doesn't believe that he made Ed's life better. Like how??? Why doesn't Stede equate happiness with better? Ed was explicitly happier around you ya dingus!

Swede deserves his married bliss so much. The crew can be so mean to him!!

"What am I to you" and "I have... love for you" are said so softly I'm gonna be sick,, Izzy you fucked it by wrestling this man into this particular coping mechanism and your tenderness is coming wayyyy too late. Heartbreaking tbh cause the guy didn't know how else to help Ed and now he's realising it could have been different. Sick and twisted little dynamic I'm eating it like good soup.

Definitely supposed to be taken that Izzy didn't realise "talk it through" was a Stedeism as he said it but godddd you idiot dude

Once again god bless you Archie I'd die for you

Fang I want to rescue you hhhhhh my hot topic fashionista must be so dehydrated from all these tears!!!

No way in hell Ed expected anything else out of Izzy's mouth than something about Stede, but god I wish the guy had just payed attention to Frenchie shaking his head. The catharsis of saying the quiet part out loud wasn't worth your leg, man.

"Start by cleaning up that mess"... yeah we def see Ed is killing people himself again but outsourcing the Big Job on Izzy makes sense. He's also exactly the kind of self sabotager atm that would know Frenchie won't do it, and he's looking for reasons to Be Worse.

Indigo heist my beloved. Fuck those hammies up!! I love how loud Black Pete was omg 😂

Oh fuck off Ricky I know you're a S1 Stede mirror but you're doing it detestably

Roach why is your instinct to immediately put the blue dirt on your face darling

Zheng Yi Sao completely unphased by Jackie is giving me so much delight

Sexy Dutchman 😭😂 Jackie never change

I love that Zheng Yi Sao is taking the whole crew on just to have her lil Olu moment, get it girl

TENDER JIM IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM THEY'VE COME SO FAR. I LOVE THEIR BIG SMILE 😭 (also Archie is so wholesome what is she DOING here???)

Ed oh my god you're not alright at ALL

Frenchie's quiet "sounds like a plan" is just so... painful. The acting this season is off the charts.

When Roach asked if they were in soup now I thought he was referring to the ocean as soup I'm an idiot 😭

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[some-stars]

jeraskier prompts? a more inhuman or monstrous looking type of creature!jaskier being unsure of the witcher's reaction, and Geralt being especially soft and appreciative of all his particularly inhuman aspects? probably cliche, but it's a classic trope for a reason imo. ^^"

OK so this jaskier isn’t really that inhuman or monstrous, just bc of my personal preferences, but he is a snake person (snerson) so i hope that’s good enough. also i couldn’t get to the point of like, geralt kissing down all of jaskier’s scales worshipfully and making out with his snake tongue, but please assume that happens not long after.

(oblig disclaimer, i can’t edit replies to asks or the readmore goes away, please forgive any typos)

--

Approaching a witcher in the first place had been almost suicidally foolish, but Jaskier had been eighteen and bold and, let's face it, stupid, and he'd been drawn by Geralt's golden eyes—so like his own—and brooding silence. By the time he'd realized he was flirting with a monster hunter, it had been just too late to make the wise decision, not when actual adventure awaited just around the corner.

He hadn't, at first, intended to stay long with Geralt. But there was something magnetic about the man—something only partially attributable to the way he had said to the elf, "Don't call me human," and rung a bell in Jaskier's heart.

(I have learned to live with them, Geralt had said, so that I may live, and Jaskier, his glamour apparently strong enough to fool even elven sight, had fallen broken-heartedly in love with him.)

And after the way the song took off—well, it was only a wise career choice; he could justify it to himself that way. Geralt showed no signs of seeing through his glamour for the weeks that they traveled together, that first time, and when they'd parted Jaskier had known it wouldn't be the last time. There were too many stories to be had, and more than that...

Geralt, of course, spent the first two years of their acquaintance grunting and frowning at him, Jaskier only certain of his welcome by the fact that Geralt always accepted his return as, seemingly, an unavoidable fact of life, and made sure to provide enough food for them both (and cook it) when they slept outdoors. Jaskier, being young and virile and in good health and only, almost, human, entertained plenty of fantasies about Geralt, but it was better, he told himself, that they remain fantasies. Better to maintain enough distance, because—fantasies aside—he had no doubt of his fate should Geralt ever discover his true nature.

He was terribly careful, at first. His glamour wasn't as strong when he was asleep, so he made sure to wake early and lie still in bed until Geralt rose first. He needed nutrients, sometimes, that could only be found in the less savory parts of the animal, so he snuck rabbit and deer livers under the pretense of wanting to learn how to clean the animals Geralt killed, wanting to help. He did want to help, which helped to sell it. He wanted to do so many things for Geralt, lift some of the unbearable burden from his shoulders of being spat upon, cursed at, treated like an animal.

So he wrote his songs, and sang them everywhere he went, and by the fifth or sixth time he met with Geralt he was pleased to see the man had replaced his battered, hand-patched armor with a shiny new set, and looked reasonably well-fed. That sense of satisfaction—of having helped—was probably what made him let his guard down.

He'd gotten too comfortable, that was all; forgotten that his traveling companion wasn't actually a kindred spirit but a superhuman monster hunter whose sole purpose in life—much though Jaskier tried to impress on him a love of the finer things—was killing creatures like Jaskier. It was just—early on, when Geralt had given the impression that he might kill Jaskier for talking too loud, it had been easy not to let his guard down. It was only as they grew closer—as Jaskier started patching up Geralt's wounds and cleaning his armor, as Geralt started staying downstairs at inns and listening to Jaskier's playing, as they came to share a bed on occasion (chastely, to Jaskier's sorrow)—that Jaskier started relaxing, exactly the way his mother had warned him he mustn't.

The first slip-up was five years into their acquaintance, when Jaskier forgot to wake up early one morning, and of course it happened to be a morning that he was sharing a bed with Geralt. He woke with a start to light coming in through the window, and before he even had a chance to realize his mistake he felt Geralt's fingers brushing the nape of his neck, not ungently.

"What's wrong with your skin?" he asked, and Jaskier's heart flipped over in his chest. Luckily the room wasn't fully illuminated yet, and as he rolled over to hide the barely-glamoured scales, he quickly adjusted the image he was projecting.

"Oh, I've had a rash there since yesterday," he said breezily, trying and failing to will his heartbeat back to normal, knowing full well Geralt could hear it. "I've always had a bit of an allergy to shellfish."

Geralt eyed him—not suspiciously, but with intent. "Then why did you eat those oysters?"

Jaskier plastered a smile on his face. "Oh, I can't resist a good oyster," he said. "It's worth the itching for a day or two."

Geralt snorted, but apparently filed this away as just another ridiculous thing Jaskier had done, and said no more about it. By the end of the day Jaskier returned his glamour to normal, and he woke before dawn for the next week out of sheer anxiety.

The second slip, however, was the last. It had been two years since Geralt had gotten a glimpse at his scales, and though he sometimes looked askance at Jaskier in the full moonlight, when his glamour was at its weakest, Jaskier had managed to avoid any close inspection.

The contract Geralt had taken that day was for a lesser vampire—an ekimmara, Geralt called it. Jaskier had never seen one before, and insisted on coming along—it was a rare treat, after all these years, to get a chance to write about something entirely new.

"I'll stay out of the way," he promised, hurrying to keep up with Geralt as he headed into the woods. "I'll be ever so quiet, it won't even know I'm here. I just have to get a look at it, and anway, you said it wasn't anything too bad, nothing you can't handle—"

"Fine," Geralt growled, cutting him off, "fine, like I could stop you anyway. Just—stay out of the way."

"I will," Jaskier swore, and he meant it, in that moment. He found a solid tree to hide behind, woven thick with ivy and vines and leaves to peek through, and watched Geralt wait, silver sword shining in the moonlight, for the creature to appear.

It was always a thrill, watching Geralt hunt, and Jaskier found himself on edge listening to every faint sound the forest produced, every insect hiss and crackle of twigs and even the thick, present nature of the silence bearing down on him. Geralt, of course, heard the ekimmara's steps well before Jaskier did, and Jaskier watched him raise his head, his body keeping perfectly still, showing no other sign of alertness or wariness. And then Jaskier heard it—the scrape of claws against the carpet of dead leaves, a whsh-whsh sound that sent a shiver down his spine. When the thing finally emerged it was almost a relief, and he started taking frantic mental notes—hunched, on the short side, reddish black skin—long claws—shriveled face, all the details he'd need to write a good song.

He paid attention to the fight, too, the way Geralt dodged with even more agility than usual, never letting the thing land a blow on him. He moved, at times, too fast for Jaskier to see, and the shivering awareness of just how powerful Geralt was lit up his veins with desire (and the usual hint of fear). But there was no time to think about that, because the ekimmara, despite several silver blows, was closing in on Geralt, pushing him deeper into the woods, out of the small clearing he'd found. Before long Jaskier couldn't see them anymore, though he could still hear the thing's squalling cries and Geralt's heavy breaths.

Without thinking—of course without thinking, when did he ever think—Jaskier stepped out from behind his tree and moved to follow them. He made it almost all the way across the clearing, and he could see another good tree to hide in, one that would give him a decent vantage point on what he could now see only snatches of.

Then, of course, he tripped over a log and landed with a loud grunt as the air was knocked out of him. He stumbled quickly to his feet, but the damage was done; through the tangle of branches he saw the ekimmara turn its head and its black eyes lock onto him unmistakably.

"Fuck," Geralt snarled, "Jaskier," and Jaskier turned and ran, knowing it was useless. He made it all of five steps before the claws raked down his back, tearing through his clothing and deep into his flesh. He stumbled again, feeling his shirt fill with blood, and when the next slash of claws landed across his hip he fell, breathless with pain and terror.

Gods, he thought, let it be quick, and squeezed his eyes shut. A long, long second later he heard the sound of a sword plunging through flesh, and the horrid death-shriek of the ekimmara.

He tried to roll over and sit up, but his wounds were still pumping blood, and he felt impossibly weak. "Geralt," he rasped, and then there Geralt was, swearing at him viciously as his hands gently felt for Jaskier's wounds. Jaskier relaxed a little—Geralt could fix him, get him to a healer, everything would be fine—and then he looked down at his hand and felt his blood turn to ice.

He'd lost his glamour when he was wounded; the moonlight shone down on a hand quite covered in glistening green scales. Geralt tried to help him sit up and he went numbly, his body feeling heavy and stupid. The blood loss, no doubt; he tried as hard as he could to bring the glamour back up, but it didn't work. With his shaking hand, keenly aware of Geralt's eyes on him, he brought his fingers up to touch his face and felt scales there too, as he knew he would.

Jaskier didn't want to look at Geralt—didn't want to see the disgust in his eyes, the moment when he realized, when he finally pulled his sword (silver, of course, silver for monsters). But he was weak and dizzy and couldn't help himself. His eyes met Geralt's and he was shocked to see nothing but fear there as Geralt scooped him up into his arms, still muttering about what a fucking idiot he was, and carried him out of the woods.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier managed, though it took enormous effort to speak. He was vaguely aware that he hadn't stopped bleeding.

"Don't be sorry," Geralt snapped, "just stay put next time," and Jaskier didn't have the energy to say that that wasn't what he was sorry for before sleep, or something like it, took him.

—

He woke in a bed, his back and side burning terribly, and for a few sweet moments he didn't remember what had happened. Then Geralt's face hove into view above him and it came rushing back. Without much hope, Jaskier looked down at his own naked, bandaged body, and sure enough his scales were on full display. If he'd had a mirror to look in, he was sure he would have seen yellow, slitted eyes.

"Jaskier," Geralt said, and the relief in his voice was utterly incongruous. Could he not see what was in front of him? And why had he gone to the trouble of bandaging Jaskier, rubbing that stinging salve into his wounds, if he was just going to have to kill him later?

Because that was what witchers did, of course. They killed monsters. And Jaskier knew—had always known—that he was a monster.

But Geralt made no move for his sword. In fact, he sat down on the bed next to Jaskier and reached out a hand to touch his forehead. Jaskier's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked, lacking the courage to ask what he really meant—why aren't I dead yet?

"Checking for fever," Geralt said. "Ekimmara claws are nasty, and you could have an infection. But the wounds look all right, and your temperature is normal." He frowned uncertainly. "Well, I think it's normal. Do you run the same as a regular human?"

Jaskier opened his mouth, then closed it, utterly at a loss. He stared up at Geralt and couldn't think of a single thing to say as Geralt watched him, all brusque concern.

"A little cooler," he said finally. "Geralt, aren't you going to kill me?"

Geralt flinched. "I'm not going to kill you. What do you take me for?"

"A monster hunter," Jaskier said, he thought quite reasonably. "And I'm—I mean, look at me." He gestured at his body, shimmering with green scales all down his sides and most of his legs, his hands and forearms, his neck. He'd never known what he was, exactly, other than the latest incarnation of the family curse. His mother had hidden him away until he was old enough to learn his glamour, and he'd never forgotten it since—not even, anymore, when he was alone.

Of course, he'd never been clawed half to death by a lesser vampire, either, and apparently that kind of thing broke one's concentration somewhat. He could probably pull it back up now, but what would be the point? Geralt knew, and any moment, surely, he would get over whatever sentiment was holding him back and do what had to be done.

Only it didn't look like was getting over it. It looked like he was watching Jaskier with impossibly sad eyes, those golden eyes that had drawn Jaskier to him in the first place. Jaskier held his breath and waited.

"You're not a monster," Geralt said eventually. Jaskier stared at him disbelievingly.

"I have scales," he said. "And fangs—" He bared his teeth to show them. "I mean, they're retractable, but still. And I have to eat at least a pound of liver and pancreas a month or I get horribly sick. I'm not human."

Geralt shrugged. "Plenty of people aren't human," he said, as if it were that simple.

"And you're not—" Jaskier stopped, embarrassed, because he had been about to ask, And you're not disgusted by me? As though that mattered, what Geralt thought of his weird half-snake body. As though Geralt thought of his body at all, when it wasn't wounded.

"You don't think it's hideous?" he asked finally, unable to hold it back.

Geralt let out a low chuckle. "It looks wonderful," he said. "Like a snakeskin bag, but shimmering and alive."

Slowly, not quite believing it, Jaskier exhaled. "As long as you don't plan to make me into leather," he said, and managed a smile.

"How about next time, you stay put like I tell you to," Geralt said, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "and we'll forgo the snakeskin bags. Though I'm sure I could fetch a pretty price for them."

"That," Jaskier informed him haughtily, "is offensive, I'll have you know." He felt dizzy again, but this time with relief. And there was a dull pain missing in the back of his head—the exhaustion, he realized, from keeping the glamour up full time all those years. Gods, it felt amazing to let it go.

He'd have to keep it up around other people, of course. He had no illusions about how well-received his true form would be by people who found golden eyes and white hair on an otherwise handsome human man unforgivable mutations. But just knowing he'd be able to let it down around Geralt was such a blissful thought he couldn't hold back a thoroughly stupid smile.

Geralt matched it with his own, smaller and more dignified, and for the first time that he could remember, Jaskier felt safe.

[airplanelanding]

For the Angst April Fic: 25 - Immortality

YES THIS WAS ONE I RLY WANTED TO DO TYSM HELL YES THIS IS GONNA BE AN ANGSTY ONE (also loving the new post editor on desktopppp [i have beta on])

Tysm for sending me this one ohhh I'm so happy you sent this one

cw: temporary character death, (technically) suicide (but in the context of proving immortality & bc he knew he'd survive, not because he was suicidal)

Fic below the cut

Immortality

Merlin breathed out slowly, the air leaving his lungs with a sigh.

His eyes fell shut, drooping slowly lower and lower until they closed, and his grip on Arthur began to loosen.

Faintly, he heard a panicked voice stumbling through words he couldn't understand.

He could feel his heartrate slowing. One... Two...... Three...... Four...... Five...... Six......

Slower, slower, slower...

His name, he heard his name being called. A choked sob. A tight grip around his body. Then, nothing...

Then...

Merlin inhaled sharply, his eyes opening abruptly. There was a harsh, stinging pain in his stomach. He ignored it for the moment, as he broke out into a coughing fit, desperately gasping for breath between coughs.

He didn't—what just happened? He was sure he had—

"Merlin?!" The voice ripped him out of his confusion as he quickly turned his gaze to the man cradling his body in his arms.

"Arthur...?" Merlin asked, his voice rough from coughing so much.

"Merlin, no, but you were..." Arthur's grip on Merlin loosened, his confusion clear as day. "We have to get you back home, back to Gaius."

Merlin just groaned softly, leaning his head against the King's chest. "'m tired..."

Arthur slowly stood up, lifting Merlin in his arms as he did so he was carrying him.

"Don't fall asleep, Merlin, dammit, you're such an idiot..." Arthur muttered as he began to walk, "we're lucky we're close enough to the edge of the forest, the attack spooked the horses... You can't just keep jumping in front of me like that, sorcerer or not, one of these you're going to—I thought this time you had..."

The sorcerer just groaned again and shut his eyes.

"I did..." He whispered, trying his hardest not to let sleep take him. He felt Arthur tense, stumbling in his step slightly.

"No, no you couldn't have, because you're alive," Arthur sounded more like he was trying to assure himself rather than Merlin. "You just lost consciousness for a few minutes. That's all."

Merlin frowned but didn't argue, not having the energy. Instead he just hid his face in Arthur's shoulder. He knew he died... He felt it. He felt himself die, his heart stop... Yet, he was alive. He was breathing. He was exhausted, and his entire body ached and his stomach burned where he was struck, but... He was alive.

How was he alive?

"Merlin... Merlin, my boy, I need you to open your eyes..."

Ah, Gaius, he must be home... When did he fall asleep? Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes.

"Gaius...?" Merlin groaned, looking around for the man as he blinked a few times to clear his eyes, "What happened? I—I died... But I'm alive."

When his eyes finally landed on the old physician's grim expression, a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Merlin, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you," Gaius sighed, before sitting down on the edge of the sorcerer's bed. "Arthur brought you back, with a fatal wound in your stomach. He told me what happened and I am certain that you did not just lose consciousness, I am certain you died..."

"I did, I felt it happen, but, Gaius, I am alive," Merlin insisted, propping himself up on his elbows with a wince.

Gaius' mouth drew into a thin line. "You are, indeed. So, I did some research while you were out these past three days—"

"Three days?!"

"—and I discovered something... Something about your name to the druids," Gaius continued as if Merlin never interrupted him. "Emrys, it... Means immortal. And these events are leading me to the conclusion that they don't call you this for no reason."

Merlin's heart dropped. Immortal... He's... Merlin shook his head.

"No, no, there must be another explanation," he laughed, but he was not at all amused. Gaius sighed softly and placed a hand on his wards shoulder.

"I'm afraid there's not... I consulted Mordred, and he confirmed my suspicion. You're immortal, Merlin."

Merlin slumped down onto his magic. He felt ill... Oh gods, he felt so sick.

"But I can't be..."

Merlin took a deep breath as he paced the King’s chambers, waiting for him to arrive back from a council meeting.

How was he supposed to tell Arthur the truth?

He couldn’t lie—he promised, they promised. No more secrets, no more lies. But dammit, this was… This wasn’t just something like he had magic, or he’d ripped his favourite shirt.

He was immortal.

Oh, it felt so wrong to even think…

How do you tell someone you’re immortal? How do you tell someone you love that you’re going to live forever, that you’ll have to watch them wither away and die along with everyone else you know…?

Merlin took a nervous breath and let himself drop into a chair at Arthur’s table. He was going to have to watch everyone he’d ever loved die…

He was forced to live on for eternity while everyone he cared about struggled with mortality.

A cruel fate… Yet, the druids dared to call him blessed.

Blessed. That was a good joke.

How could one be called blessed when condemned to such a life?

Merlin ran his hands through his hair. He’d be alone… Never able to grow attached to someone, too afraid of losing them like he knew he would… A lonely life, he’d be sentenced to. Should he start pushing people away now…? Save himself the pain?

No, he couldn’t. That would be cruel to them, as well as himself…

“Merlin?” The sorcerer nearly leapt out of his skin at the voice to his right. “Merlin, you’re awake! And, up! How are you feeling?”

Merlin dropped his hands and looked over to Arthur, who looked so happy and hopeful at the sight of him. Here he was, about to crush that…

“I—” Merlin hesitated, and Arthur’s brows furrowed in a frown.

“You? You what?” The King pushed, concern flickering on his face a moment, “are you alright? You look like you’re about to be ill. Should you be out of bed yet? Gaius said you only just woke recently…”

A tense silence hung between them, as Merlin contemplated how to say the words that had been weighing on his chest. Finally, when Arthur looked like he was going to give up, Merlin found the courage to speak up.

“I can’t die,” he forced out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat. Arthur’s eyes widened impossibly wide, as he stared incredulously at his friend and lover.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating.

“…What?” He finally got out. Merlin gave a weak smile, knowing just how crazy it sounded.

“I can’t die,” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly as the reality of it hit him, this having been the first time he spoke the words aloud. His eyes stung, but he blinked away the tears as he stared at Arthur, holding eye contact. “I…I’m immortal, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a breath, stunned by the revelation.

Merlin expected him to laugh, to claim him lying, or even to leave the room or tell Merlin to leave. Even after all they’d been through, after the months they’d been together after finally getting their heads out of their asses and confessing… Merlin was shocked, only minorly but still so, when Arthur suddenly grabbed and pulled Merlin into a tight embrace.

He tensed a moment, startled, but slowly relaxed and returned the hug, burying his face in Arthur’s shoulder.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Arthur murmured, “what do you say when you find out your soon-to-be husband is immortal?”

Merlin huffed out a soft laugh. “I don’t know… I didn’t think we’d ever have to deal with that.”

Arthur hummed softly before falling quiet. They stood there, in each other’s arms for a few minutes, just…silent. Until, finally, Merlin pulled away with a shaky breath.

“Hey,” Arthur sighed, raising a hand to the sorcerer’s face and cupping his cheek, “we’ll get through this together, yes?”

“There’s not much to get through, Arthur… I’m going to have to watch everyone I’ve ever loved die before my eyes,” Merlin muttered, before leaning into the touch, “but yes, I won’t turn down your support…”

Arthur frowned at him a moment before exhaling and stepping back to stretch. “Let’s take your mind off this. I have some new legislation to review, come assist me.”

Merlin laid in Arthur’s bed that night, unable to sleep. His mind raced, and his heart ached as he laid on his side, staring at his betrothed.

Before, Destiny had weighed him down with the possibility that he’d be forced to watch the man he loved be taken from him. Now… Now, it was inevitable. He would watch as Arthur faded from life, no matter how he died. He’d have to watch him… He would lose him and he could do nothing.

It wasn’t just Arthur, either, he realized with a pang of hurt.

Gwen… Morgana, Leon… Elyan, and Gwaine, and Lancelot… Percival… Everyone. Everyone was going to be taken from him.

Gaius… His mother.

Merlin choked back a sob, closing his eyes tightly. Everyone. Everyone.

He could never have children.

Oh, gods, he could never have children… He—he’d be condemned to watch them grow old and die.

Was this really what fate wanted for him? What destiny planned?

How cruel. How unnecessarily, unbelievably cruel. What was the point of it? Why, why do this to him? Did they simply wish to see him suffer? Did the gods believe they were granting him a favour? Did they believe they were rewarding him, by subjecting him to a life of eternal loneliness and heartache?

Did they think it amusing?

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice, thick with sleep, snapped him out of his spiral, “why are you awake, cariad? It’s the middle of the night…”

Merlin quickly wiped away the tears that had slipped free, as Arthur blinked open his eyes slowly and yawned. “Couldn’t sleep…” He mumbled, “what about you? Did I wake you?”

“Mm… Technically, no, but I could feel your eyes on me.” Arthur shifted closer and pulled Merlin against him, resting their foreheads together. “What were you thinking about? Oh, no, I know…”

He paused, yawning again, before continuing. “The immortal thing, hm?”

Merlin’s silence seemed to be all the answer needed, because Arthur sighed softly and pressed a tired kiss to his nose.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you? It’ll be fine, Merlin,” he assured, sounding way too confident for someone who’s words were slurred, “we’ll figure something out… We always do. You won’t be alone… won’t let you…”

“I appreciate that, Arthur…” Merlin said truthfully, “now, get back to sleep… You have things to do tomorrow.”

Arthur hummed, closing his eyes again.

“You sleep, too…” He ordered as he drifted back to sleep.

“I’ll try,” Merlin promised, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on Arthur.

It was a sennight later that Merlin wandered the castle corridors with a frown on his face, eyes searching a head of blond as he walked.

Arthur had been acting strange since they discovered Merlin’s immortality, and now… Now he was just gone?

Merlin had searched the castle three times, and no one had seen him all day. He woke up without the King in bed beside him, the knights knew nothing, the servants knew nothing, Gaius and Gwen knew nothing…

It was like he just disappeared!

How does a King disappear?

Merlin took a deep breath, calming himself. He was worried, yes, of course, but he was also growing slowly angry.

How dare he just disappear without a word?! That man had better have been kidnapped for his sake. After another few minutes searching the castle, Merlin finally just stalked back to their chambers.

Arthur had better have a very good explanation when he got back, Merlin decided as he flung the doors open and stomped over to the bed before flopping onto it. Or else he’d getting turned into a toad. A big, ugly, slimy, wart-covered toad. And Merlin’s not changing him back.

Merlin groaned loudly into the duvet in frustration.

Stupid, stupid prat.

How dare he just disappear like it was nothing and leave Merlin there to worry like a mother hen over her eggs all day! He probably didn’t even realize how concerned Merlin was now.

It wasn’t like he was worried for no good reason, either, because that damn man knew how to get into trouble in any situation, and how the hell is he supposed to help Merlin deal with the fact that he’s immortal if he’s deadthanks to his own idiocy!

Merlin’s stomach turned at the thought, and he rolled over onto his back before sitting up. A frown creased his forehead, and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth anxiously.

What if he really was in danger? What if he was really in danger and Merlin was here, thinking bad about him?

He should go look for him again.

He’s immortal, after all (yay), he doesn’t have to worry about dying protecting Arthur! Arthur, on the other hand, was a fucking beacon for assassins and danger. Right. That decided it.

Merlin pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way to the door. Then, right as he moved to open it, the door opened to reveal the very prat he was leaving to save, and his heart calmed. He was safe.

“You’re safe…” Merlin sighed, visibly relieved. Arthur frowned in confusion and nodded.

“Yes… I am,” he agreed. Then, it hit Merlin.

He’s safe.

Merlin narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I’m going to turn you into a toad and squash you beneath my boot.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction, before his lips pulled up into an amused smirk.

“Well, that’s rather messy—and graphic.”

“You deserve no less, where have you been?!”

“I was, with the druids, actually,” Arthur cleared his throat, looking away, “Morgana took me to see them.”

Merlin frowned, his glare disappearing to be replaced with a confused look. “What? Why were you with the druids? What took you all day with the druids?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I… Needed their help with something. Look, it’s better if I just show you.”

The warlock raised an eyebrow, but let Arthur usher him into the room further, before sitting down at the table.

“Okay, go ahead, show me. What was worth making me worry my ass off?” Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Arthur gave him a nervous smile before pulling a small phial out of his satchel and uncorking it.

Merlin tilted his head, frowning deeply. What was he…?

“Merlin, I’m immortal, too,” Arthur told him softly, and Merlin couldn’t help it. He snorted, laughing in obvious disbelief.

“Right, and I’m a god.”

Arthur sighed and hesitated, then raised the phial of liquid to his lips.

“Here goes nothing,” he murmured before downing the contents. Merlin watched, growing more and more confused by his betrothed’s actions.

It was only when the phial slipped from Arthur’s hands and shattered on the ground as his skin began to pale and hands began to tremble that Merlin realized what was happening, and panic filled his body.

“Arthur? Arthur!” Merlin was on his feet in seconds, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders as he began to go limp, the—what Merlin now recognized as—poison taking action too fast for Merlin to think of a solution. He didn’t even know what he took! How could he help?! Arthur knew he was shit at healing magic, which was ironic considering he worked with Gaius for so long! “Arthur! Dammit, what are you doing?! Fuck, what did you do?!?”

Merlin’s heart was pounding and tears were filling his eyes as his breath quickened. “Fuck! Arthur, you bastard!” He snapped, unsure what to do, as Arthur’s body slumped in his arms.

He felt the King stop breathing in his arms and he swore his own heart stopped. Then… There was a gasp. A loud, sharp gasp. Then, a fit of coughs wracked Arthur’s body, his shoulders shaking.

Merlin was frozen, stunned. He… He was… But now he was… He really is—

“Arthur, oh, Arthur what did you do?”

Once he had stopped coughing, and Merlin had walked them over and sat them on the bed, Arthur took a deep breath and smiled stupidly.

“I had the druids show me how to use the cup of life,” he explained in a murmur, “I didn’t want you to be alone, for eternity. Now you won’t have to be.”

Merlin stared in silence at his betrothed for a few moments, shocked speechless. Arthur glanced away, coughing a bit more.

“Remind me, to never take Hemlock again,” he muttered rubbing his throat.

That snapped Merlin right out of his daze and he cuffed Arthur upside the head.

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place! What in the hell were you thinking?!” He demanded to know.

“I was thinking you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you I was immortal!”

“I would’ve if you just told me you used the cup!”

“Oh…”

Merlin let out a high laugh, shaking his head.

“Yes, oh!”

Arthur bit his lip, before looking away sheepishly. “Sorry… I suppose, I was just eager to tell you that you wouldn’t be alone anymore…”

A soft sigh let Merlin’s lips, and he ignored the way his heart flipped. “You’re an idiotic prat, you know? A massive cabbagehead. But… You just gave up your mortality for me… And while part of me hates that you’ll now be subjected to the same pain as I will be when our friends’ times come… I can’t help but feel so…”

“So, what?” Arthur pushed gently, laying back on the bed. Merlin shook his head and laid back beside him.

“I love you… And I can’t believe you love me so much, as to literally give up your mortality for me.”

Arthur smiled and looked over at him, his eyes drooping sleepily (probably tired from dying).

“I’d give up anything for you…”

[ibijau]

firstly, i would like to apologize for the way that i saw the words “any ship” and instantly took them as a challenge to create new, bad ships. secondly, i am suggesting number 7 with lan xichen/wen xu. no, you did not misread that; mr capybara can get along with everyone so well that i’m assigning him an entirely new evil boyfriend. bonus points if you actually find a way to make this work in a canon or pre-canon universe, bc i sure can’t see one!

Holding their hair back as they vomit into the toilet

See, this is the one that got me in trouble. Because actually, that ship isn’t even that bad to me. I’m pretty sure it has been discussed several times on the xisang discord. And so I stupidly commented on tumblr that well, y’all think you’re giving bad ships but it’s not that awful. And boy oh boy, do I regret that now (not really, it’s gonna be fun)

warning for mentions of violence against a corpse, and for vomiting :)

The nausea hits Wen Xu when they pass through Qinghe, and doesn’t leave from that point on. It goes ever stronger as the cart gets closer to the Unclean Realm. If not for the man sitting next to him and throwing him weak smiles, Wen Xu would have jumped on his sword and ran away. This is a terrible, terrible plan, and he should have known better than to let Lan Xichen get plotting, and yet…

And yet, what choice did he have? Wen Xu doesn’t have his father and brother’s blind faith in Qishan Wen’s power. He understands the power of numbers, of good position, of sheer rage too. The instant Lotus Piers burned, he sent a letter to Lan Xichen, begging for his help. A desperate move after what happened with Qingheng-Jun, but Lan Xichen knows it was an accident. Back then too, they had a plan.

Hopefully, this one will work better.

As they fall into the shadows of the Unclean Realm’s high walls, Wen Xu starts fidgeting with the bandages on his face. If too much of his features show, if he is recognised… Nie Mingjue is on the frontlines, his little brother hidden far away in the Cloud Recesses, but Wen Xu’s face is one even lesser Nie cultivator will have seen at conferences. If he is seen, if he is spotted… this isn’t just about him, Lan Xichen too would…

“Calm down,” Lan Xichen whispers, taking his hands and forcing them away from his face. “I am well liked and well trusted here. And it’s only for a day or two, to avoid arousing suspicions. I always stop here when I’m in the area.”

Wen Xu, growing more nervous with every passing moment, grasps one of Lan Xichen’s wrists. Lan Xichen smiles as best as he can, and struggles against that grasp until they’re holding hands instead, their fingers tightly linked together. It feels more comforting that it should. Wen Xu has no faith in his father and brother, but he would follow Lan Xichen to the end of the world if the other man asked him too.

After a last squeeze, Lan Xichen lets go of Wen Xu’s hand and turns his gaze back to the doors of the Unclean Realm. He frowns and narrows his eyes, as if trying to see something, then turns deathly pale.

“Oh no,” he gasps.

That’s all the warning Wen Xu gets before he hears Nie Mingjue’s booming voice coming their way.

“Xichen! What are you doing here?”

Wen Xu shrinks on himself. He wants to take Lan Xichen’s hand again, to have the other man smile at him, look at him. He resists the impulse, fearful of attracting attention on himself, and watches instead as Lan Xichen smiles peacefully at the man who presents such danger to both of them.

“Mingjue-xiong, this is a surprise,” Lan Xichen says, sounding quite delighted to meet his friend. “I thought you’d be on the front.”

“I’ve just returned to do some decorating,” Nie Mingjue announces, leaning on the side of the cart. Wen Xu doesn’t look, but feels his gaze on him. “Who’s that with you, Xichen?”

“The heir of a small sect attached to Gusu Lan by marriage,” Lan Xichen flawlessly lies. “He was captured and wounded, but I freed him and I’m taking him to safety.”

The intensity of Nie Mingjue’s eyes on Wen Xu grows. They’re going to die, Wen Xu is certain of it. All these efforts, and they’re going to die, both of them.

They’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to…

“Well, I’ve got good news for him then!” Nie Mingjue announces smugly. “The war is going well. Help the man sit up, Xichen. I’ve got something to show that will please both of you.”

“Mingjue-xiong, it’s been a long day, I’d rather…”

“It’s on the way in,” Nie Mingjue explains. “Just sit him up so he doesn’t miss it.”

Lan Xichen’s face remains calm, but his hands are shaking as he helps Wen Xu sit up. In turn, Wen Xu doesn’t have to pretend too much when he leans against Lan Xichen’s side. His nausea is still there, stronger than ever. He must stink of fear so badly it’s a surprise that Nie Mingjue can’t smell it, when everyone knows the Nie are more beasts than humans.

As the cart starts moving, Wen Xu wonders what, exactly, he’s supposed to be seeing on his way in. There’s just not much around, and the bandages on his face do limit his field of vision.

Lan Xichen spots it before him.

Lan Xichen whose body turns to stone, and his grip on Wen Xu to iron.

There, right in the middle of the main yard of the Unclean Realm, there’s a high pike with a head on it. A head that Wen Xu knows too well, because it’s one he sees in every mirror, every puddle of water.

Bile hits the back of his throat, and he has to clench his teeth to avoid puking in public.

“We got him trying to retreat during our last battle,” Nie Mingjue explains proudly, mistaking their horrified silence for admiration perhaps. “He begged for his life like a dog and tried to pretend he wasn’t who we thought. Pathetic.”

In spite of the danger, Wen Xu blindly grasps Lan Xichen’s hand, desperately needing to ground himself.

That wasn’t the plan.

The plan, Wen Xu told his cousin a week ago, was for said cousin to disguise as him, mess up a battle, fake his suicide after that dishonour so nobody would look for Wen Xu, and then run back to his family and take them very far away from this war. Wen Xu gave the man gold, letters to guarantee his passage to safety, and placed his wife and children with Wen Qing’s people since nobody would dare to cross her.

Wen Xu’s cousin had just had his first son less than a year ago. Now little Wen Yuan and his sisters are orphans, and their mother will never know what became of her husband.

“Isn’t it a bit morbid?” Lan Xichen asks in a trembling voice.

“He killed your father,” Nie Mingjue reminds him.

And it’s true, of course, but it was an accident. Lan Xichen agreed that it was an accident. They’d had a plan. How were they supposed to guess that Qingheng-Jun, who hadn’t been seen in over a decade, would finally remember he was sect leader? Wen Xu hadn’t meant to kill him, and Lan Xichen had forgiven him, saying his father had likely just seen a chance to end his life without causing more dishonour to their family.

“It was Huaisang’s idea,” Nie Mingjue continues. “Well, he asked me to do that with Wen Ruohan’s head and to keep it there until he returns, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing the full set.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Let’s hope the war is over quickly then. The smell is going to get terrible if that stays here all summer.”

“I’ve put a spell on it to…”

“Mingjue-xiong, I’ve had a really long day,” Lan Xichen interrupts, struggling to maintain his usual polite warmth. “I know we have talked in a while, but I really would like to rest a moment. May we be given a room for the night? And something to eat as well. I am very sorry, but my plan was to leave early tomorrow morning so I can go back to the frontlines quickly once I have delivered this man to safety.”

Nie Mingjue seems surprised by that demand. He grumbles, and offers to have his healers look at Wen Xu, to have his men deliver him back to his sect. Lan Xichen politely refuses all of that, claiming some vague oath to do this in person, and Nie Mingjue gives up.

Wen Ruohan needs armies to be respected and obeyed, while Lan Xichen needs only to smile.

Terrified beyond words, Wen Xu leans heavily against Lan Xichen as they are walked to their room for the night. He doesn’t need to pretend weakness. Every time he looks around and sees a Nie crest, every time he hears Nie Mingjue’s voice, his legs buckle under him.

As soon as the door closes behind them, as soon as he’s alone with Lan Xichen and safely out of view, Wen Xu falls to his knees.

“I’m going to be sick,” he gasps.

Lan Xichen barely has time to put a basin in front of him before Wen Xu starts heaving, and before long his last meal makes a return.

It lasts too long. Even when there’s nothing left to puke, Wen Xu’s body is rocked by dry hiccups that make it near impossible to breathe. He can’t stop thinking of that head on a pike, a head that should have been his.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen whispers, holding his hair out of the way with one hand, rubbing comforting circles on his back with the others. “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would be there and… well. You know Mingjue.”

Wen Xu nods, a nearly hysterical giggle escaping him before he finds that though he’s empty of food, he can still vomit bile.

He knows Mingjue indeed, the man who has sworn he would avenge his father, who has looked at Wen Xu as if he wants to cut him in pieces since the day he became sect leader. Him and that sneaky brother of his have always scared Wen Xu, something for which his brother and father have mocked him sometimes.

Wen Ruohan probably isn’t laughing anymore. Or if he is, if he thinks he’s just rid of the weaker of his two sons at last, that only proud and devoted Wen Chao remains… then he’s a bigger fool than Wen Xu ever thought him to be, and he won’t be missed by his eldest son.

Between Wen Ruohan and Lan Xichen, the choice was always an easy one.

[yikesharringrove]

I both really want to read a conversion camp fic and really fucking DONT lol but I trust you to do it well and not absolutely destroy us so... I am asking for you to write the conversion camp fic please.

Oh, my plan is to absolutely destroy you all with this one.

This is modern bc it wasn’t gonna be but then I wrote a part and it kinda had to be lol

TW: religion, homophobia, transphobia (nd Steve), conversion camp, anxiety, depression, physical abuse, the word r*pe is thrown around, suicidal ideations, basically, it’s a DOOZY

Seriously, this shit gets DARK. I have A LOT of untapped emotions.

But it has a happy ending, don’t worry

-

Steve’s hands were shaking as they dug through his bag.

They had already pulled out the eyeshadow palette he had tried to sneak in, needed something to make himself feel okay in this inevitable Hell.

“Did you receive our guidelines?” They had found the lipstick he had shoved in one of his shoes. “We specifically outlined prohibited items.” He took a shaky breath. “Your perversion is much deeper than anticipated, Mr. Harrington.” He just nodded.

He was shuffled about, led to a cold blank room.

His first meeting with a conversion specialist.

“What is your infatuation with women’s things?” The man’s voice made Steve feel like there was cold water dripping down his back.

“I just like pretty things.”

“Why do you deny your manhood?”

“I don’t.”

“You say that, but you do. Every time you pretend you’re a woman-”

“I don’t pretend I’m a woman. I just like makeup and stuff.” He gave Steve a disgusted look.

“By denying your true self, you have turned your back on God. You have allowed the devil to infiltrate your soul, to convince you that these perversions are okay.” He looked down at the paper in his lap, the forms Steve had been forced to sit and fill out with his parents. “You were not close with your father, were you?”

“Um, no. Not really.”

“So you pushed away your male role model?”

“He pushed me away, more like.” The man pursed his lips.

“A father does not push away his son unless there is something evil within him. A father can always tell when there is something wrong, something disgusting in his offspring.” He stood up, towering over Steve.

“You are disgusting, Steven Harrington. You are perverse and foul. You turn your back on your Creator. But you are not without a savior. You can be saved. Denounce the devil that tempts you to this life. Follow your savior, and He will lead you to safety.” He held out his hand. Steve took a breath, and shook it.

-

Steve’s first day was a fucking nightmare.

He was led to his room, a small room with two bunked beds and no doors. He was told he’d have three roommates, and if they were caught touching one another, the punishment would be painful.

And then it was group therapy.

He sat in a circle with ten of the other boys from the program. They were forced to discuss every attraction they had ever felt to anyone besides women. They were forced to discuss sexual encounters they had had with men, and call themselves disgusting.

And as it was Steve’s turn, and he talked about wearing panties, and fingering himself, and sucking Tommy’s dick, and he felt disgusting.

At dinner he met one of his roommates, and his heart sank.

“Where’d they scrape you up?” The guy was fucking gorgeous.

“Indiana.”

“And you just a homo? Or...?” The guy’s voice trailed off as he looked Steve up and down. “You one a’ them crossdressers, too?” Steve flushed deeply.

“How, how did you know?”

“Because you look like they got to you already. Means they got something on you. Make you feel real bad about yourself.”

“How, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough. Seen plenty a’ boys come and go. Some cured, some just a lost cause.” He was so nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Why, why so long?” He grinned at Steve, sharp and beautiful.

“Because I’m immune, Pretty Boy.” Steve’s breath hitched. The guy licked over his teeth. “Can’t beat the gay outta me if they tried. And they fuckin’ have.”

“But why, why don’t you want to change? I mean, they’re, they’re right.” His blue eyes went cold.

“They got you deep. Damn, you might be the quickest turn around I’ve ever seen.”

“I just, I don’t want to be wrong anymore.” He leaned closer to Steve.

“You have never been wrong.” Steve felt like he was gonna cry.

A firm hand clapped down on Steve’s shoulder.

“William, I hope you’re treating our new guest nicely.” William’s face fell immediately.

“Yes, Father.” Steve looked up to see a priest holding onto him. His hair was greying and neat. His eyes were cold and dead.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take Steven with me.” Steve followed him, eyes downcast, all the way to his office. “Steven, my name is Father Andrew. I’m here to help you.” Steve didn’t like his smile. “We’re going to meet everyday at 8:30 pm for your therapy.”

He pulled out a folder from the bottom drawer of his desk. He placed a photograph in front of Steve with a flourish.

It was porn.

It was fucking gay porn.

He stood in front of Steve, leaning against the desk, off to the side of the image.

“Tell me what you see here.” One of the men had dark hair. He was being taken from behind by the other man, his blond hair and bright eyes stirred something in Steve.

“Two men. Having sex.”

He didn’t see Father Andrew’s hand, just heard the crack of it against his cheek.

His eyes watered, his cheek burned.

“What do you see?”

“Two perverts.”

“What are they doing?”

“Defiling one another.”

“Good, Steven. You’re learning.”

He placed another photograph down. This time, the man being fucked had a full face of makeup, tears making the dark eyeliner run as he was on his back, hands cuffed to the bed. The man fucking him was smirking at the camera, tongue between his teeth.

“How does this make you feel?”

“Disgusted.”

“Why?”

“That they, they would touch each other like that.”

“Do you have fantasies like this? Of being tied up by another man? Raped by another man?”

And the answer, the answer was technically yes. He had plenty of fantasies of being tied up, taken rough, taken dirty.

But rape. That’s a strong fucking word.

“No, Father.” Another crack. Another slap.

“Lying is a sin, Steven.”

“I, I don’t want to be, to be raped.” Another slap.

“Lying is a sin, Steven.”

“Yes, yes Father. I have had fantasies.”

“These are not fantasies, these are perversions planted in your mind by demons, by the devil trying to pull you away from Christ our Lord. Do not let these demons lead you astray.”

He pulled out another picture.

Steve’s heart fucking stopped.

It was a picture of himself. A nude he had taken for Tommy.

He was wearing pretty lingerie, pouting to the camera. He remembers taking it, remembers putting on his makeup, posing over and over until he took one he liked. They must’ve gone through his phone, through his texts.

“Why do you dress like a woman?”

“Be-because I’m disgusting.” And the thing is, Steve had been told plenty of times that day that he’s disgusting, and he had begun to believe it.

“Good, Steven. You are disgusting. Do you believe you’re a woman?”

“No, Father.”

“Then why have you been experimenting with women’s things?”

“I believed I wasn’t a man.”

“And are you a man?”

“Yes, Father.”

“God made you a man.”

“Yes, Father.” Steve still didn’t like his smile.

He switched the image.

And it was another one of his nudes. This time he was in a skirt, kneeling with his back to the mirror, one hand spreading his cheeks, showing off the silver plug in his ass.

He even remembers the text he had sent with it.

Tommy had been studying for a test, so Steve sent that picture and said but im lonely :( and Tommy had replied I’ll be there in twenty.

“Why do you have an obsession with your anus?” Steve could feel the blood drain from his face.

“I, uh, it feels good.” Another slap.

“How does spitting in the face of your Heavenly Father feel good, Steven? Sodomy does not feel good.” Another slap. Steve’s face felt like it was on fire.

“I’m sorry, Father. I am vile, and disgusting.” Steve was sobbing, felt so fucking pathetic, trying to look anywhere but the printed image of himself.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. I expect you here tomorrow after dinner.”

Steve fucking ran back to his room.

The other boys were asleep. He climbed into the top bunk, curling into himself.

He felt disgusting, he felt foul and wrong and bad.

He tried to stifle his sobs into his pillow, the scratchy case muffling his panic attack.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quiet.” There was a sigh, breath fanning over his face.

And then the boy from earlier was swinging himself into bed with him, curling against him.

“They said-”

“I know exactly what times they patrol. I’ll leave your bed before then.” He sighed. “First night’s always the hardest. You just gotta get through. Tell them what they wanna hear, but remember that they’re fucking wrong. You are valid, and real. Being gay is not disgusting.”

Steve curled into him, letting himself be comforted.

“Thank you. Thank you, William.”

“Oh, Christ. Call me Billy.”

“Thank you, Billy.”

-

As time passed, it was easy to retreat into himself.

He met with Father Andrew every night, got slapped and hit when his answers weren’t condemning enough.

But each night, Billy would crawl into bed with him, would hold him when he broke down.

The kiss was inevitable.

It happened after Steve had an extreme day, the beating he received when he had admitted to being nonbinary, that he had asked his friends at home to use other pronouns.

And Billy had said you’re perfect the way you are, Sweet Thing.

And Steve kissed him.

And Steve wanted to die.

-

“Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned.” Steve took a shaking breath.

He was kneeling in the small confessional.

They had Mass every three days, and confession each Friday.

“It has been one week since my last confession.” He took a deep breath. He needed to get this of his chest, needed to get the punishment he deserved. “Father, I, the feelings have not gone away. There is, there’s a boy, and I, I love him. And I try not to. I try not to look at him, to remember the devil is leading me astray. But Father, I think about him. I think about him often.”

“This is an extremely grievous sin, my son.”

“I know, Father. Please help me. I want to, I want to be pure. To be free of this sin, this temptation.”

“I offer, as penance for your sins, to pray a rosary for each time you have had an evil thought about your fellow man this week. As you ponder the Mysteries of the rosary, consider how God created you, how Jesus died for you, and you wipe your feet on their love.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And our meeting will be arduous tonight, Steven.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Now please, recite the Act of Contrition.”

Steve’s hands shook as he recited the prayer, finishing his confession with Father Andrew.

-

“Now, Steven. You discussed having impure thoughts today.”

Steve’s knees ached from praying the rosary so many times earlier today. He hadn’t eaten, had gone straight to the Chapel after his confession.

He wanted to pray, to cleanse himself.

And he didn’t want to risk seeing Billy.

“Yes, Father.”

“And you mentioned that you love another boy.”

“The devil is trying to make me think it’s love.” Father Andrew smiled his empty smile down at Steve.

“That’s right Steven. Because love cannot exist between two men. Love is a beautiful thing created and given to us by The Lord God.” Father Andrew leaned over Steve, made him shrink back in his seat. “Which is why you are unlovable as you are. You are foul and vile. You may be loved if you change.”

He grabbed Steve’s hair, holding his head still as he slapped his face.

And Steve let him.

He was foul, he was vile.

He deserved the pain.

-

Two months.

That’s how long it took Steve to “graduate”.

He left the facility in clean khakis, a nice sweater his mother had sent him to wear home.

Billy had left a week and a half prior.

He was deemed a lost cause.

Steve’s mother was there to pick him up, hugged him tight and told him how happy she was that he was fixed.

He was quiet as they drove, watching the shadows the summer sun cast on the side of the plain flat road.

“Your father will be pleased. You’ve made such wonderful progress. Free of all those delusions.”

They passed Tommy’s house.

He felt sick.

-

The first thing Steve did when he got home was destroy all his make up.

He took everything feminine from it’s hiding spot in the back of his closet.

He scraped out the eye shadow, smeared the lipstick all over his dresses.

He cut up his lingerie, shoved everything into a black garbage back, driving into town to toss it in the dumpster behind the gas station.

He wanted it away, he wanted it gone. He wanted to be pure.

-

His hands shook as he zipped up the suitcase.

He didn’t have much in there, was planning on taking enough to get him through a little while, then maybe buying some things, some pretty things.

His parents were asleep downstairs, he was planning on being long gone by the time they woke up.

He put on his backpack, taking his wallet and tiptoeing down the stairs, his shoes in his hand.

He had a plan, would drive to the bus station, leave his car there.

Someone will find it, and at that point, he’ll be long gone.

He bought a bus ticket to Chicago, paid in cash and gave a fake name.

He was fucking out of here.

They were fucking out of here.

-

“As I live, and fucking breathe.”

Steve startled as a hand came down on their shoulder.

They startled again when they turned around, came face to face with a ghost from the past.

“B-Billy?” Billy’s hair was longer than it had been at the camp. His smile was lazier, his eyes brighter. Steve’s gut gave an excited little flutter as he looked them up and down.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous, Pretty Boy.” Steve flushed, adjusting their dress. It was new.

It had been three years since the camp. One year of Steve living in pain, until they packed their shit, and moved to the Golden Coast. They left in the middle of the fucking night, ran away like a scared child, never looking back.

And here was the love of their goddamn life, in some hole in the wall coffee shop in San Fransisco.

“It’s uh, it’s not Pretty Boy, anymore.” Billy’s grin got even wider.

“Thank fuck.” He swung himself into the seat across from Steve’s, upsetting some of the papers they were working on.

“What happened to you, Billy?” Billy’s smiled slipped, just a little.

“My dad was tired a’ paying for that joint if I wasn’t getting better. So he said if I wasn’t fixed in like, a month, he would stop paying, and I would be kicked out. Stayed true to his word. Haven’t seen the bastard since.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Getting kicked outta that place is the best fuckin’ thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I graduated. Went through the whole thing. Took me a year to realize how fucked up it was.”

“Jesus. They got you deep.” Steve shrugged.

“I’m okay now.”

“Yeah? What’re you doin’?”

“Goin’ to school. Gonna be a counselor. Hopefully work in an elementary school, or something.” Billy’s eyes were bright.

“That’s amazing. Gonna tell all the little queer kids that they’re valid and all that?”

“That’s the goal.” Billy grinned. “What are you doing now? You with anyone?”

“I own a bar, actually. Kind of a dive, but it’s a good time.” He looked at Steve through his lashes. “You should come by, sometime. Be good to see you.”

“I’d like to see you too.”

“And to answer your question, I’m not with anyone. Not right now.” He smirked. “But I could be.” He leaned over the table, drawing one finger down Steve’s hand. “I like seeing you happy. Feel like I only ever saw you cryin’ in that joint.”

“Well, spent a lot of time crying there.”

“For good reason.” Billy took their hand. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Y’know I told Father Andrew I was in love with you. Got beat black and fuckin’ blue for it.” Billy’s face was grave.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Wanted to be fixed. Took me a year to realize I didn’t need that.”

“You stop lovin’ me in that year?”

“Not even in the two after that.” Billy took a shaking breath.

“You know, I uh, I love you too. Always did. It broke my fucking heart to leave you in that place. Was gonna wake you up that night, get you to run away with me. But they took me out, uh, forcibly.”

“Bet you put up a real good fight.”

“Broke Father Ryan’s nose.” Steve let out a burst of laughter, clapping one hand over their mouth.

“I was wondering about that. He had a splint for like, a month.”

“Yeah, well, bastard kept tryin’ to exorcise me. Headbutted him right in the face.”

“Good for you, Bill. Sometimes I wish I could light the whole place on fire.”

“Me too.” Billy took their hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I gotta head, but I wanna see you. Soon. Later today, if you can.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just doing some homework, but I could stop by the bar tonight? I don’t have shit to do tomorrow.”

“Lemme pick you up. We can go to dinner before I take you to the bar.” They smiled softly at him.

“I’d like that.”

[terresdebrume]

The Witcher - Favorite Reads Masterpost

So, the previous one was getting really super long and Tumblr refused to save the latest update three times, which I’m taking to mean I’ve reached some kind of length limit. In view of that, and with a poke to @nyliekeo​ who asked to be tagged, here’s the second volume of my Witcher fic-reading adventures!

(Pretty much all Geraskier, because I’m only a multishipper in the sense that I have many ships across many fandoms.)

Volume 1

Last updated: April 10th, 2020.

Non geraskier fic

Her Current Is Pulling You Closer - TheMarvellousMadMadamMim

Specs: 1 900 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Eist/Calanthe - Swimming, shameless flirting

Summary: After nearly three years of marriage, Eist Tuirseach realizes there are still things to learn about his wife.

Becoming Water - Orockthro

Specs: 3 456 words - Mature - Trans woman!Geralt, curses, happy ending

Summary:  When Geralt was a child his mother kissed his forehead, wove flowers in his hair, and let him dance around the campsite they shared with the other druids. He loved dancing, the way his body moved and flowed; he was like water.

And then she left him in the road, spilled water on his feet, and a faint trail of dust where she and the cart were no longer. And a man came and took Geralt and made him into something new.

“Were you short? Waifish? Did those witcher mutagens turn you into, you know, the hulking sexy man that you are? At least they gave you such male perfection, what with the stubble and the jaw and the--”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

(Or, Geralt is cursed with a female body during their travels. Only it's not so much a curse as a gift she didn't know she so desperately desired until now.)

of cockroaches and men - Potrix

Specs: 1 442 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Yennefer & Jaskier, Getting to know each other, BAMF Jaskier

Summary: As if being stuck waiting for her supplier in this sorry excuse for a town full of narrow-minded, superstitious simpletons isn't already frustrating enough, the first familiar face Yennefer spots when she walks into the grubby tavern is that of her least favourite bard.

Or, alternatively; sometimes you misjudge people, but there's nothing some badassery and booze won't fix.

all cooped up - alittlebitmaybe

Specs: 4 205 words - Mature - Polyamory, Pandemic 2020, Non-explicit sex, instigator Yen

Summary: Geralt's old university roommate, Jaskier, needs a place to ride out the pandemic. Geralt and Yennefer conveniently have a couch and Geralt, inconveniently, has a crush.

Cover it over and write it out - TheArcheologist

Specs: 3 214 words - Mature - Dyslexia, implied child abuse, Dandelion is a noble

Summary: There is something Geralt has noticed, after traveling so long with Jaskier. It is nothing major, nothing world ending or even warranting bringing up, but it is there, nonetheless, a funny little habit he can’t unsee.

“You’re better at this stuff than me, Geralt, you read it.”

Geraskier fics

pride - Besully (Briar_Elwood)

Specs: 737 words - Teen & Up - Trans Jaskier

Summary: Geraskier Week Dealer's Choice

He only manages to get the shirt untucked from the bard’s trousers when Jaskier’s smile disappears, and he scrambles backwards, holding the edges of his shirt down.

Do It Again - thisgirlsays22

Specs: 6 771 words - Explicit - Time Loop

Summary: By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

Interlude; The End of All Things - TabbyCat33098

Specs: 3 496 words - General Audiences - Growing Old Together

Summary: Geralt realizes Jaskier is growing old and tries his best to return the rest of Jaskier's life to him. If only Jaskier would cooperate and take it.

//

How much longer will Jaskier be content with weathering the elements and contending with the uncertainty of mercenary work? How long until Jaskier realizes that in devoting himself to crafting a legacy for Geralt, he has forgotten to create a legacy of his own?

After all, he does not have a wife or children, for their nomadic lifestyle is conducive to neither. He has no home to return to between stints with Geralt, whether a sprawling mansion vaunting his wealth or a comfortable cottage replete with souvenirs from his varied exploits. How many experiences has Jaskier sacrificed because some contract or irate nobleman drew them elsewhere? How many untouched fields of snow has Jaskier never seen; how many harvests at Novigrad has he yearned to celebrate from halfway across the Continent—

“You’re staring,” Jaskier points out.

“You wanted to go to the Kovirian coast,” Geralt responds. 

a tapestry of scars - splendidlyimperfect

Specs: 7 688 words - Mature - Modern AU, Birpolar disorder, self harm, references to previous suicide attempt and car accident.

Summary: Jaskier comes into Geralt's life on a sunny afternoon in May - wide smiles and baby blue eyes; breathtaking stories and half-written song lyrics. He's mesmerizing and full of life, and Geralt can't look away. But sunshine doesn't last forever, and when Jaskier disappears, Geralt learns that beautiful things have dark and broken pieces, and even damaged people can help fix them.

Summer Mornings - The UnamazingTrashKing

Specs: 3 241 words - Mature - Fluff

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are sort of a couple. They definitely wake up together and talk about spending the rest of their lives together.

An Incomplete Happiness - BlossomsintheMist

Specs: 22 497 words - Mature - Serious injuries, injuries recovery, unresolved sexual tension, unresolved romantic tension

Summary: Jaskier is traveling with Geralt when a hunt goes badly wrong and Geralt ends up injured.  Geralt soon realizes that the bard can take care of Geralt better than he'd realized, in his own way.

Hide Behind The Mound of Dead Bards - Bones (Doctorbones)

Specs: 17 296 words - Explicit - Temporary character death, Graphic depiction of violence

Summary: Jaskier is really bad at two things: shutting up and staying dead. Luckily, he can do both at the same time...for a while.

faith in transience - unconscious

Specs: 12 532 words - Explicit - Monster of the week, Service top Jaskier, attempted mind control.

Summary:  “I learn stuff about you to enrich my songs, thanks very much.”  Geralt starts.

“Like what?”

Jaskier strums a chord. “Plenty of things. You always ask the contractor if they want the head or not instead of just showing up with it, because you don’t want to shock people. You eat normal amounts of food when eating in public, instead of your usual awe-inducing giant amount. You sleep more when you’re hurt, but that’s the only way I’d ever know. You’re a bit weird about your potions and you count them a lot.” He glances up and grins. “Shall I continue?”

A handful of contracts go sideways. Recovering is easier with Jaskier there.

when midnight breaks their sleep - SummerFrost

Specs: 16 736 words - Mature - Modern setting, polyamory, polyamory negociation

Summary:   The first Snapchat that anyone ever sends Geralt is a picture of his own irritated face.

shrike_princess: can u believe this dumbass finally got a snapchat bc a cute boy asked him nicely

"It wasn't even that nicely," Geralt says flatly.

AKA: The one where Geralt is a bartender and Jaskier sings karaoke.

he, who i love - kinneyb

Specs: 1 279 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Established relationship

Summary: Jaskier looked forward to these nights the most; he was playing in a rundown tavern in a small town near the coast, coins gathered at his feet, knowing that at any moment Geralt would come bursting through the door.

He spun on his heels, strumming his lute with nimble fingers, the mark of a practiced player.

Jaskier had thought he’d reached his peak when he was younger. He had been proven wrong, of course, practice truly did make perfect. He was getting more attention than ever, and only half of it probably had to do with his new songs, all depicting the Witcher’s love story with a bard of the human variety.

He never directly mentioned himself, but the people had made the connection fairly easily, anyway.

Near the Coast - IantoPace

Specs: 2 164 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Dresses

Summary: Geralt finds out some of the feminine things Jaskier likes. This is inspired by the images of Joey Batey & Madeleine Hyland in the woods wearing each other's clothes.

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later - Ladivviniatravestia

Specs: 3 427 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Defining the relationship

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier fuck, then try to define their relationship.  Too bad Geralt has no idea what he really wants and Jaskier has been hiding something.

parry, riposte - plutoandpersephone

Specs: 5 230 words - Explicit - Established relationship, competence kink, power dynamics

Summary: "How about it?"

Geralt looks at Jaskier like he’s just started to speak in some long lost, foreign tongue.

"You want to take me on in the sword ring?"

-

Jaskier challenges Geralt to a bout in the fencing ring. They both get more than they bargained for.

The Coast - NinjaSniperKitty

Specs: 1 856 words - General Audiences - Established relationship, overly protective boyfriend!Geralt

Summary: Geralt takes Jaskier up on his offer to get away and go to the coast for a while. While Geralt sees danger hiding everywhere along the coast, Jaskier hasn't been to the sea in years and only sees a good time!

Sweet, Silky, Soft, and Shiny - Girl_in_Red_Crossing

Specs: 3 251 words - Mature - Inappropriate use of candy

Summary: Just a couple of bros, sucking on sweet things... sharing silky things... lying in soft beds together... (kissing)...

The Witcher Wolf 2: Geralt’s POV - im_fairly_witty.

Specs: 15 338 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Animal transformation

Summary: It's been two weeks since Geralt drove Jaskier away from him on that mountain top and Geralt's been doing his best not to think about it by accepting every contract he comes across. But when a job goes badly he find himself cursed into the form of an injured wolf and is then saved by none other than Jaskier himself, who has no idea that the animal he's taken under his wing is his own witcher. Geralt must now try to alert Jaskier to his real situation and adjust to his new life traveling with the bard, learning several hard but very much needed lessons along the way.

Shadowplay - sospes

Specs: 26 539 words - Mature - BAMF!Jaskier, Espionnage

Summary: Geralt returns to Oxenfurt on a bright May morning to find flowers laid outside Jaskier's rooms and a fresh grave in the cemetery.

Except, as Geralt is about to learn, in Jaskier's world things are never quite what they seem.

An Old Man’s Tale - NotebooksandLaptops

Specs: 1 448 words - General Audiences - External POV, Old age

Summary: At the edge of the village, in a house surrounded by wild-flowers and weeds - re-built from its former crumbling foundations – there lived the Old Man. He’d earnt the rights for the capital O, capital M off of the rest of the villagers barely a week after he’d moved into their humble world. For he had not grown up here, like everyone else did. Yet he settled and settled as if he had always been there. He wandered the cliffsides, the beaches, the streets. He strung shells together and gifted them to the ladies of the village with a wink that betrayed the charming young man he once must have been. He bought the little ceramic pots Alicja sold on the market, and he filled them with weeds as if the weeds were flowers worth showcasing. And – most importantly – he sang.

-///-

Or, Jaskier settles in a costal village towards the end of his life.

For The Joy Of It - vvitchering (Witchering)

Specs: 848 words - Teen & Up Audiences - self esteem issues, body image

Summary: After spending years on The Path together, Jaskier and Geralt finally settle down. Jaskier notices one day that his new sedentary lifestyle has changed him in ways he fears Geralt won't accept.

The Silence Between Heartbeats - anarchycox

Specs: 7 969 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Jskier knows Geralt better than anyone

Summary: Geralt faced off with a sorceress, only instead of her magic killing him, it stole his voice. But this should be an easy fix, he knew many women who could heal this. But that would mean anyone noticing something wrong. He knew he was quiet, but seriously, did no one wonder why he wasn't saying a single thing? Months he traveled silent, no one noticing and it was driving him mad.

Until he runs into Jaskier, who notices immediately that something is wrong.Because of course it is Jaskier.

Who else in the end would it be, who properly saw the White Wolf?

tailored - jeannie_tangerine

Specs: 4 874 words - Explicit - Geralt has a kink and Jaskier is absolutely into it.

Summary: in which Jaskier finds out that Geralt has a kink and is more than glad to indulge it.

oh darling please be mine - kickassfu

Specs: 749 words - General Audiences - Introspective, fluff

Summary: Geralt’s head turns to him just as he’s jumping into his arms. Obviously, he catches Jaskier, in his very strong, very big arms. Still probably processing what’s happening, Geralt’s body is tense, unmoving. Jaskier doesn’t care.

New Monsters Stories - Kathkin

Specs: 20 209 words - Explicit - Urban fantasy, mutual pining

Summary:  “So do you have a name?”

“Yeah.” The man who had saved his life less than an hour ago – the white-haired, absurdly buff, weirdly sexy man Jaskier might have called taciturn if he was feeling charitable and surly if he was feeling less so – dug into his second burger.

Jaskier waited. “Are… you going to tell me what it is?”

The man paused mid-bite, and looked at him reproachfully as if to say how dare you. How dare you interrupt me. Can’t you see I’m enjoying my cheeseburger. Can’t you see this cheeseburger is the most important thing in my life right at the moment. He swallowed, and said, “Geralt.”

It turns out almost getting eaten by a werewolf can make your whole life go careening off in a new, terrifying, wondrous, artistically flourishing direction. Who knew?

Professor Pankratz - martistarfighter

Specs: 1 147 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Established relationship

Sumary:  “Come teach my class with me tomorrow.” He whispers in the witcher’s ear. He’s sporting a neatly trimmed beard these days, and it tickles Geralt’s neck in the most tempting way.

Geralt chuckles dryly, but the lack of an immediate quip tells him that Jaskier is serious. It’s a little scary how often they can read their minds by now.

“Don’t think so. You’re the teacher, Jask. I’ve got nothing to tell them.”

“But you’re the reason I’m still alive and teaching in the first place. Besides, you can just sit there, look pretty and answer some questions. My students have heard a lot about you, they’ll adore you.”

As someone pointed out, there's too much 'witcher watching out for his idiot' and not enough 'the witcher is a himbo who loves his college educated bard husband, who is qualified to teach' content out there. So I'm fixing it with a self-indulgent ficlet!

and i plan to be forgotten when i’m gone (yes, i’ll be leaving in the fall) - Stockholm_Syndrome

Specs: 18 083 words - Mature - Discussion of assisted suicide, discussion of suicide, depression, curse, no MCD

Summary: “That was more emotional than I expected.” He finally said “I didn’t think I’d have time to share this with you, and I.” Jaskier interrupted himself, as if unsure if he should continue. “I suppose I didn’t think it would upset you so.”

“Jaskier” Geralt growled, not able to express how ludicrous that idea was.

“Yes, I suppose I was wrong there.” Jaskier replied with a helpless shrug.

---- Or, Jaskier is cursed to turn into a monster. He doesn't think this is important information to mention.

Chopsticks - thisgirlsays22

Specs: 12 175 words - Explicit - Piano teacher!Jaskier, friends to lovers, modern setting

Summary: “Yennefer sent me a check for eight lessons for you,” Jaskier said the following weekend, wearing a beige button-down with--

“Does your shirt have owls on it?” Geralt asked, caught somewhere between amusement and horror.

Jaskier looked down and tugged on the front of his shirt as if he had to remind himself what was on it. He beamed at Geralt. “Yeah! Do you like it?”

“Not particularly.”

The smile swiftly disappeared.

“It’s not terrible,” he amended, stepping back to let Jaskier inside the apartment. Then Jaskier’s initial words sank in. “Wait. Yen did what?”

Hanging up on Yennefer was always a mistake.

what’s in a (pet) name? - janie_tangerine

Specs: 1 415 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, pet names

Summary:  "So," he clears his throat one evening, having just rinsed Geralt's now clean, soft white hair, and damn how he wishes the man would just take care of it somewhat decently, "I was wondering."

"What?" Geralt says after he doesn't go on for a bit. It didn't sound particularly annoyed. Right on.

"This is a very broad question, but I was just curious, no need to answer if you don't want to -" Jaskier starts, having learned that giving the man a way out is always a good bet.

"Just get on with it, won't you?"

Jaskier clears his throat, leans down, puts his elbows on the rim of the tub. "How do you feel about pet names?"

Or: in which Jaskier has a question for Geralt. It doesn't get answered the way he had assumed.

As Long As You Were Mine For A Little While - whisperedstories

Specs: 12 815 words - Explicit - Friends with benefits, mutual pining

Summary: It starts with Jaskier offering a helping hand when Geralt needs to let off some steam. The thing is, Jaskier likes taking care of Geralt—however he can—and Geralt lets him, so he just keeps doing it.

And as long as they never talk about how he's in love with Geralt, they're both happy with the arrangement, right? Right.

Of Debt and Debtors - sp_oops

Specs: 5 136 words - Explicit - Semi-public sex

Summary: Two bros, chillin' in a ta-vern, five feet apart ‘cause they—fuck, they really missed each other, not that Geralt will ever admit it—and anyway, in a minute here, they're gonna have to get closer than they ever thought possible. (Or, sometime after Episode 6, they meet again, Jaskier’s in trouble again, and Geralt saves them. Again.)

This One I Shall Choose - DorkMagician

Specs: 3 751 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Quiet pining, the exact moment Geralt falls in love

Summary: Geralt falls in the river fishing for a djinn and winds up soaked. Jaskier sees the opportunity to do as his mother told him a long time ago and takes the first step when he offers Geralt his handkerchief.

Skin Deep - Sospes

Specs: 8 935 words- Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, getting together, non consensual tattooing, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced childhood abuse

Summary: “What’s that?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier blinks. “It’s a tattoo,” he says. “Have you never seen a tattoo before, Geralt?”

Geralt fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I know it’s a tattoo,” he says. “What’s it a tattoo of?”

They say there are 5 ways to show your love (and I don’t know any of them) - Mayathelittlebee

Specs: 5 989 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, humor

Summary: May be if Geralt stopped being so dramatic for a moment he'd finally realize that loving Jaskier is not as hard as he thinks.

I don’t mind if I’m with you - janie_tangerine

Specs: 11 152 words - Explicit - In which Jaskier has to quelle his murder instincts concerning how much Geralt’s life sucks

Summary: or: five times plus one in which Jaskier finds out that Geralt is missing on good life experiences and promptly sees to fix it.

Fill Me Up - Mysticmajestic

Specs: 402 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Romance

Summary: Geralt only knows how to give, and give, until he's empty. What is he to do with Jaskier, who only wants to give back to him?

Little Things - QueenForADay

Specs: 3 315 words - General Audiences - Domestic fluff, Ciri ships it

Summary: In the first few months of knowing the Witcher, he experienced first-hand how shut-off Geralt could be with the world around him and those within it.

At some point, and he can’t pinpoint where, that shroud started to slip away. He saw how much Geralt could, and does, actually care. It’s as fierce as the way he fights.

They spend a great deal of time watching each other; when they finally fell into a bed together, they spent most of their nights learning what the other liked, mapping the plains of skin and muscle underneath the other.

But it’s the other things, the little things, that Jaskier thinks about the most.

O, Empathy - almostnectarine

Specs: 32 624 words - Mature - Body swap, friends to lovers, questfic

Summary: “How did you manage,” asked Geralt, with infinite patience and only a desire to know the facts, and not at all a little meanhearted glee, “to insult a sorcerer while his tongue was down your throat?”

“Don’t make me recount the entire sordid affair, Geralt,” said Jaskier, with a surprising note of desperation breaking through his gruff monotone. “I’m already having a rather shit day and all I’ve done so far is wake up.”

“In my body,” said Geralt.

“Yes,” said Jaskier, with the insolent cadence that was unmistakably Jaskier’s, but in Geralt’s voice, emerging from Geralt’s face and frame.

“And I’ve got yours,” said Geralt, from Jaskier’s.

and for that love to be with men - sebviathan

Specs: 6 734 words -Mature - Emotional constipation, self discovery, self acceptance, geralt is a whole ass gay man who doesn’t know what being gay is

Summary: Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it—living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor I would keep falling.

The enormity of Geralt's desire disgusts him.

at last, at last, at last, oh I thought you’d never ask - elegantwings

Specs: 15 040 words - Explicit - Arranged marriage, slow burn, trans!Jaskier, in this house we love Yennefer of Vengerberg

Summary: Geralt is given firm instructions from Vesemir: He is to get married to a Redanian noblewoman in the hopes of improving relations between witchers and the rest of the world. Once the ceremony is over, he plans to drop his new spouse off at their new home and carry on with his life as he always has. Little does he know, his future wife is not a woman, and not so easily left behind. He's not really sure he'd like to get rid of Jaskier, either. Over the next several years, they learn to navigate their new relationship, first while Jaskier completes his degree, and then when Jaskier insists on accompanying him on the road. And no matter what anyone else has to say about it, Geralt is absolutely not in love with his husband.

it’s what my heart just yearns to say - chasing_the_sterek

Specs: 1 071 words - Teen & Up - Slice of life, Jaskier: what if I found a way to make Geralt admit when he needs things

Summary: "If you could have one blessing," Jaskier says, eyes lit green by the fire between them, "What would it be?"

Geralt looks at him. The whetstone is smooth and friction-warm in his palm, edges rounded from use. It's been with him for a long time: almost four years.

Jaskier has been with him for even longer, but he's never done this. Geralt squints at him, but only thing different to this morning is the yellow firelight changing the colour his eyes appear.

"What," he says.

not a goodbye, a thank you - Potrix

Specs: 2 915 words - Mature - Graphic depiction of illness, near death experience, talk about death, found family

Summary: Somewhere further in the courtyard, Lambert yells out a colourful curse while Ciri cackles maniacally. Eskel is taunting the former through his laughter, and Vesemir’s voice joins in with barked commands and corrections once the clang of steel against steel continues. Somewhere above them, on one of the balconies overlooking the yard, Geralt can hear the scratch of quill against parchment as Yennefer works on her correspondence, interrupted every now and again by the tapping of nails against an inkpot.

He realises what’s wrong an instant before everyone else grows suddenly, eerily still; Jaskier is quiet.

After Summers of Fasting (I Feel Hunger At Last) - Artemis_Unbound

Specs: 3 793 words - Teen & Up Audiences - A six pack you can see is not a good thing, Jaskier tricks Geralt into Not Being Starving anymore, Love confessions

Summary: Defined six-pack abs are a sign that someone has been starving and dehydrating themselves, not a sign of incredible strength. It's just not healthy.

Jaskier sees Geralt shirtless for the first time, sees all that defined musculature, and is Horrified. He's slept with enough warriors and soldiers to know what that means. And he decides, this stops now.

Tunes Without Words - foxy_mulder

Specs: 22 021 words - Mature - Self-esteem issues, past abuse, miscommunications, misunderstandings

Summary: The plan is this:

He will note all the things that annoy Geralt, and he will stop doing them, and then Geralt will want him around. It will work.

It has to work, because Jaskier cannot be left behind.

The Path Not Taken - sospes

Specs: 40 149 words - Mature - Extraordinarily bad misunderstanding, Idiots in love, Explicit sexual content

Summary: Jaskier comes across an injured witcher in a backwoods town, months after the events of the dragon hunt. It all just sort of escalates from there.

.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Drop the Evie essay you wrote

okay so first of all it wasn’t really an essay the way some of my ramblings are, more like just me writing down all of my thoughts in a vaguely coherent manner bc my brain was running too fast to really organize it 

and second of all, just to be on the safe side, these are the potential trigger warnings that I would give for the essay — I don’t know if they all actually come up or not, but better safe than sorry, so proceed with caution!

Potential TWs: being outed, parental neglect, character death (canon), suicide attempts (semi-canon), eating disorders, lots of mental health issues, and lots of general trauma and feelings of never being good enough, and canon typical references to drinking/drugs/partying/etc

so just like a fun fact, Evie’s vitamin water of choice is zero sugar strawberry lemonade and yes i spent too long reading reviews on different flavours all because gossip girl did an entire product placement episode

anyways now onto real thoughts let’s go lesbians let’s go

so okay evie has a... very negative experience with Lily’s various boyfriends and husbands.  When Evie was younger she was always hopeful that this time would be different, that they’d be a family, that her mom would actually stick around, and every single time she’s been let down and left heartbroken.  When her mom starts dating Bart, Evie is very against it but she just can’t be bothered to even try to talk to Lily — Lily will date him, maybe get married, play house, abandon her children, then get divorced, and the cycle will repeat, and Lily will never give a shit about how her children feel about it.  Bart is just the latest rich man for Lily to set her sights on.  Given the overall shittiness of most of Lily’s exes, Evie had figured she would be a lot more vocally against Lily dating again, but Bart... 

Bart himself may terrify Evie, but Evie’s unwavering faith that Chuck will always protect her outweighs that fear, and Evie has long since given up on her mom caring about her opinions so she just takes comfort in the fact that Chuck will be there and tries to just ignore the rest — and the fact that Bart is pretty much always away does help with that.  That being said, she was very distraught when Bart spends season 1 christmas with them, but then Bart’s “present” for her was flying Chuck home for a few days because Lily mentioned that Eric was teasing Evie about being excited about having Chuck as a brother, and he's trying to semi-win over the kids (aka bribe them into accepting him as Lily’s fiancé)

Evie speaks several languages!  She started learning French and Spanish at a very young age, and then picked more up from Lily’s various husbands.  She’s not fluent in all of them but she can hold conversations in eight languages — and four of them were from Lily’s boyfriends (and italian was half pieced together from French and Spanish), and she just keeps learning more because she tries to keep herself too busy to think at any given moment

Rufus is her favourite step-dad by far, but Chuck is her favourite step-sibling (and second favourite sibling, after Eric).  That being said, Bart was surprisingly decent to her because even he quickly figured out that Evie has the innate ability to get Chuck to do basically anything, and he wanted her on his side, only he underestimated how much Evie hates him for treating Chuck like shit — as she says in 2x07, “if you want us to be a family, you should learn how to be a dad”

Evie has a bit of a thing for stealing coats lmao — it’s not unusual to find her stealing Chuck, Eric, Theo, or even Nate’s jackets when she gets cold or starts feeling particularly self conscious.  At the housewarming party she actually gets to bothered by all the media watching her constantly that Chuck goes and gets her one of his blazers to replace the cropped one she was wearing, and she immediately feels a bit more at east

Evie is a jock like it’s understated but she’s on multiple sports teams at school and plays outside of school too — she’s also in dance classes several times a week, along with private vocal lessons, and being part of every theatre production at Constance Billard (musicals and plays), and is on the yearbook committee.  Basically, Evie needs a fucking nap, and with a lot of pushing from Chuck and Eric and Theo (to balance out Blair “do absolutely everything in the name of Yale” Waldorf) she does eventually ease up on her extra-curriculars

She holds far too much power in the Constance-St Jude hierarchy.  She’s a freshman, but it’s well known that Evie is completely untouchable.  Some people (cough Jenny) might try to cross Blair, but no one is stupid enough to go after Evie — she’s not just Blair’s protégée, she’s also under Chuck’s protection.  And when Jenny does try to cross her in season 3 (physical and emotional bullshit, public humiliation, telling the entire school she’d tried to kill herself and had been at Ostroff not “in florida”), well... she learns that even being family won’t stop her entire life from being destroyed

Speaking of Jenny... that’s a very messy relationship — I want to like Jenny, I really do, but I just... don’t so far.  They’re a very sweet relationship early on, neither of them had dated before and they were just really smitten with each other and things were good.  There were definitely some issues because of the Jenny-Blair war, but they’d been okay — or so Evie had thought, until Jenny dumped her by means of introducing everyone to her new boyfriend, Asher.  Then of course there’s the party and Jenny outing her, and then just not talking to her for months until she needs something from them (an in to the White Party).  Eric manages to convince Evie to play nice, but he does so under the impression that Jenny had apologized to Evie — he didn’t know she’d only apologized to him.  Eventually Jenny does apologize and Evie tries to forgive her, and she keeps giving Jenny more and more second chances (especially once they become step sisters), but Jenny really just keeps hurting Evie to get on top because with Blair gone, Evie immediately becomes the new queen, and Jenny cares more about being queen than being nice.  Little does she realize that part of why Evie became queen with no challenge is because she’s nice.

and regarding Evie’s other relationships... so serena was a really good big sister when Eric & Evie were kids — Blair was the responsible sister and Serena was the fun sister, but it was a good balance and it worked.  But when the twins were around eleven and Serena was around 13, she became besties with Georgina Sparks, and everything went to shit.  Serena started getting into partying and drinking and drugs and became just as flighty and unreliable as Lily, which takes a significant toll on the twins’ mental health — side note, one of their therapists at the Ostroff Centre believes that their significant codependency stems from the abandonment issues they have as a result of Lily and Serena just up and leaving them whenever anything “better” comes along.

And unfortunately for the twins, this was around the same time (grade 6) that Theo got sent to boarding school, so really they lost both their sister and their best friend at the same time, and Theo leaving also messed up the overall group dynamics and they half lost Nate too — he was still in their lives but he went from being the dad to Blair’s mom to being more of a big brother, and there was this sort of hole that didn’t get filled until a couple of years later.

And of course, a lot of it then fell to Blair to try to fill that hole and the holes left by Serena and Lily and went from being sort of “mom friend big sister” to “literally the closest thing we have to a mom”, which is also just a lot of pressure for a thirteen year old girl and part of why Blair and Chuck got a lot closer after he ended up becoming their dad was because she finally had someone that she could talk to too.

Also like full disclosure, Chuck never really intended to become their dad.  He started off as a reluctant big brother because he was Nate’s best friend and Nate was the dad friend when they were younger, and Evie just kind of decided that she loved him and like no one can argue with Evie so all of a sudden he was part of the family.  He doesn’t really become dad until the van der Woodsens move into the hotel because suddenly Eric and Evie are just always there, and he doesn’t even realize it until months later, after Serena is gone and he realizes that he’s been skipping parties to like play mario kart and shit with the twins and Blair is just like “lmao yeah buddy you’re the last one to get this memo”

and then there’s this list that I made of the NJBC’s roles in raising the twins and theo back when they were younger

Blair: holds their hands to cross the street, teaches them not to talk to people who wear sneakers or to strangers, teaches them how to dress themselves like respectable people, makes them finish their homework before watching tv, hates all of their nannies and only trusts dorota to take care of them Nate: teaches them to tie their laces and their ties, plays video games and sports with them, helps them with homework and doesn't get impatient when they struggle, lets them use his notebooks to draw in when they're bored Chuck: will destroy anyone who hurts them, teaches them street smarts and how to tell when someone is lying, is the one who lets them do dumb and reckless things because he'd rather they do them when he's there to get in trouble, still refuses to believe that they know what sex is Serena: reminded them that it's okay to have fun and draw outside the lines, stood up for them when lily was being a shit mom and always tried to protect them from the worst of her neglect, came up with games to play when they were sad to take their minds off whatever is upsetting them

And Theo!!!!!!  Theo has been their best friend for their entire lives!  They’ve known him since they were babies and the three of them have always been inseparable!  Like highkey they were just a more functional NJBC lmao, and we love them for it!  Theo getting sent to boarding school was really hard on all three of them but they stayed in constant contact and whenever Theo is back in the city, it’s almost impossible to see them not together.  Theo does know that they were in the Centre, so once he’s back full time, he’s spending as much time visiting them as he can!  Even when Eric and Theo are dating (and later when Evie and Theo are dating), the group dynamics really never change!  It’s still always the three of them, and sometimes Jenny in s1, they’re still each other’s family, and they’re still just a bit too interdependent to be entirely healthy (it’s the trauma and neglectful parents)

on a slightly related note, neither of the twins drink anything other than champagne and sometimes wine, and neither of them touch drugs at all, and it’s entirely because of Serena.  They’ve both seen how much she’s changed since she got into that scene, and especially since ‘liking partying’ turned into ‘alcohol addiction’, and they’re both too afraid of ending up like that to even take the risk.  It’s something that definitely sets them apart from pretty much any of their peers, but they’ve gotten very good at just laughing it off with a “hey, I just don’t want to end up on Gossip Girl tomorrow” which people generally accept

(that being said, Evie did smoke for a while pre-canon bc cigarettes curb hunger, but she hasn’t smoked at all since ending up in the Centre, and once she’s out too many people have an eye on her for her to even try, and she does want to stop)

(TW ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, fairly detailed discussion) so okay the breaking point for the twins... lily had just gone awol again and Blair was away visiting her dad and evie was at the archibalds’ house hanging out with theo, who was home for a weekend, and eric didn’t want to call anyone because lily’s disappearance had left him in a spiral of feeling annoying and like people didn’t really want him in their lives and there wasn’t a specific trigger but instead of the spiral slowing down or evie/chuck/blair being able to pull him out of it, it just kept getting worse until he was slitting his wrist in the bathroom — only Evie had just gotten home and when he didn’t reply to her calling his name, she got freaked out and started looking for him and when she saw him, she just... couldn’t deal.  She called 911 for eric but then she was just in the bathroom and covered in his blood and she didn’t know what to do and she needed to calm down so she grabbed a bottle of valium that she thinks was Lily’s but instead of just taking one pill she ended up taking all of them and downing them with a bottle of vodka serena had hidden — once she realized what she’d done she called Chuck and basically just said “I think I fucked up” and Chuck freaks out (understandably) and rushes to their suite and gets there basically just in time to see both of them being loaded into an ambulance; he claims he’s their brother and rides with them to the hospital where he calls blair, and arranges for his jet to pick her up asap, and then tries (unsuccessfully) to get in touch with lily

[robin-the-enby]

Drabbles

Pairing: personalized (so me as MC, can be viewed either as platonic or romantic)

Summary: just a few drabbles

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR VINCENT'S, ISAAC'S (IF YOU SQUINT) AND LEO'S ROUTES!!! Description of mental health issues (I can't specify, bc I don't know what's wrong with me) (it's escalating from the least to the most angsty drabble), suicide intention

A/N: This. Is. Super. Angsty. I've been struggling lately and this is for my comfort only, I'm posting this for the small chance you'd like to read it and maybe find comfort in it yourself. I must warn you though, this is triggering.

* * * * *

Opposites

"Truth is...I'm not like most people." Vincent confessed, his eyes never moving from the canvas.

It was a warm and sunny day and Vincent asked Robin to keep him company, while he painted. And who was she to turn down The Vincent van Gogh?

However, this sentence quite caught her off guard. "I mean, you're a vampire..." she said and he chuckled, the sound so light and carefree it made a smile appear on her face as well. "Although that is true, it's not what I meant." his hand worked effortlessly on the painting that was slowly unravelling in front of her "I don't feel things like other people do." he explained.

The made her confused. What did he mean? As if sensing her question, Vincent continued "Ever since I can remember, I never felt any negative emotion. Sadness, anger, envy, all those things are foreign to me."

Suddenly, his smile felt completely different, despite never changing. It was strange seeing him talk about such a glum thing with such a gentle smile on his face and look in his eyes. Then again, she couldn't recall a single moment, where Vincent would be angry or any type of negative...

It came to Robin that this was probably an intimate subject for him and she certainly didn't want him to feel pressured into talking about this with her. When she voiced her concerns, he turned to look at her "There's nothing to worry about Robin. After all, you said you wanted to get to know me better, so I thought you should know." he assured her with a smile, finally looking at her.

Then the conversation stopped and they were both left in silence. Not an awkward one, perhaps Vincent was just giving her time to process it all, which was something she definitely needed.

Robin layed down on the warm grass, putting an arm over her eyes as she listened to the soft sounds of Vincent's brush gliding over the canvas.

What did that feel like, not feeling negative emotions? For a fleeting moment she thought it must've been nice, but then all the downs of it dawned on her. Not being able to be sad when someone close to you dies. Not being able to get angry at someone mistreating others... She'd hate herself if she wasn't able to feel these things and yet she wouldn't even be able to do that.

"Thank you for telling me that Vincent." Robin said quietly, her voice loud enough for him to hear. "You went quiet all of a sudden." the painter pointed out. "I just imagined what that must be like." she shrugged her shoulders.

If he told her something so personal, it only made sense that she tells him something about herself too. Robin had an idea of what she could tell him, but the thought of confessing something like that made her anxiety shoot through the roof, insecure thoughts filling her mind.

Robin hesitated on her next sentence, choosing carefuly every word "I think I have the opposite problem." His head perked up at her words, his whole body turning to face Robin, yet she still layed with her eyes covered, not looking at him. "What do you mean?" it was now his time to be confused.

"I think too much about everything. Small things, big things, things that aren't even happening to me. I like to think about it all, ponder and view from all the different angles. It's my biggest gift and a curse as well." she removed her arm and gazed at the blue sky, not wanting to be envelopped by darkness when she says this.

"A lot of things happen in the world. All the time. Sometimes...it gets too much. I feel like I'll burst with all the thoughts and emotions raging like a storm inside me and then I'm just...numb." Out of the corner of her eye, Robin could see Vincent tilting his head to the side a little. "It's like my whole mind just...shuts down and concentrates on the simplest tasks, like doing my work, eating, sleeping. I can be empty like that for months and months. The truth is," she paused to turn her head to look into his eyes, those bright blue oceans, that no longer looked happy, but rather concerned "the truth is that there's so much pain in my mind, that it refuses to acknowledge it anymore." Robin shifted her gaze towards the grass as she began to play with it "Or so I've been told."

The silence that followed was much heavier than the previous one. Robin thought it was because this time, Vincent didn't smile. No, he was frowning. Just like he did for her, she gave him time to process it, secretly hoping that she didn't ramble too much.

But after a while Vincent smiled again, though this time she thought it was for her sake only "Thank you for telling me Robin." She blushed at his words "Are you sure I didn't talk too much?" she asked bashfuly to reassure herself. Vincent nodded, chuckling "Of course not. After all, I said I wanted to get to know you more too, didn't I?" he smiled at her and the afternoon continued as peacefully as ever.

Purpose

One of her most favorite things in this new life she was living was napping with Leonardo.

She was never a good sleeper, so she'd come to him and ask him if they can nap together and he never declined, much to her joy. After some time, she stopped asking. She saw him sitting on the library floor, that droopy look in his eyes and she just plopped down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder and he understood.

Today, she found him in his room, laying in his bed for once. Once he saw it was Robin who entered, he scooted away to make room for her and she joined him. They layed on their sides, facing eachother to save as much space as possible.

But today was different. While Leonardo's sleepiness always made her relax and fall asleep as well, it seemed today even he couldn't sleep. And so they talked. At first it wasn't anything serious, everything and nothing, their voices hushed, so they wouldn't ruin the quiet atmosphere and besides, there was no reason to be loud.

But as the conversation went on, the topics started getting more serious and so turned the tones of their voices as well.

The deep sadness Leo's eyes held as he told her about his alchemy experiments was surely engraved in her mind for the time being.

"I think that because your lives are limited, it gives you purpose."

She took in that sentence for a while, before she giggled. The sadness that plagued those beautiful golden eyes was quickly replaced by confusion and before he could think she was making fun of him, Robin tried to explain, not realizing where would this sentence take her "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you, I swear!" she wheezed breathlessly between giggles.

Leonardo quirked a brow "And what are you laughing at then?"

Not long after she managed to calm down her breathing and the realization that she'll really have to confess something she hasn't told even the doctors in her time dawned on Robin. She suddenly didn't feel like laughing at all.

"Well, the irony of the situation." she started sheepishly. Leonardo didn't seem much wiser, so she took a deep breath and collected her thoughts for a short while.

"I actually think the opposite." another deep breath and a sigh "Stop me if I ramble too much, alright?" she looked at him and he smirked at her in a way that told her that he knew this isn't going to be a happy topic, but in no way in hell was he going to stop her. Curious bastard, Robin thought with a grumble and shuffled closer to him, that way she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.

"This happened a long time ago, but it stuck with me. I don't remember what I was doing, I just remember, I stopped in the middle of completing the chore, for some reason, and thought to myself: Am I happy?

And do you know what the answer to that was? No. No, I didn't feel happy. To be completely honest, I didn't feel anything. But that didn't make sense, everything was going fine, I didn't have a reason to feel this way or in this case, not feel.

I started thinking about it, monitoring myself more and I realized just how numb I really am most of the time. Of course, I started to question it. Why was this happening? Why did everything feel like a dream? Why did the days, weeks, months go by, while I felt like I lived in a bubble, one that numbs everything, makes things feel muffled.

I started questioning my life. Was anything really real? Was I real? It didn't feel like I was. How does it even feel, being real? I should know, I am... Aren't I?

It started out so small. One stupid question. One easy question.

The more I thought about it, the more disconnected I felt. Every day I felt more numb. I wished I could just stop everything, but I couldn't. I carried on doing the things I was supposed to do. Go to school, do my chores, socialize with other people. I didn't know why I was doing it, it didn't make any sense, but at the same time, it was the only logical thing for me to do, something I was used to, I couldn't just stop, that would only make this chaos worse.

And I suffered through it all. When somebody asked, I didn't lie. I had no reason to. I knew there were people who'd gladly help me, but fear of annoying them and upseting them made me stay away. If they would leave, I'd truly lose my mind.

Nothing made sense anymore. My life, my choices, nothing. I was clinging to any at least a bit logical thing in my life, because everything felt so pointless, so abstract and absurd. I thought I didn't matter. That nothing I'll ever do will matter.

I still think so. I still don't feel anything most of the time, I still think everyone on this planet is worthless, even though saying it out loud feels wrong. I'm just too numb to care at the moment."

She didn't want to look at him. Through her whole speech, Leonardo was as quiet as a mouse. Finally his rich voice sounded above her head "Why didn't you just stop thinking about it then?"

Robin smiled dryly "Because it felt like I was avoiding the subject. Like it was a responsibility that I just have to get over with and I'll finally be able to breathe again."

Leonardo was quiet. Her words were strong, nothing like he'd ever heard before. There was a real pain in those words and he, as much of a smooth talker as he is, wasn't sure he could say anything that would change her mind.

So he opted for just holding her, until he'll be able to make her smile again. And perhaps a real smile this time, one she'd truly feel.

Sung woes

(I'll pretend I can sing and play the piano in this one XD)

Inspired by: Irony - English cover by Lizz Robinnet

Soft knocks sounded through Mozart's room, the great composer huffing in annoyance and turning away from his desk, where he was working on his newest piece.

Opening the door he found Robin nervously shuffling in front of him. "What do you need?" Wolf asked boredly.

"W-well, you see, uhm..." she stumbled over her words. Mozart rolled his eyes impatiently "Get on with it already." he groaned out. Robin tensed "I wanted to-to ask you, if I could play something on the piano, maybe..?"

When he just blankly stared at her, she waved her hands dismissively in front of her "O-or not! It doesn't matter, if you don't feel comfortable, I get it, hehe." she tried to laugh it off.

Mozart was in fact considering letting her play, since to this moment, he didn't know she was capable of it. Curiousity winning over his obsessive cleanliness, he sighed "Fine. Just don't get it dirty or anything."

Robin quickly nodded and rushed to the music room.

When the door closed behind her, the composer stepped back into his room, but instead of continuing his work, he headed for the bed. He sat on it and listened carefuly for any sounds.

At first, a few random melodies rang through the air, to warm herself up, he presumed.

Then, a seemingly cheerful melody, although muffled by the wall, floated from his music room.

It sounded light and airy, but had a sad undertone to it. He thought about maybe coming to listen, but quickly discarding the idea, for he himself hated being interrupted.

And it would stay that way, had the woman in the next room not started singing. Mozart couldn't make out the words from his room and so his curiosity won.

Quietly, like a thief, he crept out of his room, towards the white door to his music room. He could now hear everything much clearer and had to admit, Robin wasn't half bad. But the music was louder than her voice and it bothered him. He desperately wanted to know what the lyrics were about.

Maybe he could open the door, just a tiny bit, so the sound could escape?

Is this how others pass this room when I play? the composer wondered with a frown, feeling a bit ashamed.

If that's the case then just hear my plea: Pick me up and drop me into unfaltering sleep!

The sudden change in melody startled Mozart from his thought's, the slight glimpse of the song's lyrics worrying him. There was no way now that he'd turn away.

He reached for the knob and with the speed of a snail turned it around, making sure no potentional creaks could be heard.

He flinched at the sudden increase in volume and opened the door wider, so he could comfortably watch her. If she noticed him, he could just say he was checking if nothing happened to his piano.

What he wasn't expecting, was a hand on his shoilder and a joyful voice whisper too near to his ear for comfort "Peeping into your own room, are we?"

Mozart quickly recovered from the surprise, quickly pulling his face away from the door and facing an unlikely duo that isn't seen unless a certain physicist is present.

"What are you two doing here?" Mozart hissed at Arthur and Dazai, both writers smiling innocently. "I just noticed the sudden change in the songs, so I figured someone else must be playing and that alone is a wonder. I needed to see it with my own eyes. I didn't know Robin could play." smiled Arthur.

"I'm wondering where did all the sadness come from. Toshiko-san looks always so happy, I wanted to see what has made her so sad?" Dazai's smile turned a little sad and sympathetic, as if he knew exactly what was happening.

"How do you know she is sad if you didn't hear the lyrics?" asked Arthur. "Don't you hear? It's not the lyrics, it's the way she sings. Only an idiot wouldn't notice that." Dazai answered. Mozart nodded "I only was able to make out bits of it, but it doesn't sound very positive.

Arthur's expression turned serious "Well then we should confront her about it, singing or not." and pushed past the composer, him and Dazai hot on his tail.

The sudden arrival startled Robin and the music stopped for a short while. She didn't look at them, she didn't want to, if she did, she would break down and the song would be left unfinished.

Just as Arthur opened his mouth, her voice cut him off "Step back from me, please, leave me be, this so deceitful road that I stumble on is never going to end." her voice was soft, before suddenly increasing again.

"It's getting difficult to maneuvour and it's just worthless to try and run away, so I'll just hold my hands over my ears and block out all this noise. How can I live not knowing what life is? Sometimes my dreams seem to be more realistic, obviously I can't be called happy, then what am I after all? "

The way Robin sang felt like she was talking directly to the three men in the room with her and left them speechless.

She gently put the lid on the piano keys and quietly stood up, drying her hands on her skirt. Muttering a quiet thank you to Mozart she made a beeline towards the exit, trying to get away from the situation and probable interrogation as quickly as humanly possible.

A certain Japanese writer caught her sleeve before Robin could slip past him "That was truly beautiful Toshiko-san." he said with a smile, although the tone of his voice was nothing but serious "But if you ever need to talk... My windows are always open." joked Dazai at the end, prompting a chuckle out of her. Arthur and Mozart stayed silent, neither of them being the type of person one would come confess to.

"Thank you Dazai, really, but...I'm alright." and with a smile she was gone. But neither of the men could believe her words.

The thought came out of nowhere.

Momentary relapse

Now would be a good time to do it.

And so she did. She tied two scarves together and put them in a bag, ready to go.

The middle of the night, the sky clear, stars littered the black canvas like pearls. Would this be any other night, she would stop and admire the view above her, but tonight everything that didn’t have to do anything with her goal was a potential distraction that could change her mind.

Her brain already decided she was gonna do it and she went along with it, chickening out now would only be cowardiness, Robin thought. And if there was anything she learned from the geniuses she residet with, it was bravery.

Tiptoeing out of her room, Robin quietly crept through the hallway past all the resident’s rooms.

A muffled melody could be heard in the music room and light shone from under Arthur’s door. They must be still up, thought Robin and it made her feel strange. Would they realize tommorow morning that she must’ve went past them while they were still awake? Would they feel guilty? She hoped not. It would be best if they just forgot she ever existed.

Robin wasn’t naive. She knew she was loved and very much so, she also knew that by ending her life she would hurt those who loved her, but they were strong, stronger than she was anyway, maybe it would take a while, but they would get over it eventually.

Once she was out in the garden, Robin breathed a tired sigh of relief. Focusing only on her way she made her way through the garden, towards the forest surrounding the mansion. How hard could it be? You just have to find the right tree, pick a branch strong and high enough, tie the end of the noose around it, put your head through the actuall noose and the rest is easy, right? She could figure it out once she gets there, it’s not like anyone was following her.

“Ehm. Where are you going?”

Too soon. Robin winced. She was so consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Isaac stargazing in the garden. Stupid, she reprimanded herself You should’ve expected something like this. It’s okay, you can lie your way through this.

“Hi Isaac.” she smiled her best smile at him. It felt strange, acting so casually while her end was nearing.

The air between them grew awkward, so Isaac coughed slightly and said “It’s not like it’s my business or anything, I was just surprised to see you here, and so...” his voice grew quieter as his confidence dissapeared. Mary smiled a him “It’s alright, I was just going in the forest for a stroll.” Isaac lifted an eyebrow “In the middle of the night?” “Yes, it will be an adventure! The forest can be quite spooky at night.” she grinned in response.

The physicist looked towards the dark woods, then back at his friend. “I will acompany you, if that’s okay.” Robin blinked at him in surprise. This wasn’t how it should’ve gone! He would only complicate things! But saying no could be suspicious. While Isaac took her surprised look as confusion “There could be wild animals and knowing you, you would definitely get in trouble.”

His words nearly made her cry. Once again she was reminded of how much she was actually loved. And so she agreed.

Side by side they walked deeper and deeper into the woods. While Isaac was looking up at the sky, Robin inspected all the threes around them. “We’re pretty deep in, how would you know your way back?” the man beside her wondered. Robin’s heart dropped. How was she supposed to answer to that? Maybe if I stay quiet, he’ll drop it. But that didn’t seem to be the case. “Well?” Isaac turned his head towards her.

“Uhh...I-I don’t know.” she shrugged her shoulders and laughed nervously. Isaac squinted his eyes and looked at her with a strange expression on his face. “What do you have in that bag anyways?” he asked curiously. Robin quickly shoved her bag behind her back to hide it from view, as if that would make him forget about it “Nothing important, really.” she quickly said. Perhaps too quickly. “What time is it?” she changed the subject.

Isaac blinked at her in surprise, then looked towards the sky once again “It’s close to midnight I think.” he muttered. “Well then, shouldn’t you be getting back? I mean, I don’t want you to starve, just because you’re too considerate.” Robin pushed on. “What about you?” Isaac asked as Robin started pushing him in the direction of the mansion. “Oh don’t worry about me for once. I remember the way.” she waved him off, said a quick goodbye and sent him on his way.

Isaac didn’t like that at all. Surely if she didn’t want to spend time with him she’d tell him, no? He just wanted to keep her company, since he heard from an unusually glum Dazai she hasn’t been feeling very happy lately.

Now that he thought about it, there were some red flags in his mind and the whole situation left him suspicious. Deciding to trust his gut more than logic, Isaac turned around and went to look for Robin, all the while trying to push the worst scenario out of his head.

He found her not far from the place he departed from her. She was facing a tree, holding something in her hands... "Robin?” he called out to her softly. Said woman jumped around, revealig her pale face and the object she was holding. 

A noose.

“What are you doing?!” he asked, panicked, his worst fears confirming. Robin’s face was hard as steel, determined look in her eyes. Perfectly composed, she stuffed the deadly instrument back into her bag, marching past him towards the mansion “Nothing.”

Isaac, bewildered, quickly jogged up to her “Well, you were about to do something.” “Well, not anymore.” she huffed. “So what, you try to kill yourself and then pretend it didn’t happen?” “Yes, exactly. It was a momentary relapse, it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t want to try anymore Isaac. I’m tired. It’s been six months and things are only getting worse and worse. I’m not strong enough for this, I don’t need this, I never asked for this.” the longer she talked, the more rapid and shakier her voice became. He only squeezed her tighter “We’ll think of something.” he tried to assure her. “And what do you want to do? Isaac, this is not something temporary, not even the doctors in my time can do much about this! I don’t even know what’s wrong with me!”

Isaac quickly jumped in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. Robin turned her head down so she could avoid his gaze and pursed her lips. “You’re right. It won’t. I won’t ever let it get that far again.” Isaac told her quietly and firmly, drawing her into a hug.

The physicist quietly shushed her and slowly rubbed her back as she trembled in his embrace. He maybe looked composed but on the inside he was panicking. Truly, he didn’t know what to do. He would probably ask Comte or Leo, hell, even Arthur if that helped. They were certainly wiser or more suitable for this kind of problem. But he’d help however he could. Call it selfishness, but he would do anything to keep her here just a while longer.

[braunyreiss]

How many Parallels/hints/panels has isayama done for EH over the arcs+timeskips because I seen the way on how isayama puts theses two character's together very closely and that shows us something. What do you think about their relationship.

Hello anon! im sorry for the late answer, i was so busy and didn’t have time enough to take a look at tumblr.Parallels between those two. The ones not that important and more random like attitudes or random datas. Most of the parallel images im going to use, i took them from twitter long ago.Before start, i apologize for my english, but i hope you understand my point.Lets start:

1-Killing their first titan, the emotion, the pose and the movement

2-Worried about their close friend

3-Never needed to happend. 

4-The way they cry laughing

5-Their parents trying to inject them

6- Mothers killed in front of them

7-Killing their fathers

8-Overprotective friends, hitting them with their head lol

9-Worried about each other and saving each other

10-Half-siblings with royal blood

11-Destroying the world

12-the pose lol

13- having their fathers memories

14-Boring and routine childhood

15- being interested in something for the first time by reading a book

16- Fake previews, AU, where they both feel so bored about their lifes (And she is the one who understands him).Historia was a kid who received no love and being despised bullied and ignored. While time passed, she didn’t understand what did she do wrong. she felt depressed, insecure, feeling that her existence was unnecesar, that everyone would be happier if she wasnt alive. She blamed herself for everything. She had no goals, only wanting to commit suicide so people will love her for doing sth heroic, and also making other happ with her death. Then, Ymir appeard, she finally felt what life was, she wanted to live, Ymir made her to love herself, she was the one who inspirated her but then she left her saving the warriors, making Historia feeling lost again, the only person who she cared left her, and was alone again. But then Eren appears. She opened to someone else than Ymir, cause he saw through her mask and knew there was sth wrong with her. Then, he said what she needed to be told since the very begining. All she wanted is to be a normal person. She still was kind of lost and depressed (totally normal) and they even wanted her to make her the queen. With all her insecurities and fear because of rejection (something she experience along her entire life) of the whole people in the walls. She had the pressure but she accepted fearfull. Then, she met her father, he said sorry for everything, but he needed to do that in order to protect her, and now is the one who gonna save everyone being the new goddes by having the founding titan. What this meant for her, is that everything was a lie, she was loved, she was special, and finally she had a duty protecting hmanity from titans. But for this she had to kill Eren, and she was going to do it, she blinded herself because how nice everything sounds, and how everything that made her suffer was a lie. She was prepared to sacrifice Eren but not for humanity, for herself, beleiving she was special, her father loved her, a new goal.Eren on the other hand, he was totally different from Historia, a confident kid, with forcefulness goals, killing titans, those who destroyed his life. While he was growing, he kind of thought that he was someone special because of his titan power. And also, there was a big pressure on him with big expectations from soldiers and humanity. He had the title of being the hope of humanity. He kept confident until the Rod Reiss speech. This young boy who was so confident, now was broken for those words, wanting to die in order to, at least, make something good for humanity with his death. Everything about being special was a lie. He never needed to happened. That’s what he said. And Historia heard him. She totally felt that, she knew those feelings. here is the most importan parallelism that made their relationship that strong. Historia opened her eyes, her father was using him, she saved Eren, who still wanted to die and she hits him, being on his side, telling him that humanity is the one who must be destroyed, that she is the enemy of humanity. The enemy of humanity because she didn’t accept her duty, she wanted to live by herself, didn’t accept to be a goddes, a special person for humanity. And because she saved Eren, the “guilty” of everything. Doing this, means that she is on his side (and bc of this, enemy of humanity) so he is not alone. Now she was the one who was trying to make Eren gain some self esteem. Also she wanted to make sure that it wasn’t true that he was no needed. Some chapters later, watching Historia’s development, he understood he was not special, that feeling actually made him weak. But even if he is not special, he must help because he CAN, even without being different of the rest. He needed to chose his path, took decisions, as Historia, who finally decided her path but she wanted to do something in order to become more confident and to overcome herself. She chose to not be a goddes, but a normal person that fight and do what she can do for humanity, and that’s what Eren did, she inspired him, (if im not wrong, isayama said that he was inspired watching Historia in a guidebook). There is no need to be special, just do what you can, broke the chains. Both Eren and Historia were chained by their respective fathers. Historia got rid of this, and then also Eren. He respects her so much since all this situation. She was so important to Eren’s development. Seems that they become close. 

Here you can see when he starts talking about the blondie. He understands her. (Also he ignores Jean trying to bother him with provocations)

Here you see them having a serious talk

Then changing the topic, finally Eren changing his countenance, and then just kidding like close friends. Also Historia

Also, you see how Historia takes a box and kept walking but then she decided to wait and walk with Eren but not with the other ones. You she how she is closer to him than with the rest and feel confortable with him.This relationship is based on empathy, muttual support and inspiration. Both of them were for each other when both weren’t psychologically in a good way or needed help, even if they weren’t that close in the beginning. He was the only one besides Ymir that saw the real her, and supported her. She was the only one who could understand, support, and inspire him in his worst situation. And you see how much Eren is concern about her and protects her. How he smiles when she is arround and sees her happy. You will never imagine that he would smile again after shiganshina’s battle with that traumatic experience, but he still smiled because of her. For me, all of this is beautiful. How positive they are for each other, how they helped each other when they were down in their worst situation. I appreciate that so much and i love it!I don’t think this relationship was built for nothing (not necessary in a romantic way).