#but people think hes dumb for using the scabbard

[darlingkairos]

Padawan Maul design things.

His outfit is based on a Japanese edoten, and the scabbard idea is from Star-wars visions ( I thought it was cool, hehe)

Maul was taken by Palpatine as a child, but the dummy lost him, and he ended up with the Jedi. Maul is a strict follower of the Jedi code, even going as far as not using lethal force (light lightsaber) as a way to show his extreme commitment (to pacifism). His master is Shaak-Ti because she would mentor the hell out of that boy.

In this AU, Maul's personality is kinda like Gaara from Naruto. Very quiet, convinced he was born to be evil yearning for connection.

In truth, Maul doesn't use his Lightsaber because he is afraid to kill. He thinks that if he kills, even in self-defense, he won't be able to stop killing.

The scabbard is reinforced with lightsaber resistant metal so he can fight with it.

[szqnxi]

|| Tiara

Hawks x reader

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

Warnings: mentions of blood, killing, cursing (remind me if I left out something)

This is definitely not proofread so expect grammatical errors and typos.

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

"Why am I here again?" Hawks asked you. Annoyance visible on his face, he's switching from adjusting the string of his leather bag to plucking the leaves of the bush behind him.

"Because you hired me to help you rob, not to rob for you" You opened your eyes and sat up from leaning on the tree.

He scowled at you in which you replied with a laugh.

"You're lucky you're pretty" He huffed and plucked another leaf from the bush.

Poor bush.

"Why? You chickening out?" You asked and scooted over to him, your face mere inches away from each other. "Are you perhaps....scared?"

"I am not." Hawks frowned. His black wings stiffening.

"Sure. If you say so" You chuckled and moved away, your eyes still on him.

You quietly examined his features. He has a blonde fluffy hair that is brushed upwards, his black shiny wings are all fluffed up in a weird way, feathers sticking out in all directions. His skin is like a porcelain doll and his cheeks glowed a faint shade of pink. He is pretty. Very very pretty and you hate to admit it but he's mesmerizing to look at.

It isn't really rare to find an Avian Skyborn roaming in the outside world, especially now that Izuku, a human prince from Musutafu, together with the neighboring countries, decided to make peace with the other races after years of war between them and the human race. Tho you wondered what Hawks is doing out here, in a country so opposed with the peace between races, hiring you to rob the palace with him, of all places. But well... it isn't your business anyway.

You tried to redirect your attention from him to your surroundings. The place you were at was a good distance from the palace. It was covered with bushes and tall leafy trees that made hiding much easier. It looks like it was one of the hideouts that people used to take a break from life. It was comforting, in a way. You sighed and reached for your sword and leather bag, you wore your sling bag and strapped the scabbard of your sword to your waist and gave it a light tap after.

After a few moments, you stood up and peeked over the bush to take a good look at the palace. Hawks had seemed to notice what you were doing and decided to join as well, slowly peeking at the other side of the bush.

"Why are we still here anyway?" He asked.

"I thought you were scared? Why are you suddenly in a rush?" You grinned at him and he just huffed at you in return.

"I am not scared. I was just asking because we've been sitting here for more than an hour already" Hawks then pointed at the clock tower.

"Patience bird man. I'm memorizing the guard's routes. We can't afford to get caught now, do we?"

Hawks squinted at you for a moment before he sighed in defeat, plopping himself back to sit behind the bush. His one leg resting and the other one bent with his arm draped over the knee.

"I'm starting to think I hired the wrong person" He sighed. "Remind me to never hire you again"

"Oh? Are you doubting my skills now? When you haven't even seen them?" You asked, amused.

"How the hell are you even able to memorize the guard's routes when the entire time we've been here, you were just sitting near that dumb tree, with your eyes closed. And what does the guards routes have anything to do with this" He said, his voice laced with annoyance.

You laughed. He's been like this ever since you dragged him out of his inn at the tavern.  Hawks have been complaining about why he has to accompany you, when he himself, is the one that hired you. You always answer with a laugh; after all, he hired you to help him rob, not to rob for him. He should've worded it better.

In hindsight, you should have turned down his commission. Assassination was your forte anyway, not robbery. But when he mentioned the place he wanted to rob, you couldn't help but reconsider. Plus, he pays well (you dropped the price and he happily agreed)...

"Here" You handed him a black hooded cloak. He raised an eyebrow at you before he hesitantly took it.

"I tore a hole at the back to accommodate your wings" You said as you wear yours, pulling over the hood to hide your face. "That's one of my good cloaks so you owe me for that.

"You shouldn't have bothered" He stood up and wore the cloak you gave him, it took him a solid minute because of how big his wings were.

You two started walking slowly to the back side of the palace, careful not to get the attention of the guards patrolling nearby. After a few minutes you settled nearby a massive pillar.

You gestured at Hawks and pointed at the nearby door that leads to the underground of the palace. It was guarded by two armed guards.

You can easily handle them, sure, but knowing you have  company this time, you doubt that he'll be okay with violence, much less blood.

'Whatever. He doesn't even look that innocent at all' you thought to yourself

"So what's the plan?" Hawks whispered.

"Try not to die" You answered.

"That's it? That's your plan?!" His voice raised a bit. This took the attention of the guards. You shushed him down and pulled him to scrouch down behind the pillar.

"You heard that?" One of the guard's voices echoed throughout the hallway

"Should we check?" The other one asked. You slowly peeked from behind the pillar, they looked at each other before nodding and started walking towards your position.

You turned your head to glare at Hawks, silently reprimanding him for being too loud. "This might get bloody" you whispered at him and he just rolled his eyes at you.

You took a deep breath before drawing your sword. You launched yourself at one of the guards, grabbing his arms and swiftly flipping him over, pinning him to the ground, face first, before seizing the opening to strike your sword at the guards nape. You sprung back to your feet in an instant to deflect a strike from the second guard. In one swift motion, you swung your sword at his neck, cutting off his head in a single clean stroke.

'Ah. I should've just made them sleep' you muttered to yourself in annoyance. You were so accustomed to killing that it became a habit to kill that you rarely thought of the other options.

You sheathed your sword before you turned to Hawks and tried to wipe the remnants of the guard's blood that had spluttered on your face.

"Let's go" You said. He looked down at the lifeless bodies of the guards. He sighed before he hesitated to step over them and walked towards you, who is now currently holding the door for him.

You were greeted by a long flight of stairs and stone walls that had metal sconces attached to it, holding torches to light up the way down.

It was a silent walk. You walked behind him, arms resting casually behind your head and a low humming of a song escaping your lips as if you haven't brutally unalive those guards earlier.

You looked at Hawks, his wings illuminated by the fiery glow of the torches mounted on the walls, making them shine at the dimly lit corridor.

"So, care to tell me what exactly are we supposed to be stealing in this place?" You inquired, breaking the silence.

He stopped in his tracks, he hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth and then closing them again before he started walking again.

You hummed, acknowledging that he didn't want to talk to you about it.

After a few minutes, you two reached the bottom of the stairs and were greeted by a spacious room with multiple doors leading to different parts of the dungeon in the palace.

You walked past him and straight to the door at your right side, he followed suit. After a few minutes of walking into the labyrinth-like room you are greeted with a room with multiple sets of doors.

Again.

"Are you sure we aren't lost?" He questioned, eyebrows raised at you.

"No we aren't" You answered and opened a big wooden door. His eyes turned wide as he saw what was inside the room.

It was the treasure room.

"You're welcome" you said jokingly after he walked inside the room. He took a torch outside and immediately searched for the item he was looking for.

You left him to his business and looked around the room. To say it was huge was an understatement. There were various paintings in varying sizes hung on the wall, below these paintings are tons of lined shelf racks; some holding treasure chests with the insignia of other countries or races, valuable items like high class fabrics, porcelain tea sets, plates and vases.

At the end of the room lies the most valuable items inside the room, they are placed in a long clothed table covered in a glass box, but what really caught your attention is the small glass box that is separated from the others.

It was under a painting covered with a white dusty fabric. You walked towards it, your footsteps echoing inside the room. You stared at what was inside and hesitated for a moment before opening up the box and taking the item, then you carefully placed it inside your sling bag.

You then turned around to find Hawks so engrossed at examining his looted treasures. It was a katana, a small jewelry box and a book that appears to be a grimoire. You snickered lowly and quietly walked towards him.

"What's that?" With a shit eating grin, you peeked your head from behind his shoulder.

He squeaked. Immediately covering his mouth to stop himself from creating too much noise, which caused him to accidentally drop the torch, extinguishing it and making the room dim. Only the light from the gap under the door is your only source of light.

"What is wrong with you?" He scowled at you, clearly annoyed.

You were about to talk back when you heard guards marching on the hallway from outside the room. You quickly shoved the torch and the remnants of coal under the table, you then pulled Hawks who is now holding the treasures to hide with you under the clothed table.

The cramped space felt even tighter due to the size of his wings. You tried to move into a more comfortable position, which turned out to be a mistake. It ended up with you pinned underneath him, his hands on either side of your face to support his weight. You turned your head to the side, distracting yourself by lifting the heavy cloth, creating a small opening just enough for you to peek through.

"You, go back outside and alert all of the guards. The rest will  split into two. You three should go to the lower levels of the dungeon, we will be searching this floor." you can hear muffled voices of the guards outside from under the table.

The door of the room opened, you quickly let go of the cloth. You can hear footsteps and metal clanking from the guards armor as they enter the room.

"Sir, some of the treasures are gone...even the...." you heard one of the guards say as the sound of his footsteps approached the small glass box where you took something earlier.

"The King will not be happy about this" one of them mumbled.

"Hurry! They must be still nearby, they killed two of us and decided to steal from us. The nerve of these people! We won't let them get away"

You heard them rushing outside. You let out a sigh of relief as one of the guards started closing the door. You turned your head to look at Hawks, who is now looking at you, face flushed. Unbeknownst to you, your knee is brushing against his crotch and as soon as you meet his gaze, his wing twitches, hitting the table and making a thud noise. It wasn't that loud but it was loud enough that it took the attention of the guard, making him halt the closing of the door.

You heard him take a step back to investigate where the noise had come from.

'No no no no no' you can hear your own heartbeat rapidly increasing

"Connor! The fuck are you doing" one of the guards outside shouted

"Coming lieutenant" the guard said, hurriedly closing the door to follow his comrades.

The door slammed shut, snapping you back to reality and suddenly getting aware of how compromising the position you were in truly was. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I think it's safe to go out now" You cleared your throat, trying to ease the tension between you two.

He awkwardly shifted his way out of the cramped space, leaving you to lie alone on the cold marble for a moment. You took a few deep breaths, as you tried to calm yourself down, only for your moment of peace to be interrupted as Hawks lifted the tablecloth, peeking his head inside.

You shoved his head out of the way and crawled out. You stood up straight, dusting off the dirt from your clothes and gave him a middle finger after. He raised an eyebrow at you before returning the gesture as well.

"We should take a detour. I doubt that the path we took earlier is still safe" You said and led the way towards the door, opening it a little bit to peek your head outside, searching for any incoming guards.

The journey back to the tavern was rather boring, to say the least. Hawks insisted that flying back was the best option, but you were so against the idea, saying that it would attract too much attention. The disagreement eventually led to a game of rock-paper-scissors, which you won, of course and he was pouting the entire way back, walking behind you and childishly kicking rocks.

"Dinner?" He questioned as you both entered the tavern. The room reeked of alcohol. Groups of rowdy drunkards were in every corner of the establishment and the noises they were making as they drank the night away were deafening. Some are laughing so hard, some are singing along with the bards, some are playing arm wrestling and the others are just so drunk that they're already passed out on the floor and tables.

You gave him a thumbs up, he turned and headed towards his room upstairs, presumably to drop off his stuff and maybe change out of his current clothing. You don't know for sure. You turned your heels to walk towards the receptionist.

"Y/n! It's nice to see you again" the girl behind the counter beamed

"A meal for two. You just saw me this morning" you said as you turned your head to read the contents of the nearby adventurers bulletin board.

"Finished with your commission already?" She asked as she wrote down your order.

You hummed in return "Pay day?" you pointed back to the drunkards.

She nodded "They've been drinking since lunch. I don't even know how to get them to leave" Eleanor sighed. Poor girl.

"Maybe ask old man Geralt to chase them out with his kitchen knife?" You joked as you saw the said cook step towards the reception table.

"We would lose costumers you know" he said

"I doubt that. You're the best tavern in town" You said with a giggle. Plus, it's not like he hadn't done that multiple times before.

The old man laughed "Dinner is on the house" he said, walking back to his kitchen. He may not look like it but he's definitely pleased with your compliment.

You let Eleanor do her thing, as you made your way through the back of the tavern to search for an unoccupied table. To your surprise, none of them were taken, despite the place being jam-packed with both rowdy drunks and regular customers alike.

A few minutes after the fold was served, Hawks walked into the room, taking a seat across the table from you. The two of you enjoyed your food, chatting idly about the events that had happened earlier in the day. When you finish eating, you decide it wouldn't hurt to down a bottle or two, and Hawks decided to join you.

You were chugging a pint of beer when he handed you a small pouch filled with gold. You counted the contents and you realized that he had given you triple the amount you asked for. You tried to give it back, but he refused, insisting that you should keep it, in the end, you both came to a compromise. You would accompany him for the time being, so that you could be there to lend a hand whenever he might need it. This way, he can ensure that his money was well-spent, and it was a fair deal, in your opinion.

"You know....it makes me wonder how you seem to know every single passage in that damned castle" he asked, slamming his pint glass on the table. There was a mix of curiosity and mild suspicion in his tone.

You laughed.

Your hand left your pint of beer, reaching into your bag and pulling out a familiar object. You held it up to show him, the object glimmering brightly under the tavern lights. A smile appeared on your lips as you put the object on top of your head.

Note: I don't know why this is so long lmao. I might make a part two if this post got a lot of attention. Also, for the people who requested something in my inbox, I'm so sorry that I can't make your requests. My phone got reseted about 2 weeks ago and I lost all of my stories 😔 including the continuation of Make love and 3 other story requests. I'm still open to requests tho /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

"You can say that I used to live there" you couldn't help but giggle at the dumbfounded look on his face when he realized what you had just said to him.

|| Masterlist

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

it's my birthday! another year gone. another year wiser.

i had originally planned to start posting the Locked Tomb AU today, as a treat to myself, but a series of depressing real-life events have made it so I haven't had time to even think about editing it, let alone actually put it out into the world. which is sad, because the thing I want to do most is share it with people. it's one of the most fun things i've ever worked on.

so I've decided to compromise, and share the first little chunk of the first chapter here. it's not much but it's here. enjoy it, and hopefully the rest will be on its way to an AO3 account near you, soon enough.

***

In the myriadic year of our Lord – the ten thousandth year of the King Undying, the Emperor Unsleeping, Gracious Savior Of Us All! – Remus Tetradrachmus raised his hand high to the hallowed marbled ceilings of the Fourth, and prepared once more to murder his brother.

The fool himself was sitting out on the palace’s gilded balcony, completely unaware of any coming danger or trouble. His rapier was thoroughly sheathed, and more than that, he was half-sitting on it; the shining polished gleam of the scabbard crushed into the couch cushions as he sprawled out upon them. A new shipment of his dreadful romance fiction had arrived only the day before, and Roman was – as always – hooked like a dead-eyed fish on tales of swashbuckling heroism and cavaliers spouting lengthy, flowery, disgustingly soppy love confessions to their swooning necromancers.

Holding his breath, Remus rotated theorems in his head and thought about teeth and nails as he crept closer to the gleaming glass doors overlooking the city. An optimal position was the most important thing before he got started, here. Too close and he might only succeed in an embarrassing overshoot when he did burst out the double-doors, too far away and Roman might have time to actually make it to his rapier in time. Neither seemed optimal! Timing was everything. Fortunately, Remus wasn’t on a schedule or anything, pfft, no, nothing so boring. He could start this caper at any which time he pleased, right now or in an hour, or tomorrow, or never! But also he was absolutely going to start this right motherfucking now, because why wait?

Jittery with nervous delight, Remus wiggled his still-outstretched fingers in a frenetic flutter, realized that wasn’t nearly enough wiggling, and danced a little in place – a nearly-silent tip-tap-slide of boots on the floor. He wondered briefly if he should think over the consequences of his imminent murder attempt, and then dismissed doing so as entirely too boring. Fratricide with forethought was the most boring sort of fratricide, any idiot would be able to tell you that. Even Roman, dumb idiot baby brother that he was, might even agree.

Enough pondering! To work! To murder!

Remus flexed his fingers, laid them stiff and flat in the air, and got on with it.

He’d been working on this trick for a good few weeks now, and had managed to bite his tongue from bragging about it to his brother, which he’d considered to be very impressive considering just how absolutely bitching of a trick it was. Trick wasn’t the right word for it, it was a downright innovation and a marvel of necromancy he’d been developing. It wasn’t that redirecting a living subject’s thalergy was that difficult or unresearched of a discipline, oh no – Remus had read all the lore, he knew all the dirty deets, he’d been building off that research.

No, the real trick was forcing the thalergy of a living body down and through the fingers without the subject noticing.

Out on the terrace, Roman hummed a sweet little snatch of nothing-music to himself as he reached out to turn the page of a brand-new copy of the Nine-House classic, Just Like Seven. Remus was now close enough to see the little colored tabs of flimsy scattered all throughout the pages of the novel, and the little pad of scribbled nonsense laid out on the couch right next to it. Probably planning some soppy recursive fiction about Mark Septalo and his stupid sexy ghost-cavalier. God knew their bedroom was half-full of the damn stuff – the other half being filled with his own, obviously superior erotica of the same source material.

They were each others’ copy editors, and each hated the job with a fierce professional passion.

Remus squinted his eyes, and flipped the logistics of flesh and bone back and forth in his head like a child playfully batting around a soft ball, and his brother’s fingernails began to grow. Slowly at first, as the thalergy flow pushed an establishing pathway through to the destination keratin, but then exponentially, and Remus watched with no small delight. He’d practiced on himself, of course, but there was just something incredibly magical about seeing new theories come to life on someone else. Roman was, as always, his favorite necromantic test subject, now and forever and ever and ever.

At one inch long, Roman frowned and bit his lip and pressed his forehead closer to the page, as if in bullheaded insistence that nothing was going on and he just needed to read his book a little bit harder to make absolutely certain of it. This was a dumb idiot move from a dumb idiot man whose brain was smoother and shinier than the hilt of his ruby-embedded sword, and Remus loved him all the more fiercely for it.

At two inches long, Roman frowned deeper, and reached up to scratch the nape of his neck. His too-long nails made contact, and he froze and the frown got deeper, like a deep-sea trench caving under pressure. He whipped his hands out in front of them, stared at them and then glared. “Remus!”

Drat and blast; Emperor’s tits, he’d been blown! But not really, it wasn’t the hardest mystery to crack even if your brain had been worn thin by too many Cohort romance novels, and anyway Remus wasn’t even halfway done yet. The nails kept on growing, despite Roman’s hurried frantic attempts to buff them into stillness against the couch cushions, and subsequent even more frantic attempts to bite them off with his teeth, and now they were sprouting at a truly ridiculous rate, curling and creaking all over the place, looking more like long strands of extruded stone than actual bits of human body.

Three inches; four. Remus was delighted. His brother was less delighted. He couldn’t possibly imagine why.

“Remus!” Roman exclaimed again, horror mixing with fury in an exciting cocktail of emotions that Remus decided on the spot to term ‘horrifury’, just for shits and giggles. “For the love of the Emperor, stop messing with my natural bodily functions! Face me on equal footing, brother mine, and stop being a dick about it!”

Remus did not stop messing with his twin’s natural bodily functions, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to stop being a dick about it. Being a dick was his natural state and divine right as Duke of Onnuria and radiant heir to the Fourth House’s necromantic throne, as he so frequently proclaimed at important council meetings (much to everyone’s eternal exasperation). Instead, he increased the rate of growth, and waited for the inevitable to happen.

At six full inches long, the inevitable did happen. Roman went for his sword, and couldn’t manage to get his fingers around the hilt, his fingernails being long and curled and unwieldy and really stupid-looking. Remus took a moment to laugh and point at him, before pelting forward at a dead sprint and launching himself right at the sparkling shining glass that separated them. It didn’t shatter, because it was very well-made glass and they had spent good money on it, but upon his impact the doors burst outwards and he whirled like a dervish into the pale starlight of a muted Fourth morning.

[ms-boogie-man]

No… wrong

However, George Clooney is a CIA operative … true story. His aunt Rosemary also worked for in a government agency… that is how he got in and how he got his career. Clooney is a shill for commies, and I am not even finished researching this smug, arrogant, moron lib-turd.

Speaking of the CIA and the like, did you know that all these government 'alphabet' agencies are Democrat spawned and part of a fascist bureaucracy that was not approved by We the People? Did you know that these agencies are designed to never be abolished, and that positions within those agencies are intended and designed to never be removed? Did you know that Democrats went behind closed doors in DC to pass this garbage, and have bribed, coerced and blackmailed any non-complicit Dems, as well as Republicans? Are people like Ghislaine Maxwell and her lapdog, Jeffrey Epstein, beginning to make more sense now? Did you know that Ghislaine's father, Robert Maxwell, directed designing of the framework for the internet as we know it today? This was done for surveillance purposes. Using a private browser does not hide you on the net, neither does a VPN, anymore. Still like the Dems? Yes? Well, here is some more yo…

Do you think Democrats are telling you the truth and support you when they claim to support your sexuality community?? Your so-called marginalization? How much division would you like with that 'marginalization-burger'??!! How fucking gullible are you — How fucking dumb are you — *those questions are rhetorical… not actually asking *I felt the need to mention that as you believe Democrats

How divided do you want to be from your neighbors? I am a 19-century old daughter of Rome. I am of the House of the Julii Before Rome's legions ever donned a helmet, ever picked up a broad sword, ever formed a column… they went amongst those they wished to conquer and worked to divide them. Pick up an apple, squeeze it. You cannot shmoosh it, no matter how hard you try. Now remove the dagger from the scabbard on your hip, where it should always be, and cut the apple into at least 6 pieces. Now you are ready to do some shmooshing yo… no problem.

But keep listening to divisive Democrats. They were and still are slave owners, and will tell you whatever you want to hear that you will support them. And when they are finished with you, they will chuck you down the ni**er hole just like the story from Django Unchained… just like Josef Stalin did to his people, just Mao Zedong did to his people. And Che Guevara … you should hear what that left-wing monster did to gay men during his reign of terror in Cuba. Fuck him too

"But Angie, the Democrats are not left-wing or far left"

Yes, they most certainly are yo. Ever notice how many hits they keep making on our Constitution? They hate our Constitution. Our Constitution, when adhered to, makes us all equal. Period dot, the end Dems have spent the last 150 years, since signing the Act of 1871… behind closed doors in DC I might add … infringing free speech, gun rights, and the right to peace, freedom and the American way Bring up mass shootings, I have many answers for that Bring up hate speech, I have many, many answers for that Try and debate me on anythingy the Democrats ever do, and I will have a reasonable, logical and common sense answer for you

I am finished here… for now You want to put out garbage on the internet, I will speak my mind in response to it… and do not dare try to cancel or censor me in anyway, or you will have proven my point about the fascism and tyranny of the left. 1st Amendment; freedom of speech, remember —

Angie/Maddie🦇❥✝︎🇺🇸

#george clooney is caca #fauci is caca #Joe Biden always was a knuckle-dragging thug bully #start thinking for yourself

[precureapprentice]

You ever just make the most unhinged character and end up being the brains of the party?

I threw together two things that shouldn't go together, gnome and barbarian, and accidentally created Plop, the barbarian living legend. Perhaps some other day I go into his exploits of shear stupidity in more detail, but for now know he can lift 2700 lbs without slowing down while standing at 3 ft and weighing 48 lbs, married his lance named Matilda before the campaign started, and tried to trademark the phrase "I have a dumb idea"

Plop has a military background as the sole cavalry unit in a small town back when his horse Fred was still around. Using this and only this he's provided some good insight as to the possible plans and tactics our enemy might be using

Beyond this he likes to throw people, bridges, carry the whole party in a chest, a cart, on his back, steal the sword his opponent has tucked inside their scabbard, fought a boss at 1 hp the whole fight as if he wasn't blinded by his own blood and not just his pure fury and stupidity, and once wondered what parts of a centaur were safe to eat without being labeled a cannibal

He's come up with a few named plans, like the Plop Tornado, Plop Totem (got Plop nerfed), and The Pit of Plop (had me doing trigonometry for the first time since highschool)

We have a much smarter monk in the party, but she just sees this little gremlin that can bench press a dragon of reasonable size that can't count to 47 and thinks "this thing is a better tactician than I'll ever be"

[dimonds456]

*sees your tags about being salty about suf spinel*

YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT AND NOT SHARE YOUR SALT /LH

Okay, but I'm warning you, you asked for it.

LONG POST WARNING.

LIKE A REALLY, REALLY LONG POST WARNING.

Dimonds456 Presents: How They Did My Baby Dirty: An SUTM and SUF Analysis on Steven and Spinel (Told by a Progressively More and More Angry Narrator)

THE CONTEXT: There was a post talking about how you think a character will fix everything, but then they wind up making it works. My tags were "#*looks at suf spinel* #I am still salty about that like the bitch I am fghdjskgfa"

Grab some water, guys.

Let's start by talking about Steven for a moment. In the original show, when we were following him as a 12-14-year-old, we watched as he built up trauma and then learned how to hide it expertly well, to the point that most of the audience didn't even realize he was struggling.

You can actually pinpoint the seconds he makes those decisions, too. The best example is in "The Test," when he's storming up to the gems. He's pissed. His fists are clenched, he's got that anime eye shadow overlay on his face, he's frowning, all that. the Crystal Gems are clapping for him and lying to his face, and he KNOWS they are because he overheard them talking about how it was "impossible for him to fail" that test (- Garnet).

And yet... he also overheard them saying that they're just trying their best. They don't know what he needs. They never really have. No one is sure. So, Steven realizes that by picking a fight, he would just be making it worse for them because they would know they messed up, and nothing gets solved, and everyone gets more depressed and Amethyst and Pearl go back to fighting each other and- well, you get the picture. He doesn't have a full understanding of what's going on, so his kid brain went "so I can either be angry at them and cause problems, or I can tell them I did a good job to make them happy."

"I can lie to make them happy."

He storms down there angry, still mulling this decision over. He drops to the floor, frowning and pissed, and says "I can't believe you guys." He is so close to yelling at them, and yet, when he looks up at them...

"That was so... INSANE!"

You never would have been able to tell. It was right there. That moment. And then he never stops. For the ENTIRE REST of the series, he NEVER STOPS. He puts the Crystal Gems above himself every time. Think Rose's Scabbard, The Message, The Return/Jailbreak. The Cluster. Peridot. Dealing with Jasper. The zoo arc (ESPECIALLY the zoo arc). Aquamarine. Then pretty much the entirety of Season 5.

(NOTE: I went back and rewatched that scene for the screenshot. There is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it lip tremble in there too! D,: )

He lives for the people around him, and not for himself. Almost never for himself.

Put a pin in that.

Now, let's look at his maturity. People thought that was just him being mature, right? That he grew up. No. That was not it at all. He was learning from his own behaviors as well as the people around him, and building up this idea that he had to "fight to be everything that everyone wants [him] to be when [he's] grown" (- Steven, the extended intro).

Yes, he matured, but not because of that. He started making various decisions to benefit the group that oftentimes he wasn't fully comfortable with, but something he believed would be better for everyone.

Put a pin in that.

Then, later in Future, we see it all manifest. He is selfless to a fault, to the point that he can't think of himself in a positive light in the sense that he's good. We see it a couple of times, but especially in "Prickly Pair," when he vents to Cactus Steven about everything that happened. He feels useless, which is taking a toll on his mental health.

"Why do I need to be needed?" He needs to be needed because that's everything he was as a kid. His entire IDENTITY rests on his ability to help other people, no matter what happens to him. He literally sacrificed himself for them countless times (the big one of course being the Aquamarine incident), and now as a teenager, his whole sense of self is wrapped up in this need to get up and do something to make the world better.

And when he can't make the world better, his world falls apart.

Put a pin in that.

Now, let's talk about Spinel, the moment we've all been waiting for.

Spinel, as a gem, was made specifically to be a friend. That is her niche, and her purpose. Her reason for existing. At first, she and Pink Diamond got along very well, as shown in the flashbacks right before Drift Away plays (I headcanon she has illusion powers and was literally projecting her trauma, but that's a completely different post).

She and Pink vibed together for who knows how long, until one day, Pink started to not like being around Spinel anymore, finding her annoying and childish. We don't know what really caused the switch, just that it did happen (but of course, I have headcanons for that, too). Spinel never realized until it was FAR too late.

Steven actually describes his younger self as annoying at one point during the Diamond Days arc, when he decides to throw the ball, so I'm legally allowed to make this comparison.

Steven and Spinel were the SAME. They were both young and dumb, and something that at least a few people found annoying. People put up with their BS though, since they cared about them. But, while Steven realized this and matured because of it (or bottled up his emotions, to each their own), Spinel never did. She never matured. She was never given a chance.

In the movie, we saw her as a child, and watched as she played with Pink and never tried to be or do anything else, to the point that Pink Diamond thought to realize she might be struggling (and maybe Spinel didn't, either!).

She lives for the people around him, and not for herself. Almost never for herself.

And when she can't be friends with this one person, her world falls apart.

Sound familiar? It should. I literally pulled from things I said earlier lol.

Spinel and Steven are mirror reflections of each other. Reset!Spinel is 14-year-old Steven, completely devoting her entire self to one idea. Steven's was helping others no matter what, Spinel's was serving Pink no matter what. Spinel is like a combination of 14 and 12-year-old Steven in this sense, honestly. Goofy, without a care in the world, except one thing: the people around her. She would do anything for Pink, just as Steven would do anything for his family.

Now, Pink Diamond left Spinel. We all know this story. She left Spins there in the garden for 6,000 years because she grew more mature and started a rebellion, effectively forgetting about this one gem she kinda stopped caring about standing there.

Personally, I don't think Pink had any malicious or even intentional intent in that, but this ain't about her. This is about how Spinel continued to sacrifice herself for Pink, even when Pink didn't need her to anymore. She wanted to please Pink 24/7, all day every day, to the point she self-sacrificed and stood perfectly still for her for millenia.

Now, back to Steven. The gems don't need him anymore in Future, right? They've all grown up and matured and headed off towards their own futures, effectively stranding him alone in terms of self-identity and self-worth. But he stays there, ready to assist at the drop of a hat, or- in Future's case- the call of a phone.

Episode 6 anyone? The one everyone says shouldn't be in Future? That it should have been cut to allow more focus on Steven himself? The fusion episode? YEAH. THAT. He is running himself RAGGED to try and help others, to give himself a purpose. He is self-sacrificing. (He's a professional, don't worry. /j)

Steven metaphorically planted his feet down and decided that he was going to devote himself to the people around him.

Spinel's feet were literally tied down soon after she made that very same decision.

Okay, enough with the backstory. Time for the salt.

In Future, Steven is at his lowest low. He is running to the Diamonds for help, to see if there is SOMETHING they can do to help him. And we first see Spinel.

Spinel has been through the ringer on a lot of the same mental problems Steven himself is facing. She self-isolated, watched as everyone grew up and left her, and then began to lash out because of it. She understands what he's going through. We even see her concerned as Steven starts to tell her why he's there.

Spinel takes him from Diamond to Diamond, until he's running out of White's room in a blind panic. Spinel is able to catch up with him, and Steven realizes the same. SHE GETS IT. He turns around and says "Hey, you used to have vengeful thoughts!"

Spinel replies "Ohhhhh yeah, but I don't have 'em anymore."

"How did you make them stop?"

She then goes on to sing Change to him, effectively cutting that conversation short.

On paper, that sounds very in-character for her. She's goofy! And that is what worked for her! But the problem is that they had to dumb her down in order to make that character decision work. In the movie, she was shown to be observant and able to put two and two together, even if she often jumps to conclusions (see her being the one to figure out that the gems needed to remember their "pieces," as she remembers the Garden, her re-realizing what Pink did, and her meltdown later when she reactivates the injector).

Spinel is smart. It should have been in character for her to realize that Steven was panicking just as she had been, and needed to be talked to gently. But no. Instead, she starts belting out Change, which given Steven's situation, would not work for him.

At the very least, she would have started doing little tricks or started trying to get him to join a game, which would have taken his mind off of it (to her anyways, that wouldn't have worked either), which then could have prompted further discussion.

Then, once they finally start talking, Spinel could have been able to share some legitimate advise. She was hurt and lashed out. What worked for her was opening up to others and letting them in, learning to trust again (which Steven also has problems with- he can't trust that the Gems won't break down the second he turns his back. Trust does NOT equal love, there is no doubt he loves them to no end), and allowing other people in.

That is what Steven needed, too. He needed to let his guard down and just talk to someone. Sure, Spinel was not going to be a fix-all, but she could have at least offered some insight on what to do.

She UNDERSTANDS him. They are a reflection of each other.

But instead of offering help, Spinel made it worse. She was dumbed down to allow the rest of Future to happen, to make Steven feel even worse. Because- and here's the kicker- because the one person who MIGHT understand him doesn't, that means there's no hope for him.

At least, that's how he sees it. And so, the denial- and "Everything's Fine"- begins.

Here's the thing, though; they DIDN'T NEED to make that decision. If the Crew wanted to have Spinel not understand Steven, then draw the line of her being a Gem from Era 1, used to the Diamonds shattering people.

Steven has killed Jasper and revived her at this point, so maybe Spinel offers that at least he's trying to get better, just like the other Diamonds! See, they're doing so great now! And then that makes him feel worse since he IS trying to do better, but is only failing, while the Diamonds- who were MADE to be nasty dictators- are doing better than him.

The Diamonds shattered a lot of people, and they're doing better than Steven, who has only shattered one person, and not even on purpose. How horrible is that?

Then boom. THERE'S your angst, with a much smarter, more helpful Spinel.

Look, I knew going in that Spinel wasn't going to be able to help. The finale had to happen somehow, and we hadn't seen Wormy Boi yet. I have always been a storng believer of the corrupted Steven theory, so I knew it was bound to happen. But I was hoping that Spinel would at least try. But she really didn't. She just brushed him off, offering really loose advise that didn't even fit his situation and thinking that would be enough.

No. It's not.

I can see where the Crew was coming from. I still love that episode, and I love seeing Spins in it (until that exact moment). This is probably the only thing in SU that genuinely gets me mad. Or, well, maybe not mad, but definitely annoyed and- you guessed it- salty.

I have an unfinished fic where I kinda delve into Spinel's head for that episode called "A New Start". If you really want my thoughts on where Spinel's head was at, there's a bit in there that really explains it. In the fic, Steven decides to rejuvenate himself and brings Spinel along with him, and that's all the context you need for this.

I cannot explain that moment in the climax of the episode, though. Maybe she thought it would make him feel better, or that maybe he really did just need to open his eyes and see the error of his ways (which doesn't make sense, he KNOWS what he did). Maybe she thought that being silly would help somehow.

But you'd think she'd learn from her time with Pink as she grew more annoyed with her, but apparently not. Or maybe she would realize for a second that being loud and annoying was bad. Or maybe she doesn't learn.

Either way, it- and she- was dumb. And they did my baby dirty.

*drops mic and walks away*

[yersina]

okay, hear me out: blacksmith!jaskier.

like, maybe he’s the owner of his own shop (smithy? forge?), maybe he’s apprenticed to someone else—either way, he works in a little town, proooobably somewhere close to kaer morhen?

(sina, you may be saying that this point, jaskier loves to travel! he likes to see new things and meet new people and cause trouble! how could he stand to stay in one place his whole life? not a problem! shopkeepers aren’t confined to their shops, are they? especially if he’s an apprentice. i propose that he takes semi-annual journeys to travel to more far away towns and sell his wares there and maybe chase a few skirts while he’s at it)

so anyway, blacksmith!jaskier. he’s actually more of a jeweler sort of person—he likes beauty, likes art, and while he can see and appreciate the skill it takes to create a sword or a kitchen knife, he doesn’t really find his calling in creating chamberpots. but alas, see: small town, so this is the best place for something approaching an apprenticeship that he can find.

one day, he’s minding his own business in the back of the shop (smithy??), re-sharpening a knife for a nice old lady who dropped it off a day or so ago, when the master blacksmith storms in and gestures for him to get out. jaskier has long since learned that the master blacksmith is a man of few words, so he troops out to the front with no small amount of exasperation and confusion.

and lo and behold, there stands a witcher in his entrance.

“fix it,” he grunts (bc jaskier is, of course, cursed to work only around people who can’t be bothered to string together more than five syllables at once) and drops the literally shattered remains of a sword on the counter.

jaskier stares. dented swords, he’s seen. they’re close enough to a big city that they’ve occasionally gotten the odd knight looking for a cheaper alternative to city-internal smithies. but shattered? and in so many pieces? “i’d really just advise you buy a new sword at this point, good sir,” jaskier says slowly. “i could use this as scrap metal and make you a new one, but it won’t be the same sword.”

the witcher grunts. jaskier waits expectantly for any more input, but only several seconds of silence follow. “great,” jaskier chirps, injecting as much false cheer into his voice as he can. “i’ll just... take that as a yes.”

so he gets the witcher a new sword (a softer alloy this time, and one that hopefully won’t shatter at low temperatures like this one did), deducts the price of the scrap metal from the asking price of the sword, and sees the witcher on his merry (sullen, silent) way.

except the witcher keeps coming back.

jaskier has no idea why—it’s not like they offer services that any other smithy doesnt. all he does is sell the witcher (geralt of rivia, he eventually learns from town gossip) swords, the witcher grunts through jaskier’s admittedly meaningless chatter, and then he leaves. occasionally, he shows up twice in one month (once before a hunt to get his sword repaired, and then once after for the same), and then he leaves.

it’s utterly baffling.

but then theodore moore, the cheapskate bandit who passes through twice a year in order to spend all of his illegitimate money, drowns in the river while he’s stumbling through the forest drunk.

and then people start disappearing.

it takes until the little girl from down the road disappears while she’s picking flowers in the forest for the townspeople to seriously consider the idea of hunkering down and waiting for someone to take care of the problem. jaskier even rides to the nearby city and posts a request for help. maybe geralt will see it.

they spend half a year avoiding the river like the plague, but then people start disappearing from the town square—next to the fountain. then there’s talk of killing the beast themselves, but none of them know what it’s weak to.

when geralt shows up in the smithy one afternoon, white hair brown with dirt and skin smeared with mud, jaskier nearly cries. “thank god you’re here,” he says, and he’d laugh at geralt’s look of confusion if it weren’t for the circumstances. “we have a job for you.”

if he’d thought geralt was a wall to talk to before, it’s nothing when compared to how quickly geralt stiffens and closes off. jaskier didn’t even know that geralt had been slowly relaxing around him until right then, and a pang of regret echoes through him. “what is it,” he says flatly.

“a man drowned in the river last year,” jaskier explains. “and now six people are dead.” when geralt turns around without another word, jaskier has to scramble around the counter and tug him back. “wait, you can’t just leave—people are dying.”

geralt stares at him, unimpressed. “do you want me to kill it from in here?”

oh. jaskier laughs weakly. “of course, how could i have doubted you, master witcher.”

geralt turns to leave again and actually looks a bit annoyed when jaskier holds him fast. “what is it now?”

“i’m coming with you,” jaskier says firmly.

at least geralt doesn’t laugh in his face. “no.”

“look,” jaskier begins, and swears that he sees geralt roll his eyes. “i’m not—trained in combat, per se, but i can strike a few blows. i work with swords for a living! i can be backup?”

“this isn’t a game.” the furrow between geralt’s eyebrows grows the slightest bit deeper, like the world’s tiniest frown. “you could die.”

“i’ll keep out of the way,” jaskier throws in cajolingly. he’s not sure why he’s fighting so hard to join in on an expedition that will very likely lead to his death, but now that he’s started, he may as well go all in.

geralt just grunts and pulls his arm out of jaskier’s grasp, but he doesn’t do anything to stop jaskier when he grabs a sword and a scabbard and follows on his heels.

(this is where geralt wows jaskier with his fancy silver sword, and jaskier hardly needs to do anything other than gape on the sidelines as geralt dispatches theodore moore—a drowner now, he reminds himself—with brutal efficiency)

jaskier ends up arguing for higher pay for geralt bc of course he does, and manages to get geralt to sit down for a pint of ale in the tavern. jaskier travels but he doesn’t travel, and although geralt isn’t the best conversationalist, he does have some tales.

this ends with jaskier puzzling his way around making a silver sword and maybe getting a mage to imbue it with some magical runes or whatever it is that they do in their ivory towers, and he presents it to geralt the next time he comes by. geralt, being geralt, doesn’t do much else than take it with him while he’s leaving, but jaskier sees it strapped to his back the next time he stops by in the town, and geralt actually asks him to repair it at some point (!!) which is not smth that he’s ever done before.

geralt also starts bringing jaskier things which jaskier is utterly delighted by because it means that geralt has been paying attention while jaskier rambles at him the few times that they manage to sit down in the tavern together. this continues on for years and years and jaskier steadily grows fonder and fonder until he has a Realization one day when he’s looking at a sunflower and thinking abt how it matches the color of geralt’s eyes that goddamn he’s in love with a witcher.

(my Actual Prose runs out here but i’m envisioning jaskier putting those jeweler skills to use in fashioning geralt useful but also pretty pieces of jewelry as courting gifts until one day jaskier is just like “god you’re so fucking dumb” and just kisses him happily ever after the end)

[justanotherpjofan]

Second part of memory less Cale... Sorry I'm bored

As far as Eruhaben could see there was something blocking Cale's mind, like a gray fog that cloud over every time Cale tried to remember something.

Raon gasp "Goldie is right, there some kind of mist on our good but dumb human's mind"

On turned her head towards Cale, if it was related to fog maybe she could do something about it.

Cale was still confused he didn't understand what was happening and the head ache that he was having did nothing to help either.

"What are you talking about?" He said while looking at the man with long golden hair trying to get some answers, at least he seemed to know more than the others.

"First let's see how much you remember, who are you?" Instead of answers he was faced with more questions.

He really tried, but he couldn't think straight every time he thought that he knew anything at all his mind just shut down leaving him at a blank state, after several minutes he gave up, he felt like his head would explode.

"I don't know" was the best answer he could came up with.

Nobody question him any further, all of them could see the sweat on his forehead, and a hint of pain on his eyes.

"Goldie! can we break the seal?" Raon was feeling anxious, his human's eyes were looking empty.

"I don't think that's a good idea if we mess up we could end up breaking something else along the way"

If they made a wrong move the could end up breaking that unlucky bastard whole mind.

"Better not do that then" Cale said.

'Even without memories Cale is still Cale' everyone thought.

After Cale could stand up the kids volunteer taking him tour around the Super Rock Villa, to see if he remembered anything.

The adults remain at the fith floor deliberating what they should do about this stressing unexpected situation.

"What do you think Eruhaben-nim?" Alberu inquire

"I think it would be better if we try to stimulate his memory, it seems that he still trust us even though he doesn't actually remember us, so it should be fine if we take care of him" he answer a little angry because he was thinking of the only one that could be responsible for this.

"Eruhaben-nim do you think it was the god of death?" Choi Han was already touching his scabbard.

He was pissed, Cale have done many thing to clean up his mistakes and now he dared to mess up with Cale's mind? That bastard was definitely going down.

"Most likely" gold aura was surrounding him, someone dared to mess with his child, and he was mad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile at the Super Rock Villa garden.

"Are you sure this is our house?" Cale had many questions it felt painful to not remember anything but at the same time he was excited, because he was discovering new things he didn't have believed before.

First of all he was filthy rich, he have enough money to have a house underground like this.

Second, apparently he was quite a good person and many people were gather around him because of this, the children he was with were proof of that.

And most importantly he have a family that loved him a lot, they may be not blood related but they genuinely cared about him, that was enough to make him smiled.

"Yes!! is our house good human, you are the owner and brought our family here".

"Our youngest is right, you love to slack around here"

"Right! Right!"

The three children were excited to see Cale smiled that way, it was not his usual scammer smile it was a bright smile something highly unusual on Cale.

"I'm sorry but I have to ask, what are your names?"

Suddenly their excitement died out, 'right he doesn't remember us'

"I'm On and this are my youngest brothers Hong and Raon"

"Yes I'm the great and mighty Raon Miru!"

Cale felt his heart beating fast just by listening to the children, especially with the black blob that now he acknowledged to be a dragon.

Raon that name sounded somewhat familiar, but as soon as he started thinking about that his head started to throb as well, it was difficult to focus, so he asked instead.

"That's a good name, what does it means?"

He could see the child eyes sunk down like he wanted to cry remembering the meaning behind his name.

"It means me, dumb human, they are the words to describe my existence they were made just for me"

'And you were the one who named me' the little dragon wanted to said, but decided it was better if he didn't.

Cale heart was beating even faster, he remembered those words from somewhere.

"Are you alright?" On asked noticing Cale's pale face.

"...Yea... I... I'm fine..." He stutter feeling his heart ache.

I think just one part more or maybe two and that's it, Cale really loves his kids.

[pillow-anime-talk]

get out, you prick.

request ; @yvsevie​: hi, sweetheart! can i request some short scenarios with kise, edawrd, killua and giyuu? i was thinking about situation when they’re in love with girl, and she’s obviously in love too, but they’re too dumb to notice it aaaand once they (boys) see when she’s harassment by an old, pervert man and they’re helping her <3

# tags: scenarios; crush culture; bit of drama; but also fluff; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ryouta kise {knb}, edward elric {fma}, killua zoldyck {hxh} & giyuu tomioka {kny}

author’s note: i love you and only you, zuzia <3

— RYOUTA

“Ryo-kun, I have to go to the toilet, so please, wait for me!” You spoke in a half-whisper tone, then followed the colorful, wall signs. You two were on your way to the stands to watch a basketball game, but at one point you wanted to pee. So you had to apologize to your precious, tall bestie and leave him in the middle of the corridor for a few minutes.

After you washed your hands and improved your hair, you stepped out of the ladies’ public restroom and checked the time on the phone; luckily there is still some time before the game starts, so you could even buy yourself something to eat or drink. However, before you reached the blonde waiting for you again, your way was blocked by an older man. He apologized to you for causing trouble and asked you where the entrance to the grandstand A3 was. You thought for a moment and, looking at the signs, pointed in the right direction.

“Ah, yeah, you’re right. Thank you so much, pretty one.” He smiled, and your eyebrows frowned slightly. “By the way, since you’re here too, why don’t we watch today’s game together?” He asked, touching your shoulder and you took a step back.

“No, thanks. I’m here with someone.”

“Really? I can’t see anyone.” His grip tightened, and you swallowed, wanting to scream for help.

Fortunately, help showed up sooner than you thought it would.

“Any problems, old man?” The stranger turned to insult Kise, but when he saw his wide chest and then looked up to make eye contact with him, he let go of your body and laughed awkwardly. After a while, he left the two of you, and the blonde asked if everything was okay with you. After all, you haven’t been coming back for a long time, and additionally this disgusting situation with a perverted guy... Kise was furious but you assured him that you were fine. “... Okay. Then let’s go and take our seats. Unless, you are hungry... I’ll buy you something tasty.”

“No, no. We’ll eat something after the game. Let’s go, Ryo-kun.” You answered in a soft voice, taking his big, warm hand and walking forward.

His cheeks flushed slightly.

(Yours too.)

— EDWARD

You were waiting next to one of the tall, wooden bookcase, reading the titles of the old books. Your blonde-haired friend was looking for some alchemy book, and you decided to look around the National Central Library, where you were the first time in your life. It was a nice experience, but you wanted Edward to come back to you already because you two were going to go for a walk and then for a picnic outside of town.

After five, long minutes, you heard a low cough, so you turned and bowed gently as you saw the older than you man with the Captain’s badge who stand in front of you.

“What is such a beautiful lady doing alone in the National Library?” He asked with a smile, and you laughed nervously as you looked around for Ed.

”I’m waiting for my best friend. He went looking for some important book for him. I haven’t touched anything, Captain, I just read the titles.” You answered truthfully to which the man nodded.

“I understand, but unfortunately you cannot stay here unattended. I’ll take care of you. So let’s go, miss.” He replied, grabbing your arm, and you stiffened slightly. “If you want, we can talk over tea and a cake.” He added, and you sighed as you looked around once again. Unluckily, you couldn’t refuse anyone with a badge on the shoulder, especially since you were in the Library in Central City.

Thank God, the conversation between you and the stranger Captain reached to the Edward’s ears, who finally found the huge book in a maroon hardcover. He quickly followed the noise and the clatter of shoes, and when he saw your body being led out by the man in the blue long coat, he clasped his hands together and touched the floor, causing a stone fist to pop out of the wall and after a while hit the old guy’s jaw. You opened your eyes wider, then turned away. Before you could say anything, Ed grabbed your hand and ran out of the National Library, laughing under his breath.

“I’m leaving you alone for a short moment and someone wants to take you away from me...” He said in an amused tone, squeezing your smooth hand. “All right, Y/N?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming and saving me, Ed.” You responded warmly, smiling at him, and both his cheeks reddened instantly.

“S-Stupid! Of course I would come and save you! Always!”

— KILLUA 

After defeating six dangerous prisoners, you and five men were locked in a small room as punishment. You felt quite insecure around so many males, but you chose to ignore your own unnecessary thoughts. Kurapika was very polite and totally harmless, and Gon and Killua were totally charming... You were only worried about Leorio and Tonpa’s behavior – the latter you were especially afraid of.

When everyone decided to go to sleep, you chose a place away from everyone; you covered your body with a brown blanket and pressed your face against the pillow you found. Unfortunately, shortly after falling asleep, you felt something touch your waist. You opened your eyes and turned your head, almost squeaking, as you noticed an older man in a blue T-shirt lying next to you.

You felt disgust and your heart beat faster as his hand touched your hip.

“... Kurapika? G-Gon? Killua?” You whispered softly, barely breathing. “Someone help me, p-please.” You added a little louder, but still whispering so as not to wake everyone up at once. Happily, that night (or day because all of you didn’t know what time of day right it was right now), Killua had a light sleep.

Hearing your terrified voice, he quickly opened his eyes and searched for your sleepy figure. Seeing what this disgusting, pervert guy was doing, he got up and came up to you. Then, he grabbed his clothes and threw him against the wall, waking everyone around.

“Y/N, are you okay? I’m sorry, I fell asleep and I didn’t think that would happen.” He muttered in a nervous tone and you sat up shaking your head.

“Don’t apologize to me, Killua. You were tired... but could you...” You started softly, looking away. “Could you sleep closer to me? I would rather sleep with the thought that you are next to me.”

“Yes, sure. I’ll be here. Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled and you breathed a sigh of relief, thanking him in a soft voice and lying back down again, cuddling your head against the soft, white pillow. “... And you, old man, touch her once again and I’ll do with you what I did with Johness before.” He added warningly, looking in the direction of the sore Tonpa, who turned pale at the sound of his serious words.

— GIYUU

You were waiting for your friend next to the souvenir stand, wanting to buy something for yourself and for Giyuu. You noticed a few pretty, fabric pendants, so you chose the two most interesting and asked for them. A sweet, old lady in a peach haori packed them into a paper bag for you, and you were in the process of taking money out of your pocket when you heard a low, slightly hoarse voice.

“I will pay for this, beautiful.”

You glanced to the side and immediately noticed an older man gives grandma some money. You were surprised and stop his actions right away.

“No need, sir. I can pay for it but thank you very much.” You answered with an uncertain smile.

“I insist. As compensation, we can go to dinner at that restaurant.” He pointed his finger towards the little building and you sighed lowly.

“Thank you, really, but I’ll pay myself and I’m not hungry. I’m waiting for someone right now and then, I’ll continue my journey.” You answered a little louder and more confidently, but the older man grabbed your arm, turning your body towards him.

“Listen, sweetie. Don’t deny others their kindness, because you will be alone for the rest of your life, and no lady wants that, I am right?” He asked and you snorted under your breath.

“... Someone said she would be alone?”

You turned and then breathed a sigh of relief when you saw your dark-haired best friend who come back to you. As soon as you handed the old woman the right amount of money, you thanked her with a low bow and then quickly approaching Giyuu, hiding behind his body. The older man who had been harassing you just a moment ago left, muttering something to himself about ‘how rude young women are to men’, and then disappeared into the crowd of people. After a few, short seconds you stood beside the demon slayer and touch his haori while taking out a tiny pendant with the color of your own eyes.

“It’s for you... Lucky item, you know...” You smiled as you tied a string to his belt, next to the scabbard with a sword.

“Thank you, Y/N. Let’s go further. I bought us something tasty, so if you will hungry tell me.” He replied with a soft smile, touching the gift by his finger.

[veliseraptor]

having trouble unsticking my brain from being glitchy as hell so...150 words meme time I guess! sometimes you just Gotta.

pretty much all yi city this time, sorry folks. send me up to three numbers and I’ll write 150 words for each number I get, on your mark get set

1. “You tell me, Xingchen. Seems to me people just make up their own rules and it depends on if they’re powerful enough to back it up.”

“Maybe sometimes,” Xiao Xingchen said after a moment. “But that doesn’t make it right.” 

Xue Yang shrugged. “I’m not saying it does,” he said. “I’m just saying it doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters!” Xiao Xingchen’s voice rose. “It always matters. Whatever others do–” 

“There’s your problem, though,” Xue Yang said. “That’s what fucked you over, isn’t it? What others do. You did what you thought was right and good and what did it get you, huh? What the fuck did it get you?” 

Silence. Xue Yang fell back again, forcing his breathing to even out. Xiao Xingchen was very still, almost frozen. 

“I can’t help their actions. Only my own.” His voice was quiet, though, and Xue Yang could hear the thread of uncertainty. 

“And that turned out so well,” Xue Yang said. (the backyard is full of bones)

2. She was having a hard time looking away from the man in black - the corpse, standing there, staring. She tried to pretend he was a statue. Or a normal person just standing very still. Just Xiao-ge’s friend.

“You don’t need to be scared,” Xue Yang said abruptly. “He’s not going to do anything to you. It’s safe. Watch–” and he walked over to the man in black, reached up, and flicked his nose. A-Qing flinched, but the man didn’t. Xue Yang turned to stare in her direction. “See? Harmless.”

“I’m not scared,” a-Qing said. 

“Liar,” Xue Yang said, but he sort of smiled at her, too. A-Qing didn’t smile back and it sort of stuttered and fell off his face. (the people are gone and the place is empty)

3. He heard a groan and immediately turned toward it, quickening his pace. “My friend?” he called, to no immediate answer. 

“Aw, fuck,” he heard, after a few moments, blurry and pained. He adjusted course slightly and closed what he thought was the last of the distance before crouching down and reaching out. It was a little further than he thought, and his fingertips barely brushed fabric before it vanished. “Don’t touch me,” said the stranger, a sudden and unfamiliar edge in his voice, not quite a snarl. 

He drew his hands back, holding them with his palms up. “It’s only me,” he said. “Xiao Xingchen. Do you remember me?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” said the stranger, but it sounded angry, hostile, and Xiao Xingchen drew back further, something tickling at the edge of his mind like a memory just out of reach. (Bedrest)

4. “So,” he said, and then realized he didn’t really know what to say next. Xue Yang watched him with a look of wide-eyed innocence that said he knew Xiao Xingchen was struggling and wasn’t going to help him. A spark of annoyance had Xiao Xingchen pressing his lips together.

“So what do you do when you’re not…”

“Getting scraped off the road by nice boys?” Xue Yang said with a crooked smile, and Xiao Xingchen’s face heated up a little.

“I assume that’s not how you spend most of your time.”

“Not usually, no,” Xue Yang said. “Maybe I should try it more often, though.” (Redux)

5. Xue Yang laid out his sleeping mat and stretched out on the floor. He pulled out Xiao Xingchen’s soul, cupping it in his hands, then rolled to his back and put it on his chest.

“What would you say if you were here?” he asked. “You’d probably talk about how sad it was, or something. You’d want to try to lay everything to rest. Fix the whole Burial Mounds all by yourself. That sound about right, Daozhang?” He toyed with one of the tassels, listening to the wind outside.

“We could do that, if you came back,” Xue Yang said. “I mean, I don’t really want to and I don’t think there’d be any point but if you said you wanted to I’d be fine with giving it a go.” 

Nothing. The wind howled through the dead trees and Xue Yang caught, just at the edge of hearing, the sound of someone screaming. He cocked his head to listen better, but there were no words in it. It sounded like pain, though. The nasty kind that made you stop thinking about anything but wanting it to stop.

It melted away. (a symphony for the departed)

6. “Lianfang-zun doesn’t get rid of useful things, and I guess he thinks you’ll be useful. Makes sense to me. You’re supposed to be the best doctor in the world, right? Other than Baoshan Sanren, I guess, and who knows if the stories about her are true.” 

“How am I supposed to be useful?” Wen Qing asked.

“Beats me. If I were you I’d think of something, though. What do you know about what Yiling Laozu did to your brother?” 

Wen Qing’s heart stuttered. A-Ning, she almost said, what do you know about what’s happened to a-Ning, tell me-

She said nothing. Xue Yang’s mouth twisted a little.

“You’re not very chatty, are you,” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed. (fall apart, destroy, release)

7. “Go rest,” she said quietly. “You clearly need it. But I expect to see you in four days to report on your recovery.” Xue Yang started to make a face, and she added, “there might be something sweet for you.”

Xue Yang brightened, smile firming up briefly before it vanished in yet another yawn. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Whatever you say, jiejie.” He blinked sleepily, and then said abruptly, “I’d miss you too. If anyone did anything to you I’d string them up with their own guts.”

It was probably a bad sign that she was touched rather than unnerved. (this world is gonna break your heart)

8. Xiao Xingchen didn’t eat dinner. 

He didn’t even open his eyes to look at it. Ignored it, and Xue Yang, like he wasn’t there at all and it itched at him, sent his temper sour, and very briefly he almost said I guess I should’ve just let you die then but it didn’t make it as far as his throat before he choked on it. 

No. Things might be bad right now but dead was...if Xiao Xingchen’d killed himself it would’ve been really hard to bring him back, it’d take forever and there was always a chance it wouldn’t work. It probably would’ve, because Xue Yang was a fucking genius but still wasn’t worth the risk. 

It was so quiet. Xiao Xingchen wasn’t talking and Xue Yang wasn’t talking to him either because he’d just get pissed off again if he did, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to the dumb brat’s noise until it wasn’t there anymore. (xxc survives and it isn’t fine)

9. I am not a dead thing, Song Lan said tightly, though questions were boiling up more quickly than he could ask them. Xue Yang glanced at him, brief and scathing.

“Yeah, you are,” he said. “Did you forget that part where you’re dead, Zichen? Cause I can think of a few ways to remind you if you need it.” 

I’m not a thing, Song Lan amended. Xue Yang snorted.

“Sure,” he said. “If you want. But a corpse is just a piece of meat in the end. You’re just smarter than most.” 

Song Lan’s left hand tightened around Fuxue’s scabbard. He wished it was around Xue Yang’s throat. (Walking Far From Home)

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Following a prompt by @frances-the-red here, who said she required “whump, a sexy bath scene and a sword fight”. All in one, you say? Why, yes. 

Have “And the scars don’t write a song for me at all” (not a line from a Blind Guardian song, surprise!). It was quite easy because I already had an unused bath scene from an abandoned fic, that I just polished a bit and removed the smut. The rest is just the usual nonsense. 

4300 words, mild Violence warning. Read it under the cut or on AO3.

   Geralt awoke to find the bed was empty next to him. The room was dark, curtains still drawn. It was not unusual for Emhyr to rise with the sun's first rays, the early birdsong being his wake-up call. It was certainly very early; still, Geralt sensed it was not dawn yet. He got up, wrapping the blanket around his body. He'd made it a habit of sleeping naked in the palace – where not only the fireplace but also his husband regularly warmed him. Yet it was still winter, and the mornings were chilly. A quick tug on the curtains confirmed that there was time yet before dawn. The blackness of the night only slowly faded into a softer gray, illuminated at this hour only by a few lights from the city below.

Slowly he crossed the room, the coolness of the stone floor a sharp contrast to his body, still warm from sleep. The adjoining chamber door was open, and there he found Emhyr's silk robe hanging over a paravent. Behind it, unusually for the early hour, a bathtub was steaming with hot water. Emhyr's eyes were closed, but he seemed anything but relaxed: his arms were leaning on the edges of the tub, the fingers of his right hand playing an impatient little concert on the wood.

"You overdo it with cleanliness," Geralt remarked.

Emhyr opened his eyes, and Geralt was greeted by an amber glow so similar to his own. There were moments when Emyhr's eyes took on the color of ripe hazelnuts, but not now, not at this hour.

"I didn't want to wake you," he returned. "It helps me think."

"Contemplating before the sun rises? What's bothering you so much?"

"Come here," Emhyr said instead of an answer, and his hand underlined his words with a restless gesture.

That was a demand quickly obeyed. Geralt soon found himself pulled down, a firm hand on his neck and persuading lips on his own. After this passionate morning greeting, Geralt's voice sounded a bit rough.

"I'm not going to complain, but..."

"You know what I'm thinking about."

Geralt actually knew. The latest intelligence reports had led Emhyr to tighten security around Vizima. They seemed to be mere rumors for the time being, but their prolonged absence for the wedding in Nilfgaard seemed to make some local factions believe the emperor had developed a weakness. Not merely a weakness for a certain witcher, but perhaps a waning interest in strategy and political calculation, at least in the short term. In this, they were wrong, and Emhyr by no means took the flashing little skirmishes here and there lightly.

"Join me," Emhyr said, holding out his hand. "Make sure I don't think about it, if that's what you want."

The invitation sounded almost like an order, not to the witcher, but the husband. If it was, it was easy to follow, and Geralt stripped off the blanket. He bent over Emhyr in search of another kiss, and the firm grip on his neck resumed. Lips as hot as the rising steam met his, and for a while, the world shut down.

The steam seemed to cloud Geralt's senses – their lips parted, but Emhyr's face appeared to him as if he would look through a fog. He still felt his hand on his neck, and the grip seemed to get stronger. Then, he did not understand how it happened, the pressure became even harder, pushing his head under water. It was much less warm than expected, and the sudden immersion was a shock. Only reflexes and an immediate instinct prevented him from swallowing water. It was impenetrable to his eyes, far too dark, far too unreal. Some part of him refused to comprehend what was happening. His arm shot up, his hand searching for a hold but finding none.

It's a dream, he thought, a dream, a nightmare, and I will wake up soon.

But if this was a dream, why did he feel the air escaping from his lungs? Suddenly, the water dissolved into murky darkness. Now, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Was he floating or lying on the ground? Part of this felt like a memory that was slightly off.  Slowly the darkness gave way to an unreal gray, and Geralt realized that his eyes were still (or again?) open. Sounds kicked in as if all of his senses suddenly remembered how to work. There were unfamiliar voices, smells, and feelings. No, not all of this was unfamiliar. There was something his mind needed a moment to recognize... a sensation, sharp and hot and throbbing.

    Pain. A feeling he knew – and an excellent instrument to come back to reality. Then, light. Now his eyes were able to focus: there was a wooden ceiling above him, small golden reflections of sunlight dancing on it. A house, a hut, maybe. He focused on the pain. The cause was not hard to find: an arrow sticking out of his right thigh. Moreover, his gaze fell on shackles on his wrists. Handcuffs, not a simple rope. Someone wanted to make absolutely sure that he would not free himself so quickly. In two ways, because his quick inventory told him something else: the arrowhead had been soaked in poison, and that was still inside him. Poisoning a witcher wasn't easy, but apparently, whoever had done it knew what to do.

His accelerated heartbeat and temporarily decreased breathing – a feeling that had manifested itself in a dream or hallucination – were clear evidence. The memory had been buried under the poisoning effects, but now he remembered this morning clearly. The actual events had been much more pleasant. They had made love impetuously on the damp floor next to that tub. Later, the breakfast had been interrupted by a messenger, asking for the witcher's urgent help. Should that have made him suspicious? The forests around Vizima were usually spared from any monsters. According to the vague description, it could have been anything from wraiths to a lost troll. He had not become wary, had followed his damned sense of duty, and walked right into a trap.

That part was still a bit blurry, but a surprising noise, a handful of guys looking like vagabonds, and a sudden arrow in his thigh definitely had something to do with it. Here he was, once again, a tied-up package somewhere in the wilderness, a victim to his own good-naturedness. Or dumbness, he thought, observing the handcuffs closely. At that moment, a crooked door opened, letting in more light than was comfortable for Geralt's eyes.

"Oh well, look at that, our princess is no longer slumbering."

A sleazy guy entered, a whole head shorter than Geralt, from head to toe the type of obnoxious order-taker that Geralt was pretty sure lacked the intelligence to come up with such a bold plan. He was right. Pushing past the guy was a taller man, beefy and bald, with a rather ugly scar from his right ear to his shoulder. Did someone ever try to chop your head off? thought Geralt incoherently. Dark eyes under bushy eyebrows regarded the witcher with due suspicion. Far more conspicuous, however, was the sword scabbard at the man's hip. For Geralt would have recognized the weapon's handle in it anywhere - it was his own, the silver sword. Of the two they had taken from him, it was by far the more valuable, and Baldy must have decided to keep it.

"Faster than I thought," he said.

His companion appeared slightly nervous.

"We still have a bit of that stuff, shall we..."

"We don't want to kill him," the other cut him off. "I already thought he'd suffocate; that's too risky on me."

"If it somehow matters that I survive, it would be quite useful to remove this poisoned arrow," Geralt replied nonchalantly, if a bit hoarsely.

He noticed a sour taste in his mouth. Somewhere, sometime, he must have vomited up some of the poison, but it had not helped much. Apparently, they had made sure that he did not choke on it, which also indicated that they wanted him alive, at least for the moment. From then on, it was easy to put two and two together. Ridiculous that he had fallen for it, but not the first attempt of this kind.

"Let that linger as long as possible," Baldy said, deadpan. "If you ever get back to your pretty palace, someone can cut that thing out for you."

The "if" was striking.

"You've already calculated that there might be no ransom, but you still came up with the insane idea of kidnapping a witcher," Geralt said calmly. It wasn't even a question.

"But one that seems to mean quite a bit to our new ruler," the bald one returned. "And look, all it took was a well-aimed arrow and some poison."

In other words, an element of surprise that didn't come to many. Geralt knew how amazed people like this were when they found out that witchers also ended up bleeding like ordinary people. Maybe not as long and not as persistent, but the bastard was right: an arrow and a bit of poison had been enough. Of course, it wasn't always quite that simple, but chance and luck had played into these guys' hands.

"Well, we'll see if we can capitalize on our catch, won't we? The swords, the dagger, and what we found in your pockets are probably compensation enough, should that not be the case. And if I don't need you in the end, I'll pull that pretty ring off your finger and have it melted down in Mahakam."

With these words, Baldy turned back to the door, pushed his accomplice out, and both disappeared. Gotta give him credit for having guts, Geralt thought. A bit of a megalomaniac, perhaps, but what did he have to lose? For scum like him, peacetime had little to offer. So why not stack up a little? Quite possible that they weren't even looking for a ransom now that they had valuable witcher weapons, which would fetch quite a bit in shady auction houses. Perhaps they had also concluded that the matter was too big in the end. They certainly didn't want to risk the army getting on their trail. Even Baldy could not be so shrewd as to believe that he was slipping through the fingers of the emperor's expected wrath. Whatever they were up to, they made a typical mistake: underestimating a witcher was never a good idea. And firing an arrow in his leg and tying his hands was not nearly enough. Neither was Geralt the princess they took him for, nor did he need rescuing.

Trying to sit up, he felt a bit dizzy. There was still poison inside his system; there would be until the arrow was removed. It was tempting to do it right now, and he could have done it even with cuffed hands. But without any knife, it was a gruesome business, and a painful one. As he could get a closer look now, he noticed the tip stuck quite deep in his thigh. He would do too much damage if he just ripped it out, so he focused on the shackles first. Solid steel with a short chain. No big deal, Geralt had learned such things as a boy. Lambert, Eskel, and he had always tried to outdo each other in their numerous attempts to escape from handcuffs. Vesemir had had to rescue one of them time and again, chained to all sorts of objects. Lambert once almost strangled himself when he was desperate to prove that he could free himself by hanging one-handed from the stair railing in Kaer Morhen.

Geralt shook his head. Not the right moment for merry (or rather not) reminiscences. If they had tied his arms behind his back, things wouldn't have been quite so simple, but they hadn't bothered. So Geralt only had to patiently twist the chain's individual links into each other until they locked. When that happened, he braced himself against the inevitable pain and pulled his hands apart with all his might. As expected, the metal broke after a few seconds, and his hands were free. He had no way to remove the remains from his wrists, and Geralt could already vividly imagine Emhyr's comments on this. This only spurred him on, so he looked for a hold on the wall behind him to carefully prop himself up.

Finally, he stood, painful as it was, but now he was able to assess the little window. He peered out cautiously from the side. Outside, he saw a handful of horses, their reins thrown loosely over the rickety remains of a fence. Roach was not among them. Smart girl, he thought. Didn't let yourself get caught. The guys outside had no idea that the soldiers were probably already closer to them than they thought – Roach knew her way back, as any horse in danger would seek refuge in its home stable. Slowly, Geralt limped to the door and listened, letting his senses wander. Most likely, one of them was standing right next to the door. One last time, he glanced at the arrow in his leg. The wound was bleeding again, but there was nothing he could do about it now. All he could do was take advantage of the element of surprise, as they had done with him. Oh, they would be in for a surprise.

With a jerk, he wrenched open the door, gaining a split-second overview. There were only five. Four sleazebags with Baldy as their leader. To the right of the door stood the little guy who had come in first – apparently Baldy's right-hand man. He was carelessly playing around with a sword, weighing it in his hands, observing it. It was part of the loot, Geralt's steel sword. In an instant, it was back in his possession: he rammed his elbow into the guy's face, whereupon the jaw cracked. Completely surprised, the man was not even capable of a scream, and in one fluid motion, Geralt grabbed the sword before it went to the ground like the bandit.

A little commotion broke out among the remaining members of the small band of robbers, and already the bravest among them pounced on Geralt. He attacked with a dagger. Geralt felt a series of small nerve jolts, a tingling sensation that rose up inside him, hardening his muscles. It was anger, he realized. For this was his dagger, not just any weapon; a particularly beautiful piece, pure silver, decorated with a wolf's head on the handle. It was a gift from Emhyr, and the thought that this was the second time somebody tried to steal it from him only fueled his rage. To take this away from him, like they wanted to do with the ring, his fucking wedding ring... It made him forget how tedious and painful it was to move with the arrow still stuck in him. He dodged the attack with a single side step, and the sword drove through the flesh of the assailant as if he were flaying a rabbit.

The bald one still held back, staying in the background, Geralt's sword loosely in his hand. He would not make it easy for him, but he let his comrades run to their doom without hesitation. In the end, they were all the same. Their idea of witchers was vague, almost mystical, but they were all eager to find out if there were any human traits beneath the legends. But then, when they lay in their blood, they whimpered for their pitiful lives, as if to conjure up any humanity they had denied the witcher. 

If they wanted animal instincts, they could have just that. As far as some things were concerned, Geralt had all too human traits, and he didn't hesitate to take his anger out on them, even if it was basically ridiculous, almost childish. He could nearly hear Emhyr's voice in his head, "Those are just objects," he would say. But they weren't, not for him. And he didn't kill the men, he wasn't vengeful and not half the monster they probably took him for.

Number three had his own (well, probably stolen) short sword, but Geralt made short work of him. Soon after, the fourth one also lay in the dust with his eyes wide open, clutching his shoulder with one hand, as if he still couldn't believe where the guy with the arrow in his thigh had gotten the speed and agility from. Geralt was running on pure adrenaline now, and while it would have been a waste to use any potions on these blokes – if he still had them – it wouldn't have hurt to have some now, as his movements seemed to ram the arrow only deeper into his flesh. The remnants of the poison still made him a bit dizzy, and every step was a sharp knife into his leg.  

But now only Baldy was left, and he would soon realize, just like the others, what it meant to mess with a witcher. The guy was either stupid or pretty confident of himself because his nasty face showed no fear. He swung the sword loosely in his hand, a boastful swagger; however, it did not catch. Geralt just stood there, perfectly still, his body balanced so that he put as little weight as possible on his right leg, but ready to do so should it be necessary. They always underestimated one thing: that he was willing to fight through anything, even pain.

"It would be better just to leave now. There's still time," he said against his better judgment. "There's nothing more to gain here."

"But I don't have anything left to lose either, do I?"

A swift, deft advance followed the words. But Baldy tried a blow from above – powerful but predictable, even more so for an experienced swordsman. Geralt ignored the stinging pain in his leg as he took a small step to the right, parrying the blow with his sword held to the side. His quick counterattack was textbook, but in that case, Baldy was trained from it as well – he rolled off the inevitable blow and was back on his feet in no time.

The arrow still secreted a little poison; Geralt felt his body reacting to it. He was slower than usual, his reactions stiffer than necessary, but he doubted his opponent suspected that. He still seemed to think that his injury should stop the witcher. That he would have an easy time of it. But he was wrong. Lunge, feint, and thrust came in quick succession, forcing his opponent to dodge. Despite his rather massive stature, the man was not unskilled, and at some point in his miserable life, he must have learned not only how to hold a sword correctly but how to use it. He did not make the mistake of permanently hitting Geralt's sword, as many untrained fighters did. That only cost strength and brought a somewhat acceptable result only with equal opponents anyway.

Baldy searched for gaps in Geralt's defense (he found none), and when that proved fruitless, he began to try to disrupt his balance with powerful blows. Aiming for the legs seemed to be a reasonable tactic since it was clear that Geralt was dragging his leg. So he aimed at the left one to force him to put more weight on the injured right. It would have worked for anyone else, but not with a witcher. Instead, Geralt turned the tables and permanently shortened the distance between them. He parried the attacks with quick counterattacks, pushing Baldy back, coming closer and closer to him. And the latter reacted precisely like a stressed student who had mouthed off and dared to challenge the master.

The only thing left for him to do was to back away, yet all around the shabby old hut was nothing but forest. So if he didn't want to trip or run backwards into a tree, Baldy was forced to turn an attack into a counterattack. But he lacked the time and skill to do so, and that was his downfall. For a second, he frantically looked behind him to scan the surroundings. That was enough for Geralt to advance. Once again, a tremendous pain shot through his leg as he, both hands on the handle, performed an arcing motion. Once again, he ignored it, and what his attack lacked in apparent elegance, experience and instinct made up for. Strength alone was not the key. Baldy learned that like hundreds before him. Geralt's sword struck him just below the right shoulder, piercing the leather jerkin, causing the overzealous bandit to stumble. Even as he pulled out the blade, Geralt kicked him hard in the stomach. With a surprised gasp, the wannabe abductor went down.

Geralt grabbed the sword in Baldy's hand – his sword – and wrestled it out of his wrist after a brief struggle. He resisted the impulse to give the guy another kick and turned, shifting his weight back onto his left leg. The desire to get rid of the damned arrow became overwhelming. He looked at the horses - decent animals; he could just take one of them. Somehow he would get through the ride back. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was. He glanced up to at least approximate the direction. The sky was clear, but thunder could be heard in the distance. Geralt blinked, almost disoriented for a moment. The adrenaline in his body stopped working. The last remnants of the poison had not yet disappeared, dizziness set in, and his leg almost gave way.

It was not thunder. Something, still far away, but on a direct course in their direction, was approaching. For a moment, he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice that Baldy – amazingly still conscious, though losing copious amounts of blood – grabbed his ankle. Pure instinct ensured that he did not instantly go down and that he noticed the slender knife in the other's hand in time. A quick movement of his sword, which was still in his hand, was enough, and Baldy's pathetic little attack went into the dust with his knife.

He cursed, rage in his hate-filled eyes, and Geralt finally had enough. He turned his sword, the hilt pointing down, and took a short swing. But Baldy's hand was still on his ankle, and in a last desperate moment, he pulled hard. Weakened by everything that lay behind him, Geralt now actually began to falter. Bad luck for Baldy, because as he fell, his sword hilt hit the latter right at the wound Geralt had caused him, and he howled and rolled his eyes.

Then Geralt went down on his knees, and that in turn was his bad luck. The pain was so overwhelming that he nearly fainted on the spot. No longer able to keep his balance, he fell forward. Although he reflexively stretched out a hand, he could not prevent the new impact. The arrow bored deeper into his thigh than before. There wasn't even enough breath for a scream. The world turned into fire. But the red flames before his eyes changed to black almost instantly, and he went limp.

    This time, he didn't open his eyes right away when the world returned – or rather, when he returned into it. His senses kicked in one by one, gently, as if he had been asleep for just a moment. He heard the soft crackling of a fireplace from somewhere, and beneath him, he perceived the familiar feeling of smooth sheets. The gentle smell that hit his nose – tart, a little juniper, a little oakwood – made it finally clear where he was. Still, his eyes remained closed just a little longer. There were cool fingers on his much too warm forehead. Something moist stroked over his brow and cheeks, and that felt nice.

"You drowned me in the bathtub, you know," he said, and he felt as if he could almost hear Emhyr's frown.

Now he opened his eyes, but if he had thought the dark eyes above him would look puzzled, he was disappointed.

"You're feverish, Geralt. Be still."

Now that was typical of Emhyr, to tell him off like that although he had almost killed him. Geralt frowned and tried to focus.

"No, that was before. This morning or whatever. You drowned me in the bathtub. Why would you do that?"

Emhyr looked worried for a moment, not sure how to respond. It was not too serious an injury, and the court sorceress had assured him that there was no residue left of the poison. Emhyr had experience with an injured, unconscious, and disoriented Geralt, but little with one who accused him of attempted murder in a fever. He set aside the cloth he had been using to cool Geralt's forehead, brushed a sweaty strand from his face, and gently replied, "I assure you, I have not and will never drown you."

Geralt grinned broadly.

"I thought you were going to say, at most, you'll drown me in your..."

"Don't you dare."

"... love?"

If that was possible, his grin only widened. Emhyr shook his head, let out a small sigh, and maybe the corners of his mouth turned up a very tiny bit.

"You won't remember it in a few hours anyway, but fine, on my account, I'll drown you in love. You're an idiot, you know."

"Yours?"

Emhyr sighed once again. Then he leaned forward, breathed a kiss on Geralt's hot forehead, and replied firmly, "Mine."

And that, Geralt thought before a much more restful sleep overcame him, is probably the most pleasant way to drown.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

@the-only-gamer-gost‘s WritingTober Day 10: Practice Tangentially

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

One day the twins would need to learn how to trade in Port.

Their parents took one look at their pink haired son hanging up his sword and scabbard on the edge of the cart, and sent the brunet to grab his uke for the journey. Sending the blond to help his father out in the fields.

- - -

On the morning’s ride to Port the two brother talk. They don’t get to do that often. Just talk. The older ever the hard worker at all hours of the day. The younger spending every moment with his twin.

The brunet liked talking with his older brother because he could just talk. He could just talk on and on and on. Rambling about anything and everything that comes to mind. He likes it. He likes not getting interrupted every second for his twin to add his two cents. He doesn’t mind when his twin does that. Truly. But it’s nice to just talk for a bit.

And his brother is so nice about it. It really seems like he listens. And even when he spaces out, he can still pick up his side of the conversation whenever he leaves some empty silence.

His brother only talks when he takes a breath. When he pauses. When he leaves room for him to add something. And he doesn’t look like he wants to add much. He seems content with just listening to his baby bro talk.

It’s really weird. His brothers are two ends of the spectrum when it comes to him talking.

Of course during the trip, the pinket takes time to explain the basics of Port. How they have five sellers that they trade with. How they have to do some manual labour to get the stock onto the boats.

The boy listens. He absorbs. He’s excited to learn. He’s excited to be around his brother whom he loves dearly.

- - -

When the brother’s disembark from the cart, he leaves his uke with the sword, and jumps down to the docks. He stands a foot behind his brother as he talks to the man in front of them.

He’s not listening, he’s become enraptured by the boats. His brother had to tap his arm to get him to move and start loading stock onto side boat.

They go from seller to seller all afternoon. Loading the boats, unloading the cart. His body starts to hurt from all the moving. He gets now why his brother is so strong. And he moves everything around the farm as well. Maybe he’d offer to help in the future.

- - -

The boy had brought extra food for them, but they had eaten it at lunch, and he was hungry again. He told his brother as much.

They maneuvered the horses to the stables where they would stay the night. Wheeling the cart into a corner. “Grab your uke,” the pinket told him. Putting on his red coat with a flourish, attaching his scabbard above it.

- - -

They walked through Por, stopping at a sandwich place to grab a bite. Then wandering through the market. That’s when he heard the music. The hum of a guitar.

On whipped his head to his brother, question in his eyes. Once he got the nod he was off. Running passed the colourful stalls. Mesmerized by the music, he stopped a couple feet away.

The guy started singing. He had a really nice voice. And the fresh bread smell filling the air was calming.

Oh, I love this little street corner.

He didn’t notice his brother until he heard the sound of coins dropping onto each other.

- - -

When the guy was finished his song he looked at them. “Hello friend smile.”

“You know him?”

“Yeah.” His brother addressed the guy, “You don’t mind looked after him for a little bit?”

“Not at all. I love an audience.”

“But do you mind looking after him?” he repeated.

The guy looked confused for a few seconds. Glanced between him and his brother, before nodding his head. “Nah, I won’t mind looking after him for a bit.” Questions obvious, but not asked.

“Cool.” His brother ruffled a hand though his hair. “I’m going to the store over there,” he said before walking in the direction of the bread smell.

- - -

The musician takes in the timid boy left in his charge. “You know any songs?” Gesturing to the uke held at his side.

“Yeah.”

“Wanna play me something?” he probs.

“Sure!” He starts to play a couple chord. Building confidence until he’s full out jamming and singing along with the dumb lyrics Tommy came up with on the fly that one time.

- - -

The pinket walks right up to the counter of the Sweet Shoppe & Bakery. He orders a baguette, startling the dancer working quietly away at her homework.

“Hello to you too.” She went about grabbing the order item for him. “Full or half?”

“Full. I gotta share with my little brother outside.”

“Your little brother? I didn’t know you had a little brother.”

“Have. He’s still alive.” He leans back to look out the window. Just to check. HE trusts the musician outside, but he doesn’t really know him does he? “Hey, so your mother said that she wouldn’t mind if I took up the share room right?”

“She did say that.” The dancer slides over the bread. “Why?”

“The place I normally stay won’t be too happy with him running around. You sure your mother won’t mind.”

“She won’t mind at all. She loves you.”

“She likes me,” he said with a smile, dropping the amount of coin necessary on the counter. “If she loved me she’d have nothing left to give to the kid.”

The dancer smiles, going into the back. “You fight tonight?”

“Dueling. And yes. I’d rather him here alone than at the hole the in wall I normally stay in.”

“Mom truly won’t mind,” she says handing over a key. “It opens the back. And I think you should give him the option to come with you.” She also looks out the window at the two string players. “He seems older than when you first went to the club.”

“Heh, Bandana tell you somethin’?”

“Maybe.”

He clipped the key to the leather cord hidden beneath his shirt sleeve. “I will, but he might not want to. Now the other one? I wouldn’t even ask him. I’d prepare myself to be holdin’ him back from jumping into the ring.”

She covered her mouth to hide her giggling, turning to help he next customer that had just walked in.

- - -

He was having fun with the street musician, when he brother put some bread in his peripherical vision. He snatched the food and chomped on it happily.

“I’m off to the club. Doing some dueling. I don’t know id you wanted to come wi-”

“Of course I do! You’ve been taking home a sword for years and I’ve never seen you use it.”

“You don’t practice?” the Port-born asked, taking the offered carbs.

“I’m a little busy.”

“But you’re so good! Imagine how god you’d be if you practiced.”

“Well, I used to only come once every few months. And now I come every week. That’s practice right?”

“So that’s how you got so much better to quickly. You were actually sparring.”

“Yep.”

- - -

He walks between his brother and the musician. The musician doesn’t spar, but he likes to watch. And his brother seemed calmer when he offered. And to be honest, he felt safer with him.

People kept talking to his brother. He had different ways of interacting with each of them. Some got a few words. Some got a nod. Some got nothing at all. Some got the promise of a duel later on in the night, but that was like one guy.

He gets a couple of looks. But if the musician’s disbelief at his brother not practicing (ever. period) then he should have expected it.

- - -

He sat with the musician in the front row of the bleachers.

He was glad for the musician. He would have felt so lost and alone in his crowd if he didn’t have someone. And now that he thinks about it, he probably wouldn’t see his brother fight either. He’d be stuck to his side making sure nothing happened to him. If the way he kept glancing back at the two of them said anything.

He kept getting dragged into conversations, duels, interactions. Clearly not wanting to be there, but too polite to rip himself away from the conversation.

- - -

He couldn’t decide whether to sit back in awe, or lean forward and pay attention to his brother’s every move. His brother was good, really good. He won every battle he took part in. And unlike everything else, everyone he fought against was still in good spirts when they lost.

Well there was one guy. But after a rematch that was over in three moves, he admitted defeat.

The only other person that people seemed to not mind losing to had a bright green tunic.

It’s like everyone expected to lose to these two. Like they just wanted to say that they fought them.

- - -

“Tired yet?” his brother asks, coming up before him.

“Now that I think about.”

“Well. I’m gonna regret this. You wanna go for a round?”

He lit up. “Yes! But who would I fight against?”

“Me of course. Don’t rust anyone else here?”

“Hey, what about me?”

“You are not sparing my little brother Sandy.” His brother turned to the new voice.

“Brother he looks nothing like you?”

“It’s the hair isn’t it?” he asks jokingly. “He’s the pink sheep of the family.”

“Do you want to be able to one up your twin, kid?”

[yamujiburo]

tagged by @queenof-evil-blogging

Pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions!  Don’t look at them first. Then tag some people.

Pokemon

Jimmy Neutron

The Amazing World of Gumball

Steven universe

My Little Pony

Who is your favorite character in 2? 

Carl Wheezer!!! My boy!!! Most people either love or hate Carl and Sheen but they were the best part of the show for me. I like how he’s kinda the nerdy trope but actually not (he’s really dumb). The voice acting for him is A+, the gags with him are my FAVORITE (“that’s not mine...” “that’s not me”). God I love him

who is your least favorite character in 1? 

Oh god there’s so many characters in Pokémon. I didn’t really like Paul much. He’s a good character/rival and serves his purpose in the show but uh yeah didn’t really like him.

what is your favorite episode of 4? 

THERE’S TOO MANY GOOD SU EPISODES!! The one I go to the most though is Rose’s Scabbard. Such a beautifully sad episode where we learn about Pearl’s relationship with Rose. Plus UGH the music at the end makes me cry every time.

what is your favorite season of 5? 

Season 4 for SURE. Season 4 is when I jumped into MLP (yeah after the alicorn stuff). That felt like peak MLP to me. They hit their stride with the writing, the characters were well established but there were new challenges they had to face with Twilight being a princess and all (plus it was before the started catering more to their male audience). It’s also just very nostalgic for me being that it was the first season I kinda watched while being in the fandom.

who is your favorite couple in 3? 

Ooof hmm. TAWoG doesn’t reaaaally focus on ships all that much. I thoroughly enjoy Gumball and Penny’s relationship, and Carrie and Darwin are cute as hell. But I think I gotta Go with Nicole and Richard, especially after watching “The Choices”. I hate when shows portray marriages as awful and like the worst possible scenario. They make jokes about it but Nicole and Richard genuinely care for each other. I always think about the part in “The Fury” when Nicole is sad but Richard cheers her up in his own goofy way. So cute ;0;

what is your favorite episode of 1? 

I,,, have watched,,, Pokemon XY63 so many times you would not believe.  It’s a Jessie episode (obviously). Seeing her fall for this doctor and do a complete 180 in character was so funny but also gives insight into how desperately she just wants domesticity and to be loved. Seeing James and Meowth be supportive of her choice and letting her go hurts so gooood and the little sprinkled in “twerps offering to help jessie plan her wedding” was wholesome. 

I know I can only pick one but HHHHHH SAYONARA DOKUCALE MESSED ME UP. It was one of the first Pokémon episodes I had ever seen and I distinctly remember watching it in my Uncle and Aunt’s living room and SOBBING. Jessie backstory, a twerp truce AND a bitter sweet ending. GOOD STUUUUFFF

what is your favorite episode of 5? 

I always come back to Rarity Takes Manehattan (rarity’s my favorite fyi haha). I love love loved the songs, Suri Polomare for no reason is so funny to me LMAOOO. Rarity episodes where she has a creative breakdown, which is most of them, are super relatable haha. There was so much fun Tabitha St Germain acting and great animation. It’s not the most well written episode of MLP but I still very much enjoy it.

what is your favorite season of 2? 

This is really difficult bc Jimmy Neutron is just so consistent all the way through. I looked at a list of episodes and most of my favorites are in S2 so I guess that one! I remember watching a lot of these with my brother.

how long have you watched 1?

I’d seen episodes of Pokémon since like the early 2000s but didn’t start watching regularly until DP when me and my brother finally convinced our parents to let us watch it. I feel like we got into it around 2007/2008?

how did you become interested in 3? 

Oh god everything about it interested me! Gumball came out RIGHT when I was starting to seriously pursue animation as a career. So, the animation/mishmash of animation styles initially hooked me right away. But then the WRITING. Oh the WRITING is what kept me coming back. It was so smart and snappy and it greatly shaped my sense of humor.

who is your favorite actor in 4? 

SUSAN EGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!! Literally the whole cast is incredible but Susan Egan’s voice is just,,,, WHEW!!!

which do you prefer: 1, 2, or 5?

This is the hardest question I’ve ever had to answer. I love each of these shows for such different reasons. But if I were put in a scenario where someone said “i’m gonna show you a random episode from one of these shows, which do you wanna watch?” I would pick Jimmy Neutron hands down.

if you could be anyone from 4, who would it be? 

I would be Sapphire I think. Just like vibing w my wife as a fusion sounds p dope.

would a crossover between 3 and 4 work? 

Well 4 did a crossover with Uncle Grandpa so yes absolutely. Plus Gumball is so meta anyways, it would work with generally anything.

pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple?  

delia,,,, and,,,,, jessie

overall, which show has the best storyline: 3 or 5?

MLP for sure! Gumball is super episodic and started having continuity by the later seasons (and the storyline they were gonna have got CANCELLED so!!!!)

which has better theme music: 2 or 4? 

Jimmy Neutron is a classic but the fact that there is a full theme for SU and it made me cry when it was released at ComicCon is making me want to say SU lol.

I TAG YOU IF YOU SEE THIS!!!

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Witchress of Keadwen (Geralt x reader, Part 4.)

Series description: The Butcher of Blaviken has a long and famous past, thanks to his friend Jaskier. Yet, neither of those dies easily and it still lurks behind Geralt like a shadow after all those years. History, neither unfriendly relationships, doesn't die easily.

Part Summary: Your arrival to villages of Borin and Corin were more or less accepted by the folk living there. Yet with uncovering the mystery risen up around Mahakam mountains, there were more questions than aswer. 

A/N: Why did I fell so hard so the Witcher politics? It was almost not mentioned in the series at all, but I am all about Temeria this and Redania that.

Tagging:  @osgon-azure​ @davnwillcome @missdictatorme​ @nemodoren​

Word count: 2.8K

Master list: H E R E

The party of mighty heroes was established, consisting of two witchers and one certainly attractive and legendary bard. As it was said the previous night, all of them met in front of the residence early in the morning to gather the last clues so later that day, they could set on their journey. The fog was thick and white as cow’s milk, the air was ice cold.

"I feel that I'm dying Geralt, I swear, I shall fall on this grass and never get up again." - Jaskier jested rather loudly, catching your attention. You were just feeding your horse and it appeared that you were talking to the animal. That was kinda a common thing when you were a witcher. You hadn't a better friend than your animal.

"It's only a hangover, Jaskier. You'll be fine as always." - Geralt grunted back, having a hangover himself. He shouldn't drink four ales and two wines. Yet he did and this was what he had gotten for acting dumb.

"This is the professionality you get from Geralt of Rivia himself." - You chuckled back and swung your leg over your horse to get on top of it. While Roach was a small, brown, and gentle mare, your horse was a beast. It had about two meters and it was as black as night. It was one of the expansive warhorses that weren't common for a witcher. What was common for a witcher was a werewolf head you had strapped to the saddle. Geralt has done the same and jumped on Roach’s back, only Jaskier still stood on the ground and was looking at both of you.

"Where is your horse, bard?" - You asked a bit unbelievably, your look being shot at Geralt as he was the bard's friend. - "If you ride on one horse, I don't judge. Just hop on there so we can go." - You said to Jaskier, petting your horse's neck.

"He doesn't have a horse." - Geralt said, making Roach go forward. Jaskier nodded and started walking behind Geralt. No. On your watch, the bard wasn't going on his feet. It wasn't that you liked him or anything that human, it would just be too fucking slow. And your horse was a big, strong one. Your two meters tall horse called Chamberlain stopped right next to Jaskier and you furrowed while you offered him your palm.

“You are too slow on your feet and I am not listening to your crying.” - You hissed as you helped Jaskier on the horse’s back. You almost slapped the man when you felt palms on your hips. - “If you touch me again I swear to Melitele that I will decapitate you, bard.” - You hissed and made Chamberlain go.

Jaskier wouldn’t recognize you in the morning. All the fancy diamonds were now gone, you weren’t wearing any make-up or jewelry. Jaskier could feel one of your swords poking his leg the whole ride, the second one’s hilt almost hitting his forehead.

Since he never has seen a female witcher, a witchress you would say, he was kinda wondering about your armor and the similarity it bore to Geralt’s. You had the same medallion of a wolf head, the same leather was used on your chest pieces, even the scabbard of the swords were similar. Yet you looked more charming, feminine, and gentler than Geralt could ever look, which made a lot of sense.

It could be felt that you’re going to the mountains shortly after - even if the sun got on the sky and the birds started to sing, the air was getting colder and colder. You had to cross three villages and a mountain pass to even get to the place of your contract - that could last a week if you’d be quick. Which certainly wasn’t your case since Jaskier was with you. And besides, you and Geralt had to look at the place where did all of the massacrings happened, and you had to speak with the survivors, which could be a difficulty on its own.

You had your suspicion about the monsters. It could be trolls or giants. But... This behavior wasn’t normal for either of them. Giants mostly didn’t even live on the Continent. Once you encountered one, it was on Skellige and you were glad that he didn’t notice you. And trolls... Yeah, they cooked people rather often, but they weren’t big enough to massacre a whole village and to break trees and stones apart. There was something fishy going on with this whole contract.

Most scared you were of the case that you would not have enough herbs to brew potions. Healers and herbalists could be hours, days, or weeks away and although it was just the start of fall, many rare herbs simply didn’t grow anymore.

To your surprise, you were stopping by the first village in the evening. It was getting cold, the sky was cloudy and the rain was about to break through any second. It was kind of normal when small kids started to yell and cry when they saw your pupils glow in the dark. Cows were running away, pigs shitted themselves. That was what being a witcher meant most of the time. Animals shitting themselves, usually being the first ones to notice you riding by. Then children crying and hiding behind their mother’s skirt since you were the scarecrow used when kids didn’t want to go to sleep. And at last, it meant a shit ton of disrespect and hatred from strange people.

The innkeeper was more or less quick with you.

“Are there any survivors from Makaham mountains taking refuge in this village, good man?” - You asked quietly, but at your question, the innkeeper shook his head.

“No, lady, we don’t have any folk from these poor villages ’ere. But if you’ll continue souther in the direction of Lyria and Rivia, you will surely find a village of Borin and Corin. There is the folk you search for.” - He answered, giving you two pints of ale for you and Jaskier. Geralt was sitting there with a pin of beer. As you mumbled a quiet thank you, you got back to your companion.

“Borin and Corin are the villages we need to visit next. Something tells me it will be already the territory of dwarves.” - You furrowed and sat down to the men, now waiting for the dinner you’ve ordered.

“Something about all of this doesn’t make sense.” - Geralt drank up and looked over the inn. It was calm, there was only one musician in the corner and most of the people didn’t even notice you. They surely weren’t provoking you, at least for that moment. Jaskier didn’t completely understand what you were talking about, but you hummed and nodded.

“Why would these rich Redanians hire us for a contract that is taking place in Mahakam? These mountains aren’t even in Redania, this isn’t Radovid’s concert nor theirs? And for a reason, I don’t trust that this is because they are worried that the monsters could ascend to their homeland.” - You nodded at Geralt’s suspicion, gently stroking your hair.

"Do you mean that this has something to do with the tension between Redania and Temeria?" - Jaskier asked all of a sudden, making you both interested. Geralt mentioned Jaskier to go on with his speech.

"People like you do not take interest in the normal people's problems," - Jaskier started, yet as soon as he saw Geralt raising his eyebrows and you shifting your position uncomfortably, his tone and expression changed drastically. - "Politically speaking, King Radovid is trying to take over Temeria, which is by cutting off its business and preferably killing off its king. Yet I think this has barely anything to do with this nonsense. It's just another bloody monster, killing everything that moves. You both know how these things go."

For a long moment, there was complete silence. Geralt was drinking his beer, so his furrowing face was hidden behind the bottom of the pint. His eyes were presumably closed as far as Jaskier could say. Your face was turned from the bard as well, but suddenly, after ten long minutes, you woke up from the trance. - "That makes sense. You aren't completely dumb."

"I can't be dumb when I am the biggest storyteller on the whole Continent." - The man in bright clothes jested playfully, laughing unbelievably.

"Although, I am not sure why would Skellige gave their consent to this. Honestly, I think all we are going to find will be some giants, piles of bones, old blood, and ghouls that were attracted to the place of massacre. Yet we can't just turn out horses back and drive to Redania just like that. Trying to accuse the king of buying giants, sailing them to Mahakam, and watching as they get out of your control... It is an amusing story and an impressive theory, but I don't think it would get us too far." - With that, you had Jaskier speechless, which didn't happen often.

It was rare to see witchers speak... Normally. You were talking in full-blown sentences that made some sense and told kind of a story. And it actually could be heard that you know what you're speaking about. Redania, political situation with Skellige, possibly bounded to Cintra and Temeria. One would never suspect that witchers could know so much about politics.

"But we can't be sure. Maybe the Devil sent his reign of terror to rule over Mahakam? Maybe we will find some undead, what can I know?" - You finished the speech, finishing the ale in one good swing. The truth was that witchers could not digest alcohol well, but they were good and grateful drunks. Whatever alcohol you would serve them, they would drink all of it.

As the last night, all of you went to sleep early. There was a long road ahead of you just to get to Borin and Corin and you weren't even thinking about some bad weather if a storm would meet you on the road, the journey could last additional week.

As far as you would talk about Jaskier or Geralt as your companion on the road, it wasn't exactly the best, but it wasn't the worst either. Jaskier could lift your spirits after you had enough forbearance to listen to his voice. His stories were pretty interesting, even if you were aware of how many of them were manufactured by the man. His facts about the monsters were mostly wrong, God knew what happened, but you at least smiled when his voice got the loudest and his eyes started to widen itself.

Geralt could at least hunt and prepare the fireplace when he wasn't exactly the most talkative from the bunch. He was mostly sitting there and prepared various potions and liniments. Your pouch was full of them already, yet Geralt was making some recipes you had never heard about. These recipes were unknown to you.

When the mist was settling down on the dawn of the fifth day, you were approaching the gates of Borin. Normal people were living there along with the dwarves, yet these villages couldn't be more different from the ones you would find in Redania or Kaedwen. There were mining shafts, members and ashes were flying in the air and there were only some conifers or bushes, normal flowers weren't growing where Borin was built. Some houses were built into small hills, only showing the door in the ground, some wooden cottages and houses could be seen and on the main square of the village, there was a monstrose fireplace.

For you, these villages were kind of a mystery. They never appeared as rich, neither they bounced above the abyss of poverty. Dwarves who lived in this town and who quarried inside the shafts exported their ores to Nilfgaard and the Northern Kingdoms, sometimes to Lyria or Rivia... Basically to anyone who had the best offer. Who paid the most got the best ore on the Continent.

And there were camps for the refugees who lived higher up in the Mahaken mountains. The tents were big and could fit at least ten to twelve people. A lot of fireplaces were started to the human beings and dwarves could warm themselves up.

"This is so terrible and ashaming." - A voice in your ear had woken you up from your thoughts. Jaskier was looking at the suffering people. And in his eyes were tears. Oh, you have forgotten. This man surely never saw how whole towns and cities... Sometimes even provinces or kingdoms looked after Nilfgaard raided it. There were dead bodies set on fire laid down next to roads, people hung up on the trees, buildings that were torn down, and cities that were fabricated.

That was mostly why you had to take roads that were leading through the woods. That was where elves, Cintrans, dwarves, and halflings were hiding. That was where most of the refugee camps were located. And the things there... You saw non-humans eating cooked parts of their friends because there was nothing else left to eat. Non-humans were killed, their clothes and poverties were stolen, their bones were cowardly buried in one big pit.

"They have something to drink, normal things to eat, and a place to sleep. I have seen way worse than this, bard." - You said quietly, getting off Chamberlain's back. As usual, witchers were the main interest of everyone. Yet this time, it wasn't meant to make you angry. Refugees and beings living in Borin understood that you are there to investigate.

Slowly, you walked to the refugee camp, having an emotionless expression on your face. You led Chamberlain just a few meters behind, still letting Jaskier sit on its back. - "Is there anyone who comes from the villages of Lhanbyrde or Hwen? I wish to speak to someone who saw what happened there."

Geralt was watching you with his eyes. That charm, calmness, and smile could be admirable. You politely asked the people if anyone saw what happened in the heart of Mahakam - Geralt would just randomly ask someone in his typical barbaric style, scaring them to death. Jaskier surely thought the same thing since he was already looking at Geralt with his eyebrows rose. This was the way to go.

"I, good lady, I saw what happened there." - A boy stood up immediately looked you in the eyes. The boy was about sixteen years old, he was pretty tall and too slim for his age, which could be caused by the events of the last few weeks. No matter what, he was too young to even see such horrors. A nod of your head was what made him talk about what he did see.

"It happened all of a sudden. We were sleeping, oy? And suddenly, fire and screaming filled the air. I heard bones breaking, I saw people bleeding out, I saw all of that. But these footsteps, fair lady..." - The boy gasped for air and looked away for a second.

For a second, you shot your look at Geralt, widening your eyes a bit. The giants you were talking about before. Dear lord, this was strangely exciting. - "Do tell, boy. What about these footsteps? What about them?" - You sighed and the corners of your lips curled upwards.

"I don't know what it was, lady, but the footsteps were... I have never heard anything more horrifying. It was... Like the sound... Of a gong. The land was shaking under the footsteps. Whatever it was, it was huge." - The boy told you and there were tears in his eyes. The memories sure were terrifying someone who wasn't a witcher, yet for a witcher, their memories were everything and more.

Quickly, you bowed to the boy and put up the emotionless expression once again. Chamberlain was still slowly driving behind you with Jaskier on its back. As usual, you booked a room inside the inn, ordered alcohol, and some food to eat.

Good thing was that now you were almost sure about the monster species. On the other hand, there was also the thing that you were most possibly about to die in a painful death. The other thing was... How did giants get into the middle of the Continent? As a lot of questions got answered, more of them raised from the darkness of mystery.

[strawberrypiratenin]

Kanzashi (Ornamental Hair Pin)

Disclaimer: One piece owned by Oda. If I owned it, wouldn't really change a thing other than it would be updated faster and ASL bros will forever be protected. This is my take on Nami’s Onigashima raid attire from ch 975 in the manga, and my first ever fic.

This is also posted on my ff.net account by the same username if some people use that site :)

Word count: 3k+

Rating: T (for a tiny tiny coarse (?) language, but mostly K)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Humor, Just pure fluff... i think.

Pairing: Zoro/ Nami

Note: Italicized words in ' ' are thoughts. The part where everything was italicized was a recollection of the past.

* * *

He extended his right hand once again. Tightening his grip on his new sword. That feeling of sucking his ryuuou is no more. The crows nest is also still intact, testament to his now control on this 'cursed' sword. As he moved to place his sword on its scabbard by his waist, he felt something shift in his haramaki. And stuck his hand in to take out the offending object.

'Oh.'

He thought, staring into the dainty object on his calloused hand.

* * * * *

A few days earlier…

"Momo was sent 20 years into the future… and stayed 8 years old. And that's why his younger sister is 26 now…" Zoro said recalling the perverted brat's face.

'That would mean that brat should technically be 28 by now!' He thought, his frown deepening as he remembered how that pervert snuggled into a certain navigator's chest.

He tried to shake off the disturbing thought of a fully grown man with his face on Nami's chest as he listened to rest of Hiyori's story.

* * *

Zoro tried to rest after his conversation with Hiyori, but can't seem to take off his good eye from the girl's head. Noting the bright color of her hair, he can't help but think of another troublesome girl with bright colored hair. How that hair was so short when he first met her, and how long it has gotten when the whole crew got back together after 2 years of being separated. He never seemed to remember if said girl ever adorned her hair with such trinkets as that on this girl's hair. Sure she would sometimes tie it up, or put in a 'pig tail' as they call it, but never with such decorations. Save for that time in Zou, with that beaded thing draped on her hair and shoulder… and that… dress. Noticing where his thoughts were dangerously heading, with his face almost scowling, he steeled himself to look at the blue haired girl's head once again, staring at the ornament placed on top of it.

"Beautiful." He thought. He was never one to be interested into such things. He's not that damned love cook after all. But for some reason his eye seem to fixate itself on that ornament. And no, it has nothing to do with how he imagined it adorning a certain orange head. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

"Eeeh!" His thoughts were broken by the sound of the older girl accompanying him and a tiny laugh from the younger one. Shifting his gaze to her face, he noted she was holding her palms to her cheeks in apparent shock, and… flattery?

'Wait. Did I say that out loud?' The swordsman frowned.

'No sense to keeping it to myself then', he sighed as he sat up.

"OI, where do you get those things?"

"Huh? I mean… pardon?" The girl said, obviously not expecting what he said and losing her 'lady like' manners for a moment.

"That thing. On your hair. That flowery thing? Where can I get one of those?"

The girl stared at him for a moment then brought her hand up to one of the ornaments on her hair. "You mean this kanzashi?"

He nodded. Not really bothering what it's called.

"Well I have a lot of these back at the flower capital, being an oiran and all. You can buy them there too, but they come at a price." She said, bringing up her index finger to her lips as though in thought. "Why? Are you interested in getting one Zorojuro?"

Zoro frowned, 'back at the flower capital? And with a price?' His frown deepening. 'So much for hoping to maybe get one.' With the witch always seeming to find ways to rack up his debt, he never seemed to have money on his person. 'Heh, see what you get for being money hungry, witch? Can't even give you something nice even if I wanted to.' He thought with an almost smirk then caught himself. 'Why the hell am I even bothering to get something for her anyway?' His almost smirk turning into an irritated frown as he scratched the back of his head.

The older girl observed as the swordsman changed facial expressions as if having a conversation with himself. "Zorojuro, if you want I can give you one. I have one still with me after all, they seem to put a lot on my head and had to remove some when I left. They tend to be uncomfortable after all when there's a lot." She said with a smile.

"Really? That would be great thanks!" He said eyeing her.

"Of course. It's the least I can do. You saved us after all." The older girl smiled, thinking it weird why a man would want a Kanzashi. 'Could other men be wearing this outside of Wano?' She thought. As far as her memory serves her, no men on the ship they were on back when she was very young had such thing on their heads. She even tried picturing a certain pineapple headed boy with a floral kanzashi on his head but quickly pushed the thought out as it looked really weird. 'Unless…' She laughed softly as she thought of the other reason why a man would want a beautiful ornament.

'That witch's luck never seem to run out after all huh?' He thought. Then he heard soft giggling from his two companions and grumpily tried to get back to taking a nap.

* * * * *

Back at the sunny, present day…

"Luffy you can't put that there! It's not gonna fit! I'm not going to tend to that after you ruin it over something so dumb." Nami scolded their ever so childish captain as she found him, along with Chopper and Usopp in front of the women's quarters. The boys were trying out the Samurai gear for their upcoming battle and Luffy was trying to put a helmet on top of his strawhat.

"Eh! But Nami! I need to look cool for battle too! I mean look at them!" He gestured to the other two Strawhats who were busy gushing over their attire with Chopper in a Samurai Helmet and Usopp in an armor and a forehead protector.

Nami sighed. "Well you have to choose just one! Either your hat or the helmet."

"Wha- No Nami! I have to wear my Hat!" The rubber boy said, as if what she said was just impossible.

Nami felt a vein popping on her temple. "Then don't wear the helmet! Why don't you just wear the armor? That way you will still look, uh, 'cool'."

"No way!" the stubborn captain said with a pout. "I won't be able to stretch freely with that!"

Nami sighed heavily, this boy won't drop this until he's satisfied he's wearing something 'cool'.

It was then that she remembered something. "Wait here." She ordered her captain as if ordering a child and went inside the women's quarters.

* * *

After a few minutes, she emerged from the room, relieved to find that Luffy actually stayed put instead of trying to find some kind of way to both wear his hat and the damn helmet. The other two boys with him have now run off to admire Franky who is also now, in a samurai helmet.

"Will this make you look cool?" She said as she handed him a black coat. She can't really remember when she got the garment but does recall thinking it looked fitting for a captain.

Luffy eyed the coat, seeming unconvinced that it would actually make him look cool. But as he grabbed and unfolded it, a grin slowly crept up his face. "Hey this looks like the one Shanks wore!" He said as he eagerly put the coat on. "Ooooh! You're right, this does look cool! Thanks Nami!"

Nami smiled back, glad to have pleased their stubborn Captain.

"Here, now you can have this! Shishishishi!" The boy excitedly pushed the samurai helmet and armor towards her.

"Ehh! I'm not gonna wear that! That would just cover my beautiful body!" The navigator protested as she hugged her curves. "And I won't be caught dead looking so ridiculous!" She barked at Luffy. But then a thought came to her… she does need to protect her 'beautiful' body after all, maybe it won't be so bad to try at least the armor? So she did.

"Oooh! Looks cool Nami!" Luffy effusively praised.

"You think so captain?" Nami smiled as she can't help but to be enthused as well. The armor doesn't look bad, it actually even hugged her figure. "Guess I'll wear it after all", she said smiling at her captain.

"Now the helmet!"

"Wha-?!" Nami's smile immediately dropped as she tried to fend off Luffy's hands as he tried to put the helmet on her head himself.

"No way am I going to wear that!" She screeched as her hand connected to her captain's head fast.

"No cool, Nami." Luffy pouted as he nursed the now enlarging bump on his head.

"You're all 'cool' now captain. Now go bother someone else!"

She sighed as she watched her captain run off laughing towards the rest of the Strawhats who were gushing over their new battle gear.

* * * * *

Inside the women's quarters, Nami adjusted the armor on her body as she inspected herself on the mirror. 'Now what to do with my hair? Keep it up maybe?' she thought.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." She shouted, not really paying mind to whoever was knocking as she started to gather her hair.

* * * 

On the other side of the door, a certain moss haired swordsman tried to maintain a straight face, not really sure what he's doing knocking on the women's quarters.

"Come in." He heard her say.

He sighed and went in, thinking what he's doing is not weird.

No, not weird at all for him. He tried to convince himself.

* * * 

"Hey."

"Hm?" Nami turned her gaze towards the door as the person she was least expecting to come over to the women's quarters walked in.

Zoro's gaze ran over the other occupant of the room. Noting the short…uh, kimono (?) dress and the armor on top of it. Can you really call something so short a Kimono? Never mind, he need not to boggle his mind over women's clothing anyway. Nothing new with her and seemingly shrunk clothes after all. Not like he disliked it but that's not saying he's obsessed with it like a certain perverted dartboard brow. It does looked good on her though, anything probably will. 'Wait what?' He caught himself with that thought. He shrugged the offensive thought and distracted himself with the armor instead, now that's new.

Nami watched as Zoro walked towards her. As he closed in on her, she decided to break the silence.

"What?"

He stood in front of her and frowned slightly with his gaze stuck on the navigator.

"Zo-" She was about to say, as she noted his gaze, the slight frown, and how he seemed to be in some kind of deep thought but was cut off by one of his hands suddenly being held towards her.

She looked at said hand then shifted her gaze toward his face. "Uhh… huh?"

Seemingly embarrassed, he looked away then opened the hand extended towards her.

Still confused, her gaze was back to his hand and was surprised to see a flowery ornament there. She paused, trying to grasp what's going on.

"Wha-?"

"Just take it." He said as his gaze shifted towards her face for a quick moment then away from her again as he tried to look annoyed.

'What's with him?' She thought as he observed him. This is the second time he cut her off in the few minutes he's been in the room. If this was any other situation, she would've nagged at him already, but... there is something different here, she felt.

"Uhm… okay?" She gently took the ornament from his hand all the while suspiciously eyeing him. He then immediately retracted his hand after.

Bringing the ornament closer to her face, she inspected it with interest with the fingers of her other hand. It's a hair ornament. She noted. A flower, with petals dangling below it. 'And it's pretty, no, it's beautiful. It looks expensive too. Wait, is Zoro… giving this to me?' Her cheeks seeming to heat up as she mulled on the idea.

She looked at him, a smile helplessly growing on her lips. "It's pretty! Where did you get it?"

Hearing her cheerful tone, his gaze was drawn back to her and was taken aback when he was greeted by a smile.

"Eh?" His previously 'annoyed' face softening. "Uh... some girl?" He replied.

"Some… girl?' Her eyes narrowing on him. "What girl?" Oh she's really curious now, not really sure why it mattered who this girl he got this ornament he's giving her from is.

"The girl with the blue hair, that pervert brat's sister." He answered coolly.

"Oh, that girl." She said in a soft voice. 'He got this from the most beautiful girl in Wano? Why? And… how?' The idea unknowingly consuming her thoughts as she tried to wrap her head around how Zoro ended up giving her such a beautiful hair ornament from the 'most beautiful girl' in the current country that they're in.

He can see as the gears on Nami's head start to be turning now and continued to observe her face as she seemed to be lost on her thoughts.

A good few seconds passed and he decided to end this slightly awkward moment. 'Look at me for once finally shutting up the ever so loud witch now', he snorted inwardly.

Then he sighed. "Just-"

She was broken from her trance as she looked up to meet his eye.

"Just thought it might look good on you." He declared, easily.

She stared at him for a while, noting his relaxed, earnest face. 'Did he just say?-'

Seeing the gears on her head turn again, he realized what he just admitted. Lone eye suddenly enlarging. If his left eye could, it probably would too.

Her mouth opened, about to speak, when he beat her to it.

"W- witch! I meant you might like it! The hell I care what looks good on you!" He said hurriedly, a little loudly, and almost choking. Then he gritted his teeth. 'Not that anything would look bad on her anyway' some invasive voice muttered in his mind, startling him. 'The heck was that?!' He thought, mentally kicking himself.

Amber eyes enlarged. Caught off guard. Boy was she caught off guard by that. She refocused her gaze on him, noticing the inner struggle he seem to be now in. Turning her gaze on the object on her hand, the very thing that brought this situation upon them, a smile once again began to blossom on the navigator's lips. 'It IS really pretty' she admitted to herself, with a slight blush powdering her cheeks and that smile she no longer can seem to fight off from reaching her eyes.

"Thank you, Zoro."

The swordsman halted his inner struggle and met her eyes. Now it's his turn to be caught off guard.

She's smiling. Not the mischievous trademark cat thief smile. But that smile. That smile he didn’t know until now he really liked seeing. That smile she has whenever they succeeded fighting off a great enemy. That smile she had when they all got back together on the Sunny after 2 years of being apart. That bright, genuine smile that sometimes makes you forget it's the same girl that can rob blind anyone she wanted or hit you in the head so hard that bumps would grow ON TOP of bumps. Not that he would have her other way, truthfully.

The swordsman's lips can't help but turn ever so slightly upwards. "Ah."

He can't tell how long they were smiling at each other like that. But he can't say he didn't like this moment of change from their usual banter. Not that he would really deny liking those too, at least to himself, but not to others. 

Unsure of what to say next, now satisfied with his 'mission', he turned to leave.

As he turned his back, the navigator brought up the ornament to admire it further. 'He really thought to give me this huh?' Their resident, lazy ass, always napping, can't find his way out of a box, swordsman. 'Turns out he's not just all, steel, muscle, and devilishly handsome face after all." Her face about to break into a grin once more. 'Wait. Handsome face?' She blinked. Her face now again starting to heat up. 'Wait no! This is Zoro we're talking about! Why am I suddenly like this?' She silently gasped, wide eyed, her other hand resting on her cheek while the other still grasped the hair ornament.

Zoro was about to push the door open when she suddenly spoke.

"But hey! Don't go thinking this means your debt will be reduced!"

He cringed, one hand resting on his swords, the other still plastered to the door knob. So much for thinking they actually had a nice moment there. He sighed, turning to look back at her, a scowl starting to form on his face.

"… s- so don't go injuring yourself or even getting yourself killed out there! Or I'll have to electrocute you back to life and drag you back from hell to make sure you can pay me back!" She blurted looking a bit flustered.

"Tsk." He said, bringing a finger to his ear. "Yeah yeah, not like you can drag me back from hell anyway. I'll be the one dragging you down there after all." His previous almost scowl now an amused- trying to look annoyed look.

Her hands are now on her hips as she puffed her cheek and stared at him.

… "So make sure you don't go down there on your own just yet, witch." He said staring directly into her eyes, now smirking. He then proceeded to turn and walk out the door and was about to close it behind him but not without hearing a sigh and the word "idiot".

* * * * *

Once alone in the room, Nami looked at the ornament in her hand once again. 'Well that was… nice', she thought, a soft chuckle escaping her.

"Guess I won't be putting my hair up after all."

** End.**

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Bonus:

With her new hair ornament now fixed near her right temple, Nami headed out the women's quarters. Shutting the door on her back, she noticed the samurai helmet their captain previously tried to put on her head. 'See if I had that on, I won't be able to wear this.' She sighed with a smile as she tucked her hair on her right ear.

A sudden thought hit her then. 'What if…' She held out her climatact. 'He would be really helpful, might as well have him fit the theme'.

"Oh Zeus~"

"Woooh! The inside of your tact really is the best!" a delighted cloud exclaimed.

"Hmm, I wonder if it will work? Hey Zeus, I was thinking, how 'bout we replace that cap with this?" Nami suggested as she picked up the helmet on the ground.

"Huh?" The cloud said, curious but complying after remembering how her new 'master' can be when ticked off. "Okay I guess…", the cloud said as he lowered his position to allow the girl to put the helmet on his head.

"Oh, not bad after all!" The navigator commented, cheerily.

'Someone’s in a good mood.' The cloud thought looking at his new 'master' and smiling himself as he looked up at his new hat.

"Hey, the cloud is now looking cool too! Shishishishi." An amused laugh can now be heard from across the deck, followed by the cheer of a certain Tanuki, 'Almighty God Usopp' who once lead and entire army of samurais back in one of his adventures, and a 'superRR cool' robot samurai.

* * * * *

There you go. My first ever fic. Wow the last time I actually wrote a story was maybe a little more than 10 years ago? I was but an awkward teen back then. Now I'm but an awkward adult.

Just had to headcanon this after chap. 975 came out. Was lying in bed at 1 am and just thought ‘hey what if?...’. So here I am, trying to be productive by putting my daydreams into writing.

Hope you like this. If not, then it's cool too. :)

[onthesandsofdreams]

Finding Mystery

Pairing: Amy Pond/Sherlock Holmes Rating: T Summary: No matter where he looked, there stood no signs of the dragon that guarded Princess Amelia.  Words: Notes: For @mousedetective, who is amazing and wonderful, Merry Christmas big sis!

Read @ AO3

Lord Sherlock of the House of Holmes looked around him.

No matter where he looked, there stood no signs of the dragon that guarded Princess Amelia. However, he knew well that the dragon and the Princess lived. The Princess, whom many knights had tried in vain to rescue. The one an evil wizard had taken away from her own kingdom.

He spurred his horse onwards, the castle where the Princess was sat between two mountains. In fact, it almost seemed to have been hewn from the very mountains themselves. But, there was greenery that he had not been expecting. Fruit trees lined the entrance, strange and unusual flowers made the sight beautiful and perfumed the air with an exotic scent. There was a green plant climbing through the castle, with tiny white flowers that looked like stars.

And there was no sign of the many, many knights who had tried to rescue the Princess.

Truthfully, that worried him. Logically, he knew they were either death or long gone. If dead, he saw no corpses. If they had abandoned their quest, well, he would not know. Seldom did they returned to Londonium to announce their failure.

His horse tensed and gave a whinny, stopped and shook its head. “Easy boy,” He said, patting the animal’s neck in an effort to calm it down. It would do him no good for him to get thrown. “Easy.”

His horse calmed down for a bit, and then, he froze for a moment as a large shadow fell upon him. He looked up, and there, above his head, soaring with a majesticity that he would have never thought, was a red dragon. Its scales seemed to glimmer in the sun, as if the beast had pieces of gold and copper to shine from its scales.  He took a deep breath, it would not do to loose his composture now.

Then, the dragon landed in front of him and his horse reared backwards. It was only his years of riding that saved him from being thrown. But the dragon did not moved, simply stared with large greenish eyes. He did not look away, and setting aside his instinct to draw his blade, he tried his best to appear calm, even if his heart was thundering in his ears.

He’d known that dragons would sense weakness and play with their food. And he had no intentions of becoming dragon food. So, he carefully dismounted his horse, the dragon always watching his movements. He kept his sword in its scabbard. 

“Let me guess,” The dragon broke the silence first, a low grumble and some puffs of hot hair escaping him as it spoke. “You came here to kill me and rescue the Princess.”

He placed his right hand at his heart, an universal sign of respect amongst his people. “In truth, I do not come here to kill you,” he spoke loudly, never looking away from the magnificent beast. “And as to the second statement, does the Princess wish to be rescued?”

The dragon huffed, sending puffs of black air around him. But, to his surprise, the dragon chuckled. “Well, look at this, one who finally has brains.”

He didn’t say anything, simply waited.

The dragon shifted closer, he lowered its head near the ground and inhaled. Then, the dragon moved its head, pointing to the castle. “The Princess simply wishes to be.”

He looked at the castle, and while it sat between mountains, it seemed new and comfortable. He could not attest for the furniture, but the outside he could see from the gate was clean and well kept. The windows were colored and depicted scenes that he recognized as stories he’d heard as a child. “And what does the wizard say?” He finally asked, keeping in mind the dragon’s comment about the Princess.

“The wizard comes and goes,” The dragon answered easily enough. “And the Princess doesn’t mind. What she does mind, is foolish knights intent on slaying me.”

It was then when it clicked, the Wizard had always been a friend of the Princess. And the Princess had not kidnapped, she’d simply orchestrated an escape route. He grinned, it was quite clever. He was still unsure as to how the dragon came to be. “Then rest assured, oh mighty one, that I have no desire to stain my blade with your blood. If you are to die, it won’t be by my hand. I give you my word.”

The dragon stared at him. Long and hard, something in those eyes drew him in. “And what, pray tell, is your name errant and strange knight?”

He bowed, “I am not a knight in truth. I am Sherlock, youngest brother to Lord Mycroft of the House of Holmes.  And may I have yours?”

“You may not. Not until I know for certain what your intentions are then, if you are not a knight and came not to slay me, what it is that you seek?”

“Answers to my questions,” He could play dumb, if only to keep the dragon speaking. Perhaps he could manage to make it reveal any secrets. “I simply wished to speak with the Princess, I have no desire to disturb her peace more than what’s necessary.”

The dragon laughed, “You are a strange one, Lord Sherlock of the House of Holmes. And what are your questions for the Princess that I guard?”

He hesitated, he would rather ask the Princess herself, but if the dragon did not allow him to enter, he would not be able to speak with the Princess. “I wish to ask, how she came to know the Wizard named The Doctor.” 

The dragon grumbled, shook its head and said nothing.

“For tales about The Doctor vary, and I find myself fascinated with them. A wizard who does good, yet has a terrible reputation is quite something.”

At that, the dragon approached and stood the closest its ever been. He resisted the urge to take a few steps backwards. “You think The Doctor does good? Even after spiriting so many people?”

It was a trap, one wrong move and he was sure the dragon would burn him. “And maybe those people wished for adventure, I have noticed, that while men have been ‘taken’, it is mostly women.” He took a deep breath. “And perhaps, those women simply wanted the adventure they are denied by their gender.”

The dragon never took his eyes from him. Considering.

“And simply took their chance to have it, I would not judge them for it. Nor the Wizard if he offers an escape of the chains the fairer sex finds itself in.” There, now either the dragon laughed, or the dragon would let him in.

The dragon was still for a long while. And then, it inhaled again. And when he was expecting it the least, it began to glow so brightly, he found himself covering his eyes. When he opened them again, in front of him stood not the dragon, but the missing Princess.

Princess Amelia looked at him quite amused, and he knew that his eyes were wide. This was something he had not foreseen, that the Princess was the dragon. “Well, Sherlock of the House of Holmes,” her voice carried a teasing tilt. “Welcome to my castle. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

And his heart, that had always thrived in solving mysteries soared. Here in front of him stood a woman who was a riddle, a mystery he wanted to solve. “If my Princess would have me.” He was all manners, no use to offend the woman who could turn herself into a mighty beast.

Princess Amelia laughed, walked towards him and entwined her arm with his. “Leave your horse, he won’t go anywhere, come, there’s food enough for both of us.”

“Princess,” He spoke as they walked side by side. “Was I right?”

“About wanting adventure? Yes.”

“And yet, here you are, alone in a castle.”

Princess Amelia stopped, turned and looked at him. “There’s no greater adventure, than finding who you are, with no one to try and change you.”

He mulled those words, yes, he supposed she was right. She had the freedom to simply be. No one to judge, no one who would speak a cutting word, no one who would tell you that you were wrong for being who you were – without causing any harm, that is – and that she now had time to figure out herself. So he smiled at her, “Would you care for some company? I think I could do with some solitude myself.”

Princess Amelia’s smile was radiant, “I think, we could be alone together quite well.” 

And with that, they made their way into the castle, and he knew, that he had found something special, something only for him. Everything else could wait, for he had found a great mystery, one that compelled him to solve.