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starseungs · 2 months ago

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of fishes and chocolate muffins. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — working the morning shift at a cafe on weekdays isn't really the best, entertainment wise. still, eavesdropping on your customers wasn't something you did on a daily basis. it just so happened that two of your regulars had something in store for you today.

GENRE/S — fluff, humor, a pinch of angst, cafe/coffee shop au, writer!seungmin (barely mentioned) • 1.2k words

WARNING/S — profanity for humor, seungmin is pretty down in the dumps for most of this, part 2 of this fic but a different y/n, mentions of unrequited love

( ✒️ ) happy birthday to @seungiepaws !! here's your request for a part 2 of universe lovie, i know i said i'll do a drabble as a gift but it ended up a little longer so you're getting a whole fic mwah <3 i hope you like it

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

The small bell perched on top of the cafe’s entrance door chimed softly at the arrival of a new customer. Your well-rehearsed greetings immediately followed, words racing out of your lips before you could even think twice. It really didn’t matter whether you meant them or not. As long as the guest felt welcomed, then that meant you were already doing your job well.

You doubt any of them ever even acknowledged your efforts, anyway. That was just how the world worked on a normal Monday morning—everyone running on autopilot until the seemingly brainless hoard of zombies got their lethal dose of caffeine or sugar and started acting like proper functioning members of society for the rest of the day. Then, the cycle repeats.

As an “all-rounder” cafe employee (as you liked to call yourself), this was just another day in the bigger scale of the year. Not too important, nor was it a particularly boring day. That simply wasn’t possible if you were working at a cafe, or really, just working in general.

“You’re always here, dude.” An exasperated voice groans from the window booth next to the serving counter. You recognized his face right away as one of your regulars who looked like a hamster. “At this point, you need to pay this place rent.”

The man he was talking to rolled his eyes with a scoff, even though his fingers never stopped typing on his laptop’s keyboard. “I’m a paying customer. Objectively, I’m already giving them money to stay here.”

You couldn’t help but silently snort at the guy’s comeback. He wasn’t entirely wrong, after all. This cafe’s prices already took into account the amenities they could use here. So technically speaking, as long as customers bought something from the cafe’s menu, they could stay for as long as they want until the establishment closes. That’s not usually the case, though. Most people still had places to be and other things to do other than have a staycation on some random cafe seat.

Note that you said “most” instead of “all��. Of course, there were always bound to be those who, for the lack of a better description—overstayed their welcome.

And one of them is that chestnut-haired male who was currently getting berated by his friend.

“Seungmin, seriously!” The other guy, who you finally remembered being named Jisung from his previous orders, exclaimed in concern. “You can’t just stay here all day, every day. I know you’re trying to get over your roommate, but at least make use of your rent?” Jisung almost pleads.

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, as the topic seemed awfully private, but what exactly could you do from the close proximity of the counter and their booth? It’s not like you were judging the two of them. There was no harm intended, and you were sure you’d still go about your day as usual with or without this newly obtained knowledge from strangers.

Seungmin sighed. “I don’t think you want me to be cooped up in my room writing either, so what do you really want to achieve?” His hands finally parted ways from his keyboard for the first time in about an hour. “Jisung, you know being alone in the apartment is only going to remind me of how my roommate is out there with their boyfriend being all happy and enjoying life while I’m over here writing sappy fictional love stories because I don’t have one of my own.”

“Oh, but you do.” Jisung huffs. “It’s just the unrequited kind.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Just saying,” he comments. “I’m gonna let you sulk all you want as part of your healing process, but you really shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself just for the thought of them. You deserve better, Min.”

If you could only agree out loud, then you already would’ve. Unfortunately, that meant revealing the fact that you’ve been secretly listening in to the personal conversations of your customers, and you weren’t completely sure if that was even legal for you to do so. Still, what are they going to do? Charge you for having ears?

“I don’t know,” Seungmin mutters. “I’ll manage it eventually.” And to this, Jisung only frowns.

Now, you were just as frustrated as Jisung was. Seungmin is an attractive guy—you were one hundred percent certain that he could get anyone head-over-heels for him if he wanted. And yet, here he was, a monotone mess over unrequited love? Whoever that roommate is, they had severely failed to see the vision since if that was you, best believe you weren’t letting him go just like that.

Seungmin had honestly caught your eye ever since the moment he started going to this cafe. To put things into perspective, you were practically all smiles for the rest of the day every time he came to order something in the mornings before his daily schedule. When he started staying for whole days, it was only a matter of time before you ended up shooting your shot, even if you barely knew anything about him. Heck, the most you even knew about him was that he liked the chocolate muffins the most here!

A plate of chocolate muffin was heavily plopped down on the two men’s table, startling them due to the sudden act. They exchanged confused glances before Jisung cleared his throat to speak. “Uh—we didn’t order that.”

“It’s on the house.” You pursed your lips.

“What?” Seungmin asks, dumbfounded. You knew he was going to ask for a reason until he saw the look on your face while staring at him. His expression quickly shifted to one of mortification. “Were—were you eavesdropping on us?”

You clicked your tongue. How were you finding his reaction to that so cute? “Look, I didn’t mean to,” you explain. “See that counter? Just how far do you think my station is to your booth for me not to hear a single thing?” Seungmin only grumbles—probably to hide his embarrassment.

“Alright, sure. Whatever,” he says. “I still don’t need that muffin.”

Your eye twitched involuntarily. All of a sudden, you were already leaning on their table with narrowed eyes pointed at the laptop-facing man. “Okay, listen here, you soggy rained-on puppy.” You could have sworn you heard Jisung choke. “This is gonna sound really shitty of me, but there are plenty more fish in the sea. The same goes for your experiences in life. Trust me, you’re not even close to losing those opportunities yet. Unless you’re trying to live like a saint, that is. So grow some balls after your little pity party.”

“That was,” Seungmin exhales shakily. “Vaguely threatening. But somehow I’m not as offended as I thought I would be, so—uh, thanks?” He taps lightly on the plastic cup of his drink, looking away awkwardly.

You lifted yourself off the table and crossed your arms. “My name is Y/N. I work here every morning on the weekdays.”

“Right,” he hums, still not glancing your way and instead facing the baked good you dropped by their tabletop. “So, is this muffin really free?”

All you let yourself give him was a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah. Just call me whenever or something. Congratulations on hooking a new fish,” you said without shame before walking away back to your station.

If you only looked back for a moment, you would’ve seen Jisung gasping for air from laughter with an incredibly red faced Seungmin blanking out as he held a serious staring contest with his muffin.

You could only hope that cheered him up a bit.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung

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mcflymemes · 1 year ago

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AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS * assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.

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unadulteratedkr · 1 month ago

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~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

#fandom life #fandom #credit

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thegoldencontracts · 5 months ago

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What's In A Bird: The Topsy-Turvy Ceremony

Many folks say that the freshmen of Night Raven College grow odder and odder by the year. And, of course, in this year, Riddle Rosehearts, Ruggie Bucchi, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Jamil Viper, Silver, and one transfer student soon to arrive from Royal Sword Academy - Kalim Al Asim - will prove this notion correct for yet another year.

Length: 2.4k words

Notes: A fic of the sophomores in freshman year like I promised, at last! Here's to hoping this doesn't completely flop. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

This also serves as a kind of 400 follower special (not really though), I'm very grateful to everyone who's supported my fics, and feel free to send in any requests for this series! Anyways, on with the fic.

It was a known fact among the students and staff of Night Raven College that every single year of freshmen was odder than the last. For the one-hundred years or so that Dire Crowley had been headmage, he had never once been proven wrong.

And it seemed as if the headmage would be proven right once more.

This year's freshmen were all an odd bunch, it seemed. Divus looked over them scrutinizingly.

"Have any of them caught your attention?" Mozus asked. "I for one find the notion that you've deigned to pay attention to the ceremony and ensure no mishaps occur for once much too good to be true."

Divus merely sighed.

"The ceremony's going wrong either way, no need to be so uptight about 'supervision', or whatnot. The pups'll turn out just fine."

Mozus scoffed.

"Even some of our incoming freshmen have more responsibility than you, it seems," he said.

"Like that one redhead?"

It was so odd how - despite red being a common hair color - they immediately knew which boy Divus was referring to. Oh, Dire was so magnanimous for putting up with all these peculiar students!

"All of you, get in line at once, or it shall be Off With Your Head!" said the redhead boy in question. Threatening to- chop people's heads off? How odd.

Dire knew his name; like the kind and attentive headmage he was, he always cared for his students!

Yes - Puzzle Flowershape. Something like that.

"Riddle Rosehearts, no?" Mozus said. Close enough! "He's a rather good student from what I've seen."

Come to think of it, why were so many of the freshmen wearing clunky looking collars? That was a horrible fashion choice, was it not?

Oh, well. Dire would put up with that terrible fashion choice. The things he did for his students!

"Those things around their neck'll really get in the way of their exercise!" Ashton scoffed. "It looks like I'll have to teach these kids the proper way to dress for maximum power!"

"It looks like those kids have no magical aura! The collar's a curse, now isn't that tragic?" Sam said. "I'll be there if those poor kids need any help undoing that curse of theirs."

"I do hope you'll provide the aid for free?"

"No promises!" Sam said, before looking at the students in curiosity.

A few seconds later, Sam pointed to two of the students in the crowd.

"Those two seem smart," he said, pointing first to a hyena beastman, then to a grey-haired boy. By sharp, of course, Sam was referring to business-smart. There was quite a difference between that, and academic prowess. The hyena boy only seemed to possess the second with those wide eyes of his, and the grey-haired boy, hiding behind two identical twins, seemed to possess neither.

Of course, Dire was a kind man. He'd give Sam a chance to explain his reasoning.

"Are you certain?" Dire asked. Sam merely nodded with a chuckle.

"Clever hawks hide their talons, you know," he said. That was true.

And, come to think of it, the boy's behavior still required observing.

"Hey there," said the boy to the Pomefiore Housewarden. "I got you that makeup you wanted."

How exactly had he acquired that brand? Dire vaguely recalled some talk of how difficult it was to acquire. Truly, he was such a good headmage, always listening to his students!

"Thanks," said the Pomefiore Housewarden in turn, handing the hyena boy a massive wad of cash. How- How had the boy already acquired that much money?

"Those wide, shrunken eyes are likely a product of a lack of access to food," Sam said. Come to think of it, the boy was, well, a hyena. Did that not mean he was from the slums? And, considering the ingenuity required to survive in the slums as a mage, well-

"You're quite right!" he said with a laugh. "But what of the other boy?"

Of an average, unremarkable height, and a frail stature, the grey-haired boy had lodged himself between two twins.

"We should be looking at those two!" Ashton said, pointing to the tall, muscular twin boys. "They'd be great for the basketball team with those athletic reflexes of theirs!"

It would be best to observe first before coming to judgments,

"Dude," said one of the twins, practically shoving the phone into the grey-haired boy's face. "Check out this rare pepe."

The grey-haired boy scoffed, pushing the phone away with a scowl.

"The only thing I'll be 'checking out' is the socials of our peers," he said. "And the picture of the dearest headmage looking at cat photos while a student is attempting to get his attention," said the other twin.

How- How had they even seen that? Dire would have to do whatever it took to ensure that photo for the sake of avoiding bad PR- er, avoiding the entirely false notion that he was anything less than a kind-hearted and diligent headmage who would never ignore his students!

"I think you understand what I mean now," Sam said.

"Indeed," said Dire. "To think, he'd so viciously use photoshop to make it seem as if I'd ever do such a thing!"

"You would," Mozus said. "I find myself more concerned with how exactly they attained that picture."

However, before any further discussion could occur, a shriek was heard.

"Ugh!" said one of the twin boys - the droopy-eyed one. "This is boring."

That was never a good sign. 'This is boring' was the last thing said before the ceremony had gone wrong ten years ago, or twenty-three years ago, or thiry-five years ago, or fourty-two years ago, or fifty-two years ago, or during one of those ceremonies over sixty years ago that Dire had forgetten about.

Out of all the phrases said before ceremonies had gone wrong, 'This is boring' was - by far - the most common.

"Hey!" the droopy-eyed boy said, eyes on that one redhead who was surrounded by students in collars. "You look interesting, Goldfishie."

"My name is Riddle Rosehearts, not 'Goldfishie'," said the redheaded boy, Riddle. "And you'd do well to return to your place in the line."

"Nah," said the droopy-eyed boy, flicking his pen and causing a vine to settle itself on the ground. "Hey, this stuff's pretty cool!"

"I will not stand for this insolence! Off With Your Head!"

A collar wrapped itself around the droopy-eyed boy's neck.

"H-Huh?" he said, pulling at it in confusion. Riddle smirked.

"I warned you," he said. So that was what he meant by 'off with your head'. "You've broken the rules, and now you must-"

And then the fire-bolt was hurled.

It was a terrible, terrible thing, catching fire on the conjured vine and spreading further from there, sending students fleeing.

"Holy shit, dude!" the droopy-eyed boy said, eyes sparkling with glee. "You really are interesting, Goldfishie!"

Riddle had been the one to send the fire-bolt? This whole thing was simply growing more and more absurd!

"I didn't send that!" Cried Riddle.

...T-Then who had?

"Dire," Divus said through grit teeth. "Our top priority right now is ensuring no one gets burned. We can figure out which naughty pup did this later."

That was true. There was a bit of panicking, to say the least.

Which was to say that every student was in a frenzy.

"We're all gonna die!"

"I'm too young for this, Lord Hades! Spare me!"

"Take him instead!"

"H-Hey, don't take me, take him!"

"Are you going to put out the fire, or what?" Divus said, tapping his foot impatiently. Dire could somewhat hear him over the sound of screams.

"What have you done, Floyd?" said the grey-haired boy. "From now on we'll all be labelled as delinquents!" "Hey!" The droopy-eyed boy - Floyd - said. "Don't blame me for that thing, Azul!"

Azul just sighed.

"Jade, was this your doing?"

The other twin - Jade - shook his head.

"I do look forward to seeing the face of the man who disrupted the ceremony in such a manner," he said with a laugh.

Those three were odd. But even odder was the raven-haired boy who seemed entirely calm in the midst of the mess, merely putting out the fire gathering around him.

"Hello there," he said without so much as a glance as the hyena-beastman approached him.

"Heeeyyyy there, bud!" The hyena boy said. "You seem- not freaked out."

"My name is Jamil Viper," said the raven-haired boy - Jamil - almost robotically. "Please do not concern yourself with my affairs. I am but a humble se-"

And all of a sudden, Jamil snapped out of his robotic little monologue, looking down at his hands in shock.

"Nevermind," he said, mumbling a smug "I'm free for now" underneath his breath. The hyena boy blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jamil said. "What's your name?"

"Ruggie," Ruggie answered hastily. "And what's got you so calm? Isn't the school on fire or something? Don't tell me-"

Ruggie flashed a conspiratorial grin.

"Did you start it?" He asked. Jamil shook his head.

"I didn't," he said. "This just isn't all that severe an emergency. We'll put out the fire with ease."

With ease? By himself? Was Jamil not a mere freshman? He knew naught but basic magic, certainly not enough to put out a fire as big as this one!

"Uh, putting it out ourselves?" Ruggie said. "Don't you wanna get like, the headmage or something- Oh, hey there, headmage!" Ruggie shouted in an attempt to be heard through the screams of other students.

Ruggie had finally noticed him, it seemed.

"Hello, esteemed students!" Dire said. "My name is Dire Crowley, headmage of Night Raven College, a-"

"Can you put out the fire?" Ruggie shouted. Why did no one wish to hear about his extremely important information?

"Yes, yes, of course," Dire said. "I will put out the fire."

But he didn't have to. Divus was already there, getting the students attention with the crack of his whip.

"Pups!" he said. "No need to panic. The fire will be put out shortly. Next time any such emergency occurs, I expect you all to follow the procedure constantly taught to you during fire drills instead of flailing around like blind chihuahuas."

A thin sheet of water was summoned upon the floor, Divus flicked his magic-pen. The fire was put out. Phew.

Floyd raised his hand.

"Yes?" Divus asked.

"What's a fire drill?"

"Keep quiet, Floyd," Azul hissed to him in what he likely thought was so quiet no one could hear. However, on top of immense magnanimity and diligence, Dire also had impeccable hearing. One of the many blessings of being a fae, before turning to the Octavinelle housewarden. "I apologize for any inconvenience you've been caused."

He knew he was going to be sorted into Octavinelle, didn't he? Azul was most likely correct about that. However, it would be rather comedic if he was sorted somewhere else.

"You'd do well to apologize to everyone, er- Floyd," said Riddle. "I shall take off the collar if you can prove you've thoroughly repented."

"Uh," Floyd paused, before going completely off-topic. "I think the guppy that's under the chair next to me leg should wake up."

Riddle looked at him incredulously.

"What in the name of the Seven are you blathering on about-" A glance underneath the chair next to Floyd's leg revealed a silver-haired boy, a thin shield of water conjured around him.

Smart.

He'd fallen asleep though.

Ruggie creeped over towards the silver-haired boy, shaking his shoulders awkwardly.

"You good?" Jamil motioned for him to stop.

"He likely has some underlying condition," he said. "I'd wager it's magically induced narcolepsy."

All the oddest freshmen, gathered in one place while the others celebrated the fact that they weren't dead. How- quaint.

A few seconds later, the silver-haired boy's eyes fluttered open, as he took a second to process his surroundings.

"H-Huh?" he said, before realizing what had happened. "E-Er, apologies."

"Please prepare yourself for sorting," Riddle said, voice much less snippy than it ordinarily was. "You've managed to wake up just in time."

"T-Thank you," said the silver-haired boy. The quiet sort, it seemed.

"You really ought to get back in line yourself, dearest Riddle!" said Azul, bearing a saccharine grin.

"The same would go for you, I believe," said Jade with a grin even more sickly sweet. Azul groaned.

"Tell Floyd that."

"Yeah, yeah," Floyd said. "I'm gettin' in line."

Azul glared at him. "And I'm sorry," he said, despite the fact that he clearly didn't want to. Azul looked at Riddle expectantly. Riddle merely sighed.

"I wouldn't call this thorough repenting," he said.

"Please remove the collar from my business partner's neck." Business partners? Was that was kids these days callhed their friends? Dire had clearly fallen behind on trends.

Riddle scoffed.

"Have him apologize to me personally first," he said. Floyd rolled his eyes.

"Stop talking' about me like I'm not here."

"I do believe that collar restricts your magic, dearest brother." And all of a sudden, Floyd had become the most positively contrite person to ever grace Twisted Wonderland.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said through sniffles. "I'll never do it again, honest!"

It was only when Floyd conjured a ukelele that Riddle finally backed down, removing the collar.

"T-That's more than enough!" he said. "I do hope you've learned from this."

But Floyd wasn't listening.

"Whoo!" he said, all contriteness gone from sight. Floyd was quite the good actor, thought Dire idly.

"Get back in line quickly, pups," said Divus with the crack of a whip. The students scrambled to fall in line.

Well then, at least the chaotic part of the ceremony was over.

--------

A few hours later, the sorting was over. And frankly, Dire was most interested in the positions of seven particular students.

"The Rosehearts boy was placed in Heartslabyul," Mozus said in the break-room, sipping on a cup of tea.

"No one was shocked by that," said Divus. "The sortings were quite obvious. Bucchi in Savannaclaw, Viper in Scarabia, Ashengrotto and Leech in Octavinelle, and Silver in Diasomnia. And that means-" he turned to Dire. Curses. "I won all the bets. Pay up."

His poor wallet was aching, crying out in pain!

"Fine, fine," said Dire, forced to cruelly rip those precious thaumarks from their home in his wallet. "Here you are."

Mozus sighed.

"This school is known as Night Raven College," he said. "I was under the impression that - despite their mischievousness, ravens are smart. Not foolish enough to start fires before the first day."

Dire merely laughed.

"Well, Mozus," he said. "Do recall the old adage 'What's in a name'? The name of the school won't change the intellect of our students!"

"Yes, yes."

"So tell me," he continued.

"What's in a bird?"

#riddle rosehearts #ruggie bucchi #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #jamil viper #silver #silver vanrouge #dire crowley #mozus trein #divus crewel #ashton vargas #sam #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #fanfiction

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l33bang24 · 6 months ago

Text

OMG It’s You… (Part 10)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sadness, crying, early stages of homesickness??, Chan being turned on🤭, (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷️ : @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Series Masterlist

(Authors note at the end)

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

Y/N’s POV

Hearing my alarm clock, I roll over to shut it off. I had a surprisingly restful night's sleep, although I needed to take a second melatonin as the first one didn't help. Fortunately, the airport is conveniently located near my accommodation, and the journey there should only take about 5-10 minutes. After reviewing my flight details, I realized the total travel time would be almost 19 hours. Despite the long journey, I'm relieved there's only one layover before I board the second flight to Seoul.

As I start getting dressed and closing up all my bags, I take one last look around the room, which has brought me comfort and has been the starting point of my journey. Leaving behind a place with special memories is always a bittersweet moment. I know I could still come back and visit, but for now, this was goodbye. I smile, happy that I'm going outside my comfort zone to do something I'm passionate about. As I look around, I bring my bags to the front door.

I had to wake up earlier than planned because my flight was unexpectedly early. My family decided to get up with me to give me a proper send-off. The others were coming to the airport to say one last goodbye. I walked into the kitchen and found my grandmother preparing breakfast for everyone. Seeing my grandfather awake was a pleasant surprise, as his sleeping pattern is usually worse than mine.

“I made breakfast for all of us to eat for the last time together.” I smile at her and thank her for the food. “You know, maybe sometime after I get settled in, you can visit. See South Korea with me. I can also come home anytime I want.” I take her hand and his in mine, I reassure them, "I'm not disappearing forever. I promise to visit as much as I can." They hold on tighter, expressing their sadness at not always seeing me. "I'll have to show him how to FaceTime you," my grandmother says.

“Hey! I know how FaceTime works.”

“Oh really? Then where is it on your phone?”

“Same place it's always been in.” Their playful behavior never fails to bring a smile to my face. I think I'll miss this the most.

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

As I prepared to leave, my family gathered to spend some final moments with me. One by one, they came up to say their heartfelt goodbyes.“Hey, Y/N/N, you better not be a stranger now. I don’t want to come there myself to teach you a lesson.” I roll my eyes at my stepbrother’s goodbye. “I love you too, man.” My stepsister is next to come up and hug me. “Send me pictures, yeah? And let me know if you meet any cute guys over there. I wanna know all about it!” I smile, her not knowing I’m already talking to two of them. “Hey now! If you meet any guys, I’mma need their information. That means their name, date of birth, social security number, everything!”

“I’m not giving you anything!” I retort back to my stepbrother. He, in return, shakes his head. My grandparents come up next, giving me their hugs and goodbyes. “Make sure you don’t eat a lot of junk food; you must maintain weight and stay healthy.”

“I will, Nanny; I love you.” She smiles, giving me a tight hug for a small woman. “You take good care of yourself. Since we won’t always have you to help us, Y/B/N must do it for us.” At that comment, my stepbrother exploded, saying how he gets left with my responsibilities of caring for my grandparents and how I need to come back more often to help them. I ignore him and move on to my grandfather.

“You stay safe now, okay? I want you to be able to defend yourself in case someone breaks into your apartment. Do you have your stuff?” I nod, telling him I do and giving him a big hug. I am telling him to take care of himself, and if he ever feels up to it, maybe I can get him and my grandmother a trip over to see me. My dad comes up and pulls me into a hug.

“I want you to call me when you get there, okay? So that way, I know you made it there safely.” My dad tells me. I smile, “I’ll call you when I get there, but you have to remember that I’ll be in a different time zone, so it may be late into the early morning hours before I call.”

“I don't care what time it is; as long as I get a phone call from my baby that she’s okay, I’ll be happy.” I hug him long and hard. Being one of my biggest supporters since I was little, it’s hard to say goodbye to him. I could feel my tears starting to surface. Last is my stepmom; she’s already got tears in her eyes, and mine is beginning to fall. She pulls me into a hug, and the water dam breaks.

As I realize that I won't get to see these amazing people every day, doubts start creeping in about whether this was the right decision in the first place.

When she pulls back, it’s like she’s reading my mind. “I understand that it can be daunting to think about not seeing us every day. However, if you don't step out of your comfort zone, you'll never be able to explore the world as you've always wanted. You will surely be missed, and although your dad and I are homebodies, we'll come to visit you. We love you immensely and want nothing but the best for you. It's time to chase your dreams and become the person you've always wanted to be.” I nod my head and give her a tight hug.

I release her and gather my belongings, taking my first steps toward my new future. As I walk away, I look back at my family again. A stray tear rolled down my cheek as I bid them farewell with a wave. I turn back, holding my head high. I've committed myself to the fact that no matter what challenges come my way, I will never give up on pursuing my dream. Although my heart aches now, I know it will slowly heal with time.

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

“Welcome to Seoul, South Korea! It is currently 2:30 pm on August 16th.” My sleepiness drowned out the rest of the words. I usually don't sleep on planes, but I did this time. I grab my bag from above, leave the aircraft, and move towards the baggage area. Once receiving my luggage, I headed toward the exit, stopping to find something to eat since all I'd had were airplane snacks.

I discovered a cozy restaurant with a promising menu and went to a table, taking a seat to enjoy my meal. I eagerly indulged, savoring each bite as if it were my last. It was a relief to have some time before officially starting my new job the following week, allowing me to settle in and get organized. While I've already started my new job, I don't have to be on-site until next week.

I had compiled a list of essential tasks, including unpacking, stocking up on groceries, and setting up my new apartment. At that moment, my next priority was to arrange for an Uber to take me to the apartment complex where I would be staying.

After finishing my meal, I disposed of the food container and took out my phone to track the arrival of the Uber. I made a mental note to call my Dad once I reached the apartment. When the Uber arrived, I confirmed the driver's name, and they assisted me in loading my luggage into the vehicle.

I provided them with the address, and upon reaching my destination, I expressed my gratitude and proceeded inside to complete the check-in process. The attendant was incredibly friendly, and the paperwork was swiftly handled, allowing me to receive my keys promptly. I lugged my belongings into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor.

As I reached my apartment door, I eagerly swung it open and lugged all my belongings inside. After securing the lock, a deep sigh escaped my lips. The long flight had left me utterly drained. I quickly dialed my dad's number and left a voicemail, letting him know I had arrived safely. Collapsing onto the nearby couch, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.

Although the temptation to drift off to sleep was strong, I knew I had things to take care of. I reluctantly pushed myself off the comfortable couch, picked up my luggage, and carried it to my room. I was fortunate to have found a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a convenient washer and dryer combo.

I surveyed the array of living essentials I had recently acquired, realizing that I also needed to stock up on groceries. Choosing to address this need immediately, I retrieved my purse and keys and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. Having previously researched nearby markets, I headed to the closest one and embarked on a shopping trip that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.

Upon returning home with bags of groceries, I meticulously organized and stored each item in the kitchen. Subsequently, I assembled the furniture and set up my home office, methodically putting together the bed, nightstand, and desk. As I progressed through these tasks, everything seemed to fall into place seamlessly. However, as the day turned to evening and fatigue began, I succumbed to exhaustion.

After ensuring the door was securely locked, I went to the shower. I was thankful I had taken a shower earlier, as I was too tired to rewash my hair that night. Following my usual evening routine, I finally collapsed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep, I sent a good night message to my family, locked my phone, and surrendered to the beckoning of slumber.

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

The week flew by, and I was pleased to find that the rest of my belongings had arrived in the same condition as when they were picked up. I made a mental note to thank the CEO of the moving company for their excellent service. My coworkers kindly came over to assist me in moving all the furniture upstairs and arranging it in the best possible positions.

I appreciated the support of others as I tackled the challenge before me. It was satisfying to see everything arranged just as I had envisioned. Adapting to the time change this week has been quite a feat. It's a new experience for me, and although it's been difficult, I'm confident I'll adapt in due time. I've taken the opportunity to explore, but I've been cautious as I don't know anyone here. Watching crime shows has made me more vigilant about my surroundings, and I'm hesitant to engage with unfamiliar individuals.

I could sense that the guys were starting to get suspicious of me because I'd changed my usual texting routine and avoided their calls. I know I'm not improving things, but I have a video next week to explain what's happening. I'm just holding out until the video is ready to be released. Until then, they will have to wait a bit longer.

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

Third Person POV

The men had every reason to feel wary. It seemed as though she was privy to information that they were not. The other members could sense the shift in their elders, but none were willing to confront the issue. They chose to ignore the obvious problem rather than address it. Chan decided to step aside and call Y/N. He hadn't informed any of the others, especially Minho. He felt guilty for concealing such an innocent action but wanted to keep this secret longer.

Y/N had been behaving unusually lately. She confided in him that she was going through some changes that were causing her stress and exhaustion. He was concerned but didn't want to pressure her. When she answered his call after the second ring, she sounded cheerful as always. "Hi, Channie!" she greeted him with a tone that flushed his face at the affectionate nickname. "Hey, Y/Nnnie, how have you been? I haven't heard from you much," he inquired. Her laughter on the other end was sweet and infectious. "I'm doing fine. I was actually on my way to work," she replied. Confusion crossed his face. 'Work? Shouldn’t she be in bed by now?’ he inquires.

Not realizing she was calling for him. "What do you mean work? I thought you would be in bed by now?" Y/N freezes as she realizes her mistake. She berates herself, thinking, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' while hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Ah, well, I'm not uhh… I mean, I am I….URGHHH!” The moment her brain decides to take a break is precisely when she needs it the most. Chan is completely bewildered now, eagerly waiting for her response.

After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she finally admits something. “Look, there may have been some major changes in my life right now, and I wanted to surprise you when the time was right. I have a video coming out today that will explain everything. That's all I can tell you.” Chan nods his head, then forgets he isn't FaceTiming her. “Okay, love. I'll be patient and wait for your video. Afterward, I expect no more hiding things, okay?”

“Yes, sir, you have my word.” Chan shouldn't have been affected by those words, but coming from her, it felt like a shock just went through his body. “Anyways, I have to go, Channie; we’ll talk later, yeah?” After they said their goodbyes, Chan returned to the room with a huge smile and a semi-hard in his pants.

(A/N: I couldn't help myself; I had to do it. Also, I put in a sad, departing moment with the family. I hope you all enjoyed it and look forward to the next chapter!)

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george-weasleys-girl · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do a smut - George x reader - Where they're a week without spending time together, maybe cause of their work, they come home tired, anyway...

And when she talks about it, they decide to spend a night alone

"I just want you to be happy! And perhaps a little bit naked." or "When was the last time we had an entire night together, just the two of us?" 🧡 happy october🧡 and sorry, my english is rusty

Alone At Last

Warnings: pure smut, shower sex

18 +only

George Weasley x fem!reader

~•~

George collapsed on the sofa, glancing at the clock as he made himself comfortable. Y/N should be home from work soon. He smiled at the thought of having three glorious days together without having to worry about either of their jobs.

They'd both been looking forward to this little mini vacation for weeks. George had even bought Y/N a lacy little nighty just for the occasion. There was once a time when their sex life consisted of more than exhausted quickies before they passed out for the night. They both missed the days when they could just go at it for hours on end.

The thought stoked the fires of George’s desire. "Mmm," he palmed his growing erection through his pants. Obviously, his mind wasn't the only thing that missed those carefree days. He was half tempted to pull out his cock and start masturbating, his mind drifting back to the many times of one of them walked in on the other pleasuring themselves. It always led to a sleepless night filled with hot, passionate sex.

With a shuddering sigh, he decided against it, not knowing how tired Y/N would be when she got home. He didn't want her to feel pressured to do things she wasn't up for. The Ministry was working her to the bone lately, and this past week had been the worst. They'd barely seen each other at all, and George was missing his wife in more ways than just one.

~•~

A few minutes later, the familiar sound of the lock turning in the door alerted him to Y/N's arrival. He jumped up, meeting her at the door with open arms. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he sighed as she leaned into his embrace. "Another rough day, sweetheart?"

"I think I was being punished for taking a couple of days off," she tilted her head up to give George a kiss. "But it was nothing I couldn't handle."

"My poor love," George commiserated, leading her over to the sofa. "Glass of wine?" He asked.

"Yes, please," Y/N smiled, flopping back against the cushions.

"Any thoughts on dinner?" George asked as he poured them both some wine. "We could maybe go out if you wanted."

Y/N thought for a moment. She was very tempted. It'd been a while since they'd had a proper date. "Maybe tomorrow night, I don't feel like going back out again. And besides, Fred's at Angie's tonight. When was the last time we had an entire night together, just the two of us?"

"Excellent point, milady," George handed her a glass of wine. "The night is yours, then. What would you like to do first?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course," George said, sitting next to her.

"A hot shower," she admitted. "I just feel need to wash away this horrid day."

"A shower it is then," he said, kissing her cheek. "And while you're doing that, I'll order in some food. Anything in particular you'd like?"

"Nah," she said, taking a heafty sip of wine. "Whatever you want is fine with me."

~•~

The water felt wonderful, washing over Y/N like a warm summer rain. She let her mind wander, thinking about where she'd like to have dinner tomorrow night. Maybe that little Italian place that has the dance floor. It'd been forever since they'd went dancing. The memory of her scorchingly sexy husband dancing the tango reminded her of another fond memory. One which involved her moaning George's name as he pressed her against the shower door, the warm water pouring over them as he fucked her senseless. Y/N didn't even realize her hand had slipped down between her legs until her fingers began circling her needy clit, a soft moan falling from her lips.

George couldn't decide between Thai or Greek and headed into the bathroom to ask Y/N her preference. She rarely took long showers and would be getting out in a minute or two anyway. Her moans hit his ears before his eyes took in the beautiful visage of her pleasuring herself, causing his pants to become suddenly and painfully tight. He all but ripped his clothes off and proceeded to slide the shower door open slowly.

Just a quick tease, she thought. Then after dinner I'll fuck George until neither of us can see straight.

~•~

"You are so fucking hot when you moan my name," he purred, stepping into the shower with her. "But I wanna hear you scream it."

Y/N's went eyes wide, her hand stopping all movement but not pulling away from her aching pussy. Startlement shone clear on her face, but not a hint of embarrassment. She'd gotten over that long ago. Instead, she smiled, and reached out to stroke his cock. "I was just thinking about the last time we showered together."

The memory went straight to his dick and George groaned at the exquisite pleasure of her soft hand around him. "Good times," he mummered in her ear as his fingers slipped between her silky folds. "Damn baby, you're tight as a vice tonight." He grinned, pumping his fingers in and out of her as she shifted from slowly stroking his full length to quick, tight strokes around his sensitive head.

Their eyes remained locked on one another's face while their hands moved with expert precision. "You're so fucking hot when I'm jerking you off," she sighed, watching his face contort in pleasure. George responded by pressing his thumb to Y/N's sensitive nub. "Fuck, that feels so good," she moaned, throwing her head back. "I'm already so close."

"Me too," he groaned. He could feel his juices churning deep in his balls. "But I want to cum inside your tight, little cunt." Then, before she could respond George pulled his fingers out, sucking her juices off each one as he stepped back out of her grip and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. Y/N braced herself, placing her hands against the tile, and, bent over, thrusting her hips up, offering her pussy for the taking.

And take it, he did. Gripping her hips tight, he pushed forward slowly, savoring every ripple and pulse around him until he was balls deep inside her, forcing a long, loud moan from Y/N's mouth. "Fuck George, I love your fucking cock!"

"I know you do, baby," he grunted, thrusting into her. "Fills you up so perfectly."

"Yes," she gasped. "Makes me feel so good. So full."

Her words sent a surge of pleasure pulsing through his veins, and he picked up his pace. Their moans filled the room and mingled with the sound of their wet skin slapping together, creating a symphony of ecstasy that drove them both right to the edge. George shifted his angle, hitting the special spot deep within her that only he could reach.

"Fuck yes, George! Right there!" Y/N screamed, clenching hard around him as her orgasm ripped through her. George followed seconds later, groaning her name into her ear.

~•~

They sank down into the tub, a jumble of arms and legs. Y/N leaned over and turned off the rapidly cooling shower before collapsing back onto his heaving chest.

"Damn, that was incredible," George chuckled. "I need to interrupt your showers more often."

"You definitely do. Especially if it's going lead to that," she agreed, then shifted so she could face him. "Why did you come in here anyway?"

"I couldn't decide between Thai food or Greek. Thought I'd let you be the tie-breaker."

Y/N thought for a second before answering. "Thai," she grinned. "Let’s keep with the hot and spicy theme."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw

#george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #hp universe #hp fandom

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dimdiamond · 8 months ago

Text

I have so many mixed feelings on Toshiro (aka Shuro).

Like he has the DADDY issues ever. Laios has too but Laios is in the opposite direction of "I'll never make my father proud, I can as well do my thing" while Toshiro is still trying to follow his father's wish and demands.

Like he couldn't care LESS about his servants. He doesn't treat them badly but he barely treats them. Does he even know their names? (Yes, it's because of daddy issues but at some point we have to stop accusing the parent and start to see our own faults)

Like he was just a boy who liked bugs and getting dirty. And then saw Falin who liked bugs and didn't mind getting dirty and thought "if I take her as my wife and my dad meets her and finds her interesting then maybe he will finally find me interesting too".

Like he showed more than necessary interest for another human being and he made it his whole character (oh, yeah, I'm the one who loves Falin, look how long I can go on sacrificing my needs for her SHUT UP YOU'RE DOING IT BECAUSE YOU FEEL GUILTY AND HOPELESS NOT FOR FALIN'S SAKE).

Like he had ONE person to find him interesting and he couldn't be sincerely thoughtful towards him. Yes, I know how it is to spend time with someone you find boring and have no connection but it is unfair to let the other be in the dark and I am the one who is in wrong here, not the other person, no matter how much they irritate me. Do I think Toshiro finally snapping and fighting with Laios is a good thing for both of them and their future friendship? Absolutely. Do I also find it cruel towards Laios? Absolutely, the boy becomes even more insecure after that, Toshiro could handle it better.

Yes, it is a cultural thing as well and I am aware Asians and, specifically for this character, Japanese have different approach in socialising and what is proper and acceptable, and I see how Laios and Toshiro show the clash between ignorant white man and Asian man that suffers from it, but we can't ignore that there are other Asian characters who don't act like him. Izutsumi? Rin? Heck, even Kabru could be considered! Others too! Even Toshiro's brothers and family! They're all different characters thar deal with their identity and their own trauma and experiences in their own way (and let's not forget they're not the focus of the story so we can't know everything about them or how they would react to everything or even their thoughts).

Could Toshiro be neurodivergent as well and had learnt to mask? It's very possible and it would make sense in many aspects of his character!

Is he a bad guy? No, of course not! Has he made mistakes? Many, of course! Has he shown good qualities? I doubt Laios party would consider him a friend if he hadn't and after his fight with Laios he gives the bell to Laios and still wants to help in whatever way he can.

As most of dunmeshi characters, he falls too close to reality and he gives me mixed feelings- even relating to him some times! But I can't deny the fact that, although an interesting character and rightfully liked by many fans, if I met someone like him irl I would dislike him.

#why is he like that #btw this isn't hating him #the character is fine and necessary for the plot i am just not his fan lol #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #shuro dungeon meshi #toshiro dungeon meshi

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bloggingboutburgers · 9 months ago

Note

First of, I'm a big fan of your work. I love your comics and art and was happy to hear about the engagement 😁

As for my question, I love writing stories and creating OCs/characters. In your recent comic you called out that the only ace/aro rep always seems to be "the creator said so on Twitter" (a problem with a lot of rep. in media).

So I was curious, if I wanted to create an aroace character (and write a story with them), how could I naturally show them being aroace? Do you perhaps have any idea?

Thank you so much for the kind words!^^

Arguably my complaints are ironic because I myself haven't done proper aroace rep in my own fiction thus far – though I guess I'm compensating for that with my current comics, haha 🙈 But also, I've said it before and I'll say it again cus I'm annoying like that – Bojack Horseman did it, in my opinion, so that gives the rest of the media less excuses I guess.

So, again these are my personal views, and they're possibly demanding, but this would be my checklist for ideal aroace rep:

The aro/ace character needs to... BE a character. Actually have arcs, that matter within the story. Whether they're about being asexual or not doesn't really matter as long as THEY matter as a character.

...Ngl I feel they need to matter BEFORE they're revealed as aro/ace too, and obviously after. If they don't, they'll just feel like a placeholder who's just there to tick a box to me.

The fact that they're aro/ace needs to be addressed and not pushed under the rug or left up to interpretation. Leaving things up to interpretation will have so many people interpret them as allo for sure (just like in real life). And conversely, saying they're aro/ace may spark some curious questions and possibly awkward conversations (just like in real life). (...Again tbh Bojack Horseman was great at doing it naturally. The confusion from the ace character themself, the ace character's friend assuming they're gay because yeah that always happens, the MC having a friendly yet clueless "haha you're lucky that'd save me so many problems if I didn't have sexual attraction"... I could go on.)

By that I also mean... Actually NAMING the orientation at some point. If it's not named people who consume the media and don't know such an orientation exists will be none the wiser. (I'm guilty of that myself tbh. In one of my webcomics I had an alloaro character but never had the orientation mentioned within the story, I left it at showing he has sex and him having a conversation with his family explaining he doesn't have a favorite person because he just can't, but I feel like that's not enough, and I've been feeling a bit bad about it.) A good way of bringing that up fairly naturally would be to have the character figure out their orientation within the story, as a way to have the audience learn alongside them; but it could also be played for drama, which I don't think I've ever seen and would like to dabble with myself at some point – like, imagine you have a friend you hold dear who's key to your personal development and suddenly you find out they see you as sex / romance prospects and not as a friend like YOU do? That'd be crushing but that could definitely make for a good conflict. I should try writing that. I'm rambling anyway. Bleh.

Another thing that, to me, is key to the aro/ace experience is that the character may have some moments of questioning their place in the world. Our world is obsessed with sex and romance and fiction exacerbates that to the point where some characters barely even exist if they don't have romance. This could range from "Do I NEED to even identify myself as something" (again, Bojack Horseman did that great) to "Friendship is the most important relationship to me but not to my friends, what if they all abandon me once they find the one person they consider 'more important'". I dunno. I feel like there could be some interesting storylines there. I definitely would love to dabble into that myself a bit more, though I lack the time and talent – those concepts and the lack of things that are done with it live in my head rent-free.

...Actually I feel it could be good to show aro/ace characters as full of heart (if it fits their personality), having their own feelings and emotions outside of the usual romance spectrum, to show that they're just as human and compelling as the other characters. (...AGAIN Bojack Horseman did that great imo, I feel bad that I'm only ever quoting that show but that's still the best example I can ever think of.) Like – betrayal, loneliness, grief, kinship, literally ANY other form of love than romantic love... We feel all of those too (aside from people who don't experience any form of attraction at all, in fairness), and those deserve to be addressed in stories just as much (if not more) than the pining or simping that's kinda everywhere.

Oh yeah and speaking of being human... Yeah, human. We need more human aro/ace characters. Making it so that only the aliens/gods/demons/robots/whatever are ever allowed to be aro/ace only serves to dehumanize these orientations.

...IIIII think that's it. I might be forgetting some things I'd wanna add on later but I think that covers everything that would make for ideal rep in my own opinion

#asexual #asexual representation #aromantic #aromantic representation #aroace #hopefully that helps! though again this is personal feelings #i'd be honored if they're shared but yeah #sinank0606

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archivalofsins · 1 month ago

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Guess what's coming up in a few days! It's Mikoto's birthday~ (Well technically here now.)

So, in preparation let's talk about the many shades of Mikoto Kayano!

But before we do I'm gonna need everyone on the same page.

So, please take a look at these images, if you will-

Now, I would like for everyone to focus on the coloring of the tips of Mikoto's hair. I would like you all to note the color you see here. As this is the most direct and accurate to reality depiction of the prisoners we have.

Even aligning with their portrayal in Es music video Undercover.

Something that seems to be a creative rendition of Es looking over the prisoner incarceration records. Something that Es is alluded to be doing in their voice drama.

Sakurai, Haruka?

"I’m so lonesome, please love me." - "He's making a somber expression, isn't he? Well good thing is, if you open up his heart, you'll hear lots from him."

It is further implied that during Jackalope's tour of the prison Es was looking over the prisoners papers through the climax of the voice drama. It begins with the bell ringing as the ending of many of the voice dramas do then Jackalope stating,

"It's time. The prisoners are gonna wake up. Time to meet them face-to-face!"

And then ending with mechanical noises being heard, Jackalope giving a few more encouraging words then Es walking off after stating,

Sure. Let's do my first job as the prison guard.

Their footsteps being heard before they introduce themselves to the prisoners proper with,

"Good day, prisoners. My name is Es. I'm the prison guard. This place is Milgram Prison. It exists to judge your sins, the ten of you. I don't know much about you lot. What I do know is that all of you are killers that's it. From now on, I'll have you all enlighten me about yourselves. Once again, welcome to Milgram. Have a nice life in prison."

The first anniversary art possibly being a rendition of this introduction taken from Es' perspective.

As it seems to be from the perspective of someone just entering the room.

I've mentioned before that the Anniversary images seem to be telling a story albeit in a disjointed order- Though that's quite normal for Milgram.

First Anniversary: Introduction to Es (Shown Above)

Second Anniversary: Incarceration/Stained with Sin (Ruined Reputation)

Third Anniversary: Moments after the crime/ Es Stained by Their Sins (Mirroring the prisoners stained hands from the second anniversary. Also alludes to Es' ruined reputation through association with the prisoners. As well as their muddled or strained morality due to this.)

Fourth Anniversary: Victim's Funerals/ Memorial of Sin

All the prisoners shadows and Es' creating what look like jail bars over the image of flowers in the back creating this atrmospher of entrapment. That works to say there's no way back now.

Basically it reiterates this statement from Harrow,

"Every time death comes the soul moves forward."

In this case implying one moves forward because there is no longer anywhere to go back to. The placements of the characters even making a curved arrow as though pointing at the only direction left to go.

Outside of all that. The reason that I believe the images of the prisoners provided on the Milgram website and within the Undercover music video are the most accurate physical depictions of the prisoners is because unlike the imagery provided. Outside of the fact that there physical depictions with the music videos are not always true to life. Is due to the imagery provided on the website remaining consistent, as well as the Undercover video taking the depictions of the prisoners from that.

Along with Backdraft even portraying the validity of those same depictions,

This brings up another bias the music video plays on. That being how people perceive themselves physically will always differ from how people perceive them in reality. These sort of contrasting self-perceptions are typically discussed when it comes to things like eating disorders.

I.E some individuals with eating disorders tending to perceive themselves as weighing more than they do at times. There are many other instances in which someone's mental image of themselves may not align with how they look in reality outside of those cases as well. Yet, that was the most common framing I heard this concept discussed under growing up.

A more Milgram related example outside of the one that will be discussed later on. Is how Mu visualizes herself as an insect in It's Not My Fault, Mahiru visualizes herself as significantly younger in I Love You, Haruka visualizes himself younger in Weakness, Futa visualizes himself as a knight in Bring It On then a hooligan in Backdraft, the multiple different versions of Yuno and Amane etc.

So, the representations of the prisoners within the music videos have never be true to reality. However how other prisoners and Es view them will tend to be more rooted in reality. Leading those perceptions to align more heavily with the information provided through the website. Creating this idea of consistency.

At least that's what I believe is occurring here. So, I'm working under the website sprites and Es' depictions of the prisoners within undercover being the most accurate and up to date physical images of the prisoners we get from trial to trial.

Alright, now with that explanation and small tangent out of the way.

May we all agree that the tips of Mikoto's hair as depicted in these instances are a sandy brown perhaps even leaning a bit towards sandy blonde? Something that has remained a consistent depiction of his dye job even when his hair grew further out. Such as in his trial two depiction.

Is it possible to come to a consensus that the color he dyed his hair is somewhere around this color of dye job?

Okay, since it's impossible for anyone to answer this- I'm going to move forward under the assumption that most people continuing to read this can generally agree with that statement.

That or at least want to see where this is going exactly. Considering that when Mikoto and colors are discussed it's usually for a reason completely unrelated to his hair.

So let's discuss the different shades of Mikoto Kayano with this handy image made by @doctorbunny

He went through the trouble of color picking the color of Mikoto's highlights over the course of Milgram. Comparatively with his skin tone and the shadow applied on the the art itself.

I'd like to focus on the ones from MeMe and Double.

As one can see the images in MeMe have two distinct highlight colors-

The greenish tint and the redish-pink tint. These aren't the only changes that exist but we'll be focusing on this first. Now the use of red and green within Milgram isn't really new territory for anyone. Especially when it comes to Mikoto's case. However the more subtle ways it's used throughout his music videos tends to go understated.

The colors red and green are used within Milgram to denote innocence and guilt.

From the website-

to the videos,

Not just in Mikoto's but other prisoners videos as well. Using red to denote guilt and green innocence has become quite synonymous with Milgram over the years.

Yet these variations and more subtle use of these hues tend to be overlooked.

Which is probably a part of the reason it was made more glaringly obvious in Double. Outside of green showing up more prominently due to the focus being on Mikoto (John) and not Mikoto such was the case in MeMe. Hence the hair difference and more prominent use of red.

While red for the majority of Double takes more of a backseat role. Not being the star of the show as much as it was previously. Being used more as an accent color. Yet the parts they choose to have it take center stage at are very telling-

"Doesn't matter if you didn't wish for it. Can't get rid of me now."

Along with running in fear for his life being incredible instances for the staff to choose to have the color red appear. Outside of ya know the blood accenting everything. At least with the running for his life thing green is there as well.

But picking at the design choices of Double is like trying to read in a dream. It breaks the immersion and your brain can only do it a few times before things get weird. There's a lot of colors here in this segment alone.

Even still that doesn't change how Red and Green specifically has been used over the whole of Milgram.

I just think it's neat to point out the difference in this mental perception of Mikoto's own hair. Since how one views themselves can be heavily impacted by dissociative tendencies. Which is first visually highlighted through MeMe,

Also admittedly when he's brushing his teeth here his hair seems to be the right color,

Though it could be off given the lighting in this shot in particular which segues me into my next point. This issue is in the thumbnail as well. Now this could be a compression thing too.

But given how every color looks a bit lighter in the thumbnail image it seems like it was just brightened to me. But yeah that's a fun little fact about MeMe and Double.

Plus there are other changes with their hair throughout MeMe including this one,

Where it does turn lighter and looks more reminiscent to how it's portrayed on the website.

Like just visually flashes through these two different shades seemingly purposefully but it could be an animation error. Yet the expression work on Mikoto where these change in color occurs leads me to think it's intentional.

Something that when put side by side in the way above makes it look more like a back and forth conversation between the two. The thing which is implied to be happening through MeMe through other directing choices.

Also during this part of the video is one of the few times that Mikoto isn't making direct eye contact with the camera. Instead looking at someone seemingly offscreen.

The other time is when he's looking at the mirror after seeing the other one,

Which are the few times in MeMe where we get a side shot with Mikoto looking at something else while in this space. The other being the pan over when he's looking at the ground and the side shots during the attacks and other parts that take place outside of this space.

Outside of that I find it difficult to believe that no one caught this before it was uploaded. Unless it was caused by uploading it which it could have been who knows. However, it's pretty obvious when watching the video regardless of what quality it's on. Even though it goes by rather fast. Plus, we know from the Yuno Tear Drop early release that they upload and unlist/private videos for before the premiere.

So unless they had a different system back then they had ample time to check, do fixes or delay it like they have with other music videos before.

It would make sense if this was put in to allude to a conversation taking place between the two at the end of MeMe. Since there are things within that video that already imply that without this tidbit being added on. Such as the snapping that the Mikoto sitting on the couch was not in the position to do or even moving to do himself at the time.

As well as a card being slid across the table and then picked up by someone else.

Someone else Mikoto promptly lifts the head up of and punches square in the face without even pausing. With zero hesitation-

MeMe: 3:31 to 3:44

So again seems like a back and forth was going on there already. That is reiterated in Double.

Also really makes me understand why Mono Poisoner was just such a good and fun fit for Mikoto as this scene really can bring to mind the line,

"With my fist balled up from our little game of 'rock, paper, scissors', I hit you square across the face."

This entire time I've felt like I've just been repeating myself. Like all of this is stuff I've said before here. Though since I've been info dumping in private about it so much it's difficult to remember if I ever posted about it or if I've just talked about it too much generally. We'll all find out because I'm going through the trouble of linking every pertinent Mikoto post I've made at the bottom of this one.

Hooray... This took a while. I hope a few people enjoy this. Now I'm gonna go try to celebrate and catch up with responding to messages.

Well, good bye and hopefully everyone has a good weekend! And something finally interesting instead of more set up happens in the portal timeline. Because I can't take more set up.

Also here's a master list of all the other posts I've made or worked on regarding Mikoto,

Past Mikoto Posts

Tarot Cards

Spread One: January 16, 2023

Spread One Continued: July 24, 2023

The Murders, Music Videos, and Voice Dramas

The Incidents: March 18, 2023

The Incidents Part 2: April 29, 2023

The Vape Pen 1: May 26, 2023

Tidbits from MeMe: July 3, 2023

Difference in Speaking habits: August 2, 2023

Swing and...A Miss!: August 7, 2023

The Vape Pen 2: September 23, 2023

Highlight Colors 1: October 18, 2023

Highlight Colors 2: October 19, 2023

That's Just Advertising!: December 8, 2023

Dreams Vs. Reality: December 18, 2023

Difference in Signatures: January 10, 2024

Order of Events: February 9, 2024

Comments on the Viewers: February 20, 2024

Difference in Habits and Clothing: March 14, 2024

The Callback: March 22, 2024

Joke about the trial 2 end report statement : July 17, 2024 (Side note: This never fails to make me laugh. I always imagine the skeletons going in a decrepit squeaky voice saying "We were". Bro people will be out here like I got skeletons in my closet, bodies under my belt then show those skeletons and others will still go I don't see it. Meanwhile some will be like I know, I see it, I hear you, and I forgive you anyway this is objectively fucking hilarious.)

Jackalope Bias??? Towards him?!: July 19, 2024

Character Parallels & Dynamics

Mahiru and Mikoto: June 29, 2023

Yuno and Mikoto: September 2, 2023

Minor Yuno and Mikoto Parallel: June 10, 2024

Yuno, Mu, and Mikoto: July 9, 2024

Futa and Mikoto Dynamic: May 22, 2024

Mikoto and Kotoko Pairing: January 17, 2024

Mikoto (John) and Mikoto's dynamic: September 9, 2024

Kazui and Mikoto: August 5, 2024

#milgram #mikoto kayano

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yiga-hellhole · 4 months ago

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hiii i was going to make more of these but i realized i cant be arsed for all of them in one big batch. anyway @smilesrobotlover thank you bestie for reminding me this template exists. too bad there isnt a slider for "beats the other up - is beaten up" because you know the boys are FIGHTINGGGG

some rambling under the cut

big spoon and little spoon is a straightforward one because well, you're not going to get a bigger damn spoon than zant. he's massive. but sometimes even he likes feeling small and cared for, so they're not beyond having him fold his spindly limbs up like he's a dead spider and let ghirahim scoop him into his arms

i don't see them as a big "sharing clothes" type of couple. ghirahim's are far too small for him and his wardrobe flusters zant to no end. inversely, ghirahim wouldn't be caught dead in most of zant's things. but zant would find a lot of enjoyment in giving him clothes

pet names, ghirahim has like 2~3 for zant that he uses, and they're never particularly sappy or anything. zant however makes up new ones every other day. he's sick in the head

introverted-extroverted scale is a little complicated because ghirahim strikes me as more ambiverted. he's well-versed socially and loves attention, specifically loves bullying people, but after spending so long in solitude without proper peers, i think being alone has grown rather comforting for him too. who knows how it'll pack out when he has more like-minded individuals around him? i'm not sure yet.

for love-language, like i said, ghirahim isn't very sappy. he's far more touchy-feely in that aspect where he will just grab and kiss and tease when he feels the need. zant is a solid 50-50 because he loves being touched but also makes up sappy little nicknames on the spot or a long-winded declaration of love to the point it starts getting a little annoying. he's just kind of intense.

confession... well ghirahim would be quick to start doing things that typically denote a couple, but leaves it up to zant to actually officiate the whole thing. partly because he has issues. but also because he loves any chance at making him flustered (issues... 2!)

i don't think either of them are scared of bugs. but ghirahim is callous in getting rid of them and zant will just add them to his personal collection if he can catch em

twili society is rather high-tech. they probably have vehicles of some kind, and zant strikes me as the kind of guy who can drive. irresponsibly, i'll grant, but he'll do it. ghirahim would know how, but he refuses to. he's spoiled like that

the cooking one is funny because anyone in my server will know about the 'zant meal' phenomenon. he can cook, at least to keep himself alive, but the things he makes are horrifying to witness. unprecedented flavor profiles and chaotic execution. just don't worry about it. ghirahim, meanwhile, has a built-in chemical compendium and a heat sensor. theoretically he'd make an excellent cook and baker. he just doesn't want to.

zant loves affection, but is a very private person. he knows ghirahim is very showy and obnoxious, so if he lets him get away with slobbering his face even once, he;d have to deal with it every single hour of the day. and that'd embarrass him!!

theyre BOTH overprotective. it's a problem. though, zant in the sense of, "i want him to be all mine, i want to be all he thinks about, i want him by my side every minute of the day", and ghirahim in the sense of, livestock guard dog with spiked collar to murder wolves.

ghirahim has more relationship experience in that he's met many faces in his millennia of living.... but this kind of romantic intimacy is unknown to him. the whole song-and-dance of courtship he knows, but genuine love, he doesn't. zant had one FWB in college that he fell in fairy-tale love with and planned their wedding in his head after one (1) kiss. needless to say when that guy broke up wih him he was very normal.

i think the horny-awkwardness-jealousy levels speak for themselves.

#beararts #ghirazant #zant #ghirahim #doodlies #ship meme #<- in case i make more

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angelofverdum · 6 months ago

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Station 19 S07e10

19!

I'm overwhelmed by feelings. It's amazing how much fictional characters can make you feel.

My hope and wish for the end of these characters was for them to have a resolution and be happy.

Honestly, I can't complain. Maybe I should wait for the excitement to die to write anything about it.

But I love the ending for every character. I loved how they incorporated these "dreams" into the action scenes.

Andy as Chief is a great resolution for her. Jack being her true love was not something I was expecting. I feel it was something they pulled out at the last minute, and don't get me wrong I'm not opposed to it, Andy and Jack could have worked if they had more seasons and Grey wouldn't have left.

Ross. I'd hoped Natasha had something more in mind than marrying Bob but she is always being "My man My man My man" so it's fitting

Robert. One thing I loved about these flashforwards was that they were connected. Sully dreamed of that because in Ross's dream, they were already married, so he got to be with her.

Travis's most important relationship is with Vic. If I had Vic as a friend, I'd be like that too. Uprooting your life like that to move with your best friend is really brave.

Warren is probably my least favorite character but that's because he is boring but he is a good man. I was emotional watching his kids all grow.

Beckett is so unserious because why is he dreaming of Ross' sister.

Vic. She made me cried because she deserves everything that it's good in life. I'm so so so happy she didn't end up with Theo. She is helping people and living her best life. My beautiful queen.

Carina's dream is so important bc she had no one, her brother and mom died, and her father is trash. She was alone and then met this stubborn firefighter and said I want a big family with her, and that's what she did. Bring her back to Grey's you cowards.

Maya. My sweet beautiful, reckless, bisexual, hot, brave, selfless, stubborn, broken Maya. Her future was so bright without clouds. She falls asleep thinking about her wife and three kids. Maya who made me come back for season 2, and here I am seven seasons later, just a mess of emotion.

When I saw Carina enter that bar, it took me a whole ass minute to realize what they were trying to do. Why Carina was there. I'll never forget that excitement and I'll always be thankful for pairing them.

It's so weird to see that kind of representation. We didn't need coming out stories or the usual homophobia. Also, they were proud bisexuals and I'm always thankful that Maya said that with her whole chest. That was so important.

Now, my random thoughts about the episode.

I love the scene with the aluminum thing. That was cool and terrifying.

I loved it when Andy showed up. I was crying like she rescued me.

Danielle is so bad at screaming, her voice cracked up so much.

I loved Maya worried about Andy

I loved Carina suiting up finally. It was so funny.

I loved that we got to see adult Prue, and my god the legacy she is carrying.

I loved to see Andy as chief and Maya as captain.

I loved Carina doing what she preaches. Like Maya my god make yourself useful and give that woman an orgasm.

I'm not a fan of the Deluca-Bishop name tag because I just don't like hyphenating last names in general but I think it is cute they did that little detail for the fans who have really been asking for it.

Now for the last scene, keep in mind, that I've been crying the whole episode. Then this hit

I just laughed out loud. Omg, those are some terrible wigs. What was the point? What were they trying to achieve? To make them look older?

You should have put some gray hair and move it along. Like why they were having a bob off. Why would you do that to them?

Let me clean my eyes with Maya's real bob and the hottest she looked in the show.

Anyway, I'm always thankful when I get to experience a TV show so deeply. Even tho the cancellation is unfair. At least we got a proper ending.

I'm also glad that we got actors who cared deeply about their characters and respected them so much.

I'm a mess but 19 forever.

#station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #andy herrera #vic hughes #danielle savre #stefania spampinato #jaina lee ortiz #barrett doss

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roughentumble · 1 month ago

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oh, i forgot! i worked on this and finished it forever ago, in my notes app. i'd already uploaded a partially finished version, but i filled in the missing pieces, added some yennefer, and gave it an ending. @fangirleaconmigo had liked it the previous time around, so hopefully she likes this finished version! link here to the old version, in case you're curious what got added.

fic summary: geralt gets sent back in time to the dragon hunt, and makes changes at key points in the timeline to lead to a better future. he can't remember that he went back, or what choices he's supposed to make, he just gets vague feelings.

======

geralt wakes up in a daze.

there's something on the tip of his tongue-- like when you don't remember a dream, but you remember the shape of it. he fights to recall it, because it seems so big, so important, as the last strands slip through his fingers. his body wills him to stand up, and so he does, as if he could chase the fragments that way, but moving only seems to dislodge them further. he doesnt even recall falling asleep. he sees-- jaskier, a few feet away with his back to him, far enough he'd have to call out to be heard, and everything is hazy as he stumbles over, some sort of need he cant name thrumming under his skin. he could get angry about it, or-- or...

he places a hand on jaskier's shoulder, and jaskier whips around in surprise, blinking owlishly at him. he starts to say something, brow furrowed with concern and sympathy, but geralt cuts him off with a squeeze of his shoulder. "i think you were right. we should go to the coast."

concern gives way to joy, like the sun breaking through the clouds, lighting up his entire face. "you-- really? actually, you'd want that? what caused the change of heart, did you whack your head or something?" he waves his hand in dismissal, keeps speaking before geralt can interject. "doesn't matter, really, what matters is that you did. i'll pack my things right away, and we can load up dear old roach, and i can compose a stunning ballad out of this whole mess because i am a miracle worker, and-- oh you'll just /love/ the coast i'm /certain/ of it! fine wine and pearls and the salty sea stretching out forever over the horizon, and the sunsets, oh! to die for, truly!"

perhaps he did hit his head. there's dirt in his hair, more than usual, and he doesnt think he woke up in a bedroll... but he can't find it in himself to care. it all came out so easy, and something about it had felt right. he reaches out to take jaskier's hand in his own, and jaskier only trips over his words for a moment, glancing down at them in confusion, then smiling even brighter, if that was even possible. that feels right, too. in the same way he cant put his finger on. he'll examine it later, when he's a little more awake. for now he just pulls jaskier gently by the hand towards camp, so he can do that packing he was talking about.

they leave the mountain, and the cursed dragon hunt, behind, without much fanfare or a word to the others.

===========

he doesnt like the coast much, as it turns out. sand isnt great for poor roach's hooves, salt sticks in his long hair making it unmanagable, and the large swath of ocean in front of him makes him edgy in a way he doesnt want to put a name to, because geralt of rivia does not /do/ being afraid. it's all logic, is what it is, giant sea monsters lurk in those depths, and surely no witcher is equipped to deal with their likes. a certain healthy cautiousness makes sense, he reasons.

he likes jaskier at the coast, though.

happy and free, laughing, backlit by the sun, sand on his cheek and pants rolled up to the knee. fancy shoes dangling from his fingers.

/foolish bard/, he thinks, stepping closer, brushing away the sand, /foolish, silly little bard, never brings the proper footwear anywhere we go./ out loud he says "i'm in love with you."

he watches closely the play of emotions across jaskier's face, the joy morphing into shock, disbelief, mouth gawping open like a fish. in the next moment he's dropped those fancy shoes to grab geralt's head, yanking him down into a kiss that's equal parts frenzy and passion and finally coming home. they kiss until the water laps up to their ankles, arms tangled around each other.

the incoming waves claim just one of jaskier's fancy, impractical shoes, and he curses the sea, running into the water as if he could fish the thing out, or else batter the sea into compliance. geralt laughs, and laughs, and pulls jaskier from the salty sea to kiss him again, and again, and again, even as he complains about his lost shoe. "you'll be compensating me for that, witcher." he warns, shaking his finger.

"wouldn't have it any other way," geralt responds, breathless with joy, and jaskier sinks into his grip.

========

"i want you to come with me. to kaer morhen."

jaskier stares at him with open-mouth. it isnt an offer given lightly. even in all their years of on-again off-again, geralt never extended this particular invitation to yennefer. maybe he was too scared of being known, or too scared of being trapped in one place-- if things went sour when they couldnt just leave, would it go away for ever? she's gone away forever anyway, for all his clinging and carefully calculated space. she said no, and he found-- he found--

years he's spent, dragging his feet. years, and with jaskier it's so old and yet so new, and he's decided that he is sick of the waiting, of the right pace. he wants jaskier with him, now and always. "this winter, the two of us. up in the blue mountains."

jaskier is nodding before geralt can finish speaking, tears welling in his eyes. "i want that too, love. gods, you know i'd follow you anywhere." and then he laughs, free and joyful and it's the best sound geralt's ever heard in his life. jaskier reaches out, touches his cheek, like he's confirming this is real, and geralt leans into his space to press their foreheads together. inhales the scent of his tears mingled with pure joy, and it smells like the ocean.

=================

they keep heading south, because it isnt time to head north yet, and because geralt's got a feeling he'd really like to disprove. can't explain where it comes from, exactly, just that he feels a tug, senses a rumbling in the earth, hears whispers on the streets. he climbs the rocky outcropping while jaskier waits by roach, idle and bored. he wants to be wrong. wants it so badly he hasnt even shared his theory with jaskier. he looks out over the path below.

he is not wrong.

a sea of black and gold. cintra is the gateway to the rest of the north, and it's about to fall.

============

he tells jaskier to wait in the cintran marketplace. if this works, geralt will be able to meet him there without injury, or at least be able to send someone to fetch him. if it doesnt, he'll need to resort to drastic measures, which should put him in jaskier's path too. he's grateful for this decision when he ends up surrounded on all sides by calanthe's men-- he has no doubt jaskier would be able to extract himself from the danger as he always does, but he still doesnt like seeing it. he holds a knife to the throat of an old friend, and wonders why it feels familiar. wishes that it didnt.

when they fall through the portal, dodging calanthe's trap, jaskier is far enough away from their stall that he doesn't hear the commotion-- presumably, anyway. geralt wishes he could see him, just to confirm he was safe, confirm he actually made it, but he's too preoccupied to linger on the thought.

he's led through bullshit and lies, attempts to buck fate, but he can feel the tightening noose of destiny and knows its all pointless. he'll walk away with his child surprise, it's just a matter of whether that leaves him with a target on his back.

calanthe orders him gone, and eist escorts him.

"i remember when you honored the Law of Surprise. what changed?" geralt asks, needs to provoke something real out of one of them, desperately hopes for a chink in someone's armor.

"i had a granddaughter." eist throws at him blithely.

"so protect her." geralt says through gritted teeth. the conversation feels like one he's had a million times. "what if calanthe's wrong? what if they come and ciri is trapped?" he presses.

"i fight side by side with my queen." eist replies, unmoved.

"you put too much faith in that woman."

"well, you weren't there. after pavetta died, calanthe would wake up howling in the night. The Lioness, nearly broken." eist shakes his head, looking off in the distance as he relives the memory. geralt's temples throb, lips ghosting over the words along with him, wondering why the hell it's so familiar. "someone who's able to pull themselves out of that, they'll have my confidence till my final day."

geralt wants to scream. its not enough. it isnt enough. why do their minds never change?

"i need your promise you won't come back." eist says, and geralt pauses in the entryway, weighs his options.

it's so godsdamned familiar. and yet, he cant say anything but the truth. "if i hear ciri's in danger, you know i can't do that."

"i know."

the bars fall.

jaskier was shopping nearby. he hears the clatter, and comes running. its so like them-- somehow they always find each other.

he calls for geralt, running up to place his palms on the bars, face screwed up in fear and outrage.

guards close in, shouting at jaskier to step away from the prisoner, and geralt whips around to face eist. "dont hurt him." geralt pleads.

"he's your companion. a weasly little thing, there when you claimed the law of surprise in the first place. how do i know he wont try to break you out? or take the child surprise for you?" eist asks, and geralt's stomach plummets.

"you're a reasonable man, eist. i understand your commitment to calanthe, but jaskier hasnt done anything. he isn't bound to ciri by destiny, he has no claim to her. nilfgaard is nearly at the border, don't doom him by locking him in the dungeons when he's harmless." he grips the bars tighter, knuckles turning white from the strength of his grip.

eist looks considering, so geralt presses on. "please. as one old friend to another, he's just a bard. don't punish him for my folly."

"we were never old friends." eist disputes. "...but i dont see the harm one bard could cause." relief hits geralt like a tidal wave, and he lets out his breath in one big exhale. "i dont think i've ever seen you scared before." eist cuts a look at him, and his eyes seem to pierce through geralt. he steps closer to speak in a low tone. "nearly at the border, you say?"

geralt nods, trying to project just how seriously he means it. "i wouldnt lie about this."

eist thinks for another moment, then says "i'll get him a guest room in the castle."

geralt's knees nearly buckle with relief. a guest room he can move freely in, and the castle will be the most well-fortified place during the inevitable seige. jaskier has a chance of survival. "no!" he hears for behind him, and he whips around to stare at jaskier.

"no, geralt, i wont leave you! they cant imprison you, you havent done anything!" he presses, tears welling in his eyes. he knows what's coming as well as geralt does, and he stinks of fear. geralt walks to the other side of the small cell to grasp jaskier's hands through the bars.

"jaskier, it's alright. i'll be right where i need to be. it's destiny, remember? i just need to know you'll be safe while i do it." jaskier looks unconviced, but geralt squeezes his hands tighter. "promise me you'll stay in your room. promise you'll wait for me. /promise/."

jaskier blinks back tears. "i promise." he says, and geralt lets out another sigh of relief. he leans forward as jaskier does, foreheads as close to touching as the bars will let them.

"alright. let's go." eist says, and a guard finally steps forward to place a hand on jaskier's elbow. he looks geralt in the eye, shoulders squared, a silent promise that they'll see each other again.

geralt meets his gaze. and then he's taken away.

============

++++++++++++

"this is cirilla. ciri, this is--"

"ah-ah, let me do my own introductions, i get to say it so rarely, after all." he says, cutting geralt off and turning to ciri. his shoulders roll back, posture straightening, carrying himself with a sudden air of gravitas. "my name is julian alfred pancratz, viscount de lettenhove. graduate of oxenfurt, master of the seven liberal arts, and esteemed poet and minstrel, better known throughout the kingdoms as the famed bard jaskier. at your service." he bows deeply, a fluid, graceful movement, and when he comes back up he looks rather pleased with himself.

there's a beat of silence. "...my partner." geralt finishes his earlier statement, eyebrow raised and thoroughly unimpressed. ciri mostly just seems surprised. "don't worry, you get used to the chatter."

jaskier splutters, cheeks turning red in offense. "you! that was a perfectly lovely introduction, you

great big oaf, i dont know why i put up with you."

ciri giggles nervously, then claps a hand over her mouth, a much needed moment of levity for the young girl. it cant last forever, though. geralt says "we need to go to sodden hill."

"why?" ciri asks, dread filling her stomach at the thought of all that destruction, and geralt places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"i think yen is there and i need to find her." he explains, and jaskier rolls his eyes.

"always chasing the old witch," he says, with maybe an undercurrent of jealousy, insecurity. it's something geralt will need to address, but not now. not like this.

"come on, bard." he says as he mounts roach and pulls ciri up with him.

"oh, left to walk as always while she gets the royal treatment? just a simple, gruff 'come bard', like im some dog who'll heel for you, i see how it is. so much for partner." he says with a sniff, and ciri giggles again, still a little uncertain. geralt bites back a smile.

"you can walk the other way, if you please." he replies, and jaskier sputters once more.

they quiet as they reach the battlefield, empty but for destruction and corpses. jaskier holds his nose for the stench.

geralt steps away from them to speak to the first person he sees, a woman in obvious shell-shock, looking around as if she's lost everything. perhaps she has. she looks at and yet through geralt as he speaks to her, seeing him without seeing him. then she speaks, and all of jaskier's disdain falls away with a gasp, hand flying to his chest.

"yennefer is dead."

it hangs in the air, dampening sound, stilling the trees. yennefer is dead. she is no more.

geralt's heart pounds in his ears, and he has so much and so little that he wants to say. he opens his mouth, and then stops. feels so faint, blinks away the fog in his mind, as certainty overcomes him.

"no, she isnt." he says, and tissaia looks at him with such pity, like he's in shock. and he doesnt know why he said it, except that it feels true. he feels almost lightheaded, shaky on his feet, anchored only by his knowledge that yen is alive.

"we are bound by fate. i would feel it if she were dead," he says, and he doesnt know if that's true, but he knows the certainty, and has no other explanation for it. it makes something like hope flicker across tissaia's face, warring with the absolute desolation.

"it cant be," she says, unwilling to trust the words of a strange man she's never met, one who couldnt know

"i'll find her," he says. "we'll meet again."

===

"i'm sorry." jaskier says, his voice so quiet. ciri is uneasily asleep, and jaskier and geralt sit around a fire.

"there's nothing to be sorry for. we'll find her again." geralt says, because it has to be true. it feels true. it must... it must...

jaskier lays a hand on geralt's arm, his voice soft and sympathetic. "then im sorry she's missing." he says, even though he clearly doesnt believe it.

the jealousy and insecurity has bled away now that she's gone. now that he /thinks/ she's gone, anyway. "all our old fighting... it was all so petty. even up till the last--" he stops himself, changes tracks. "...it was all so pointless. i know i pulled you between two people you cared about very much. and im sorry for it."

"i never minded. not really, not the little stuff. you and yen wouldn't be yourselves if you didnt bicker." geralt says, and jaskier shoots him a wane smile. he leans in to kiss geralt's cheek.

"then i promise i'll find something to be catty about when we find her again." he says, tucking geralt's hair behind his ear. "just-- i know this insecurity is gauche, considering the circumstances of her... disappearance. but if we do see her again, you'll still pick me, right?"

"yennefer means very much to me. but now that i have you, you're it for me, jaskier. i promise." he leans in to kiss jaskier on the mouth, short and quick and still so emotional. "she's my destiny, but you're my choice."

jaskier lets out a shaky breath, and pulls geralt in for another kiss.

===========

"tell me, friend, who changed you."

geralt smiles to himself as he considers his answer. "yennefer. ciri." he pauses, looking over at his companion, currently fiddling with a tchochkey on a shelf. "...jaskier." said man turns around when he hears his name, then freezes as if caught, item still in hand. when he meets geralt's eyes, though, he smiles, and geralt smiles back.

"well, you've the girl and the bard. but where is this lovely lady yennefer?" he asks, and geralt's smile falls.

"...she's gone." he says, and jaskier's mouth twists.

"last we heard, she was dead." jaskier says gently, and geralt flinches. he still refuses to believe it.

"she isnt," geralt insists, "but... wherever she is, she's still lost to me. who knows where she's gone to lick her wounds."

there's silence for a moment, pity etched into nivellen's eyes. "...i am sorry." he says, and geralt nods. let him think what he likes. geralt knows better.

=========

+++++++++

eskel says that if he had a princess surprise he would fuck her, and geralt feels blind rage rising in his chest, overpowering his mind as he thinks to ciri, little ciri, broken ciri, /his/ ciri. a child.

eskel would never say that, geralt thinks to himself, the absolute wrongness of it all settling over him like a cloak. something in his chest urges him forward. he wants to take eskel aside and slap sense into him, wants to know what happened to his most trusted brother, his most beloved, his other half, but he feels that same faintness in his head. he's starting to notice it, but it doesnt want to be noticed, it leaves him foggy and confused.

a vague impression seats itself in his mind. it almost sounds like 'i should have...' but it's gone just as quickly. he moves as if in a dream, filling a tankard with white gull, dosing it with sedative hidden away from when they were boys, when they needed to subdue witchers for medical treatment in a full keep.

eskel takes the mug and drinks it so fast, drinks like he's trying to outrun something, drinks like there's horror nipping at his heels. he falls asleep at the table, and geralt volunteers to bring him back to his room. vesemir offers to help, and he has no excuse to turn him down when carrying a full grown witcher's weight is such an ordeal, though he sweats under the collar when eskel cant even drunkenly stumble between them, fully dead to the world. vesemir must know something is wrong. he must.

they get him to his room with a lot of grumbling but no real issues, throw him down on the bed. "he drank himself into quite the stupor," vesemir says with shrewd eyes, brow furrowed.

geralt doesnt know what to say. "what's going on here, geralt?" he asks, and geralt's stomach plummets.

"i have to-- i cant explain, i just have to--" he starts, struggling for the words. "something is wrong. he's hurt." vesemir sends him a look that screams 'duh'.

"so you drug him to work on him in secret? this isnt like you." vesemir says, and geralt gets the crazy urge to laugh, because it isnt like him, he doesnt know what the fuck he's doing, except that he /must/.

witchers are allowed to lick their wounds in private, theyre allowed to come home angry and changed. geralt pushed them all away after blaviken, and none of them held him down, forced him, none of them acted like the mages that made them. he feels sick.

"we have to. vesemir, we--" he starts, grabbing eskel's shirt and lifting it to look at the damage. vesemir holds out a hand to stop him, and then they both fall still with a gasp. there, in his chest, right above his heart, is a piece of embedded wood.

it's big, not like a splinter, maybe the size of a fist, with spindly roots that anchor it, spreading out like veins under the surrounding skin. it pulses, just a bit, and embedded within the center of it is something else, a chunk of rock that almost looks like obsidian. rock gives way to wood gives way to flesh.

"we have to get it out of him." geralt says suddenly, going for the knife at his hip.

"we don't even know what it is," vesemir says, though the disgust is plain on his face. "what if removing it kills him? it could be in too deep."

"and what, just let it grow? it's right above his heart, it'll kill him soon anyway. and it's /moving/." geralt says, and vesemir looks pained.

"...i'll keep him out using somne," vesemir says, "we need to get it out fast but careful. dont leave a single branch behind."

they nod to each other, and geralt heats up the knife using igni, lets the flames lick the blade, then he gets to work.

eskel screams in his sleep, fighting against the drugs, against vesemir's hold, the first touch of heated metal enough to make his whole body tense. the wood contracts, roots tightening visibly beneath his skin, and geralt grits his teeth. one by one he pries them out of his guildsman's flesh, the wood sizzling and popping when touched by the hot blade. blood streams down eskel's chest, and he screams again, whole body arching

the roots convulse in the open air, trying to return to the safe haven of his veins, only to be cut off and thrown to the floor. a new root tries to grow in the old one's place and geralt cauterizes the stump, pressing the flat of the knife to it to produce even louder sizzling. if the thing could scream it would be, and eskel convulses once just like the thing in his chest.

suddenly, footsteps. the other's had heard his screams. lambert bursts in, shouts "what the fuck's going on?!" and geralt shakes his head, knowing what a strange scene they make, how threatening he looks holding a red knife.

"there's no time!" he says.

"go get every healing potion in the keep, now!" vesemir shouts, struggling not to break his own concentration. there's stillness, and then some of the gathered witchers run to do as told, while the rest watch in silent horror

geralt gets his nails under the edges of the thing and begins to lift, eskel once more arching up to follow him. it moves agonizingly slow, tearing eskel's flesh as the bark is dragged past his delicate muscle tissue. it seems to go on and on as geralt pulls, and to his own horror, he realizes something. it isnt just growing out, it's growing down. down into him, down towards his heart.

sweat drips down vesemir's forehead from holding the sign so firmly and so long. the root on the bottom extends down into eskel's chest, down towards his heart. geralt has to act fast and careful all at once.

his knife wasnt made for cutting wood, but he pushes it between the lump and eskel's body anyway, carving away at the spot where the root connects to the whole. there's so much fucking blood, he can barely see, and he has to drag the knife back and forth to get even the tiniest bit of progress, utterly devoid of leverage or the proper teeth to dig into the plant's flesh. then, finally, with a twist of his wrist, he snaps the wood chunk free from the root, cauterizes it, and throws it to the floor. only one last step.

he pushes flesh aside and sees the root go down, wrapped firmly around a rib, and then...

his heart. beating. right out there in the open, skin and muscle shoved aside to make way for that /THING/. the root is wrapped around the heart, squeezing, causing his convusions, and geralt feels sick, but there's no time to stop or wait. vesemir's control is slipping. blood is flowing faster now.

his fingers slip through blood and fat and viscera and things meant to be kept inside as he tries to untwist the root from the shock-white of eskel's rib bone. it snaps, apparently brittle now that it's disconnected from the whole, and geralt throws another piece at his feet. his hands arent clean, arent washed, but there's no goddamn time, so he slides a finger down beside his other half's very heart and hooks the back of the root. pulls so slow, so careful.

it pops free with a spray of blood, and all falls still.

"g'r'lt?" comes slurred from the bed. "did th't come outta' me?" eskel asks, and then immediately falls unconcious once more.

vesemir slumps against the wall. "gwain, coen," he says, panting just a bit, "the pig we were keeping for meat? slaughter it. we need a skin graft, clean and quick. everard, merek, sutures and everything else we need to clean and bandage."

only lambert remains, pale and silent, staring at the floor where the pieces of now inert wood rest. time seems less linear, suddenly, and nobody has much clue how much of it passes. all they know is that lambert cleans up the pieces of foreign blood-soaked thing into a jar for safekeeping, and the supplies filter in. eskel gets healing daughts poured down his throat, and geralt keeps working to stitch his chest together with pig skin, wont let anyone else touch him. they both breathe easier once the final stitch is in place, and geralt steps back with shaking hands as the other witchers wipe down his skin, slather it in healing poultices, and cover him in bandages. geralt falls asleep on the floor, trembling, without the sense in his head to clean away his brother's blood.

when eskel wakes up, he thanks them. tells them his head felt wrong, something whispering in it, ever since that leshen got one lucky shot. says the leshen didnt look right, didnt act right, that he couldnt remember how to kill it once it embedded in his chest. "it's like it went to seed in him," vesemir says in horror, and everyone shakes their heads, and they dont know what to do. but eskel is there. he is weak, and he is bedridden, and he is /there/.

finally, kaer morhen can rest.

=========

vesemir doesnt think these flowers are the answer. he doesnt recognize them-- though if he knew every part of the formula, it wouldnt be lost to him as well. still, though, it doesnt sound right to his ear, even if he doesnt know as much about flora as one might if they'd dedicated their life to the study of it. he can imagine, though, being desperate enough to believe it. he thinks back to eskel, and how they'd almost lost him to such a stupid error. he feels the loss of their way of life, their traditions, weighing on his shoulders in a way he never thought he'd face in his lifetime.

the little scrap of paper in her hand is so innocuous. and even if it's wrong, or merely an approximation of what once was, he feels the need to keep it, to catalogue it, preserve it as he has everything else in the keep... even the unsavory ones. the metal rack so many boys died on, that countless others were changed in, /chained/ in, sitting in the basement like it's a coffee table. like it's nothing. like it isnt horrific.

but it's all he has. and it's what they needed.

his fingers curl around the paper. "how many other people know of this blossom? would be likely to put two and two together?" he asks.

"not many at all, i would imagine. even fewer would know how to apply the knowledge , or enough inner workings of witchers to make the leap. and it's only a theory, anyway, i cant confirm it as of yet." she replies, watching him closely.

their numbers, so weakened, so devastated. the continent is running out of monsters, but it hasnt run dry just yet-- witchers are still needed, and theyre dwindling. and yet...

he flicks his fingers, and the page goes up in flames. a little cast of igni, and suddenly the secret is unknown once more. "cant let anyone know how we're made-- sorcerers have been after the information for as long as there have been witcher schools. no telling what havoc they'd wreak across the continent if they had the recipe. and... there will be no more boys."

he looks at the ashes in his hand, and he aches in ways he doesnt have words for, for the life he had and the men he lost and all those boys. "i thank you for your diligence, and your offer," he says diplomatically, "but i urge you to forget what you've discovered, and tell no one. and if you do decide to divulge our secrets, then i can only pray your approximations were wrong."

she had looks surprised when the fire burst to life, but understanding settles across her features.

there will be no more potions. no more blood spilt for these old stones. and there will be no more boys. he never even mentions their clandestine conversation to ciri. she deserves her choices, but she's a traumatized child, and he's an adult. he doesnt need to burden her with this.

=====

+++++

"yennefer of vengerberg." jaskier says in awe. cant believe geralt was right. cant believe she's alive. "shouldve known you wouldnt stay dead, rotting necrophage that you are," he says, catty and mean and a little breathless because she's /alive/. but then her arms are around him, and she's hugging him so tight he can barely breathe, and he lets out a shocked grunt. "uh? hugging? you're hugging me, you do know you're hugging me, right?" he asks, mouth running faster in his confusion.

"oh jaskier," she says, "it's so good to see you."

"good. to see /me/. did you hit your head at sodden? is that where you've been all this time, wandering the countryside mindlessly?" he asks, and she snorts. snorts! like he's funny! which he is, but she's never admitted it before.

"oh how i miss when my problems were as small as a single sing-songy twit." she says fondly, taking him by the shoulders and leaning back to take a look at him.

"now i'll never admit to having said this, i'll deny it if you ever try to tell... but i am very glad you're not dead, yennefer." it comes out so damn soft, and for all their bickering it's hard not to be soft about someone you've known at least ten years. he cradles her arms in his palms, so they're both holding each other but at arm's length. "but i really must ask, where the hell have you been? we've been looking for you!"

"it's a long story," she says evasively, and he narrows his eyes.

"ah, well, if it's long then you certainly wouldnt want to tell it twice." he says, and leads her down the corridor, towards a closed door. "here," he says gently as he pushes it open, "i figure if you're here, you'd like to see geralt, too."

the room goes so still. "i knew," geralt says. "i knew we'd find each other." he says, and yennefer runs into his open arms for a hug, stress melting away as she tucks her face into his neck. for the first time in a long time, she feels /safe/.

jaskier watches them fondly, shoulder resting against the doorway. they'll have time for questions and answers. for now they can just be happy the world has a touch less death in it.

=======

"yen," he says gently. "im sorry for what i said. you would make an excellent mother."

yen's face does something complicated. "geralt--"

"ciri will need one." he says, and yen recoils in shock, to hear him offer it so plainly.

"so-- what, you want you and i to play house with your little orphan?" she asks, and it comes out harsh, but she doesnt take it back. geralt shakes his head.

"it wouldnt be like that. im... im with jaskier now." geralt replies, and that makes yen's eyebrows fly up in shock. "we wouldnt be... together like that. but we would be friends. partners. equals. i think it might be good for us, to take the heartache out of the equation. and ciri needs a teacher, someone like you. i think you'd be good for each other." he pauses, and when yen has nothing to say to that, he says "think about it."

she steps through a portal with ciri anyway. she sees him beg them not to leave, and she walks away anyway. but his offer rings in her head as loud as voleth meir's promises, and halfway to their destination yennefer brings them to a stop. ciri is so bright. so bright and beautiful, and with such great power, hair like geralt's and a heart like geralt's, so hurt and yet longing so deeply for love, and she looks at yennefer with such /trust/. so much trust, and she's leading this doe-eyed girl astray, what could be hers, what /should/ be hers, and yennefer is tired of sacrificing and sacrificing and sacrificing. she loves hard and she loves vicious and she loves selfishly, and when ciri demonstrates her powers yen thinks /my daughter did that. my. mine./

she thinks /you cannot have her,/ she thinks /you will not take this from me,/ she thinks, /i will no longer have no choice. i have a choice. i am making it./

and she turns on her heel and leads ciri in an entirely different direction. she leads ciri away from doom that ciri never even knew was hanging over her head. voleth meir screams, and she walks away anyway, down a road where she knows an equally angry geralt will find her. she only hopes she can talk him out of his rage before he sends her away.

====

"i want to know where yennefer of vengerberg is going." geralt says to codrinher and fenn. they look at each other, and then back at him.

"and you think we know this? we dont keep track of EVERY person on the continent, geralt." fenn replies

"i dont have time for games. i just need something, anything. where was she recently. she has--... someone very dear to me. and i must find them." geralt says, hands balled into fists.

they exchange a look. "we truly cant tell you her whereabouts. she hasnt been seen in quite a while. all that's known is that she was mumbling to herself last she was seen, before she vanished."

"what was she saying?" he presses, and codringer looks thoughtful.

"something like 'turn back to the forest, turn back to your mother'?" he says, scratching his chin.

"turn your back to the forest, hut hut. turn your front to me, hut hut." geralt says, understanding dawning on him.

"could be. our ears on the ground didnt hear it any clearer." fenn says, seemingly annoyed that there's information she doesnt know.

"i know where she's going " he says, throws a bag on coins on the table, and leaves as quick as he came.

===

geralt has his sword drawn before they even see him, terror lancing through him at the idea of ciri being taken to that being. ciri shouts with joy when she spots him, then with fear as he presses his sword to yen's throat. she lets him, no fight in her.

"i couldnt do it. i turned back. back to you." she swears, and geralt glances between the two of them, trying to assess if ciri is alright.

"geralt, what are you /doing/," she begs, looking so young and so frightened.

"what did she promise you? money? power?" geralt asks, betrayal running deep, burning him up inside, because he'd /trusted/ yen, and first chance she got she ran off with his child. /his/. to sacrifice her to something old and foul.

yen looks decimated. "...i cant be ciri's teacher. my magic... it's gone." yen says, and geralt startles at that. then she whispers, soft and broken and desperate, "geralt, she's in my head."

suddenly geralt sees her for what she is. someone very hurt, and very alone, who fought through the promises and manipulations of a demon to bring his daughter back to him. he slowly lowers his sword and pulls yennefer into an embrace. "we'll fix it." geralt promises

====

it doesnt get any easier to ignore voleth meir, but she looks around and sees kaer morhen, and the family that she's been welcomed into, and remembers that she's allowed to stay. that she has fought tooth and nail for every inch of her life until now, and she can keep fighting. that ciri is /hers/.

she teaches magic anyway, without demonstrations. it's hard for ciri, and it's hard for yen, but she isnt as worthless as she feared she'd be powerless. ciri looks up to her. ciri hugs her. ciri asks her hair be plaited for dinner. ciri is her choice, and she makes it every morning.

until one morning, it changes.

it starts small, just a creep, just a tickle. but she snaps her fingers, and a book by her bedside begins to float.

she'd burned herself out, ran her magic dry, scorched the channels it flowed through, but it healed. it came back with time. it was always going to come back with time.

she collapses to her knees and sobs, sobs like a child, for what has been returned to her.

and without her magic to tempt her, voleth meir loses her foothold in yennefer's mind. the whispers quiet and fade until theyre nothing but a memory.

and finally, yennefer is free.

=========

when geralt lays down that night, he dreams.

"ive found a djinn," yen says,

and geralt sees himself ask "another one?"

"except i wont try to tame this one." yen says, insists that it could be the answer to their problems. "we could keep ciri safe, teach her how to use her powers, if we phrase them just right the wishes could be the thing that saves us."

the scene changes. once more, he has a seal in his hand. "i wish i had the hindsight not to get into these problems anymore." he says, because he never makes the right choice.

the dream falls away with the sunlight streaming in, bright on his face. he looks down around him, at the little family he's created; jaskier by his side, ciri's head in his lap and feet near his face, yennefer asleep on a cot with her hand on ciri's. and he decides that this time he did make the right choice. he decides that he's happy.

#witcher tag #ogc tag #writing tag #did i really never post this??#if i posted this before and just forgot then everyone ignore me #witcher #geraskier #the witcher

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