#listen they did an amazing job animating shadow i don’t know what to tell you he is the most grief ever Keanu Reeves was such a right choice

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

No but fr who decided Shadow’s expressions should be like that he is the most HURT looking guy through that entire movie

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Learn to Fly

CW: Self-loathing, some internalized victim-blaming, references to parental death and grief, VERY vague reference to past noncon once or twice

Note: I made a decision to switch a little of the timeline around, so Laken and Chris’s breakup at this point happens after the original conversations about the Speak Out Arc start happening but before the Olympics themselves. I’m folding this bit into the larger Speak Out Arc.

Follows Time Apart and It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped

-

He curls up on the couch in the coffeeshop, sipping something warm he barely tastes. It might have coffee in it - he feels a little drowsy, and that usually happens when there’s just a little caffeine.

Maybe that’s just because he hasn’t slept since Jake was hurt, not really. And he’s slept even less since... since he and Laken broke up.

Outside, there's unseasonable heavy rain. The clouds are low and heavy, a deep gunmetal gray that blocks out the light and has the streetlights on at 9:30 in the morning. The raindrops seem less to fall than to slam into the ground with terrible violence. 

The baristas talk in low voices about how grateful they are for the rain, burying the wildfires outside the city in a deluge the heat can’t overcome. Chris likes the rain, too, if only because it reflects the inside of him, suggests that the world can tell he is a storm within himself and reflects it to him.

He takes another sip.

He hasn’t showered in three days. His hair is dulled with it, like a penny left too long in the dirt.  He’s dressed himself like he used to, back before when he was still learning he was a person and not a pet - in one of Jake’s hooded sweatshirts over his compression shirt, so oversized on him it’s nearly a tunic, and a pair of mesh basketball shorts. His knees still look knobby, he thinks.

He can see the ghosts of the bruises there that used to never quite heal before his Sir sent him to his knees and made new ones to lay over them. He can see a couple of scars, some from training when the baton would crack into the backs of his legs and send him dropping like a stone, some from gymnastics, some from just being a kid.

Chris’s eyes lower, to look at his own hands holding his coffee cup. He put star stickers on his nails last night, and a few of them have already peeled off. Those that remain glitter, just a little. 

Something about the sight of it - the memory of when he put star stickers on Laken’s cheekbones at a concert until they sparkled under the starlight, laughing, a blur of bright eyes and dark hair - makes his throat nearly close, sends a new rush of tears to burn hot behind his eyes.

He has to close them to hold them back.

“You’ve had a hard time of late, have you, then?”

The voice is a rumble, cracked with decades of cigarettes and too much liquor, but Chris remembers it, anyway. At least, he remembers it now.

He turns to look up at the old man, in his shirt and slacks, a bit bent with age. There’s a merry twinkle in his slightly rheumy eyes, though, that shows that a young man is still there, under an old man’s experiences. There’s a slight smile on his face, warm and welcoming. 

Chris swallows, struggling to find the words. They flit away from him, he has to chase them down, but eventually he manages to clear his throat and says, “I, I, um. I know you. You, you, you knew my dad.”

“I did, at that. Worked with him for years.” The old man settles onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space, a nice wide berth for safety. “What’s got you looking like a television commercial for depression, hm, Tristan?”

No one calls him that. 

Chris feels his heart twist, a little. 

By the time they saw the meteor, Tris, it was already too late for anything but a blink or two. When it touched down into land, it was so big the end of it was still in space. Can you imagine anything so big? Can you?

No, Dad.

 The earthquakes alone would have been immense thousands of miles away. Imagine, you’re eating leaves, living your life, and you see a shadow - and then in an instant, the world is shaking and you’re breathing glass. How does life go on after that?

I, I, I don’t know, um, um... how how does it?

It just does. That’s what’s amazing, Tris. It just goes on.

“Nothing. I, I, I broke up with my, my partner is all.”

“Hm, that nice young person who comes with you to the shops?” The old man nods, slowly. He’s got his own cup of coffee, plain black, steaming gently into the air-conditioning. Outside, the rain creates a curtain that walls them off from everything else. Chris can’t even see all the way across the street. He can barely see a woman with an umbrella racing from her car into the nail salon place off to the side. 

“Yeah, them. I’m, um. It wasn’t anything they they they did.”

It’s something I did.

It’s something I am.

It’s something I’ll never stop being.

“Well, breakups do happen now and again. Usually the one who does the leaving isn’t the one who does the moping about and staring at rain, though.”

“I didn’t want to.” Chris sits back, keeping his coffee cup in one hand. The other drops to his stomach, to tap, soothing his nerves at being so close to a man he knows and doesn’t-know. His memories are there, fuzzy and hazy from being overwritten by fear and pain, but they’re there. He knows this man, Mr. Malley, who would watch him sometimes when his parents went out, or when his father needed to stop by work.

The memories are there, but they still hurt. 

His head starts to throb, a pulsing pain behind his temples. 

“I didn’t-... I, I love them, I d-didn’t want to.”

“Well, now, that’s a conundrum, isn’t it? Are you moving, then, Tristan?”

It hurts to hear his name, but it hurts in a way that feels good. He was that person, too, before he was Chris. He hums, low under his breath. “No. I, I, I just… you know, um, I’m just. I’m… hard. Difficult. To, to, to, to be with, to, um, to-... there’s a bunch wrong with-... with me.”

“You sound like your dad.” Mr. Malley laughs, a deep chuckle that rumbles more in his chest than out of his throat. “You know that? You sound just like him.”

Chris ignores the pain in his head and he turns, now, to look fully at Mr. Malley, blinking rapidly. “My, my, my dad?”

“Yep. Paul was a good man, and a good dad, but before he was that he was a scared boy with a baby on the way and a plan that might not work.” Mr. Malley sighs. “A scared boy who’d always had it a little rough, trying to make the world work for him when it did nothing but work against him. You were always his spitting image. He’d probably be tickled to see you still are.”

There is a sense, in Chris’s mind, of a blurry man with short red hair, sitting near him but not quite touching him, speaking with animation about how there are dinosaurs that lived closer to human beings than they did to other dinosaurs.

He remembers a man whose eyes sparkled with animated focus when he talked about the world millions of years ago, who loved him by sharing the information he held within his own mind.

He and his dad had understood each other, in ways that no one else did but his mother, and Chris was beginning to see that it had been her determination to know him that had fueled his mother’s actions, her endless support. The same way Jake and Nat were determined, and stubborn, and kept trying even when they got it wrong. 

Everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean they aren’t trying. 

Maybe he got it wrong.

“He never broke up with your mom, but oh, he thought about it. You know, when he came to work with us, he had a plan. But plans… they have a way of going off the road and into a ditch. He worried he couldn’t make it work, he worried that it would be too hard for Ronnie to be with him and have a child, too.”

Ronnie.

Chris’s throat closes up, and he closes his eyes. 

All right, Tris, I got you these so the noise won’t bother you so much. We’re going to have a good day at the parade, okay?

“Her family never liked him, for one. That’s a rough spot to be in, I think.” Mr. Malley is quiet for a moment, sipping his coffee and watching the rain fall. “Ronnie didn’t see it that way, of course. That woman was a freight train and God help anyone who got in the way. My late wife, God rest her soul, helped Ronnie with some things when her own family wouldn’t. She’d come over big as a house, eyes sparkling. You were a kicker, she used to say, kept her up all hours of the night. Just a girl, still, your mom, but she had a steel spine and she wasn’t going to live any life but the one she wanted. But your dad… he worried, that it would be too hard on her.”

“Having, um, having me would?”

“No. Having him. Paul was a smart man, you know. He knew his job would be trouble. He gave her chance after chance to go, if she wanted. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? She didn’t.”

Chris looks at his phone, lying on the little table in front of the couch. There’s some text messages he hasn’t looked at. Couple of voicemails he hasn’t listened to. 

“Maybe he, he, he didn’t want to keep hurting her,” Chris whispers. 

“Hurt’s a part of living, lad, take it from someone who’s given out his fair share of it and more.” Mr. Malley hums. Outside, a car pulls up, almost bumping the curb. “Perhaps you’re meant to separate from your young partner, Tristan, perhaps not. It’s like I told your dad, way back in the Stone Age. You choose if you love someone, to be sure, but they choose if they love you back. You can’t decide that for them.”

“But, but I’m-... but, but I’ve been… what I am, it’s-”

“I know what you’ve been made to do,” Mr. Malley says gently. “You don’t have to explain, lad. We knew.”

Chris’s lips tremble. He doesn’t want his coffee any longer. He sets it down next to his phone, on the little table. The baristas talk quietly about a date that one went on the night before, there’s a low sound of machinery. It all filters into Chris’s mind, a cacophony of sound he picks apart or doesn’t. Right now it’s hard for him to think around all the sound, but he tries. “Then, then, then why… if you knew, um, why… didn’t you-”

He can’t finish the question. 

Why didn’t you save me from it?

“We couldn’t. It’s shite, is what it is, but we couldn’t. And by the time we could, you were with that nice young man who you live with now. I’m sorry for the time you lost, Tristan, and sorrier still I can’t give it back to you somehow. You’re your dad’s child through and through, but you’ve got your mother in you, too. You know what Ronnie did when there was something she couldn’t get through?”

Chris turns to look at this man, who knew his mother and father in ways he never could have. He swallows. “What?”

“She went over it. Or around it. Or blew it to smithereens and went through the wreckage. Whatever it took. They tried to kick you out of school when you were a wean, she fought them ‘til they realized they’d never win against her. They tried to tell her you wouldn’t read, she told them to go, well, to go sit on a thing or two and not to tell her what her boy could or couldn’t do.”

Chris thinks of Nat sitting next to him on the floor, patiently encouraging him to keep trying to turn the letters into words, despite his headaches, his tears, his certainty he’d never get reading back.

You will, Chris. I know you will. Just keep fighting for it. They won’t take anything from you forever, I won’t let them and you won’t let them either.

Don’t let them keep you from yourself.

“They told her she’d never have a happy life, having a wee one so young, but she built that happy life anyway with her own two hands and dared anyone to try and knock it down.”

“Someone… some, someone did, though.” The gunshots, his mother’s eyes going dull and blank, her whispered I love you so much, Tris…

“Sure. Yes.” Mr. Malley’s expression goes serious, and sad. “But it took breaking into her house at midnight and bullets to stop her. You’ve got plenty of your mom in you, lad. Plenty of your dad, too, he was always a stubborn git himself. Do you love this person you’ve broken up with? Hm?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation, even though his voice shakes and his heart races. “I, I, I do. That’s, that’s why I don’t want to-to keep hurting them by, by, by by being messed up from what, um, from what happened to me, I don’t… I don’t want to keep h-hurting them-”

“Let them decide how they feel about that,” Mr. Malley says, voice gentle and low. “Plenty of people are hurt and find their way forward together after.”

Jake and Kauri, laughing in the kitchen as Jake spins Kauri around in a circle, dips him backwards, presses a kiss to his nose that has him giggling. 

Antoni at the stove, sighing but with a smile on his face, watching them. Being pulled into the hug not quite against his will, all three of them laughing then. Kauri bright and sparkling, Jake a deeper harmony, Antoni soft and genuine. 

“Maybe it won’t last, maybe it will - but don’t let a hard past keep you from the people who love you. I’ve seen many ruined by believing you may only be loved if you’ve no pain inside you. We’ve all got pain, lad. Carrying it together’s a sight easier than trying to go it alone.”

From the car parked right outside, an elderly man unfolds himself, opening an umbrella to shield from the driving rain. Mr. Malley looks up and smiles. “Ah, right on time, must be ten sharp. That’ll be Cilly. D’you remember Cilly, lad?”

Chris looks as the man shuffles his way inside, pushing open the door. The little bell over the top jingles and the baristas cut off their conversation, standing up straight to call out a familiar greeting to a regular customer. 

He squints.

“Not… not very well,” He confesses, a little ashamed.

“Ah, well, that’s not a problem. He and I’ve known each other a long time. I was an angry man for a while after my wife died, you know. Seemed a crime that I should outlive her, when Christa deserved to live to a hundred and six if she so wished. Cilly helped me carry that anger when I needed to be angry, and he helped me put it down later on.” 

He gives a wave to the man - to Cilly - who looks at Chris and then back to Mr. Malley with clear surprise, then heads towards the counter to make his own order. 

“Be angry, Tristan,” Mr. Malley says, a little heavily, leaning over to him on the leg as he pushes himself, with a grunt of effort to his feet. “You may need your anger, in the days ahead. But if you’ve a love to help you carry it, who wants to help you carry it and who will be angry right there with you, and you love them back… well… don’t let the wickedness of others keep you from the happiness you could have. You’ll be a poorer person for it.”

Mr. Malley walks away without another word, leaving Chris by himself again on the couch, tapping at his stomach, thinking. He keeps looking at his phone, thinking about all the texts he hasn’t read, the way he’s refused to call them back when Laken kept trying to reach him.

He leans over to reach out.

He stops, hand hovering just above the plastic with its colorful case, the sensory sticker on the back of it that Laken had bought him. 

What happened after all the dinosaurs died, Tristan?

I, I, I don’t know, Dad.

Trick question, buddy. They didn’t. Paul’s eyes, bright and vibrant, gesturing to a bird in a tree nearby. Nothing stays the same and lives forever except alligators and sharks.

Right because, because they’re perfect.

Exactly. Dinosaurs died, sure, but they didn’t die, too. They just changed to suit the world after the one they knew how to live in was gone. Imagine, Tris. 

Imagine what?

Imagine the world destroyed and in darkness, buried in ash. Everything you know is gone, ruined, wrecked beyond repair. And imagine… imagine that you learn to eat seeds and little mice instead of big animals and leaves. Imagine you become smaller and smaller. Imagine that your arms turn to wings, that your bones hollow out to carry you higher above the piles of ash that turn to grass and to life again.

What? I, I, I don’t, um, I don’t understand-... Dad, um, I don’t, I don’t... know what you mean.

Right, sorry. Just... imagine you’re a dinosaur.

He’d laughed. Okay.

Now imagine your dinosaur family is gone, and you have to become something else. What do you become? Being a dinosaur means dying, right?

Um. Right.

So imagine that you look at death and say, no thanks. No, you’re not going to be over. This isn’t it for you. Even a meteor the size of the entire sky can’t end you. Instead of dying out, no, you look at history, at geological time, and you say…

Paul had trailed off.

Say what? What, what do I say?

Don’t tell your mom but-... you look at the end of the world and you say... fuck this, I’m going to learn to fly.

Chris picks up his phone, finds Laken’s name and photo in his contacts. It’s a photo of the two of them together, Chris and Laken smiling and laughing as he smears whipped cream on their nose and they smear a cross of fluffy white into his forehead. 

He dials.

They pick up on the third ring.

“Chris? Oh my God, Chris, are you okay? Are you-... are you okay, baby?” Their voice shakes, and he closes his eyes. 

This time, he lets the tears slip out and run down his face. “H-Hey, Laken, um, I, I, I-... I’m… I wondered if you, um, if you could, uh… are you busy?”

“Am I-... Chris, where are you?”

“The, um, the coffeeshop-”

“I’m on my way. Don’t you dare fucking move.”

At their usual table, at their usual time, Cilly and Sean Malley start to talk amicably about the week ahead. But he keeps an eye on Paul’s boy, where he speaks a few sentences and then hangs up the phone, looking out the window at the rain.

It’s twenty minutes before a new car pulls up outside, and umbrella-less, the partner Sean has seen with Tristan before comes racing inside, a blur of black clothes and black hair and brown skin. Paul’s boy stands, and his partner throws themself at him so hard the two of them fall backwards onto the couch.

They start laughing, and shortly after to cry. 

Their hands come up to either side of Tristan’s face, and they lean forward to kiss the scar on his forehead. He can’t hear what they say to each other, but he doesn’t need to. 

Ronnie, he thinks, would like this spitfire person that Paul’s boy is so in love with. 

That’s one wrong put right, at least for the moment.

One more to go.

Sean smiles and sips his cooling coffee.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

Just Go On from Kimmy Schmidt

[danielxricciardo]

Can you do one with Max, with 46 and 55 from angst list?

Summary: You are suffering from depression and Max tries to be by your side

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of suicide, depression

Word count: 3.6k+

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

Depression feels like a lot of things.

It feels like sadness, which is what everyone will tell you. It's a pretty common thread.

"I'm worthless."

"Everyone thinks I'm a horrible burden."

So on and so forth.

Everyone in the world is happy but you, and in the end, you are a worthless piece of shit that doesn't belong in this otherwise glorious and happy place. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you are lying there on your bed in the same unlaundered pair of pajamas, wondering why you are even allowed to keep living any longer. Some meteor strikes or lightning bolts should be reserved for people like you because you are taking up space and oxygen and food and other resources that real, happy, productive people need.

It feels like emptiness. You have all these possibilities and none of them seem interesting. You could do some art, or play some music, but that just doesn't feel right. There's no joy in it. You could have sex with your significant other, but you can't muster up the desire. You could play video games, or read a book. But what's the point? There's no real benefit to all of it but passing the time. You could get up and make lunch. But no, you're not that hungry, and if you close your eyes, time will pass a little faster. You can lie there. That works. It doesn't require active effort to do something fruitless. Everything is as empty and fruitless as lying and staring out your window at the clouds and the shifting shadows of tree branches, and so why do anything else?

It feels like fatigue. Standing up out of your bed requires the same amount of bodily effort as climbing several flights of stairs. Managing to get dressed and walk outside is like running a race. Heaven helps you if you try to go to the store or a friend's house -- that may as well be on the other side of the continent. Every step is heavy. Every muscle motion requires ten times the work it used to. Exercise becomes difficult, and control over your body expires quickly. You become clumsier, so heavy lifting is right out. You daze out randomly, daydreaming, even dozing, so biking or running is hard. You feel most at home when you are entirely relaxed, so you lie down...and don't get up again until something like your bladder compels you.

It feels like a loss of control. You have no idea why your brain and body are doing this. You don't want to feel sad. Nobody wants to feel shitty and tired and empty all the time. People will look at you and say, "It's like you don't want to get better." Those people are idiots. You truly, deeply, from the bottom of your soul, have no idea why this has happened or what to do. It's not logical. It makes no sense. You woke up like this, or it crept in overtime or something like that. It's like a fog, a force of nature that sweeps in, occludes everything, and there's not one thing you can do about it from where you stand. Trying feels like taking a paper fan outside and trying to blow away the morning mist. Someone has tied puppet strings to your brain and is playing this hideous dance with it, and you don't have the scissors to cut them away. The dance doesn't make sense; it's arbitrary and rhythmless. If you had any sort of reasoning behind it, you could take control. But you don't.

It feels like desperation. You can't find a way out. You lie there at night, keening into your pillow like a wounded animal, making all sorts of noises that no human being should be able to make. You claw and scratch at the sheets, or at yourself, as the pain wrings itself out through bodily expression. The tears won't stop. You don't know why. All you know is that it hurts, it really and truly hurts, and you think if it goes on any longer, you're going to die. Right there. Bleed out on the floor. So you grab up your phone, and you call someone at 4 AM, and you beg them to please just make it stop. You bury yourself in books and movies because at least then you can imagine something else than yourself. You read nonstop. You have to have your fix. It's like an addiction, no, more like a life support machine. Otherworlds, fantasies of happiness, and real experiences that aren't your horrible existence become the iron lung keeping air flowing in and out. You are alive because you can stop thinking for a while. Your friends come over to comfort you. Their stories keep you sane and well, like dialysis for all the toxins in you. Your mind has failed at being independent, and now it relies on a thousand little machines to keep itself running. You rely on one machine until another comes to save you. You read books until your friends come by. You stretch out your time with friends until you have to bury yourself in a movie again just to keep the thought of real-life away.

It feels like untamed anger. Your friends can't keep this up forever. You fall further and further, and you eventually start dropping commitments. You have become That Person, the flake that everyone knows will back out. People start getting annoyed at you, annoyed at how they have to spend so much time just keeping you afloat, annoyed at how often you're causing them trouble by constantly disappearing and backing out of appointments, and so on. Your workplace gets annoyed at your lack of productivity. And then you can't take it anymore, and you want to scream at them, grab them by the throat and shake them because IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! You start having twisted fantasies, the ones where you walk up to that person who keeps telling you he can't do this anymore, you're just too unreliable, putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. Just to make him know, for once, that FUCK HIM, your problems are REAL, DAMMIT, REAL, and he better FUCKING RESPECT that. And when you're gone, he'll fall to his knees and cry, and he'll say, he wishes he had understood, that he didn't mean to be so unkind, and the scar on his heart from his own failure will remain fresh and knotted for eternity. And then you shake yourself out of the daydream, and you wonder why you have turned into such a horrible person, someone who even considers ending their own life just to spite another human being. Then it creeps back in, the knowledge that the world is getting fed up with you...and the cycle begins again. You start thriving off these daydreams, because at the very least if you can't be happy, you can throw caution to the wind and get the petty, oddly satisfying revenge buried under all those layers of morality that are becoming worn and flaking away. It's just a fantasy, right? And it helps pass the time...

It feels like forever. You have forgotten what it's like to truly be joyful. You can imagine it, but it's not really you in those thoughts. This is who you are. This is your life. This is you.

It feels like you have only one thing truly under your power: your existence. You cannot choose what life throws at you. Your brain and body have betrayed you. Your friends have worn away, and you've fled from your job and any commitments you have.

It feels empowering. You can jump whenever you want.

But he accepted you the way you are. He never reproached you for negatively influencing his mentality or life, even though you knew he felt it too. He always listened to you, he was with you even at 2 in the morning when you were crying on the bathroom floor with your knees to your chest, and you knew it wasn't right. It wasn't right for him to go through, basically, what you were going through. But no matter how much you told him you could do it without his help, Max was coming back more insistently than ever.

He came up with the idea to start therapy. "You have to find out why you feel this way. Go at least once, see how it is, if you don't like it or feel that it doesn't help you, you will give up, okay?" That was a year and a half ago.

The psychologist gave you a diagnosis from the first session: Major Depressive Disorder. Sure you knew what the three words meant, but you didn't know what it meant to have a label on your condition.

"A major depressive disorder is characterized by one or more of these depressive episodes. the diagnosis of major depressive disorder requires depressed mood or anhedonia which is the loss of interest in pleasure and five or more signs or symptoms for the SIGECAPS mnemonic for a 2-week period. (SIGECAPS) Sleep Disturbance, loss of Interest, feeling Guilty, feeling fatigued and low in Energy, having decreased Concentration, decreased or increased Appetite and been agitated and slow and having Suicidal ideation."

It sounds incredible to you. Suicidal thoughts? Not everyone has a thought, somewhere, behind their mind 'What if I disappeared?'

You were prescribed Prozac and Zoloft and it helped. You weren't always sad anymore, you could go to the races with Max and support him as a normal girlfriend does. You apologized to my friends who tried to help me and whose lives you made impossible and you managed to get back to work, from home anyway. Sure, you still had moments when you felt like you weren't 100% yourself but not like before. You did therapy twice a week and the psychologist was happy with your evolution.

But being the stupid ass that you are, you stopped taking the medication. You took the last pill on Friday. Because you were fine. You felt ok, everyone around you told you you were better, you were doing amazing, so you were cured, right? Or so you thought. Saturday was normal. Sunday was not. Your mood and energy were very low. You woke up at like 2 in the afternoon. That is not unusual for you. You’re used to it. You were sad. You were exhausted. You knew that feeling like this was “no excuse” so you tried to force yourself to do it anyway. Typical of your life. You feel like you had already taken so much off work because of the triple-header, you were for three weeks attached to the hips with Max.

The only thing you thought of was dying. And that terrified you. And Max senses something was wrong. But he didn't want to tell something and ending up being wrong and you being upset by his misinterpretation. But, yes, he sensed that you were becoming your old self.

"Hey, babe," he snapped you out of your daydreaming. A tragic one, where you were finally at peace and Max was crying for you. You were on the verge of crying yourself at the mere image of Max in your head. But you pushed it far from your mind, somewhere in a dark corner for you to find it at an appropriate time to fantasize about your dying. "How about we go to a picnic? It's sunny outside."

Yes, the wheater was amazing. It was finally summer and you could go outside and spend some time with Max. But your brain literally is tricking you into thinking you don't deserve to enjoy the sunny day. Why? You don't have an answer.

"I'm not really in the mood, Max. Sorry."

You are not in the mood. That was his affirmation. You are not ok.

"You feeling good?"

"Yeah. Just tired I guess."

"But you just woke up."

You shrugged. He was right. You just woke up, so why do you feel like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your shoulders? You couldn't walk. You almost felt like 18 months ago. And that is when it hit you. And Max, at the same time.

"Still taking your meds, I hope."

Silence. Your mind was like overcrowded and you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed your head and pulled your hair because you wanted it to stop. You were thinking that you didn’t know what to think. You didn’t know how to think. You didn’t know how you felt. You were like anxious-depressed-angry-miserable-irritable all in one. Your head was spinning with thoughts. Thoughts were talking over thoughts. So fast that you couldn’t even make out one complete sentence. It was just too much for you to handle. You just wanted someone to kill you.

Max came to you and he hugged you so hard you thought he could crush your bones right there and then. You calmed down eventually. But now you were embarrassed. Because Max saw you, again, at your lowest. Because you promised you'll get better, and for a while, you were better, but now you are fucked and back into square one. All those money on therapy and your pills, for what? For you to stop taking them because you thought you were feeling better? Well, you definitely were not ok, nor you'll be. So, yeah, being fucked sounded good.

Max brought you the medicine and a glass of water. Taking the pills again? For what? The pills only fuel the feeling that everything is fine and that you are a normal person. Nothing was good and you were not a normal person.

But you took the pills. And you looked Max in the eyes and you wanted to die. He seemed crushed. He was sad, devastated, maybe angry but definitely disappointed. In you. Because maybe you don't realize this, but while you were doing good, he was doing great. He knew you could be on your own so he stopped worrying that much, and that could also be seen in his driving. He was winning more races, he was at his best and now he was at his lowest. Because you were at your lowest; co-dependency and shit.

"I'm sorry, baby. I thought I was doing well enough to stop taking the meds," you say in a broken voice but the tears are yet to appear. He stroked your hair and kissed you on your forehead.

"You should have told me. You don't have to go thru this alone. I am here."

"Yeah, you are here. But you don't have to be!" you snapped. Irritability, one thing your depression came with. "I am just a burden for you. And no, this does not come from the fact I stopped taking my pills. You took care of me like I was a child, and, fuck it, you don't deserve this."

"Stop talking like this, alright? If I would suffer from depression you would have done the same thing. You would have taken care of me. Or am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong. To be honest, I don't think I would be here if it wasn't for you, but I don't want you to be. It's obvious that I would never get better. This is me. I am fucked in the head, half wishing I was dead and I am just bringing you down."

"Don't tell me this is a fucking break up, Y/N." he narrows his brows and looks at your features to make sure you were being serious.

“I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a break-up or a suicidal vocal note?"

You broke down. Crying can be cathartic and healthy, but if it goes on too long it can lock your body in a feeling of despair. Even if your mind works through the problem that caused the crying, because your body is still feeling the physical effects it will cause your mind to revert to the negative state. It's not sadness. It's dread and paralysis. You had a certain feeling of emptiness and purposelessness.

“You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay,” you say between sobs.

"You want me to find you a reason to stay alive or to stay in this relationship? To be frank, I can name a thousand reasons, but it all depends on you."

Max hugs you from behind and you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was stronger than ever. You allowed yourself to inhale Max's scent, a soothing scent you could get drunk on.

"I want to believe you love me. I mean, I love you and I consider you the love of my life, you know? We are so young and I know it doesn't feel like it, but I promise you, I'm gonna marry you someday, even if right now you don't think you're gonna make it till tomorrow. So, yeah, this is reason number one," he said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "This is not the worst you have been through in life. Remember where you were 18 months ago; you had no idea what was wrong with you. Now you know and you know you can be better. I know you get sick of those pills, but maybe, in the future, you won't need them. Isn't that exciting? This was reason number two," he said and pressed another kiss to your cheek. He was going to do that every time he would give you a reason. "Have you been to all the beautiful places around the world? Sure, you came to a few Grand Prix, but you never saw Great Ocean Road in Australia, you know Daniel promised he would take us there someday. You never saw Pamukkale in Turkey or Japan in Cherry Blossom season or the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. There are many places you need to visit, baby. So, yeah, this was reason number three. I don't know if you want me to continue but I can give you one more reason. Reason number four. Do it for you, baby. You deserve to live and be happy. I know you can be happy and I promise you I will do my best to help you. You just have to take it one step at a time. You just have to let me in. Let me help you, baby."

You turn around, facing him now. You loved him, with all of your heart. You love him for who he is. You love him because he literally came into your life as your lifeline. You love him because he helped you crawl up the deep bottomless abyss of depression. You love him because he had the patience and the audacity to bear with your depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, your phobias, your mood swings, your temperamental and short-tempered nature, your overthinking, your being overprotectiveness, and possessiveness. You love him because never once he thought of giving up on you in your hard times. You love him because he stands by you like a rock of unwavering support and he’s someone you can fall back on. You love him because he listens to you talking non-stop about your past, your pains, your fears, and your losses without complaining even once. You love him because he rediscovered you and helped you find yourself again when you were lost in darkness. You love him because he filled you with confidence and hope and strength and belief and determination. You love him because he believes you are the best when you set your mind on something and no one can stop you from achieving your goals. You love him because he is protective, caring, understanding, loving, and easy to be with while never being too suffocating or taking up your space. You love him because sooner or later he does everything you ask of him and does with his whole attention. You love him because whatever endeavor he engages in, he likes to give his 100% and hates doing half-hearted things. You love him because he can decode the nuances in your voice and judge your mood just perfectly. You love him because he read you like an open book and he can hear your silence. You love him because he never doubts your loyalty, your intentions, your hard work, and your million issues. You love him because no matter how busy he might get he never forgets that you are waiting for his message or his call. You love him because he keeps you in his priorities. You love him because he gave you a passion you never knew you had. You love him because he very strongly believes that you deserve the best of everything. You love him because he is empathic, kind, magnanimous, thoughtful, and down to Earth. You love him because he has eyes for no one but you. You love him because he wants to see you healthy, wealthy, prosperous, famous and he wants you to hold back at nothing, for no one, he wants you to be a Go-Getter. And most importantly you love him because no one ever loved you like he did.

"I will let you in," you say and you kiss him hard. "I'm sorry for the scene I caused."

"Don't be. It happens."

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in May

Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.

Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.

Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.

Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.

Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.

Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.

The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.

Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!

Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.

Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!

The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2

Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.

You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”

You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.

You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.

You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.

Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.

The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.

You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.

“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.

He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.

Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”

You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.

Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.

To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.

Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.

Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.

Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.

You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.

They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.

You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.

He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.

“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.

He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.

“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.

His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.

He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.

His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.

You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”

You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.

🌹

[faulty-writes]

Hi there! I'm not sure if this fits the request, but if it's okay, could I request Muriko with a female s/o coming out as Bi. Like nobody expected it, then Muriko is like "HELL YEAH, THAT'S MEANS A CHANCE FOR ME" and asks her out last minute before some guy did.

[ So, I got your other message saying you wanted a one-shot and the plot you laid out. Just so you know, I only watch the anime. I don’t read the manga...yet. So I’m basically winging our little Bunny girl. But, I hope you enjoy nonetheless. ] 

Being a sidekick might not be glorious, but it had its advantages. You were recognized for one, praised for your help, and when you distanced yourself from your hero and bravely fought against the villains. Held down your own. Your hero rank rose, just a little. Given you were more than happy to be working alongside Mirko, the often overexcitable, rule-breaking, bunny hero. Of course, many were surprised when Mirko announced she’d be taking a sidekick as she preferred to work solo most of the time.

Teamwork wasn’t her style as many would say, yet that didn’t stop the thousands of sidekicks that flocked to her Agency in hopes to pass the audition and get the spot next to her. You weren’t a well-known hero, you worked a regular day job and merely got your hero license so you could protect others when needed. But you were nothing compared to the Pros out there, still, you felt as though you needed a change and forced yourself to go to the audition.

Though it was a little intimidating considering most of the sidekicks that were present, had a good record, and were rather high in popularity while you...were not. But somehow or another, Mirko had chosen you out of the bunch. For what reason, was unknown and while you had tried to get an answer from her. She’d only smirk and point her finger at you, “What’s it matter eh!? I chose you and that’s all! Be happy there, pretty face!” she’d always slap you on the back after and you’d groan, she hit hard even when she wasn’t trying.

There was something strange about Mirko that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Given she was a beautiful and sometimes reckless woman, you often felt her stare on you whenever you returned to the Agency and somehow or another, whenever you got hurt. It seemed like she was more concerned about your well-being, even if she had gotten a few bruises herself. Whenever you were walking up to her and she was in the middle of a conversation with someone else.

The moment she saw you, her eyes would light up and she’d pull you close. You’d always choke when her arm pressed against your neck. She was a little rough around the edges. “There she is! My little kickass sidekick! Isn’t she just adorable? Huh, huh!?” you’d always get embarrassed, it was almost like Mirko wanted to show you off. But you weren’t some sort of doll, even though you owed the hero a lot.

If it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have gotten a taste of the spotlight. You were happy to serve under her and even protect her when you needed to, not that she needed it. At all. But you liked to pretend you could protect your hero. Regardless, being around Mirko was like being around a completely different type of energy. Which you didn’t necessarily mind, but sometimes it became too overwhelming and you needed your own space.

On days like this, you would often shy away from Mirko and spend time with your coworkers. The fellow people that made this Agency run smoothly, though one male employee seemed awfully interested in you. “Where’s Mirko? Aren’t you usually with her after a mission is completed?” he questioned and you shrugged, “Sometimes I just need a break, Mirko is great and all but…” you paused as you finished putting quarters into the machine and pressed the drink you wanted.

The machine made a noise but dispensed no drink. “Huh? Oh, cheap piece of junk!” you snapped and slammed your fist against it. “Damn it, I don’t have any change left…” you muttered as you reached into your empty pockets as if coins would magically appear. “Hey that’s alright, I got you.” you blinked and looked at your fellow coworker. “Wait...really?” you questioned as he got up and stepped in front of the soda machine.

“Yeah, consider it a thank you for protecting the city and...just because you’re cute.” you felt a little uneasy as he winked at you, was he trying to flirt? Meanwhile, Mirko was becoming a little restless. Eagerly tapping her foot against the floor, “Where the hell is she? Where’s my sidekick!? Her attractive ass should be here with me…” Mirko spoke with a soft growl and the receptionist nearby noticed the unusual behavior.

“I believe she said something about getting a drink, try the soda machine down the hall,” they suggested and Mirko turned to glare at them. “I could have bought her a drink…” she muttered before stomping away, her tail angrily twitching. “Hm?” when she caught the sound of your voice her ears perked up a bit, however, she also picked up someone else’s voice. “Ah, what the hell.” she groaned, though she hated to admit it.

She often got jealous when you, her precious little sidekick, talked to others. Yeah, yeah you had every right to. But Mirko still considered you hers. Even though she knew she didn’t have a chance, which sucked. She narrowed her eyes once she had you in view and couldn’t help but cross her arms with a huff. This is the kind of man you chose to flirt with or rather that you attracted?

She could easily beat any suitor that was after you that is if...if only you weren’t fucking straight. She had half a mind to walk over there and smash the man’s face in, but unfortunately as a hero that wouldn’t be good for her image. Instead, she stood there in the shadows. Deciding to eavesdrop on the conversation with a frown on her face, you sounded like you were having a good time talking to him. Didn’t she make you happy too? She growled softly, feeling her stomach twist with jealousy.

“Aw, come on! You gotta eat don’t you? We can just consider it a business lunch...” you couldn’t help but chuckle, he tried so hard. Though you always turned him down, you didn’t exactly understand why he always tried to flirt with you. There were other female coworkers he could spend time with, your time, in particular, was dedicated to Mirko.

“I’m not really hungry, but thank you for the offer,” you replied, making the man drop his shoulders in disappointment. “Is it me?” he questioned, “I mean...it must be me, right? I’m no big strong hero. I just work here as part of the insurance company tied to Mirko’s Agency.” you wanted to roll your eyes, part of you hated when others played the role of the victim when it wasn’t necessary. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

“I don’t care about looks or status, hell I don’t even care about gender. I swing both ways, but the point is. I’m not too sure if you’re my type and well…” you paused when you noticed the strange looks you were getting. The few coworkers that surrounded you seemed wide-eyed and you weren’t really sure why. Was it something you said? “Uh, you guys okay?” you questioned, however, Mirko seemed rather overjoyed.

Practically clamping down on her lip to prevent herself from screaming out in happiness. YES. So her attraction to you wasn’t wrong! Hah, perhaps she shouldn’t have doubted herself so much. After all, she could turn the straightest of women into bunny lovers. That is if she really tried, but now she had a clear mission. She wouldn’t let anyone else have you, by the end of the day. You’d be telling everyone “I’m Mirko’s girlfriend.” she chuckled to herself as she rubbed her hands together.

“Oh fuck yeah! You’re gonna be mine.” she declared before pumping her fist in the air. Of course, there were obstacles in the way and she’d take care of one right now. She grinned as she kicked off the ground, skillfully maneuvering her body so her legs were straight out. You didn’t even register she was above you until you watched her land on your coworker. He gave a cry as his face was implemented into the floor, leaving behind a large dent.

Your jaw immediately dropped and you looked horrified, but Mirko was smiling. Like she had done something worthy of being praised. “Hi there, pretty face,” she said before brushing a piece of her hair back. “Come, let’s get lunch.” she insisted before grabbing your wrist and dragging you along, unlike most. You knew better than to argue with Mirko. Despite the fact you weren’t hungry, Mirko insisted on sharing a plate. That wasn’t like her seeing as the woman typically liked her food and she even bought you a drink.

Though you had tried to argue it was too early to drink, she laughed your words off and you got a little buzzed. The rest of the day after lunch was typical. You stayed at the agency and filled out the necessary forms from your patrol as well as spoke to the police and listened to the scanner in case any villains tried anything. It was a rather boring ending to the workday.

Mirko seemed rather intent on staying by your side and you weren’t too sure if you could trust that smile she wore and despite your best efforts to avoid her when leaving the agency. She caught up to you and once more insisted you go out to eat with her. “Look, I’m still a little dizzy from the first time we ate out so…” Mirko scoffed in response to your words and grinned before pulling you close.

“Come on! That’s a shitty attitude to have! I promise dinner with me is going to be amazing! I’ll spoil my little sidekick good!” she said before ruffling your hair. “And after, we can hit the bar! I’m sure your little ass can dance right?” you looked hesitant but once more you knew there was no chance in hell you could argue with her. “I don’t know about dance or if I can take any more alcohol…” you responded quickly before Mirko laughed and slapped your back, causing you to stumble forward.

“That’s quitters talk, pretty face! You gotta drink when you’re with me. We’ll have dinner at that exclusive restaurant, oh what the fuck is it called? I forget, but it doesn't matter.” she concluded before looking at you with a mischievous glance, “Uh...” you stepped away. “Just what are you…” you gasped when she quickly moved behind you and scooped you into her arms. You gave a squeak and your arms immediately wrapped around her neck.

Though you were a hero of sorts, you hated being off the ground. “Aw, what’s a matter? Are you scared?” Mirko teased and you growled, “Shut up!” you snapped, wondering what had gotten into the woman today. She usually wasn’t this touchy-feely or even insistent you spent time together like this. Then again, she was over-enthusiastic and did enjoy showing you off. So maybe you were merely overthinking things.

You held on tightly as she kicked off various buildings, sending both of you airborne and while you were terrified. The view of the night city was rather beautiful and almost put you at ease, in a way it made you feel like a damsel in distress. Being rescued and carried off by the hero, which more often than not was depicted as a male hero. Someone strong, brave, and handsome. Yet you were in the hands of a petite but strong and courageous woman who could handle her own.

Though, if that were true then why did she feel the need to have you around in the first place? What was her want in getting a sidekick in the first place? Once more you were reminded that you had never gotten an official answer from her. “Mm…” you muttered just before Mirko landed on the ground, “Ready for some good eats?!” she exclaimed and somehow you felt butterflies when you watched that smile come to her face, she was almost...cute.

She seemed to notice the way you stared, “What’s a matter? Lovestruck already?” you felt your face flush at her words and quickly glanced away. “No.” you denied, damn her. She chuckled once more and set you down on your feet. “Whatever you say, pretty face. Now let’s go get some grub.” she grabbed you by the shoulder and dragged you inside. Guess the advantage of being with a popular hero was the fact that you pretty much got whatever you wanted handed to you.

In this case, Mirko was granted an exclusive table and offered a bottle of wine which she immediately opened and insisted on a toast. You felt your stomach twist as you swirled the cup of wine before looking to Mirko. “A toast! To one of the best and originally unwanted sidekicks ever and the only fucking sense of normal I have in this otherwise kick-ass life! Cheers!” you blinked in response as she clinked your glasses together and promptly downed her glass.

Though you couldn’t help but wonder, what did she mean by sense of normal? How true was that? Was she hiding some secret from everyone? You glanced to the side, your wine untouched. You couldn’t help but look around, everyone else was dressed in such fancy attire that you couldn’t even hope to afford. You weren’t much for high-class places, so why did Mirko bring you here? It was almost like she was trying to impress you without actually taking part in the high-class act.

“Ah!” The bunny girl in question licked her lips after she finished her wine and slammed the cup back onto the table, catching some looks from the surrounding tables. But she outright ignored their stares as she was more focused on looking directly at you. “What’s a matter!? You haven’t touched your wine.” you jumped when you heard her voice and snapped your head back, “Oh uh...n-nothing. Um, I was just thinking…” you said sheepishly before taking a sip of your wine.

That seemed to be your weakness, trying to analyze not only a villain’s moves but everyone’s. Why they said what they did and what it meant. Maybe you’d be better off working for the police but the truth is, you loved being a sidekick. You were almost relieved when the dinner was over, almost. The horror came back when Mirko dragged you to the bar next door, you began to wonder just how much this woman could drink before she was satisfied.

The bar itself had dim lighting and a small dancefloor that provided the only real lighting as it flashed between colors. Mirko had insisted you sit at the bar while she ordered the drinks, you assumed that translated to she knew the bartender. You couldn’t help but sigh and curled your hands in your lap, this wasn’t your scene. In fact, you felt a little out of place. Well, maybe that was an understatement.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice your coworker from earlier had sat down next to you. “Y/n.” your head turned, “Huh?” it was a little hard for you to recognize it was them at first. “Oh...hey, uh how are you? I didn’t know you came here.” he chuckled in response and laid his hand on your thigh, something that made you a little uncomfortable. “I could say the same for you,” he said as he leaned closer and that’s when you noticed the bruises on his face.

Guess that was the result of getting your face slammed into the floor. “I’m here with Mirko.” you replied in a flat tone and watched his face twist with panic, “She isn’t around right now is she?!” he exclaimed as he frantically looked back and forth. “Uh…” why was he freaking out so much? You reached down to push his hand off your thigh before answering him. “She’s getting the drinks,” you replied and though he still looked worried, his shoulders relaxed.

“Well, that’s too bad. I was going to buy you a drink, maybe I still can, what do you say?” he questioned with a purr and reached over to take your hand, “Uh…” you replied before he brought your hand up to his lips were he pressed a kiss to it. The action made a shiver run down your spine, “Um, right...I don’t know about that.” you said as you pulled your hand away from his.

“Well, how about we go out?” he questioned and you jumped in your seat. “Uh what?” he chuckled and a playful smile formed across his face. “I said how about we go-” his sentence was interrupted when several alcoholic beverages were poured over his head. You could smell the difference mixtures lingering in the air and it made you gag, “What the hell is your problem!?” he snapped as he whipped his head around to see Mirko, she stood there with a smirk.

“No problem here, but I’d prefer you don’t bother my date with your bullshit. It’s clear pretty face doesn’t want to go out with you. So get before my foot impales itself into your ass!” Mirko growled and for a brief moment, you got scared as you watched her face twist into a more devilish expression which seemed to be more than enough to scare your coworker away. You blinked in response before looking at Mirko.

“Uh...that seemed…” you tried to search for the right word, but Mirko just scoffed. “What unnecessary? Give me a break, those guys are just like villains. Can’t take no for an answer.” she declared as she placed her hand on her hip and looked at you. “Besides you’re my date and I don’t plan to hand you off to any half-assed shithead.” your eyes widened, “W-What do you m-mean d-d-date?” you responded, not that you didn’t like the sound of it.

Just, you didn’t recall Mirko even asking you out on a date. She seemed confused by your question. “Uh, what else does a date mean?” she responded before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I didn’t ask you out or anything. I couldn’t find the time between all the bullshit, so I decided to try and spoil you instead. Besides that fool has been trying to ask you out for months. Had to beat him to it, didn’t I?” she questioned as she took the seat next to you.

“I’m going to have to get more drinks…” Mirko pouted but you were still full of questions, just staring at her with blank eyes. “Hm?” she turned her head to look at you, even in the dim lighting you could see her raise her eyebrow. “What?” she questioned before trying to flag down the bartender. “Look I promise I’ll ask you out properly later,” she said which made you finally drop your stare. “Just enjoy tonight for now and if you’re good, I might end up bringing you home tonight,” she said with a wink and you nearly fell out of your chair.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

angst 3 for winteriron pretty please

Hi Ava, thank you so much for sending this prompt in. Finally I finished it, after… 3 months. I also used it for the WinterIron Week (which I am so much behind for, it’s not even funny). I still have no clue if this really warrants as ‘angst’, cause it feels more dull to me than angsty, but oh well. It is what it is.

Now, the whole organizational stuff (aka the pain in my ass):

On Crossing Paths

Prompt is from this list: “You promised you’d stop drinking.” — “And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

Day 3 of @winteriron-week: Angst & “But I did it”

And since this got way out of hand anyway, combined with:

Day 4 of @winteriron-week: Tony needs a hug (Bucky too) & Forgiveness

(Nvm, I wrote something for day 4 anyway)

M, 5.2k, Alcoholism TW, Angst (-ish), Canon Divergence, Tony Feels, Emotional Hurt, Falling In Love, Hopeful Ending | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 4)

—

Tony meets James for the first time in a seedy bar in Brooklyn on the night of December 17th, 1991.

Twelve hours before that first meeting, he listens with deaf ears to the police telling him his parents died in a car accident.

Ten hours before that first meeting, he cries on Obie’s shoulder while Obie pats him on his head and tells him “everything would be fine”.

Seven hours before that first meeting, he speaks to Rhodey on the phone and makes him promise not to jeopardize his military career by showing up without permission.

Five hours before that first meeting, he drives to the scene of the accident where he screams into the godforsaken void from the top of his lungs, curses Howard and then has a mental breakdown in the middle of the street.

Two hours before that first meeting, he finds himself driving through the city with no destination in mind until he decides that he needs a drink.

Or rather ten.

Which is how he ends up at “Cheryl’s” where no one even bats an eye at the face of today’s headline and sole heir of a multi-billion company entering the bar. It’s too dark inside, the strong stench of sweat and smoke penetrates his nostrils on the spot, and Tony is pretty sure that the mold behind the counter is just about to build its own ecosystem.

He orders whiskey and gets a Jack. Not exactly what he wanted, but it will do.

There’s a glint out of the corner of his eye that gains his attention and when he turns, his gaze falls on the metal hand of a man with the saddest eyes he has ever seen. What once must’ve been a wild grey is now the lifeless stare of someone who’s been haunted by ghosts for a long while. A frigid expression on a pretty face framed by strands of long brown hair and cherry red lips made to be kissed. Wrapped up in an outfit that might as well be from a BDSM scene.

Tony likes what he sees. Very much so. He imagines dragging the guy into the bathroom, pulling those tight leather pants off and giving him the best blowjob of his life. It certainly would take his mind off other things. Like the fact that he’s an orphan now.

So he does, what he does best: he flirts. But this time it’s a challenge. It takes him three attempts until the stranger takes his eyes off the wall and looks at him, a tiny frown between his brows—but no other sign of acknowledgment.  

“Finally got your attention, Handsome! You’re not much of a talker, hm? No worries, I can talk for both of us.” Which Tony then does. He talks and drinks and flirts—a wink here, a featherlight touch on the guy’s biceps there—and drinks and speaks of DUM-E and Rhodey and all their pranks during MIT, watches with fascination how that dead look in the stranger’s eyes slowly forms into curiosity, beams in delight when he gets a snort out of him, drinks some more, slides closer with each drink and puts a hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it up and down.

“You got a name, Handsome?”

The guy seems to hesitate for a while until he answers in a deep, raspy voice, “James.” Tony is pretty sure it’s a lie, but then again—he doesn’t need to know the name when he’s got his mouth full of dick.

“Well, James, you can call me Tony.” He flutters his eyelashes and bites teasingly on his lower lip before he drops his tone and asks, “So… your place or mine?”

After that Tony remembers the night only in a blur. He remembers passionate kisses in a dark alley, hands wandering everywhere, rising heat and grey eyes shimmering in pure lust. He remembers a hotel room and soft sheets and strong arms around his waist.

And then he wakes up, the taste of alcohol and James still lingering in his mouth.

When he opens his eyes, he finds James sitting in the chair at window, instead of lying in bed next to him, his entire focus solely on Tony. It should be creepy, but James’ gaze merely comes from curiosity, as if Tony was a machinery whose workings he is still trying to understand. It’s kind of endearing.

Tony gets up, disinterested in getting dressed, and pours himself two fingers of whiskey at the bar.

“This your breakfast?”

Tony grins smugly at the hoarse tone of James’ voice. “Nah, that’s just my mouthwash,” he answers and winks at him over his shoulder.

He eyes James for a moment while sipping on his drink, and then adds, “There’s a diner not far from here. Serves the best blueberry pancakes in all New York, I can vouch for that. What do you think, want to accompany me?”

It’s not Tony’s usual style. Otherwise, one-night stands will remain exactly what they are for him: one-night stands. But James has something that fascinates him immensely. It’s not just the overdeveloped prosthesis that can impossibly be on the market anywhere, and makes Tony wonder where he got it from, but also that look in his eyes of someone who has seen way too much. This emptiness that suddenly becomes filled with curiosity when it comes to small things. This enigmatic thing that surrounds him and whose code Tony wants to crack.

At the diner, Tony watches with amusement as James’ eyes widen in delight at the first bite of the heavenly pancakes and can’t help laughing when James pounces on them like a starving predator.

Since James is not much of a talker, Tony does the speaking. For one, because he can’t stand the silence, but for another, because he needs to distract himself. Because he doesn’t want to think about the death of his parents or how empty the mansion will be when he returns. So he talks about anything he can think of until he comes to a point where he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, but is pretty sure that somewhere in the torrent of words, he tried to explain James the exact details of his AI study.

When they’re about to part ways though, Tony only too well remembers the emptiness that will greet him when he comes home, and he doesn’t even finish thinking it through, before he invites James to come with him.

James does not only come with him, but he also stays.

—

Weeks pass and before Tony knows it, James has practically moved in with him. If you can call it moving in when James doesn’t seem to have a single thing that needed to be brought here. Tony doesn’t know James’ last name, nor does he have the slightest idea who he is, and with each passing day his suspicions grow that he must have taken a homeless man off the street.

It should be terrifying or at least worrying but Tony can’t find it in himself to care enough. He lost his parents—and Jarvis and Ana even earlier—and would be alone in this big mansion until the loneliness would overwhelm him. And James turns out to be an excellent guest. Or rather roommate at this point.

For all he knows, James could be a serial killer, and Tony still wouldn’t care. He needs the company and he uses James for it—in bed and outside of it.

The more time they spend, the more not only Tony seems to be learning about James, but James also about himself. He discovers a love of books, especially C. S. Lewis, and sometimes holes up in the library all day except when he goes looking for Tony to read his favorite passages to him.

Every time he discovers a new dish that he likes, Tony can watch James’ whole face glow and none of the shadows of his past can be seen in that moment.

His favorite reaction, however, is when he trusts James enough to show him his workshop. James’ eyes widen in amazement and a brilliant smile forms on his lips at the sight of scientific chaos there is. “It’s like Narnia!”

“What? Where do you get that from? Narnia is nature and talking animals. I don’t have any talking animals here.” What DUM-E understands as a cue to speak up and whereupon James gives him a smug ‘told you so’ grin.

In these situations, it’s easy to forget that all is not peace, joy and pancakes. As soon as Tony gets down to the jobs Obie gave him, he remembers again, and the alcohol finds its way to his liver to ease the pain. In the morning, noon and evening.

Sometimes at night too when James has one of his nightmares and Tony can’t help him because James doesn’t talk to him, not about who he is, not about his past—although Tony guesses with an almost certainity on veteran—and not even vaguely about it his nightmares.

But they are fine, they have a routine: talking during the day, fucking at night. Eat blueberry pancakes for breakfast at the diner once a week and fiddle with James’ arm whenever he has time.

It works perfectly well as it is.

—

It’s not until on a particular bright morning in March 1992 Tony realizes that he had fallen in love with James a long time ago—the day after he almost dies of alcohol poisoning.

He wakes up to see James laying next to him, still asleep. Long strands of hair cover his face and Tony gives into the urge to brush them to the side, so he can take James’ peaceful expression in.

It’s a picture he’d like to wake up every day to. The longer he thinks about it, the more Tony has to admit that he can’t imagine a life without James in it—and that’s when it hits him. That those are feelings beyond of sole sexual attraction, beyond cameradine or friendship.

The realization hits him like a slap in his face. He breaths in shakingly and his first instinct is to get up and get himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, but before he can do anything the heart monitor starts picking up and only then does Tony realize that he’s not at home but in a hospital.

James stirs awake at the sudden noise and immediately glares at Tony. “You fucking idiot.”

His eyes are red, indicating he must’ve cried, and Tony isn’t sure what is going on but he can tell it must be bad. But he’s still too overwhelmed with the realization of his feelings, so he just gapes at James, not being able to say a word.

“You fucking idiot,” James repeats. “How often did I already tell you that you drink too much? That you should stop?”

And before he can react to that, he’s being crushed in a sudden hug, James holding him tightly to his chest and tears streaming down his cheeks.

“For a genius you are so dumb,” James murmurs and Tony—for Tony it’s too much. He doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know what to say, so he blurts out without a second thought, “I love you.”

That brings James to a halt. Tony’s muscles tense up and he instinctively holds his breath.

James pulls back a little bit, so he can look at Tony, who rather focuses on the white sheets of the hospital bed. “Tony did you watch too many rom-coms? Confessing feelings after you almost died should’ve been my job in that case though.”

Tony needs a moment to register the words correctly. “Almost died?”

“Alcohol poisoning.”

Oh fuck. Even Tony knows that this is not good, that he definitely went too far this time.

James gently cups Tony’s face so that he’s forced to look into those gray eyes shimmer in a happiness. “Tony, I love you too.”

Faintly he registers the heart monitor rising up again, but he’s too distracted by the warmth that fills him from within to feel any embarrassment at that. He looks up at the wonder that James is and then surges forward to steal a kiss. He expects a nurse to barge in any moment now at the way his heart rate jumps off the charts, but that’s not stopping him from burying his hands in James’ hair and deepen the kiss further.

“Tony,” James laughs as he pulls off. He rests his forehead at Tony’s while they catch their breath and slowly morphs his sappy expression into a serious one.

“Tony,” he repeats. “I love you. And because I love you, I need you to promise me to stop with the drinking. I can’t watch you destroy your own life any further like that. Yesterday I had to find you passed out in the workshop. Have you any idea what I went through?” His hands wander all over Tony while talking, as if he needs to prove himself, that Tony’s still alive.

Tony thinks of SI and Obie and the expectations he has to live up to. He thinks of mama’s piano and how he hasn’t played on it since the accident. And with each thought the urge to get a drink intensifies. He gulps audibly and asks, “Will you help me?”

James’ quiet smile is more than enough for an answer. “Always.”

“Okay,” he breaths out and adds, more hastily, “okay, but you have to promise to never hurt me, James. I can’t, after mum died and Jarvis and—”

“Of course I will never hurt you, Tony.” James interrupts him and those words leave James lips so effortlessly and earnestly that Tony has not a single doubt in the truth of them.

And with James on his side, Tony believes he can make it. Not just getting sober, but living an actual life. Getting his shit together, looking forward.

He finally tells him of his plans of a new home in Malibu, those he was too afraid to talk about because James is bound to Brooklyn and Tony feared he wouldn’t come with him when the mansion’s constructions are finished. But James just laughs and says, “The only place I belong to is your side. So wherever you go? I will follow.”

Tony feels happy like never before. Things finally go well.

—

Until they don’t.

—

The Winter Soldier fights for the first time against his programming on the night of December 16th, 1991.

It’s the shocked “Sergeant Barnes?” Howard Stark gasps that evokes hidden memories from the back of his mind. Memories from war—gunshots, explosions, screams and the smell of fire and blood. Memories of a guy once tiny suddenly big. Somehow the same person, somehow not.

Memories that lead him to Brooklyn instead of the meeting point where he should deliver the serum to his handlers.

His legs walk him the entire day through the city, while he’s taking in each building—some he recognizes, most of them not. Until at night he looks up at a blinking light stating “Cheryl’s” and sees flashes of himself, hair shorter and a laugh on his face, dancing with another man and exchanging forbidden kisses in a dark corner.

He enters and not much later he meets the whirlwind that is Tony Stark.

With Tony the Winter Soldier becomes James and learns to feel again. Other emotions, besides constant rage and pain. Curiosity first, then amusement, lust, care, warmth and somewhere around March 1992 he knows it’s love.

He falls in love with Tony Stark who treats him like a human being rather than a tool, who talks and talks and makes him laugh, who touches him softly always and everywhere, who isn’t afraid of the metal arm but fascinated by it, who studies it without causing him any pain, who sings and laughs and dances and doesn’t shy away from James even once.

Tony Stark who drinks more than he should, reminding him of a man that might be his father coming home, reeking of alcohol, hitting a woman that might be his mother—bringing back memories that rather stayed forgotten. Tony who almost dies and promises to stop with the drinking. Tony who sometimes looks like a man carrying the entire world on his shoulders, dark bags under his eyes, a haunted expression in them and yet does his best to keep James’ sorrow’s away.

Tony Stark whose parents he killed as he realizes after a nightmare on November 24th in 1992.

—

In the morning of November 25th 1992 Tony wakes up alone in bed, a yellow sticky note on his nightstand and the words “I’m sorry, doll” scribbled on it.

—

Tony waits first, clinging onto the hope that he misinterpreted that note and that James will come back. All of James’ few things are still here—Tony checked.

But the longer he waits, the stronger the urge gets to wrap his fingers around a bottle of whiskey. So he gets up and starts looking. First at the diner, then the park, further to the Brooklyn Bridge, to “Cheryl’s” at last.

He returns to an empty home. Doesn’t sleep in the first night, neither the second nor the third and collapses on the fourth—his face buried in James’ favorite wool sweater, the bathroom reeking of his vomit.

And then he repeats that circle anew.

—

James doesn’t come back.

—

On December 1992 Tony moves to Malibu without looking back.

The bar in his new home is fully stocked.

—

The next sixteen years pass by in a rush. Tony drinks. A lot. He drinks and fucks, and then drinks and fucks even more in a desperate attempt to forget James. To forget his touch and smile, his smell and his taste. To forget James’ everything.

And he doesn’t care enough what happens around him during his wake of self-destruction.

Until it comes back to bite him in the ass.

—

In 2008, after 3 months of captivity, Tony returns to the New York mansion for the first time since moving out. There on the night stand of his old room are still the photos of him and James from the photo booth they once took.

Tony blows the dust away and looks at the old pictures, a wistful expression on his face. He soaks James’ soft smile and bright glint in those beautiful eyes in, remembers how those pouty lips felt on his own, remembers the sound of James’ laugh, the taste of his mouth, his body pressed against Tony’s.

In all this time J.A.R.V.I.S. was never able to find even a trace of James. It was, as if he disappeared from earth. Chances are, he died. Because how far can a guy with a metal arm get without the most advanced AI of the world being able to find him? But even though he doesn’t believe in ever seeing James again, Tony thinks of him and the promise they gave each other when he empties his bar down the sink.

The photos end up in his workshop, next to the arc reactor’s glass case Pepper gave him. Tony finally starts looking ahead.

—

Years pass and Tony lives his life again.

He also almost dies some countless times, and every single time he thinks of Pepper, with a lingering memory of James’ laugh.

—

And then in 2016 Johannesburg happens and with Johannesburg the Sokovia Accords follow.

—

Over the years Tony imagined countless scenarios where he would see James again. Not in one of those could he have imagined it to go this bad.  

“I know that road.”

—

Fourteen hours after the whole Siberia debacle Tony pulls the old photos from the drawer in the workshop and sets them aflame. He watches with a grim satisfaction as they slowly crumble to ashes and takes his first sip of whiskey in years. Directly from the bottle.

DUM-E’s distressed efforts at saving anything from the photos with the fire extinguisher are just a tad bit too late.

Nothing is left.

—

Tony starts drinking again.

—

In 2016, despite careful avoidance, Bucky does meet Tony again—in a HYDRA bunker of all places. And his heart aches at the sight of Tony’s shock.

Tony might’ve aged and changed, but those eyes are still the same. Big and expressive and at that very moment filled with sadness and anger and disbelief. And worst of all, it’s Bucky’s fault.

He doesn’t plan to fight and neither does he want to leave Tony behind, but he doesn’t believe Tony wants him anywhere near—Bucky had already done more than enough.

So he goes with Steve and goes back into cryostasis, hoping to stay there forever. Only to be woken up a few months later and informed that they got rid of his trigger words and Tony made sure that the Avengers were allowed to return to the States.

Bucky included.

It seems surreal to him to enter the Avengers compound; as if he was dreaming. As if there was a catch that would strike later because he doesn’t deserve to be here.

And then, in the kitchen waits none other than Tony, his eyes hidden behind colored sunglasses, his fake media smile on his face and a whiskey glass in his hand, the sight of which freezes Bucky’s blood in his veins. He’d like nothing more than to take the glass out of his hand and hug Tony tightly.

Which is a privilege he no longer has.

“Ah, the fossil duo! Welcome back,” Tony couldn’t sound more unwelcome if he tried. “Everything is still as you left it, Rogers. You can show Barnes yourself where everything is.” With these words he mockingly salutes them, turns around at his heel and disappears from the kitchen again without giving Bucky a single look.

A chill runs down Bucky’s spine at the sound of his last name from Tony’s mouth. It’s so… wrong. To Tony, he has always been just James. If affectionate or angry or laughing, James was the name Tony would call him with. This single, condescending “Barnes” feels like a thousand knife stabs in his heart. It’s only thanks to his training that he stays composed and doesn’t go running after Tony in a desperate attempt to try talking to him.

The next few weeks pass similarly. If he and Tony even see each other, which is a rarity in itself, even though they live in the same building—he has the suspicious feeling that Tony is deliberately avoiding him with F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s help—then Tony ignores him as if he were not here at all.

Bucky knows, he deserves worse than just the cold shoulder, but that still doesn’t make it easy. Especially not when he keeps finding empty alcohol bottles scattered around somewhere and can do absolutely nothing about this problem.

His only bright spot is Rhodes, who looks at the bottles with just as much loathing as he does. It means that at least one person keeps an eye on Tony’s consumption, since Bucky himself cannot. Bucky never had a chance to meet Rhodes twenty-five years ago, and Bucky is pretty sure Tony hasn’t told him anything, otherwise Rhodes wouldn’t be content with shooting him deathly looks only.

That’s why he doesn’t say anything to Steve either, no matter how hard he questions him, because he sees that there is something between him and Tony that he doesn’t know about. If Tony doesn’t want to tell anyone about their past together, then Bucky won’t either.

Bucky keeps the distance that Tony obviously wants from him.

Until two months after his arrival at the compound on a Tuesday morning F.R.I.D.A.Y. sends an urgent distress signal, and Bucky is on his way so quickly that the other Avengers don’t have a chance to follow him directly even if they tried.

—

Tony wakes up in a hospital with a throbbing pounding in his head and aching bones all over his body—James’ worried face hovering over him. It’s the shittiest déjà-vu he’s ever had.

At least the circumstances aren’t quite the same. Rhodey diluted Tony’s alcohol every time he thought no one would see him. So that something like alcohol poisoning wouldn’t happen again. Tony is grateful and annoyed at the same time.

No, this time he just flew drunk in his Iron Man armor, lost the connection to F.R.I.D.A.Y., which he has to get to the bottom of as quickly as possible, and then fell. So, waking up in the hospital makes sense.

But that James is here instead of Rhodey or Happy or Pepper or anyone else is both, surprising and unwanted.

James opens and closes his mouth several times, seemingly unable to decide what to say before croaking out, “You promised you’d stop drinking.” His voice sounds suspiciously as if he had cried recently, and Tony almost laughs at the irony of the situation.

But then he remembers the day he woke up without James at his side. Remembers searching everywhere for him, waiting, not being able to sleep for days, and how miserable he felt without him, not knowing what happened, not knowing where he had gone.

He remembers that James had fucked him—no, made love with him—knowing he had killed Tony’s mother. And he feels the blood boil in his veins in anger at that. How dare James after all these years, after all that happened, now talk about that promise?

So he throws him a deadly look, his hand clenched into a fist and growls, “And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

James visibly flinches at that and takes a step back, his eyes wandering everywhere but at Tony. Then he takes a deep breath and looks Tony straight in the eye as he says, “You’re right. I promised you that I would never hurt you. But I did it. I have—”

“Why did you do it?” Tony interrupts, because that’s what he wants to know. What he had asked himself over and over again over the years—the why.

Bucky blinks at him in bewilderment and asks: “Why what exactly?”

“Everything!” Tony throws his arms in the air in frustration, ignoring the ailment of his broken ribs over the sudden action. “Why you suddenly left me overnight, why you never told me anything about yourself, not even vaguely hinting at who you are and what happened to you, why you let me fall in love with you when it was you, who killed my mother and were therefore to blame for my misery!” The last part comes out much more honest than Tony wanted it to be and he quickly looks ashamed to the side to blink away the rising tears of anger.

He hears a deep sigh from the side and out of the corner of his eye he can see James drop into the visitor’s chair.

“Tony, I didn’t know who you were or that my mission had been your parents when we met in the bar,” James begins hesitantly to explain. “Howard… his words brought a few memories to the fore. Just blurry, barely recognizable images. I didn’t even know my own name when you asked me for it—I just named the one that was at the tip of my tongue.

“During the time we were together, my memories have only gradually returned. I had no idea about your parents until a nightmare reminded me of it.” This is where James looks up from his hands for the first time, straight into Tony’s eyes, his gaze steadfast and honest. “And then I realized I had broken my promise—I had already hurt you.”

James sighs and runs his hand through his hair and swallows hard. “I understood that it was only a matter of time before HYDRA found me. We were lucky before that because no one suspected I could be with you. But under no circumstances did I want them to get you. I knew I had to go. That is why I did it.”

Tony nods slowly. “And then what? You just decided to go back to HYDRA?”

James laughs dryly, without a trace of humor in his voice. “Of course not. I went on the run. But in the end, no matter what I do, they always find me, don’t they?” His mouth twists into a grimace of self-hatred and resignation.

Not under my watch, no, Tony thinks to himself. Instead he says, “You broke my heart.” Because as reluctant as he is to show his vulnerability, this is James. And he’s always been able to be honest with James.

“I’m sorry,” James says in all earnestness.

“I’m not forgiving you for what you have done.”

“I understand.”

“Not yet at least.”

At that James’ gaze shoots up in surprise.

Tony clears his throat slightly shy. “I—I understand that the… brainwashing and stuff. That it wasn’t you. I just… I just need some time.” And it’s true. Tony had read the Winter Soldier’s files; he saw what they did to him and he understands on a completely rational level that it’s not James who is responsible for all those deaths.

He only needs his emotions to come to that understanding too and then he would truly be able to forgive him.

And really, as much as he always claims that he worked to bring the Avengers back together was because the world needed them, he knows the real motivations for it had been for James only. When Pepper had broken up with him because “there was someone else occupying his heart she could never reach” he hadn’t been able to contradict her. Seeing James again after all that time has only proven her right too.

“Tony…”

“Great, now that that’s settled, take my tablet and read me something,” Tony interrupts James before he can go any further, because there is only so much emotional talk Tony can handle in one day and that line has been exceeded a long while ago.

“I… what?”

“Read me something. I am a poor injured soul deserving to be properly pampered. And I want a good-night story.”

And as James slowly smiles brightly at him, gray eyes glinting in hope and wonder, it’s like not a single day has gone by since he disappeared on him.

Tony is still wary. Remembers only too well those days after James had left him. Can’t forget the Winter Soldier’s hand around his mother’s neck. His fingers itch with the urge to hold a drink, but he snuggles deeper into bed, letting James’ soothing voice and the story of a girl who finds a wonderland in a closet lull him into contentment.

Tony meets James for the first time in December 1991 in a seedy bar in Brooklyn and then a second time in 2016 in a Siberian bunker. He thinks that if against all odds their paths cross not only once, but twice, then maybe they should take a step forward together and see, where the path will lead them to.

And if they just believe strong enough in it, they might even find their wonderland for a second time too.

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 302 Spoiler Thoughts: Y’all Need Therapy

Part 2 of the story that started last chapter and THINGS GOT WORSE!!!  I’m crying through the pain.  There’s a lot going on in this one.  Lots of guilt, lots of abuse, lots of crying, but thankfully some gleam of hope at the end.  A broken family can heal.  This is a step in the right direction.  Though, I’m already seeing the BNHA fandom going up in flames because everyone’s playing the blame game.  I hope I don’t end up accidentally stepping on that landmine after posting this.  Here we go (thoughts are based off summary translations by @redandblonde420 on Twitter and panel images are from @BKIS2327 on Twitter!):

(OP Note: Please don’t DM me with your complaints about my opinions on the Todoroki Family matter.  It’s bad enough that this storyline has people getting pissed off at each other for taking different sides.  The last thing the BNHA fandom needs is more conflict amongst ourselves.)

Chapter 302 picks up where we last left off.  Enji and Rei managed to stop Touya from attacking Shoto (it’s not explained how) and the whole family except from them are asleep.  Enji tells Rei that he doesn’t want any of the kids anywhere near Shoto anymore in fear that they would try to harm him.  Enji also fired a servant because he was so busy at work and he asks Rei to not let Touya out of her sight.  The other reason why Enji won’t watch over Touya himself is because Enji’s presence would only be a constant reminder of the hero world to Touya.  While Enji thinks he’s protecting Touya, Rei says he’s just running away.  A few things here:

1. I get not wanting Touya anywhere near baby Shoto since he did try to kill the tyke.  Touya was pretty much bent on his hatred for his little brother at that point that even seeing him stroked his dangerous jealousy.  But, I don’t know about Fuyumi and Natsuo.  Neither of them showed any hatred towards Shoto (and still haven’t as far as we know).  They’ve shown no signs of violence or anything that would imply wanting to hurt Shoto.  So, why keep them away too?

2. This is probably going to be the start of me getting shit on by the fandom, but I think Enji and Rei are both right.  We saw in the last chapter that Enji did legitimately care for Touya to the point where he tried to convince him to leave his ambitions of being a hero primarily so that he would stop hurting himself.  Just Endeavor being there is a reminder of the hero world.  Which would only provoke Touya more.  And Endeavor can’t just leave his job; he was the #2 after all.  At the same time, Enji is running away from the problem by not trying to talk to Touya more and helping him to control his flames at least.  He was trying to save Touya from himself, but he was also ignoring the real problem.

3. Side note (and because I just 💙 Shoto), the manga panels show baby Shoto sleeping on his little bed with a frosty snot bubble coming out of his nose 🥺!  Not only is it adorable, but it seems like Shoto had his quirk since he was very young. 

Time skip 5 years later!  This is back when Shoto was being dragged along by Enji while watching his siblings play ball WAY back in Shoto’s Origin chapter what a throwback, Horikoshi (Season 2 Ep. 10 in the anime; I think Chapter 39 in the manga)!  Fuyumi is 12 yrs old, Natsuo is 8 yrs old, and Touya is 13 yrs old.  So, that confirms that Touya is 1 year older than Fuyumi, Natsuo is 4 years younger than Fuyumi, and Shoto is 3 years younger than Natsuo since Shoto was 5 then.  God, they looked so cute back then!  I’m honestly amazed how freaking TALL Natsuo is at 8 YEARS OLD!  He’s taller than Fuyumi here and probably Touya.  Someone put this kid in the Haikyuu!! universe and teach him volleyball!  He’d be great, I know it!

We see a few panels of what is basically a remastered version of what we saw during Shoto’s Origin story.  Shoto really wanted to play ball with his siblings, but Enji wouldn’t let him 😭.  I know Natsuo and Shoto try to play ball in present day in the 5th(?) light novel.  Natsuo plays it properly, but Shoto accidentally smacks the shit out of it 🤣.  It’s a very bittersweet scene and I suggest you guys read the translations of it if you can find it.  *AHEM* Anyway while Shoto is looking at them with sadness, Touya is looking back at Shoto with malice in his eyes.  Touya clearly still hated Shoto...

Next, we see Touya trying to talk to Natsuo in bed.  While he admits that he was wrong for trying to attack Shoto, he thinks Enji is to blame as well.  Ok, Enji lit Touya’s figurative flame, but Enji did not attack Shoto.  That was all Touya’s doing.  Had he listened to his father and not been so driven to jealousy, he wouldn’t have attacked.  Enji did a lot of things, but he did not provoke that attack.  

Natsuo was too tired to listen to Touya talk, so he suggested that he talk to Fuyumi instead.  Touya thought that Natsuo was the only one who could understand and he didn’t talk to Fuyumi because “all the women in the family were no good”.  OKAY, I don’t know if this is straight up sexism  or something else, but goddamn Touya.  That is-, that’s not okay.  At all.  Respect women pls, my dude.  Hell, Fuyumi and Rei probably would’ve been a good people to talk to back then.  

One day, Touya is trying to leave the house probably to go train again.  Rei tries to convince him to play with his friends instead, but of course Touya refuses.  Because Rei feels shackled to her marriage, she wants Touya to look at a world outside of heroism so he can be someone he really wants to be.  This is basically what Enji told Touya before and Rei’s echoing his words.  And they are right, but Touya’s too driven to really think of anything else.

Touya gets mad and starts insulting Rei.  He says because his mother sold Rei to Enji, she’s conspiring to all of this.  Touya’s losing his mind and Rei’s scared of him.  I want to point out that one translation I read say that Rei’s mother’s side of the family was actually poor so Rei was actually bought via money like I remembered.  But, that doesn’t mean she intended to hurt Touya.  

Next panel reveals that Touya was born between Jan. 1st and April. 1st.  We know Dabi’s B-Day is on Jan. 18th based off his profile page.  Though, this could be a lie for all we know.  The guy’s still a big mystery.  Anyway, Touya’s fire is growing stronger and finally turns into that iconic blue fire.  When his emotions are heightened his flames get more powerful, but he starts crying too.  Enji learns of Touya’s secret training and gets mad at him again.  Touya just wants to prove that Enji was right for creating him.  Touya’s gone completely insane at this point.  The fire that Enji lit could not be put out.  It was too late at this point.

And the abuse... JFC...  Enji was mad at Rei for letting Touya train and he abuses her (looks like he hit her).  Little 5 yr old Shoto steps up and tries to stop his father from hurting his mother.  Fuyumi and Natsuo are hiding and crying, and Fuyumi is covering both their ears.  Rei reflects that she chose to be married to Enji and she truly thought she could have a family full of laughter.  Th-this just hurts.  No emoji can express how awful this situation is.  Enji looks like a monster in these panels (we still don’t know exactly when the abuse started, but I think it was either after Touya tried to kill Shoto or here when Rei failed to stop Touya from training).  Shoto’s crying and yelling at Enji to protect his mom.  His siblings too if you think about it.  Even back then, Shoto was a hero even when he really shouldn’t had been.

The present goes back and forth with the past here.  Touya waited for Enji to come see him train, but he never came.  Rei also ignored Touya even though she knew of his problems.  Touya was truly alone on that mountain.  And here’s where Rei’s blame comes in.  She was a good mother, I think.  But she did ignore Touya when he needed her most.  She kind of ran away too.  

Back to Dabi, he reminisces of how he faked his own “death” back on that mountain after Enji didn’t show up.  He didn’t know how to stop the fire because Enji only taught him to increase the fire.  Touya started a whole wildfire.  The whole place turned to ash.  Enji tried looking for his son, but was devastated when he couldn’t.  Gotta say, these panels are brutal.  Like, Tenko Shimura’s Origin chapters were dark, but this is a different kind of dark.  

Back to the present.  Enji says that after Touya “died” he didn’t know what to do other than to focus on Shoto (the panel shows a dark figure of Enji looming over a sad Shoto similar to that image of Overhaul looming over Eri because she wasn’t saved yet).  Rei got more disgusted just seeing Enji and she started seeing his shadow when she saw her kids, specifically Shoto and Natsuo (maybe because Natsuo is more built like Enji?).  Fuyumi and Natsuo blame themselves for not doing anything and thinking things were okay even though they knew what was going on.  Natsuo still blames Enji of course because Enji started this all.  And I can’t say that Natsuo’s wrong, but Enji doesn’t shoulder the whole blame.  And yeah, Fuyumi and Natsuo were still just kids when this happened, but a little extra push from them could’ve helped.  It’s just the “It’s my fault” game with the Todoroki’s except for Shoto.

Natsuo’s taking a big hit here.  He was closest to Touya and if Natsuo took more action to help Touya, Dabi probably wouldn’t have been born.  Touya could’ve even treated Shoto to some soba 😭.  That’s a nice thought, Natsu, but we all know what did happen in the end.

So, Rei concludes that everyone is shouldering some blame towards their family’s problems and that it isn’t completely Enji’s fault (this I agree with).  Even so, Rei says that his family would still help him get back up even if he fell.  Coming from Rei, the woman who was abused and put in a mental hospital, this is saying A LOT!  We saw some of this back in the Pro Heroes arc (Endeavor Vs. High End), but here it’s said out loud.  Even a family as broken as the Todorokis can still heal. 

Rei then calls Shoto the family hero as if it weren’t for him going to UA, making friends, and taking action to repair his family, then none of this would’ve happened.  There’s a page that shows present day injured Shoto at the center and that iconic “IT’S YOUR QUIRK, NOT HIS” scene from the Sports Fest. in the background.  TDDK or not, this is such a damn good throwback!  I love everything about it.  Again, Shoto’s the family hero, but Izuku’s the true hero in all this.  If he didn’t meddle with Shoto’s family problems, then Shoto and his family would still be a broken mess. Izuku might as well be an honorary Todoroki at this point 💙💚

Endeavor is still crying hard (the man’s literally shook) and Shoto finally speaks (his speech bubbles are shakey, so his voice might be raspier than usual).  Shoto talked with Rei about how he plans to face Dabi on his own.  Rei said “no”.  Shoto concludes that everyone’s going to help stop Dabi, including Enji.  The panel shows Shoto LITERALLY REACHING OUT to Enji!!!  His face shows that he’s still kind of reluctant, but this is a sign that Shoto’s is close to forgiveness.  He’s not there yet and he can turn back whenever he wants.  But, this is Shoto’s choice and I’m so freaking proud of him.  I love this ❄️🔥 boy so much, guys 💙😭!  

The final panel shows Haws and Best Jeanist outside of Enji’s hospital room and they heard pretty much everything.  Very similar to how Bakugo accidentally eavesdropped on Shoto and Izuku back in the Sports Fest haha!  Neither of them look mad or sad, but more contempt I think.  Massive problems in the Todoroki family that’s lasted over 20 years is finally being fixed.  Shoto rebuilding his relationship with his family was good, but THIS is a big step since it’s not just Shoto taking action.  It’s the whole family.

Wooo... I think that’s it.  Again, the Todoroki Family storyline is one of my favorites in the BNHA series.  Probably the most controversial and dividing, but still damn good.  I feel bad for everyone in this family.  Everyone but Shoto feels some kind of blame and ultimately they are at fault here to some degree.  The biggest ones are obviously Enji and Touya himself.  Rei’s also a big reason why things went wrong (she really could’ve helped Touya more), but not NEARLY as much as the big two.  Shoto’s the only one who isn’t at fault at all yet he’s still willing to step up to the plate to help his family.  Again, I love this kid so damn much 💙!  I’m sorry if I missed any details btw.  I might make edits to fix them when the official release comes out on Sunday.  

TL;DR Version of Last 2 BNHA Chapters:

[evaxsombra]

If you could regain your eyesight, would you? How high of a price would you be willing to pay if so?

I...I’m not sure. Everyone always told me my eyes couldn’t be fixed so I’ve just lived my life accepting that. And it hasn’t been that bad, don’t get me wrong. Sure, I think a lot of my struggles came from the fact I couldn’t see the world like everyone else. It made it harder to survive. I had to leave my first home because of it...and maybe my blindness is the reason my parents left....But a huge part of me is used to my life like this. I met my family and friends because of my blindness. My fighting style is centered around the fact I’m blind. I love the way I “see” the world with my other senses. And while maybe I would’ve become a Shifter faster with eyesight, I definitely wouldn’t have chosen the animals I did if I could see. I wouldn’t have Chupa! I wouldn’t have Prospero or Lilith. I wouldn’t be a Spade. So I guess my initial answer is no, but...

Do you mind if I tell you a secret? 

I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to see. Everyone is always talking around me about things I can’t really understand. People talk about how pretty the snow looks covering the mountains in winter. What does that look like? I know mountains are big and snow is white and trees are usually green or naked in the winter, but there’s no image in head to go with the description. I have to fill it in with my other senses. Or when I go to the Palace, I love listening to the voices, the movements, the shift in the atmosphere. It’s amazing! But so often, there’s these moments that happen that the audience is reacting to something that I can’t see and it can hard when there’s no one to describe what’s happening to me. There’s gaps I have to fill that make it hard to enjoy the play sometimes. 

I try not to let it get to me and most of the time I think I do a pretty good job of appreciating what I do have and what I can do. But in those moments...I can’t tell you how strong that feeling is--the longing to have my eyesight. Just shy of sacrificing my loved ones, I’d give up anything to see, even if just for a moment. And yet...I’m so scared of what I’ll see, that the shadows that are always around me will be even more terrifying when I can put names and faces to them. And I feel like my entire life has been defined by my blindness--my fighting style, my animals, the family and friends I’ve made, the scars--I’m afraid of who I’ll be when the one thing I’ve been certain of my entire life...disappears.

[toooldforfandom-liveblogs]

RWBY V08E05 - Amity

Amity! A return to the adventures of RWB? With no Penny sadly. I doubt we'll get so many visual puns again but who knows, maybe they'll make friends with Whitley or at least have a cordial chat with him without killing each other. I have no idea, so let's do this!

Wow, great start. Poor Pietro, got copypasted there with no regard for his feelings.

I'm very glad I was wrong about no Penny.. Even if every second she's on screen increases the chances of something bad happening to her.

Why does the HUD look like someone used the wand from photoshop to extract it from a white background?

Wait, are they going to blow up the Dust to launch amity into space?

Penny is right, that doesn't seem like a good idea but it's also incredibly in-character for the show. Now even caves are a gun.

Someone at Rooster Teeth really likes the idea of little old ladies riding huge robots, and honestly? Can't disagree.

hmmmmmmmm not a big fan of pietro at the moment

oof, my heart

Maria continues to be the voice of wisdom. Sadly, I doubt Pietro is going to listen to her.

In the original tale Pinocchio ends up learning by making bad choice after bad choice. Penny doesn't seem to have that much in common with her inspiration but if she hasn't ever been able to make a choice at all, would it be surprising if the first time she makes a choice it ends up being a bad one? It wouldn't surprise me if this is setting her up to fly away from Amity (against Pietro's wishes) once she notices something went wrong with everyone else (making her vulnerable)

Welp.

look at that poor girl

Aaaa, that's the same expression she used when Ruby said Penny was still the Protector of Mantle. "my feelings don't matter, conceal, don't feel, don't let them kn— wait, never mind

but yeah, she's used to putting everyone ahead of her (because as a robot she supposedly doesn't know better, there's a reason that was her first thought when she was talking with Winter in last season)

aw poop

Cinder was moving so fast she left her shadow behind.

Great deranged expression and voice though. Did she bring both Neo and Emerald or just the latter?

Penny yes

Hey, 9 blades! For a second I thought they wouldn't remember that she lost one.

no, no, no, time for what? aaaaa

Now that we have more context, Cinder using her own experiences to know where to hurt people is * chef kiss *

Intentional reference to the PvP fight?

okay, I didn't expect badass Maria to actually fight using her robot but I blame my own lack of imagination

now I'm hyped, it also gives something the other two something to do.

I think the main problem here for the good guys is that if Pietro gets threatened there's no way Penny is not going to surrender. Although, maybe he gets kidnapped? That'd make him get "swallowed" by a whale... hm. Another possibility is that they threaten Pietro and Penny gets hacked "just in time"

you can't lie to me, subtitles, I know she was going to say bitch

lol at crashing the entire ship into maria to get her out of the way

bad mistake to hurt one of Penny's friends in front of her

Did anyone give a job to poor Emerald? I can almost see Cinder telling Neo to distract people while in the ship with Emerald sitting in the back seat trying to get noticed.

C'mon Neo, leave the old lady alone

…of course she wouldn't leave her alone, she's Neo, she likes playing with her victims

I wonder if Neo has a deeper plan than "killing this old lady while looking like her protege would be incredibly cruel and extra and therefore worth doing"

If the drifting was an accident, where did Emerald go?

waiting for the RWBY shmup

I understand why she's leaving Amity (to prevent their fight from destroying it by accident) but leaving Pietro alone feels like a bad idea.

…this HUD is a lot cleaner, I don't get it, it should be the same png overlay

anyway, took the screenshot to write "wow, Cinder is actually capable of thinking through her rage these days, good for her" but now that I think about it, I'm not sure if she's ever been fooled.

booo

I wanted more evil Ruby

Also, I'm literally loling at Maria yoda-ing Neo.

ah yes, neo, so graceful

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

mmmmmmm

mmm

oof, looks like that was a direct hit. And the worst part is that the second James hacks into Penny, I assume it'll will work that way. Probably her worst nightmare.

Yeah, no, this worked for spiderman because his nemesis wasn't right in front of him.

I like the idea of this shot but for some reason the execution looks weird. Maybe it's just awkward positioning, it's hard to tell the angles.

lmao

* cough *

I mean, yeah, saw that coming.

For a second I thought she was melting her face but then I remembered the one reason Cinder has that arm.

I'm going to need a diagram to know what Emerald was doing.

Yessss, no need for swords if you can make your own

I really need to know what she was doing inside because right now it feels like that was the worst excuse ever to get her out of the fight until the last possible second (and maybe make it another reference to PvP when Ruby exits the corridor?)

Did she finally see Pietro?

Emerald has so much faith in Cinder, sigh

I wonder if before the end of the show Neo will get to stab someone with her umbrella. Maybe it could even be Cinder

First time she gets knocked out?

Cinder with a long spear only means one thing. Someone is getting stabbed

Huh.

I hadn't thought about this until now but before this second I'd have said Emerald's semblance shouldn't work on Penny. Like, what part is she affecting to make Penny see the duplicates? But I guess it does work, somehow. Maybe reality gets processed through Aura.

Fire spear vs laser, who wins?

Giant laser wins

Glad that Penny is confirmed as the most powerful character in the show.

Poor Emerald, two lines this episode and they are both "CINDER"

Damn, she looks done with their crap.

And now she looks absolutely feral. Loving this.

I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. If she gets hacked now, Cinder still wins. She wouldn't get the maiden powers but at least she'd stop the transmission.

aaaaa

Emerald breaks my heart. So much love for someone who couldn't give a hoot about her.

At least Cinder seems to know her place with Salem, but I can't tell if she started like Emerald and got her love beaten down or if she just had different priorities after getting saved from what seemed similar circumstances.

Ah, Neo. Now to add to her resume that she beat a granny only because she got distracted.

oh, shut up, Pietro

Is this it? Is this where Penny "rebels"?

Even after all that fight, I think this is the best animation of the episode so far. It conveys so much resignation and annoyance.

I think this is the first time this season RWBY makes me teary-eyed. She finally said it!

This is too cute for this world.

Remember when I said that hug with Ruby felt like a goodbye? Well, this is much worse.

Wooo, she succeeded! (I hope, they did mention the message was a couple of minutes long)

But I'm also even more worried now because it feels like the one last thing she had to do.

They are back!

I wonder if the one character I miss the most will also get a shot.

Pensive Whitley? more likely than you think

He has a lot of potential, especially now that Salem -> Cinder -> Emerald are a thing, making cyclical abuse more of an explicit theme. Not sure if there's enough time to do him justice though, considering he's not much of a character.

"we don't want to reveal Vacuo yet, what do we do?" "put them in the desert"

Yessss, Ilia got a cameo!

Are they pulling her back from voiceless purgatory?

Holy shit, wow, really didn't expect to see her.

Literally a pet. I wonder where the hound falls in the hierarchy

...why is she so happy? She's not supposed to be happy!!

siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

yeah

was expecting this

Poor guy, I wonder if this is the first news he gets from her daughters.

Taiyang made me realize they didn't show Yang's team. Huh.

Oh, fuck you rooster teeth.

Fuck oofffff (RT, not you, Pietro)

Is Winter end up doing the right thing? She's obviously affected by seeing Penny's sword there.

Also, I wonder if her new armor is just that or if it's a bracing system to help her move so soon after getting beat. But I guess that wouldn't be necessary if her aura helped her heal.

Hopefully, if Watts escapes and tries to get everyone else to help (since I doubt he can beat all the guards on his own), Qrow shows he learned his lesson about trusting the enemy.

ah, there you go

Okay, this is an amazing reveal. Is Salem transforming Mantle into another land of darkness? Because that'd definitely explain why she was so unworried about the broadcast.

What a way to end the episode. A brief moment of hope completely destroyed, twice.

Penny has been raising so many death flags that her inevitable hacking lacked some impact. I'm still sad (and annoyed at RT for poor Penny being a magnet for suffering) but Watts being Watts maybe he did a bad job just to prevent Atlas to escape? And Penny seemed able to resist? aaaah, I don't know. Now that the hacking finally happened all the foreshadowing is over, anything could happen.

The worst part of the hack is that it modified Penny's thoughts. It wasn't a complete takeover, like with Pietro, it was a lot more insidious. Literally making true what Cinder told her. Ugh.

Looking back at the screenshots, wow, a lot of the episode was just them fighting, but there were some fun moments, like Maria kicking Neo's ass.

Very curious about where it's going. Both the Penny plot (there's absolutely no way hacked Penny doesn't fight Ruby, there's probably a rule written in the universe about having mind-controlled people fight their loved ones) and the river of Grimm which was an excellent secondary gut punch. Really, loved that reveal. "You thought things were bad? lol"

I think that's all for now, until next time!

[sojourne]

I'm out of My Head, of My Heart and My Mind

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier x Reader

Plot: Late one night, Geralt comes back to you and Jaskier after a hunt with a wound on his shoulder and a heated, feral look in his eyes. He tells you and Jaskier to head for the hills, but of course, neither of you listen.

And for once, Geralt's glad that you two ignored his instructions.

Warnings: Mildly Dubious Consent, Aphrodisiacs, Fuck-or-Die, Threesome (F/M/M), Rough Sex, Biting, Scenting, Scent Kink, Size Kink, Size Difference, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Voyeurism, Breeding (discussed, not actually happening), Blow Jobs

Notes: Hey look, I've found another Fandom to rub my grubby little hands on! Anyways I fell in love with these idiots as soon as I saw them and I've been binge reading almost every Witcher fic I can find. During my reading I realized there's a lack of reader insert fics and Jaskier/Reader fics so I decided to remedy that!

Also I know everyone and their sister has written a fuck-or-die fic already but... I'm a slut for that trope so I decided to add my own to the pile.

Title is taken from The Wolf by SIAMÉS!

Taglist: Not gonna put my taglist since this isn’t an AHS fanfic and I dunno if anyone wants to see this lmaooooo

You had to admit, when you had first started traveling with Geralt and Jaskier, you couldn’t understand the Witcher’s frustration with the bard. He seemed kind and full of life, and was always eager to lend a hand and would comfort both you and Geralt with equal enthusiasm.

But now, sitting around the dwindling campfire, the sun having long since vanished behind the hills, you really wished Jaskier would give it a rest.

“Do you think he’ll come back soon?” His lilting voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you let out a long, drawn out sigh, sliding down the log you were sitting on and draping yourself over it, hanging limply.

“I didn’t know ten minutes ago, I didn’t know five minutes ago, and I still don’t know now,” you grumbled, staring up at the clear night sky, watching the stars twinkle and shine above you, the moon illuminating the surrounding landscape with a soft, otherworldly glow. You heard Jaskier let out a huff, shifting around on the other side of the campfire.

“Which way did you say he went again?” Jaskier asked, peering over at you. You sighed, sitting up and staring over at him with narrow eyes, knowing exactly what he was up to.

“He told us to stay here for a reason, Jaskier. He left a while ago and if you try to follow him now you’re just going to get lost, and when he comes back I’m going to have to send him right back out into the woods to come rescue you,” you said, Jaskier gasping dramatically and grasping his chest in mock-hurt.

“Y/N, I can’t believe you would say such a thing about your dear friend Jaskier,” he began dramatically, making you smile slightly and roll your eyes. Jaskier was obnoxious, yes, but he was still your friend and you just couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

“In fact, I think that— hm?” He suddenly stopped, leaning to look past you and squint into the darkness. You cocked your head at him, raising a brow. You were about to ask what was wrong when you say his eyes widen, his face growing pale as he began scrambling to stand up, causing you to turn and look behind you, wondering what had startled the bard.

Geralt.

You could hardly see him in the darkness but you spotted the white of his hair moving through the shadows, his pace slow and lethargic. You immediately got up, running after Jaskier.

“Geralt!” The bard cried in alarm, the two of you finally noticing the bleeding wound on the Witcher’s shoulder. It looked like a bite mark. Geralt let out a deep, rumbling growl as the two of you approached before slumping down onto the ground, now on his knees.

“Don’t,” he barked, you and Jaskier immediately freezing, exchanging a concerned glance before looking back to Geralt.

“Geralt, what—“ you tried to speak but he cut you off, grunting. You looked over to Jaskier who was nearly vibrating with energy, his instincts telling him to go to Geralt, to help him and comfort him, but he stayed put, not wanting to upset the Witcher further.

“You two, get Roach and go back to the town, now,” he snapped, looking between you and Jaskier with a strange expression on his face that you had never seen before. It almost looked like fear.

“But Geralt, the monster—“

“It’s dead,” Geralt said, cutting Jaskier off before the bard could finish. Jaskier looked confused, his browns furrowed as he shifted from one foot to another, staring at Geralt.

“Wait, what? If it’s dead why do we need to run? Geralt, you look like you got bitten, is that a bite mark? Was it a werewolf? Are you going to turn into a werewolf now?” Jaskier immediately began rambling, Geralt staring at him in frustration.

“Fucks sake bard, can you not listen? I said take Y/N and Roach and go,” he snarled, both you and Jaskier jumping at his desperate tone.

“Geralt, what bit you? What can we do? You must have something in your bag that can help, some kind of potion,” you began desperately, reaching out slowly towards Geralt, who only growled at your hands and leaned away, like a wild animal that had never seen a human before. He was still for a moment, taking long, deep breaths and trying to steady himself, his eyes starting to look glassy and out of focus.

“There’s nothing you can do. You need to get as far away from me as possible, you two need to get somewhere safe,” he said, the shakiness in his voice making your blood run cold. You had never heard Geralt sound so desperate and unsteady before, and you didn’t understand why he wanted you two to leave him here while he was injured.

“Gods, Geralt, what bit you? Tell us— tell us so we can help,” Jaskier pleaded, taking a few steps closer to the white-haired man. Geralt growled deep in his throat, closing his eyes tightly and groaning.

“A fucking succubus bit me, bard. So unless you want me to fuck you to death you need to leave,” Geralt bit out, his voice deep and rumbling.

Oh.

You looked over at Jaskier, who now stared at Geralt with wide eyes, his cheeks flushing pink and for once, he was at a loss for words.

You looked back to Geralt who was now sweating profusely, pale skin flushed and eyes unfocused, trying to keep his gaze off of you and Jaskier and on the ground. You sighed, running your hands through your hair, looking over to Jaskier once more before slowly approaching Geralt, a concerned look on your face.

“Geralt,” you spoke softly as to not alarm him, the man grunting in response. “What happens if we leave you here? Will you be okay?” you asked softly, Geralt sighing and squeezing his eyes shut, his fists clenching in the dirt below him.

“No.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, completely dumbfounded. “We’re not going to leave you here to die in the woods. We’re not leaving you here alone,” he said, Geralt letting out a loud groan of annoyance, very close to losing his patience.

“Dammit Jaskier, listen to me for once in your life. I’ve been poisoned, the only way to get it out is for me to fuck it out of my system, and I’m not doing that to you. I’m not hurting you,” Geralt said, now panting slightly. Jaskier turned to look at you, a terrified expression on his face, terrified at the prospect of losing Geralt. You pressed your lips together in a firm line, grunting as you fell down to your knees in front of Geralt, staring at him.

“Geralt, you’re our friend— you’re our friend and we’re not leaving you out here to die alone. Just… Let me help you, Jaskier can go back to the village and I’ll stay here,” you said firmly, Geralt’s eyes snapping open, and although he was still staring at the ground you could see that his eyes were nearly black, his pupils completely dilated.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Y/N,” Geralt said, letting out a soft, delirious laugh. You seldom heard Geralt laugh, or really make any noise besides hmm or ugh or fuck. This was probably the most you had heard him say in weeks, which would have been amazing if the conversation didn’t revolve around his fear of fucking you or Jaskier to death.

“Oh, now you’re telling me to go run back to the village? Y/N, I barely listen to Geralt and he’s large enough to pick me up and snap me like a branch, and you think I’ll listen to you?” Jaskier said, trying to lighten the mood, but the high-pitched and scared tone of his voice wasn’t very convincing.

“Y/N, Jaskier, if you stay I’m just going to hurt you, you need to go. Please,” Geralt croaked out the last word, still staring down at the ground, his brows furrowed. You nearly fell over, blinking in surprise at the Witcher’s words.

 That was the first time you had ever heard him say please.

You looked up at Jaskier, staring at him for a moment before you looked back to Geralt, taking a deep breath.

“And what if I want you to hurt me, Geralt?” You asked and before you even knew what was happening Jaskier was diving out of the way with a yelp as Geralt launched himself towards you, pinning you to the ground and pressing his lips against yours in a rough kiss.

You let out a squeak at the sudden pressure and warmth against you, the feel and sound and scent of Geralt borderline intoxicating as his hands squeezed your shoulders, his tongue quickly pressing into your mouth and eliciting a soft, surprised whine from your throat.

“Oh, well, right then, I suppose we’re starting already,” Jaskier warbled from a few feet away, his voice strained. You gasped for air as Geralt broke away from the kiss, immediately moving down to nip and lick at your neck, inhaling your scent and letting out a rumbling growl against your throat. You gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly, careful to avoid touching his wound as you felt him biting you before soothing over the mark with his tongue.

Jaskier watched on in awe, his face flushed red as he watched Geralt biting your throat and rutting against you, his golden eyes glassy and clouded with lust.

“Smells so fucking good,” Geralt growled down at you, nuzzling under your neck and licking a stripe up your jaw. You whimpered, gasping softly as you felt the outline of his heavy cock through his trousers, already hard and thick. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye and looked up to see Jaskier stepping closer, pupils blown wide as he watched the two of you.

“So, uh, you want me to stay and help?” He asked, unable to take his eyes off of you. Geralt was completely ignoring him, alternating between stripping off his layers of armor and marking your neck. You nodded at Jaskier, gasping as Geralt once again bit you. He didn’t break the skin, to your surprise, but you knew that there would be a bruise there come morning.

“Yeah, uh, I figure it’ll be easier this way— he can have me first and when I’m tired he can, fuck— he can have you,” you spoke, trying to ignore the older mans mouth on your flushed skin, his teeth and tongue already driving you mad. Jaskier nodded, wringing his hands together awkwardly before glancing to Geralt who now had his armor and shirt removed, allowing Jaskier’s eyes to rake over his pale skin, marred with scars both new and old, telling the story of his exploits and battles.

You let out a startled yelp when you were suddenly flipped over onto your stomach, Geralt’s hands moving to your hips to yank your ass up, growling as he began tugging down your pants and smallclothes. You quickly shrugged off your shirt, laying it down on the ground under you so that you at least had something soft to rest on. Jaskier watched, hypnotized as you were undressed, Geralt grasping your hips with a bruising grip as he leaned over you, his muscles rippling and flexing under his skin.

Jaskier had seen Geralt naked more times than he could count, familiar with the other mans body after years of traveling with him, bathing with him and cleaning his wounds after his hunts, but he had to admit, he had never seen Geralt… Like this. Feral, eager, his heavy cock hanging between his legs, precum already spilling from the flushed tip. It had Jaskier swallowing hard and shifting around awkwardly, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his own trousers.

You let out a high-pitched moan when Geralt finally yanked your pants off, baring your wet cunt to him. You heard him growl behind you, one hand gripping your hip and one hand moving to splay over your back between your shoulders, pushing you down onto the ground roughly. You grunted, spreading your legs and allowing Geralt better access to your entrance.

“Okay— okay, Geralt, let’s just start out slow at first and then— FUCK!” you keened as you suddenly felt the head of his cock pressing into you, the thick shaft following soon after, splitting you open and driving deep inside you. Jaskier yelped in alarm, quickly moving down to kneel in front of you, hands on the ground to steady himself. You cried out as Geralt continued thrusting against you, letting out grunts and growls as he fucked himself deeper inside of your tight, wet heat, his entire body feeling like it was on fire.

“Shit, Y/N— are you okay?” Jaskier asked and you shakily lifted yourself up on your elbows, whimpering at the burn and stretch of Geralt’s heavy cock, pressing further inside you than you thought was possible. You bit your lip, nodding your head quickly as your eyes fluttered shut, trying to adjust to the feeling of being split open and spread so thoroughly and roughly. Geralt, at least, seemed to still be mildly aware of what was going on and was trying to hold himself back, stilling momentarily to let you get used to the feeling.

“Yeah,” you squeaked out at Jaskier, shuddering as you felt Geralt twitch inside of you. “He’s just, fuck— he’s big, I feel like he’s gonna tear me in half,” you whined, panting. Jaskier was now breathing heavily, staring at you, at your eyes and your lips and the beads of sweat glistening on your skin. Suddenly one of Geralt’s large hands was back on your shoulder, shoving you back down to the ground and you groaned as his cock shifted around inside of you, sliding deeper.

He leaned over you, panting and shuddering as you clenched and contracted around him. His eyes were closed in concentration, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to bruise and the other against your shoulder, pressing you down and making sure you stayed put. His weight on top of you effectively prevented you from squirming away, making sure you took every last inch of his thick length.

Jaskier was breathless, his cock now painfully hard as he watched Geralt take you, rutting you into the ground like a feral animal. He swallowed thickly, shakily reaching forward to touch the side of your face in a comforting gesture. As soon as he touched your fevered skin he heard Geralt let out a deep growl, the bard looking up to see a pair of glowing, cat-like eyes glaring at him.

“Mine,” the Witcher grunted, snapping his hips forward and finally burying the rest of his sizable cock inside of your cunt, his eyes rolling back in his head. You were panting now, wheezing and trying to catch your breath as you felt his heavy sac pressing against your entrance. You shuddered under him, sighing in relief as you knew he had no more for you, no more to press and fuck and grind into you.

“Fuck, Geralt, learn to share,” you grit out, finally beginning to relax and adjust to the feeling of the witcher’s cock inside of you. Jaskier looked up at Geralt again who was once again staring at him, his heated gaze sending shivers down the bard’s spine. Jaskier hesitantly pulled his eyes away from Geralt and back down to you, scooting closer.

“Is this okay? Are you okay? I can— I can take over whenever you want,” he said, licking his lips. You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head and shifting around, spreading your legs wider to allow Geralt more room.

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine, really,” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows together as you felt Geralt slowly pulling out, before slamming back inside you with a grunt. Your entire body lurched forward from the force of his thrust, nearly landing on Jaskier’s lap as Geralt immediately began fucking you with force, gasping as you tightened around him.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s a good girl,” Geralt growled, his eyes fluttering closed and lead lolling back as he continued pounding you, completely unfazed by the fact that Jaskier was staring. You moaned desperately with every forceful thrust, the once silent forest now overwhelmed with the cacophony of pleasured moans and skin against skin. The only intimacy you’d ever had before Geralt had been fumbling, awkward and disorganized, a stark contrast to the rough, thorough fuck Geralt was giving you now.

You had also never had someone watch before.

You glanced up at Jaskier, feeling a fresh wave of wetness hit your cunt as you noticed the obvious tent in his trousers, the bard still watching you and Geralt, his usually pale cheeks flushed pink.

“Are you enjoying the show?” you moaned out, Jaskier jolting slightly in surprise as he looked down at you, blinking. His lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips before he nodded.

“Yes— yes, very much so,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and rumbling, making you shiver. Geralt, displeased with the sudden conversation between you and the bard immediately worked to bring your attention back to himself, reaching down to lift one of your legs, turning your body slightly in order to fuck you from a different angle. You immediately cried out, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt him roll his hips against yours, his body quivering.

“Gonna cum soon, my little whore. Will that satisfy you, then? Being fucked full, being bred?” Geralt rumbled, snapping his hips against yours. Even Jaskier let out a moan as the filth spilled from Geralt’s flushed lips, not sure whether to be glad he was able to watch Geralt have his way with you, or jealous that it wasn’t him, pressed beneath the Witcher, being split open on his heavy cock.

“Yes, fuck— yes, please, please,” you moaned loudly, pressing your hips back against Geralt’s as you felt your own orgasm drawing closer, nearly screaming when you felt Geralt reach down to cup your cunt, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit, the sudden friction sending you over the edge, your entire body tensing. 

Jaskier watched in awe as your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezing shut as Geralt gave one, two, three more thrusts and then he was stilling against you, balls deep inside your cunt as he let out a deep, feral growl that sounded more animal than man.

You whimpered loudly as you felt Geralt fill you, your body unable to contain the (frankly ridiculous) amount of cum as it began leaking out around his cock, coating your thighs and ass and he didn’t seem to stop, continuing to gasp and twitch against you, rutting his hips against yours in an effort to fill you as deeply as possible, the Succubus’ poison and his own feral instincts telling him to fuck you, fill you, breed you, use his fangs and scent and cum to mark you as his territory.

Jaskier, despite being untouched, couldn’t help but moan weakly as he watched his friend fill you, eyes raking over Geralt’s sweat-slicked body, muscles rippling and straining, the light of the moon almost giving Geralt’s pale hair and skin a ghostly glow. His eyes then moved down to you, watching the way your chest rose and fell, your breasts heaving, cunt flushed and well-fucked, dripping with cum.

Geralt seemed to momentarily withdraw from the lust-induced haze of the Succubus’ poison, gritting his teeth as he felt your slick walls contract around his oversensitive cock. He panted, taking a moment to gather himself before he loosened his grip on you, trying not to think about how hard his fingers were digging into your skin and how, come morning, you’ll be covered in bruises.

“Are you okay?” he rumbled, your eyes flicking up to his. You gave him a weak smile, biting your lower lip and nodding your head, trying to ignore that his cock was still hard and pulsing inside of you despite the fact he had just cum.

“Yeah,” you breathed, your throat raw from constant moaning. Geralt’s lips pressed together in a firm line, observing you and Jaskier and trying to ignore the scent of sex and lust in the air, his senses being overwhelmed with the combined smell of you and the bard. To his relief he smelled no fear, only want, need, pleasure, the scents swirling around him like an aromatic perfume, his cock hardening even further.

“Are you sure? I didn’t even prepare you properly, I could have…” Geralt trailed off, averting his gaze from you and trying to ignore the guilt welling up inside his chest. You sighed softly, shifting towards him and causing him to grunt as his oversensitive cock shifted inside of you.

“Geralt, I said I’m okay. Yeah, you didn’t prepare me or anything and it stung a bit but… I liked it. Everyone else has always been so gentle with me that it barely even felt like anything, treating me like I was some fragile thing that was going to break,” you murmured, looking up at Geralt who hummed softly, seeming to consider your words as he began rubbing small circles against your hips.

“It’s still not too late to leave and go back to the village,” Geralt said softly, trying to push down the feeling of nervousness that was welling up inside him, the fear that you and Jaskier would be frightened, disgusted, horrified with his actions. To his surprise you only laughed, shifting your hips towards him again and causing him to groan.

“Geralt, sometimes you listen about as well as Jaskier does. I told you, we’re not leaving you here,” you said, the Witcher giving you a soft smile. Jaskier let out a huff of indignation, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to look more serious, although it only caused him to look more ridiculous thanks to his flushed cheeks and the very obvious bulge in his trousers.

“I’ll have you know I listen perfectly well,” he said, Geralt rolling his eyes.

“Fine. If you can listen so well, go get the oil from your pack and get yourself ready for me,” Geralt said, giving Jaskier a smirk. The bard immediately scrambled up, quickly moving back over to the campfire to rifle through his belongings. Geralt huffed softly in amusement at the bards eagerness, before bringing his attention back down to you. You swallowed thickly, feeling the heat return to your cheeks as his golden eyes stared down at you.

“So, shall I spend myself in this tight little cunt once more or do you want me to move to Jaskier?” He rumbled, slowly rocking his hips against you and drawing a gasp from your throat. You laid back down on the ground, spreading your legs and baring your throat to him in submission. Geralt let out a deep growl from with in his chest, eyes darkening as he felt lust clouding his mind once again.

“Such a sweet little thing for me, so obedient,” he praised you, eyes half lidded as he slowly worked his hips against yours, his cock easily sliding in and out thanks to your wetness combined with his seed from your previous coupling. You whimpered softly as he leaned down, pressing his nose under your jaw and inhaling deeply, scenting you. You were broken out of your thoughts as a blanket was spread out next to you, Jaskier plopping down on it with a huff.

“I swear, like horny teenagers you two are, I leave for only a moment and when I return you’re already rutting her again like a beast,” Jaskier scolded, although you could tell he didn’t really mean it. Your gaze flickered up to the brunette as he began tugging his clothes off, shivering as the cool night air hit his skin. Geralt smirked at Jaskier, looking the bard right in the eye as he continued working his cock inside of you.

“I don’t think you mind,” Geralt drawled, Jaskier swallowing thickly at the other mans heated gaze. “In fact, I think you quite like it, watching me fuck her and rut her,” Geralt said, noticing how Jaskier’s eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“Maybe I do,” Jaskier said brusquely, his voice strained as he continued pulling off his clothes, his chest now completely bare. He was pale and smooth, save for a few scars dotted sparsely across his body, gained during his travels with Geralt. You continued writhing under the Witcher, your cunt sore and oversensitive from the rough fucking he gave you only moments ago.

“Oh, I know you do. I can smell it on you, smell the desire and lust rolling off your skin. Tell me, Jaskier, when I finally pull you down onto my cock and split you open, will you sing for me, my little lark? Or will you moan and cry out like a whore?” Geralt growled the last word, knowing it would get a reaction out of Jaskier and that it did, the bard immediately sputtering and opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched at the Witcher’s vulgar and degrading words.

Jaskier let out a whine of relief as he finally removed the rest of his clothes, now able to palm his flushed and heavy cock. You moaned at the sight, at the knowledge that he was so hard and eager just from watching Geralt take you. Jaskier shakily uncorked the bottle of oil, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers before reaching around to begin preparing himself. Geralt watched in rapt fascination at the bard’s subtle reactions, the way his plush lips parted in a soft gasp, the way his hips twitched forward before grinding back against his slick fingers, the way his eyelids would flutter every time he pressed his fingers deeper inside of himself.

You whimpered as you felt heat building inside you once again, your entire body feeling like it was melting as Geralt continued fucking you, his hips snapping against yours, not as frantic as before but still rough, his calloused hands pressing you to the ground to ensure you couldn’t move away from his powerful thrusts. Jaskier in the meantime was conflicted, trying to figure out whether or not to watch you or Geralt, still fucking himself open with his fingers, his fat cock bobbing at the motion of his hips.

“Are you enjoying this, Jaskier, watching me fuck her open in front of you? Or are you jealous? Would you rather be in her place?” Geralt said, giving a particularly hard thrust that drew out a sharp whine from your throat. The bard’s eyes flickered down to look at you, watching the way your hands flexed as you fisted your hands into your shirt, your eyebrows knitted together and mouth hanging open, your body shuddering and twitching as your orgasm fast-approached.

“Gods, Geralt— the fucking mouth on you. If I knew you’d— shit, be this talkative I’d have found a succubus to bite you months ago,” Jaskier growled out, keening as he pressed a third finger into himself, the stretch dancing the line between pain and pleasure as he opened himself up. Geralt only let out a soft huff of laughter, before turning his attention back to you, his nostrils flaring at the delicious scent you were giving off.

“Are you going to cum, girl? Cum around my cock and milk it, let me fuck you full again?” Geralt growled, speeding up his thrusts and relishing the sounds you were making, the way your hips were pressing back against him, the way you cried out every time the fat head of his cock pressed against that spot deep inside of you.

“Please, Geralt, please, please,” you cried out, not even sure what you were begging for, your brain completely overwhelmed with pleasure. Geralt let out a low, rumbling moan, his hips stuttering as he felt his own impending orgasm. Jaskier watched with bated breath as Geralt once again reached under you to palm your cunt, this time choosing to pinch and roll your swollen clit between his fingers. You moaned loudly, panting and twitching against Geralt as you felt yourself cumming, the girth of his cock almost painful inside of you as you clenched around him.

“Fuck— that’s it, good girl, show Jaskier what a good little bitch you are for me,” the Witcher snarled, pressing his hips firmly against yours as he spilled inside you once again, making sure his throbbing cock was as deep in your cunt as possible. Jaskier moaned, pressing his fingers inside himself as far as he could, almost oblivious to the way his wrist ached as he ground back against his hand.

Geralt was panting, slowly coming down from the high of the Succubus’ poison once again. You whined as he slowly moved back, shivering as you felt the amount of cum that spilled out of you when he finally pulled out. You were sore and oversensitive, but you immediately found yourself missing the delicious stretch of his cock, feeling empty now that he was no longer inside of you.

Geralt sighed, lowering himself to his side and flopping down onto the ground, the coolness of the grass soothing his heated skin. Jaskier whimpered as he removed his fingers from himself, wiping off the excess oil on his discarded clothes as he stood on shaky legs, grabbing the blanket and moving it over to you and Geralt, letting you crawl on top of it before he sat down next to you.

Geralt watched you two silently, his golden eyes almost seeming to glow in the darkness. Jaskier swallowed thickly, a soft moan bubbling up in his throat as he realized that Geralt was still hard, his flushed length now resting against his stomach.

“So that— I mean, is that normal? Some sort of weird Witcher magic or did you just, I don’t know, sit there and let the Succubus chew on you for a while?” Jaskier said, still staring at the sizable cock. He had always thought that he was above average, or at least proportioned decently enough to keep men and women alike coming back again and again but oh, sweet Gods, Geralt was an absolute beast. Jaskier made a mental note to ask you later how you were able to take that thing inside yourself without being torn in half.

Geralt chuckled, feeling oddly pleased that his length was so captivating to the bard.

“I do have quite a bit of stamina from my mutations but no, this doesn’t usually happen,” he said, eyeing Jaskier who let out a soft noise of acknowledgement.

“What a pity,” Jaskier murmured, still staring at Geralt’s length, “Oh, the songs I could write about you and your divine dick,” Jaskier said dreamily, the Witcher giving him a disapproving look, like a parent that had just watched their child jump into a puddle of mud after specifically telling them not to. You groaned softly as you moved to rest your head against Geralt’s thigh, your eyes flicking up to look at Jaskier.

“I think if you write a song about his dick he’ll rip yours clean off,” you said, Geralt letting out a snort in response. Jaskier frowned, pursing his lips and sparing you a glance as he adjusted his position, leaning closer to Geralt who eyed him curiously.

“I think—” Jaskier said, reaching up to let the tips of his fingers dance across Geralt’s length, which twitched at the stimulation, “I think that Geralt, the kind-hearted and caring man that he is, would find it in himself to forgive me for writing a few odes to this magnificent specimen, if in return, I show him why I’m a bard,” Jaskier said simply, both you and Geralt quirking a brow at him.

“Because you’re a bawdy whore that can’t keep his dick to himself?” Geralt asked playfully, ignoring the scowl Jaskier made at his comment.

“No, Geralt, that is not why I’m a bard. I’m a bard because I’m good with my mouth and my hands,” he said simply, immediately lifting Geralt’s cock to his lips and taking the head into his mouth. Geralt grunted, hips twitching up at the sudden stimulation. You watched as Jaskier suckled the Witcher’s cock, a giddy, bubbly feeling building in your stomach as you realized that his cock probably still tasted of you, tasted of your slick and wetness and desire.

You watched Geralt’s face curiously as you reached up, using your thumb and forefinger to stroke the base of his cock, still flushed and heavy. The white-haired man gasped softly at the additional contact, watching you and Jaskier through half-lidded eyes. Jaskier pulled back, panting softly and reaching up to fist the Witcher’s cock, pulling his foreskin back to reveal the plump, flushed tip.

Geralt gasped when the brunette began laving little kitten licks on the head of his cock, squeezing his length as you moved your hands down to cup and fondle Geralt’s heavy sac, your breath catching in your throat as you watched Jaskier, all gentle touches and flushed cheeks, eyes closed in content as he continued lapping at the slit of Geralt’s cock which was already dripping precum.

“You two will be the death of me,” Geralt groaned, letting his head thump against the ground. You and Jaskier both smiled fondly, the bard taking the head of his cock back into his mouth, pressing the flat of his tongue against it and slowly working his way down. He had sucked cocks before, of course, but none were as thick as Geralt’s, so he took it slow, not wanting to ruin the night or have to explain to the village’s doctor why he had a dick-shaped hole in his esophagus.

You shifted to rest your upper half over Geralt’s leg, Jaskier opening his eyes to watch you curiously. You only gave him a wink before leaning forward, running your tongue over a large vein on the side of Geralt’s cock. The Witcher grunted loudly, fisting his hands into the grass below him at the feeling of two warm, slick tongues worshipping his heated flesh. He had felt many things in his life; pain, rage, sadness, fear, but none compared to the absolute overwhelming pleasure you and the bard were granting him.

“If you two don’t stop— fuck, I’m going to cum,” Geralt growled, Jaskier pulling back with a wet pop and licking his lips, gazing at Geralt with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks.

“That’s the idea,” he murmured sweetly before swallowing Geralt down once again, trying to relax his throat as best he could. You continued alternating between stroking and licking Geralt’s cock, heat rising in your cheeks as you realized how close your mouth was to Jaskier’s. The bard, ever the showoff, made it nearly halfway down the thick cock before needing to pull up again, panting.

Geralt groaned, forcing his eyes open and tilting his head up to watch the two of you suck him, his length twitching at the erotic sight before him. You and Jaskier pulled back momentarily, staring at each other for a moment as Jaskier glanced at Geralt before leaning over, whispering something in your ear. Geralt watched as your expression changed from curiosity to surprise to embarrassment, your wide doe-eyes darting over to Geralt before Jaskier pulled back, licking his lips.

“What are you two— oh fuck,” Geralt cried out, eyes rolling back in his head as Jaskier’s mouth met yours with the flushed and dripping head of his cock pressed in the middle. It took all of his restraint not to fuck up into the hot, slick mouths around him, overwhelming him with pleasure. You whimpered softly as you felt Jaskier’s tongue brush against yours, Geralt’s cock twitching as you both wrapped your hand around his length, fingers intertwining as you both worked his cock.

“Fuck!” Geralt let out a loud snarl, his hips jerking upwards as he came, both you and Jaskier gasping in surprise as you felt the warmth of his cum coating your lips and tongues, leaking down his cock to cover your hands. You both licked him clean, continuing to slowly jerk him, feeling him shiver and grunt under you from overstimulation. Geralt wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or upset when you and the bard pulled away, panting and licking the remnants of his seed off your hands.

Geralt sighed in content, taking a moment to relax before slowly sitting up to look at you and Jaskier. You were both staring at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Jaskier shifted uncomfortably, Geralt’s gaze moving to the bards still hard cock, hanging fat and heavy between his legs.

“As much as I would enjoy pinning you down and fucking you I think that’ll you’ll have to settle on riding me, little lark,” Geralt rumbled, Jaskier letting out a soft whine as he noticed that Geralt’s cock was still hard. You grabbed the discarded bottle of oil from the blanket, handing it to Jaskier who uncorked it, licking his lips and pouring a decent amount onto his hand before reaching down and gripping the Witcher’s cock once again.

“So uh, Geralt— I know with Y/N you sort of just, you know, went for it, but I would like to remind you that, ah, I’m a bit more fragile than that,” Jaskier began rambling, staring wide-eyed at Geralt’s thick length. Geralt grunted, rolling his hips up into the bard’s tight grip.

“This isn’t my first time with a man, Jaskier, but if you don’t want this you can go back to the village and I can finish myself off,” he groaned, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed in concentration, trying to focus on the feeling of Jaskier’s hand, somehow both rough and soft at the same time, fisting his cock. Jaskier scoffed, tightening his grip slightly and drawing a choked gasp from the man under him.

“Oh please, this isn’t my first time with a man either, Geralt, and you know me, I’m never one to back down from a challenge,” he murmured, shifting around to face Geralt’s feet and straddle the larger mans waist, biting his lip as he felt the plump head of the Witcher’s cock brush against his entrance. Geralt reached up, gripping the bards hips and squeezing gently, the uncharacteristically soft gesture making Jaskier smile softly.

You watched with bated breath as Jaskier reached back, gripping Geralt’s cock and guiding it to his ass, letting out a sharp gasp as the head pressed inside.

“Easy, Jaskier, take your time,” Geralt rumbled from under him, eyes fluttering shut at the sudden tight, wet heat of the brunette’s body. Jaskier only let out a choked whine in response as he began sliding down, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched at the burn and stretch. You shifted forward, sitting up on your knees and reaching up to cup the side of Jaskier’s face, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours, already glassy and unfocused.

“That’s it, that’s a good boy, just relax yourself,” the Witcher growled as his cock slipped further inside, Jaskier keening and grinding down against Geralt. Jaskier nearly cried in relief when he finally felt Geralt’s hips connect with his, knowing the white-haired man was now balls deep inside him. They both sat for a moment, panting and shuddering, Jaskier trying desperately to adjust to the feeling of being fucked open like this, being speared on a cock so thick and made to take every last inch.

The bard sighed in content, reaching down to lay his hands over Geralt’s, which were still resting on his hips. He licked his lips, rocking back against the Witcher.

“Okay, fuck— I’m okay, you can go now, come on, don’t make me beg,” he whined, a shiver running up his spine as he heard Geralt let out a deep, animalistic growl under him. He nearly screamed when Geralt suddenly lifted him up before letting him drop back down, the Witcher’s cock sliding back in easily thanks to the oil. Geralt repeated the process again and again, Jaskier quickly losing track of how many times the older man had fucked into him, his mind completely lost to the overwhelming pleasure.

You watched with wide eyes, enraptured by the sounds coming out of Jaskier’s mouth. You had always thought that there would be no sound more beautiful and ethereal than the sound of Jaskier’s voice when he danced and spun around a tavern, singing his songs and strumming his lute, but now you were sure that his moans, breathless and desperate, were the most gorgeous noises you would ever hear from him.

He let out a litany of sounds, whines and pleas and wails, tears of pleasure welling up in his eyes as he was split on Geralt’s fat cock, his own cock now drooling precum all over his stomach and thighs.

“Gods, Geralt— fuck, please, you’re so good, so absolutely amazing, I feel like you’re in my stomach, oh—“ Jaskier let out a choked, broken moan as Geralt sped up, grunting and snarling under the bard, his hands now gripping the smaller mans hips tightly enough to bruise as he fucked up into him, his hips rolling upwards to meet the bards thrusts back against him.

“Fuck, I was right, you really do moan like a whore,” Geralt snarled, Jaskier keening and throwing his hips back against the older man, pleasure shooting like electricity through his body as Geralt brushed against that spot deep inside him that made him scream.

“Geralt, please, it’s so much— please, keep talking, your voice— it’s so good, please,” Jaskier cried out desperately, his body beginning to twitch and shake with the force of his impending orgasm. He reached for his cock, only for Geralt to snarl, easily trapping both of the bards smaller hands in his own larger one, pinning them behind Jaskier’s back as he fucked up into the bard with renewed vigor.

“Don’t you dare, bard. You’re going to cum on your own, fuck yourself down on my cock and cum untouched like the whore you are,” Geralt growled, Jaskier crying out loudly at a particularly rough thrust. Geralt continued his frantic pace, his arms and thighs burning from the strain but he kept going, chasing his own pleasure and rutting as deep into the bard’s tight ass as he could.

“Come on then, my lark, cum for me. I can fucking smell it on you, smell how eager you are to cum on my cock, how eager you are to feel me fill you up and breed you like the bitch you are,” and with that Jaskier came with a wail of Geralt’s name, his body tensing and his cock twitching, thick ropes of cum spilling all over his stomach and thighs, painting his flushed skin white.

Geralt came seconds later with an animalistic noise, burying his cock as deep inside the brunette as he could, sitting up and holding Jaskier against his chest before sinking his teeth into Jaskier’s neck and drawing another whine from the bard. Geralt slowly opened his mouth, removing his teeth from Jaskier’s tender shoulder as his eyes fluttered open, revealing the sight of… Oh.

“Jaskier, for fuck sake,” he said in exasperation, Jaskier only letting out a dreamy sigh in response.

“Oh, yes, I know— it was so good, I feel like I’m in Heaven,” Jaskier murmured, Geralt huffing out a sigh.

“No, idiot, look at what you did,” Geralt said, Jaskier blinking a few times to focus his eyes, which immediately landed on your face, staring at him with wide, owlish eyes, his expression mirroring yours as he realized that not only did he paint his chest and thighs with his cum, but your face as well.

“Oh shit— did I do that?“ Jaskier let out a choked sound, reaching forward and beginning to wipe your face clean. Geralt rolled his eyes, lifting Jaskier up slowly so that he could pull his now softening cock out.

“Well, considering my cock was buried in your ass when I spent myself I’m going to assume that yes, you did that,” the Witcher grumbled, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine at the pathetic, whimpering sound Jaskier made as he finally pulled out. Jaskier pulled up a discarded shirt, using it to wipe your face. You closed your eyes quickly, reaching to grab the shirt from his hands so you could clean the mess yourself.

“I ah, I’m terribly sorry about that, kind of got caught up in the moment, didn’t quite consider where I would be… Aiming,” Jaskier mumbled sheepishly. You pulled the shirt away from your face, glancing at it and frowning.

“Jaskier… Is this my shirt? Did you seriously just wipe your cum all over my shirt?” You asked incredulously, Jaskier looking down at the offending garment as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words to respond.

“I think you fucked the last of his braincells out, Geralt,” you remarked, the bard huffing and scowling at you. Geralt smiled softly, groaning and pushing Jaskier so he was no longer sitting on his sore thighs. You all sat in silence for a moment before Jaskier spoke, looking over to Geralt.

“So, are you feeling any better? Dick not too chaffed? I mean, if it is I can definitely help, I’ve still got some of that lovely oil I bought back when we were—“ Geralt silenced Jaskier with a soft kick to his shin, the bard yelping. You giggled softly, taking the opportunity while Jaskier was distracted to grab his discarded shirt, slipping it on along with your underwear while he was bickering with Geralt.

“Are you two going to fight all night or can we go lay down by the campfire where it’s warm?” You asked, the two men looking up at you. Geralt frowned and scrunched his nose up when he realized you were wearing Jaskier’s shirt, the bard on the other hand completely oblivious to your new wardrobe as he stood up with a grunt, beginning to yank his smallclothes and trousers back on.

You immediately noticed Geralt’s sour expression, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow at the Witcher.

“You’re wearing his shirt,” he grumbled as if he already knew what you were going to ask, Jaskier blinking in surprise and glancing to you, a wide smile on his face.

“Why that she is! It looks quite lovely on you, I must say,” the bard hummed, Geralt rolling his eyes and standing up with a groan, his muscles aching and sore. Jaskier reached out automatically to steady Geralt, giving him a soft smile.

“Geralt,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice as you eyed the Witcher. “Are you jealous? Is the big, bad White Wolf jealous that I’m wearing someone else’s shirt?” You asked, Geralt sighing loudly as he began walking back over to the campfire, not even slightly embarrassed to be the only one not wearing anything. You and Jaskier followed him, the bard sharing a mischievous look with you as you grabbed your bedrolls, laying them next to Geralt’s as he sat down.

Geralt gave no protest as you and Jaskier settled in on either side of him, piling your blankets together and snuggling closer. Geralt grunted as Jaskier slung one of his legs over his own, effectively trapping him. Geralt finally laid down with a huff, eyebrows furrowing as you immediately laid one of your hands on his chest, nuzzling into his side. You looked up at him, his golden eyes peering at you curiously.

“What’s wrong?” you murmured, staring up at him, Jaskier moving his head to look up at Geralt.

“I—“ he paused, looking away and considering his next words. “I don’t know why you two want to lay next to me after… That. I was rough with both of you. You’re fragile,” he murmured, refusing to meet your eyes. You and Jaskier exchanged a look before snuggling closer to Geralt, running your fingers over one of his scars absentmindedly.

“We already told you, we wanted it. We loved it and you weren’t too rough, we trust you. But, I mean— you didn’t— you didn’t really have a choice so if you don’t want us to sleep next to you I understand,“ you sighed, feeling guilt at the thought that Geralt was so concerned with you and Jaskier that he might have ignored his own wants. You shifted in order to move away but Geralt quickly wrapped a large, muscled arm around you, pulling you back against his chest.

“No. I wanted it. I just— didn’t think you would want it too,” Geralt rumbled, still staring up at the sky, trying to avoid your gaze. You relaxed against him again, finally closing your eyes.

“Oh Geralt, you really are oblivious,” Jaskier murmured with a sigh of content, the Witcher grumbling and wrapping an arm around the bard, squeezing him lightly and making the brunette smile.

For the first time in what felt like years, you all slept peacefully.

[naivesilver]

@bewilderedmoth​ FINE. Fine. Since today is a Monday and therefore a day much more suited for a vitriolic commentary on terrible insects, I shall fulfill your request and the anon’s. I’m warning everyone in the premises, though -  this is a “no fucks given” list, so it may get ugly at any time. Also, as usual, this is only for things that I’ve already watched, so if you know of some cricket horror and don’t see it mentioned, assume I’ve yet to get to that specific adaptation.

Alright then! To the barricades!

1) Disney’s Pinocchio (1940)

The first of his genre. Look at this asshole - he’s literally the last creature I’d entrust my child to. The fact Pinocchio had to spend his first couple days of life with this guy shadowing his every step is mind-boggling, and it’s made even worse by the fact that the Blue Fairy put him in charge of another man’s kid, as though she had the right to make that choice.

(I won’t fall for the desire of dunking on the Fairy more, as this is a Cricket list, but believe me, the temptation is there. It always is.)

As Disney sidekicks go, he’s one of the worst. He’s not funny, and despite having literally ONE job he manages to fail spectacularly at it. He’s snappish at Pinocchio, he abandons his charge about two hours into the new day, he spends a much longer time flirting with female-presenting inanimate objects/animals/supernatural beings than doing any actual childrearing. He should have been forgotten the instant the movie left the theaters, but instead Disney made him one of his main mascots, giving him the role of storyteller or ghost or whatever the fuck they need him to do at the time. So not only is he single-handedly responsible for every other entry in this list, I keep finding him everywhere I turn my eyes to. A knock-off version of his Ghost of Christmas Past self was in the new Ducktales, too, so my friend freenklin (who already has had to endure many of my complaints) received some VERY disappointed scream-texts as I was liveblogging my watch.

Just...no. Get him out of my sight.

(Also Ewan McGregor is bound to voice him in the live action and like??? Excuse me??? Are we supposed to not make Obi Wan jokes??? Will he abandon his young padawan Pinocchio to the evil Strombolitroopers???)

2) Pinocchio and the Emperor of the Night (1987)

This movie is at the bottom of my Pinocchio adaptation ranking, and boy, does it deserve the dishonor. The story is a weird mixture of adaptation and sequel, approximately a tenth of the characters actually appear in the book, and I can’t forgive them for ruining what could have been the coolest concept ever (Pinocchio as a pawn in a fight of good vs evil) into this disgrace of a cartoon.

As for the Cricket, in this case he’s not even a cricket. He’s a glowworm, and he’s a goddamn puppet too, to whom the Fairy gave life. I wonder, is the entirety of her job just...transforming people’s creations into sentient beings so that they can lead others to a honest life? Tell me, ma’am, do you want to breathe life into my disappointing Powerpoint presentations too, so that they might bully me into graduating?

Anyway, if you’re wondering what purpose Gee Willikers (sigh) serves, the answer is NONE. Pinocchio gets rid of him at least twice (good for him) and as easily as drinking a glass of water, he’s a burden to the (admittedly cooler) additional characters, like the aviator bee, and not only is he ugly as fuck, but also so annoying every time he gets a chance to speak that it’s a miracle he wasn’t cut out in post-production.

In short, disgusting. If he entered my home I’d swat him with a flycatcher until he leaves.

3) Pinocchio (2009)

This is essentially Disney’s Jiminy Cricket, but female, anthropomorphic, and with a passion for books instead of pretty ladies or ladies-adjacent objects. Mind you, a sapphic Cricket would perhaps have saved more than one adaptation, this one included, but I’m glad they skipped that part altogether. This miniseries has enough issues as it is.

I’m sorry, she’s just too annoying. Luciana Littizzetto can be funny, but in small doses, otherwise her jokes start to become repetitive. Two hours straight - and yes, it’s that much, because SOMEONE decided to follow Disney’s footsteps a little too well - are too long even for the strongest of hearts. Plus, none of the characters’ costumes are very flattering, accurate or well-made (except for Lampwick 💖), but hers just might take the cake. It looks like a mixture between a teenager’s first attempt at steampunk fashion and a Mardi Gras costume lifted from the discarded items’ bin at a cheap store. Takes you out of the fantasy more than anything else.

4) Roberto Benigni’s Pinocchio (2002)

I’ve talked at length of the weirdness of this movie, but all in all it’s a pretty accurate transposition of the story, from the dialogue to the scenery.

Except for him.

The Cricket in this case does appear in the scenes belonging to him, but ALSO in a long and extremely useless sequence where he tries to find Pinocchio in the Land of Toys and gets kicked around by literally everyone present. Don’t get me wrong, that’s something I would have liked to do as well, but it was totally unnecessary, and it gave nothing to the overall story. This movie still holds the record as the most expensive Italian movie ever made, so wouldn’t it have been better for everybody to  skip that part entirely? Not only it would have saved them some money, but also it would have saved me from seeing this guy for an additional fifteen minutes on my screen.

Still, pretty tame compared to some of the others. Could have been worse.

5) Once Upon A Time (2011)

I debated long and hard before making this choice, and I’m not putting him in with a light heart, but before you come at me with pitchforks, please listen.

I like Archie, okay! He’s a fun character, the human side of his backstory was great and gave him a lot of depth and inner turmoil, and the concept of Jiminy Cricket being a therapist is amazing and hilarious. But he’s kind of a shit therapist, whose actions aren’t always what you’d expect from someone who’s supposed to be a conscience and a guide. And despite the show giving us the impression that he and Pinocchio had the same adventures as in the Disney movie (which doesn’t exactly endear him to me - if it wasn’t for his later character development he’d already be Lil Nas X-ing his way down to the bottom of my list), he and August never interacted on screen after the First Curse broke. Not once. And if there’s someone who needs therapy and support, that’s August Wayne Booth.

Yes, I did say at some point that I’d like to fix this in a fic. I’ll write it when I don’t have like eight projects on my table at the same time.

Finally, two scenes settled the matter for me: one, him pontificating at Snow about her trying to do everything on her own, without even pretending to help her set up the stroller she was struggling with at that very moment. I work with kids every day, I know exactly what she’s going through. Shut your mouth and open the damn stroller, Archie.

And two...That one fucking scene where he’s jumping out of Snow White’s cleavage. Honestly, what the fuck??? I wouldn’t even have remembered it if Libby hadn’t reminded me, so I suppose my brain tried to remove the traumatic memory before it caused any further damage, but it exists, and I’m still wondering why. What exactly was the deal with the writers, when they made that choice? I want a glass of what they were having, because by God, does it sound like a trip-inducing cocktail.

Aaaand we’re done! Remember, this is all part of my personal opinion, and I’m not to be taken seriously even on the best of days. Plus, my favorite cricket-esque character, aside from the book-accurate ones, is Gina from Piccolino no Bouken, who is a duck, a sassy little bastard and no closer to Collodi’s canon than any of these fuckers. So yes, when it comes to choices dictated by the heart, I am an hypocrite. Au revoir!

[some-dr-writings]

Gundham makes a friend out of a socially awkward reader

·       Interacting with other people had always been a problem for you. If your parents could have afforded to send you to a doctor, you likely would have been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder of some sort. That didn’t really matter to you though. You figured out long ago how to deal with the fear and self-consciousness.

·       Keep conversations short, sweet, and to the point.

·       Don’t interact longer than is necessary.

·       Should you mess up, leave immediately and try again in a day, or so, if it’s something necessary, like a doctor’s visit, then after the conversation, put on headphones and blast music.

·       Last and most importantly, should you get overwhelmed, find an animal, any animal and talk to them.

·       Ever since you were little, animals always were able to steady your racing heart or blurred mind. You found them to be the best confidants. They seemed to understand you and what you said, but they never judged you for it. For the few times you were able to afford to have a pet, they seemed to always love you no matter what. And in return for this, you always made sure to treat them right, even spoil them at times.

·       Ideally you’d have a job with plenty of animals around, but a giant part of you was terrified that if people saw you speaking with the animals they’d think you were mentally unstable and call the police then you’d be sent to jail or something where you’d be forced to be in close quarters with other people! You knew it wasn’t likely, but that paranoid-like way of thinking gnawed at you constantly… You were used to it, but it didn’t make dealing with it any easier.

·       Instead you opted for something simple with little contact. A librarian. It was perfect… for the time being. Libraries were getting less and less use with technology advancing so quickly and the rise of e-books. This was only temporary, but at least you were in a good position for the moment. You knew the library you worked at would close down soon, in a year or two at most, it was inevitable.

·       The only thing that kept it afloat was collage students, since for some reason collages had yet to catch up with the rest of the world and required physical textbooks that were at least thirty years outdated. The season always filled you with dread. It was a necessity to keep your place of employment and the rest of the year was just lovely for you, but it never made dealing with the young adults any easier.

·       You stood by the counter as that dauntingly long line of students formed… Damn, it was a long line… and it kept growing… and growing and growing, and growing, and growing, and were they filling the entire room? Did the room become smaller suddenly? Wait, was it shrinking? Why was the room shrinking!? What the hell is happening!? “Excuse me?” “Huh!? Wha- o-oh, sorry, sorry, you must wan tot take out this book for th e semistrere.” Oh no. No, no, no, no, nonononoonononononononononono You messed up, you really messed up! How the hell were you supposed to proceed from here? You can’t, can you? This can-

·       You yelped out feeling a light pressure on your shoulder. You flipped around only to be face to face with you boss. “Hey, Y/N it’s past your break time. I’ll take it from here.” “H-huh?” “Come on, get going now. It’ll be okay.” Hesitantly nodding, you sped-walked away. Once you were out of sight you sprinted for the rear exit.

·       You sprinted to the nearby park and slumped down on a bench. You needed to catch your breath. It wasn’t a long sprint but that combined with your growing panic left you winded. Hugging yourself you tried taking slow deep breaths.

·       You flinched feeling something hop into your lap. You almost leaped up from your seat before seeing what it was just in time. An orange and white hamster. “… H-hello. What are you doing out here?” There were three other hamsters sitting beside you, nudging your leg. “Oh, were you out for a walk together?” Another hamster, a mostly tan and white one with a chip out of it’s ear, also hopped onto of your lap.

·       You spent a moment simply watching them. The first to hop into your lap seemed to be very sweet while the other one seemed to be a bit feisty. The one that kept sleeping was mostly white with tan splotches and the last, a large orange one who seemed to be calm.

·       “You guys seem to be doing alright… I wish I could be like that for a moment. I think my day may get worse. My boss is an amazing person. Whenever I panic with customers, they always tell me how I am fantastic in every other aspect and it’s a weakness that didn’t matter all too much since people didn’t come by often… But this was the first time they actually covered for me. This is the first time they told me to go on break when it won’t be for several more hours. I think this is it, I think they’re going to fire me after this!” The hamsters looked up at you chattering away. “Well, yeah… if they’ve put up with me for this long, I guess it wouldn’t make sense why they’d suddenly stop now.” To your surprise the large orange one climbed up your arm and perched itself on your shoulder, nuzzling into your cheek. “You’re right. That’s the panic speaking. I don’t actually know what’s going to happen, but it should be okay.”

·       With renewed confidence you straightened your posture. “Okay, break time’s over! I need to get back to work! Thank you for talking with me!” After all the hamsters hopped off you got up and dashed back for work, not noticing the figure that watched you leave. “Hmm… What is it you found so intriguing about that one my Devas?” Holding his hands out they immediately climbed on and burrowed into his scarf. “... They exchanged words of the soul with you!?”

·       The next day was just as busy as the last. Your boss handled the counter while you organized materials, getting old musty textbooks out from the back. Before you knew it, it was already break time. Feeling guilty for yesterday you wanted to stay and work a little longer, but your boss practically pushed you out the door telling you to rest.

·       You always went for a walk in the park for your breaks. Not often were there many people around, just some wildlife, like birds. It was nice. Sitting on a bench you looked out at the still lake, at the small islands that dotted it and the bridges that connected them to one another and to shore. It was a cool, cloudy day. A small breeze rolled past kicking up some leaves as it went.

·       Then you felt something nudge your foot before scurrying up your leg. “Huh!? O-oh, it’s you four again. Hello.” All four curled up in your lap. They all looked so soft and cute. “So, you guys like going on walks it seems.” You placed a hand on your lap. When one of the hamsters began nuzzling your hand you gently pet it. “Boss wasn’t mad at me. They were very understanding. I ended up working at the back away from everyone which was a relief.”

·       You noticed how one of the hamsters was sniffing at your pocket. “Oh, you must be smelling the sunflower seeds.” Taking the small pack from your pocket you saw how all the hamsters immediately got excited, entranced by it. Opening the bag, you began to eat. “I always have sunflower seeds during break. It’s convenient to just always carry them in my pocket. Sorry, I would give you some, but I don’t want to overfeed you.”

·       “The four Dark Devas of Desteructio-” You yelped, leaping out of your seat suddenly hearing that booming voice behind yourself. “AH! Hamsters!” Thankfully they clung to your clothes and climbed up to your shoulders. Quickly you cradled them on your arms, against your chest to give them more stable ground. “You guys okay? S-sorry for suddenly jolting up like that. Here, you can have some sunflower seeds as an apology.” After placing them on the bench you gave each one a seed. “… The Devas accept your offering, but you knew so already, didn’t you? You can exchange words with beasts!” The voice was much quieter than before. Only now did you truly notice the man who stood behind the bench. You began to slowly back away. “Ah- sorry! Please don’t think I’m a scary person! I swear I’m not dangerous! You don’t need to call the cops!” The man looked at you with a slightly bewildered expression for a moment before looking down to the hamsters. “You were right, they are a fellow beast speaker, yet it appears a looming shadow obscures their view and confines their true strength.” “… huh?” The man kneeled down beside the hamsters and continued to speak. You noticed how there were other, similar looking hamsters starting to poke out of his scarf. “… Hmm… I see. So, that must be the power with which attracted you.” “… y-you speak to animals too?” “Yes. My four Dark Devas of Destruction told me of you, how you could understand them. Not many have a high enough level to have such a talent. I simply had to meet you.”

·       He seemed to be quite an odd guy to you, from his speech pattern to having so many hamsters on him at one time, but you weren’t one to judge. A part of you was telling you to just run, there was no reason to speak to him, but with the many hamsters around you were compelled to stay. Though slightly shaking you kneeled down beside the man. “The other hamsters are getting jealous. Is it okay if I give them sunflower seeds too?” “Yes, they will most certainly be appeased by this.” As you gave each one a seed the man continued to speak. “Might I ask, when was it you gained the ability to speak with beasts? You don’t appear to be a being in mortal disguise.” “Uh… I don’t know about speaking to them. Well, I talk to them, and I think they understand me, but it’s not like I can directly translate what they’re saying. I just… listen closely to the sounds they make, and the tone behind it. I also look at their body language. Like the little ones in your scarf began to get antsy as you approached the ones on the bench.” “Hmm… I suppose a mortal can’t truly hear creatures that are not of their own species, yet you still understand even if you don’t truly comprehend. Somehow, you’ve become even more intriguing precisely because you are a mere mortal.” “… w-what? Wait, should I have understood that? Oh no. Have I done something wrong!? I-I-I-I-I-I and I just said I over and over again, h, you now gon think I’m danger out nonononon-”

·       The Dark Devas leaped into you lap or onto your shoulders. They either nuzzled into you or lightly nipped at your skin, not enough to break it but enough to feel a sharp pinch. “O-oh, uh, you g-guys want attention. You okay?” You lightly scratched behind their ears and they stopped. “Sorry for worrying you. Heh, heh… at least you can help me calm down.” You sighed, gently petting them. “It seems the curse placed upon you is worse than it appears on the surface. Though the Devas can dispel it.” “O-oh, well… t-talking to animals helps calm me.” “So any beast would do?” “Y-yeah.” A strained smile pulled on your lips as you lightly chuckled. “Even tarantulas and angry geese. Those were… certainly very interesting conversations I had with them.” “Oh, do go on. Such beasts don’t let just anyone near enough to exchange words.”

·       And that was how you met Gundham Tanaka. For the first few times you met you got so absorbed in conversation with him and the Twelve Zodiac Generals you all kept forgetting to introduce yourselves. Every few days or so you’d meet Gundham and the Generals at the park during your breaks. It was so nice talking with him, even when you messed up and began to panic the Generals would be by your side easing your pounding heart. It was lovely.

·       Soon you and Gundham began meeting outside of your break times. Normally you’d go to his place. He was an animal breeder and had beasts of all sorts even exotic ones you weren’t all to sure were legal to have in your area like Capybaras. These visits were always your favorite. Often, you’d find yourself assisting Gundham in his work. It was fun getting to chat away without worry.

·       One day as you were sitting at that familiar bench, you scrolled through your phone. You stopped, feeling a light pressure hop onto you head, shoulders and lap. “Hello.” “Greetings Y/N. Hmm?” He caught a glimpse at what you were searching through. “The halls of shared open secrets is crumbling already?” “No, it’ll still be open for a few months, but not much longer. Boss says they’re saving so I can have a nice severance check. Even so, I thought I’d start searching now. But what other dying businesses are there where I don’t need to interact with people too often… Maybe one with good enough pay so I can meet a therapist finally.” “… Become my disciple, then all your worldly troubles shall be but dead memories.” “… You… You want me to work for you?” “Indeed. No longer shall the demons of this world trouble you so! For you are under the Overlord of Ice’s protection!” “I… You know I still panic at times even with animals around.” “Yes, but I simply take a step back and let you a moment to channel your power through our companions and your curse is lightened.” “… I… I can’t think of any other reason to say no… Thank you, Gundham. You’re a great friend.” “You need not thank me. This is simply the fruits of this friendship. I treat you in kind to the power you entrust in myself.” “… Yeah, you’re my best friend too. Thank you.”

[another-fxcking-rdr-blog]

Can we do an angsty death thing like earlier? But with Charles, Arthur and John? The one with the reader saves their life but at the cost of their own pretty please 🙏

Trigger warnings: Death and blood

--

Charles:

Gif credit: @lysitheavon

"Charles!"

The panic in your voice is evident, as you see one of Colms boys raise his shotgun to Charles' back.

You jump on the guy without hesitation, wrestling him for the gun.

Charles turns just in time to see you stab the man in the neck and in retaliation the man pulling the trigger, the weapon unfortunately pointed at your abdomen.

You both fell on the ground, the O'Driscoll choking on his blood and you curling to your side, your arm holding your stomach where the shotgun blast was fired.

Charles is by your side, all concern for his surroundings gone as he cradles you in his arms.

"You fool!"

He's not angry. He's scared.

He presses a hand on your stomach but it does little to stop the blood.

You laugh weakly.

"You should be more careful~" you smile at him.

His eyes dart around for anything that might help but you hold his arm, steadying him.

You reach up your hand, caressing his cheek.

It seemed for a second like you were going to say something but the words die in your throat and the light fades in your eyes as Charles holds you.

---

• Charles is easier to anger after that.

• He snaps at the other camp members quicker if they push him, Micah especially

• He blames Dutch, partly.

• If Dutch hadn't done a sloppy job of planning, you might still be alive.

• When the O'Driscolls attack Shady Belle, Charles fights with a fury that the rest of the gang hasn't seen.

• The O'Driscolls killed Sadies husband and took you from him and now poor Kieran is gone as well.

• When Dutch comes up with the plan to rob the Saint Denis bank, he wants to argue.

• When he distracts the guards at the docks he thinks of you and your bravery.

• When Arthur and the others return from Guarma, Charles is back to being himself.

• He still mourns you everyday, but he knows you'd want him to heal and though he feels responisble for your death, he slowly learns to remember the happy moments between the two of you.

--

Arthur:

Gif credit: @fyeaharthurmorgan

"Shh-" you raised your hand to quiet Arthur who was in the middle of a story about his younger days in the gang.

He stops immediately and his hand drops to his holster.

You look around your little campsite, the shadows blending together in the darkness of the night, the only sound you hear is the crackling of the campfire. You cant even hear any animals around.

Something is wrong.

You can barely finish that thought when five men, bounty hunters, rush at you and Arthur from the surrounding bushes. You hear shots behind you, but you have no time to look.

Your hand finds your revolver and you point it at the nearest bounty hunter, firing your gun.

The bullet catches him in the jaw and you shoot him again. You move on to your next target who rushes at you and you both fall on the ground with a thud that takes the wind from you.

You manage to catch him in the gut with your knife and you roll him off of you, getting to your feet.

Your eyes fly to Arthur who has his back turned to one of the hunters as he fights with another.

Before you know it your feet are moving and you manage to push Arthur away just before the man fires his rifle.

Arthur turns and shoots the man through his eye and he falls to the ground.

He turns to you, ready to scold you for your reckless move, but the words don't come out when he sees you on the ground, a puddle of blood forming under you.

--

• He takes your body back to camp in silence.

• He insists on burying you himself and carves an eagle on the wood they use for your headstone.

• He takes flowers to your grave everyday from that day forward

• His notebook is filled with drawings of you and apologies of not being fast enough and not being good enough to save you

• He never loses his guard again, blaming himself for your death

• He can barely sleep. Images of you on the ground and the fear that if shuts his eyes for a second too long, someone else in camp might suffer the same fate

• In his final moments he thinks of your smile

--

John:

Gif credit: @prairiemule

Hosea was shot.

You could barely process that Hosea was really gone when you heard voices.

Someone was talking.

You couldn't be sure.

Your ears were ringing and everything was going too fast and too slow at the same time.

Someone grabbed your arm and you locked eyes with John.

He was yelling.

"-ve to get out of here! Are you listening?"

You blinked.

We have to get out of here.

You nodded and he started pulling you towards the big hole in the banks wall. When did that get there?

Something doesn't feel right and you turn just in time to see one of the bastards that were shooting at you.

He grabbed onto Johns shoulder and pulled him back.

You punch him in the face before he can put John onto the ground and feel his nose breaking under your fist.

You push him to the ground and turn to John, telling him to run. It was your fault you two had fallen behind.

You feel a burning hot pain in your side and your ears are ringing again.

Your side is wet with blood but before you can blink the end of a rifle hits you in your temple and your vision goes blurry.

Vaguely you feel yourself getting pushed to the ground and your hand being handcuffed behind your back.

You see John fighting off your attackers before he too gets knocked on the ground.

The rest is a blur of feeling sick and your heartbeat deafening you.

John is talking to you, telling you you'll be alright, that Dutch is gonna be back for you too.

You lean into Johns shoulder in the back of the carriage taking you to Sisika Penitentiary.

You never make it over there.

--

• John puts all his grief and anger into working the fields at Sisika.

• When Arthur and Sadie finally arrive to rescue him, he keeps quiet most of the journey.

• He's furious at Dutch for not coming sooner, though he knows you were beyond saving.

• His heart aches when he tells little Jack that you won't be coming back.

• When he hears Micah talking about you he attacks him without hesitation.

• It takes Charles and Arthur a while to pull him off of him

• "Keep their name out of your god damn mouth!"

• His grief wrecks him but he stays strong for Jack and Abigail, and he knows that you would hate to see him like this.

--

Hey! I hope this was atleast halfway decent and close to what you wanted :D Thank you SO much for requesting this and thank you to the amazing blogs for letting me borrow your gifs!

I hope to grow as a writer and artist and keep posting stuff like this on this blog :)

[rohad93]

Worth the Fight: Chap 3

They decide not to stick around the dark, beast filled, woods after the cockatrice attack and quickly packed up and headed back out on the path toward their destination, it's still pitch black other than the faint light coming from the moon, but Luz's light enchantment lasts the rest of the night until the first rays of dawn begin to streak across the sky, lighting up the seemingly endless stretches of wheat fields. Something Eda silently finds odd. When I spell is cast, how long are powerful it is depended on how much magic the user put into it, but before this moment, Luz had never been able to do any magic no matter how much she tried, so Eda isn't sure how Luz controls it, if at all, and it's just random. She doesn't know what to expect from her apprentice anymore.

Luz was tired, very tired, but she was still riding the remaining high of her very first monster-slaying, retaining just enough energy to keep her eyes open and her feet moving, but only just. It was an effort, but she somehow managed.

She can see the shadows of the city long before they reach it, the sun rising behind it cast long dark shadows across the fields and woods that surround its tall, stone walls.

The closer they get the wider Luz's eyes grow, along with Eda's smirk, as she watched her apprentice out of the corner of her eye.

It was much bigger than any of the other towns they had been to over the years. Its streets’ are paved with cobblestone and packed with people and vendors of all shapes and sizes, selling every kind of good Luz could imagine, and some she couldn't.

She stared in awe at the towering stone buildings all around her as they stopped in the center of the busy market.

“Welcome to the putrid, capital city of The Boiling Isles; Bonesburrough!” Eda held out a hand at everything.

"This is amazing!" Luz bounced excitedly on her toes and she looked around at all the hustle and bustle of the city's inhabitants. Very few people were even giving her, distinctly rounded ears, a second look as they made their way through the crowds, most people moving out of their way as King walked along beside them, looking almost bored at all the people that were quick to jump out of his path. "Are you finally going to tell me why we're here?" Luz looked up her mentor, eyes full of questions.

"Oh, right, I got word that a bunch of prominent and rich noble families need more hands guarding their shipments and things lately since the war seems to be ramping up. It's boring grunt work, but I was told that it pays exceptionally well," Eda explained as they moved through the market.

"Is that where we're going now?" Luz tilted her head questioningly.

"Nope, we're heading for the blacksmiths' first," Eda said, grinning down at her. “It’s time.”

"Time for what?" Luz's eyes narrowed in confusion, making Eda chuckle as she looked down at Luz’s thoughtful expression.

"After what happened last night, I think you're finally ready for your own sword; a real sword." Eda can barely finish the sentence before Luz is making an excited, high-pitched, squealing noise that makes King’s ear pin back flat against his head and Eda wince.

“I finally get my own sword!?” She was practically vibrating with giddy excitement. Eda slapped her hands on her shoulders to still her, the kid was making her tired with all her bouncing. All her exhaustion from last night has vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Yes, Luz. You’re getting your own sword, but you gotta understand that means from this point on you’re gonna have to pull your own weight from here on out, make money and feed yourself, it’s time for you to start the next part of your training; experience. You're going to start taking and completing jobs, you can't buy your own food, you don't eat.” She explained seriously, but still, Luz is beaming from ear to ear at the news and Eda rolled her eyes. They would need to revisit this discussion after Luz had calmed and was actually listening to her. "Come on, Kid." Eda waved a hand, beckoning her apprentice to follow.

They can smell the smithy long before they can see it, though they can see the smoke that billows from the open building even before that. King’s nose wrinkles at the odor.

The forge is billowing red hot flames when they approach and a lone figure in a leather apron, gloves, and plate metal mask is standing over it, running a pole through the fire inside, turning over the blistering hot coals and causing a fresh wave of heat to blast into the air.

"As if it wasn't hot enough around here…," Eda grumbled and wiped at the sweat that had broken out across her brow.

The figure looked up from the flames and shut the heavy metal door on the furnace, sucking some of the heat out of the air. They stepped back and lifted up the metal mask.

A young woman, maybe just a few years older than Luz at the most, is grinning at them, with soot smudged cheeks and dark brown hair tied up in a bun. What immediately catches Luz’s attention is the metal hook pierced through her right earlobe.

“Welcome to Griffin Smithy, what can I do for ya?” she asked, looking between the two of them, her eyes lingered on Luz’s ears for a half a second longer before meeting her eyes,

“Need a sword for the kid,” Eda said, hooking a thumb at Luz who is again, grinning madly with excitement.

‘Well, you came to the right place, come on back and I’ll show ya what we got.” The young woman nodded as she walked into the shop. Luz turned to Eda just in time to catch the bag of jingling silver coins Eda had thrown at her.

“Go on, Luz.” Eda crossed her arms and jerked her head toward the shop. “His majesty and I are going to go get our stay at the Redstone inn figured out, meet us there when you're finished,” she grunted and Luz smiled, nodding as she followed the blacksmith into the shop, tying the bag to her belt.

“Oooh!” Luz’s eyes lit up.

The walls were covered in all manner of weapons, many Luz was familiar with. Swords, maces, pikes and daggers, and some she couldn’t even guess at, like the long wooden shaft with a large circle of metal at the end filled with spikes.

“Neat…,” she hummed to herself as she moved around the room. “Oh!” She spotted something interesting from across the room and trotted over to the wall covered in hanging swords. In front of her was a sword longer than she was tall with a flamberge blade. Her face reflected back at her in the shiny polished metal. She grinned to herself as she wrapped her hands around the hilt and lifted it from its hangers. She grunted, muscles straining at the sudden weight.

She did not expect it to be as heavy as it was and stumbled backward a few steps as the blade tipped back toward her dangerously.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she wobbled precariously, nearly about to drop the blade back on herself, probably cleaving herself in two, before a leather-gloved hand snatched up the blade and gently took it from her hands and hung it back on the wall.

“Maybe something a little smaller?” the young smith chuckled at her and Luz’s face flushed crimson but nodded. “Can I see what you got?” she held out her hands and Luz blinked before realizing she meant her training sword. She pulled it from its sheath and held it out to the other young woman, who hummed as she examined it.

“Training blade, huh?” she handed it back and nodded to herself. “Well if you want something similar, but with more bite, of course, one of these long swords would be good.” she gestured to a few weapons hanging on the wall, the sunlight coming through the shop windows bounced off their polished surfaces in a blinding glare.

Luz hummed, tapping a finger to her chin as she examined the blades before finally pulling one off the wall. Its weight was solid but comfortable in her hands as she gripped the smooth, ebony-colored leather wrapped around the grip. The pommel was a distinctly shaped animal head. A wolf if she’d ever seen one. The silver guard flared out away from the grip in two straight bars, tripped with carefully rounded, curved points; fangs.

She hefted the blade into starting position, elbows raised and blade perpendicular to her face before giving it a few swings and twists, jabbing an imaginary opponent as Eda had taught her. It felt good in her hands, and she tried to remain serious even as excitement was threatening to spill over, but she couldn't keep the grin off her face as she swung it around experimentally before finally lowering back to her waist and running her fingers over the fuller of the blade.

“You know, don’t get many humans around here, even less buying weapons,” the smith finally spoke up after watching Luz’s masterful, and graceful demonstration, a far cry from when she’d nearly dropped the zweihander on herself a few minutes ago.

Luz’s shoulders seemed to hug her neck, as though willing her ears to become invisible. The young blacksmith was quick to notice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, just doesn’t happen much… or ever, really. I’m Viney, by the way.” The blacksmith introduced herself with a grin and Luz felt herself relax at the easy smile.

“Luz Noceda,” Luz returned the introduction.

“New in town? I feel like I would have seen you around before,” she asked. Luz knew what she really meant. If they didn’t get many humans around here, she would be a sure standout in town, not something she was looking forward to.

“Yeah, just got in this morning, we’re looking for work,” Luz explained.

“Well, you came to the right place, Bonesburough is the largest port city in the Boiling Isles and as the farthest south, ever since the war started raging just across the sea, there's never a shortage of need for help carrying or protecting cargo around here with the Emperor’s men constantly coming and going, restocking and all that.” Viney crossed her arms and shrugged.

That sounded like good news for her and Eda. Where there's fighting, there's money. Those were her mentor’s words anyway, it sounded boring though.

“Well I was hoping for something along the lines of monster-slaying,” she admitted.

“Monster slaying? No offense, but you don’t exactly fit the description of most monster hunters I’ve known.”

“Because I’m human?” Luz frowned.

“You’re tiny,” Viney said instead and Luz yelped. She was fairly tall, but she was quite lean and lanky, at least it appeared so when she wore her cloak, but after five years of traveling and training with Eda, she was actually all lean and toned muscle, thank you very much.

“I'm just lean!” she shrugged her cloak off her shoulders, letting it hang from her neck, and flexed both arms, making the much bulkier blacksmith laugh, but she was right, the human wasn’t nearly as stick-like as the cloak and baggy tunic had led her to believe.

“I stand corrected, you gotta admit, when you almost dropped that zweihander on yourself it left room for doubt,” she chuckled.

“I just didn’t expect it to be that top-heavy…,” Luz grumbled as Viney grinned. “I got this fighting a cockatrice!” she proudly pointed to the still very new and raw skin that is definitely going to scar when it heals.

“No kiddin’?” Viney gazed at the painful-looking wound. “Well, if you’re looking for jobs slaying malicious creatures, the locals often hire and the job board in the town square usually has some stuff,” Viney informed her and Luz nodded.

“Thanks very much.”

“So, what do you think about the sword?” Viney tilted her head and motioned to the longsword still gripped in one of Luz’s hands.

“It’s perfectly balanced. How much?” Luz tried not to let how eager she was show, she’d learned the hard way how that often led to merchant’s jacking up the price on her; that and just because she was human.

“Normally, with the extra detailing, I’d ask a little more for that one, but I’ll let it go for a hundred-fifty, a welcome to town discount.” The smith grinned at her and Luz perked.

“Deal” she nodded and they made the exchange before Luz made her way out of the door, waving as Viney called at her back.

“Don’t be a stranger!”

Luz walked proudly through the streets of Bonesburough, with her new blade fit snugly in its black and silver sheath, tied at her hip next to her old training blade. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that yet, but she finally felt like she was making progress. She had finally learned some form of magic and Eda had finally deemed her ready for a real sword.

Now she just needed to meet back up with her mentor.

She glanced around curiously. She had no idea where the inn was.

She sighed to herself, leave it to Eda to leave her alone in a strange new city with no instructions or even a general idea of what direction she should even be going. She really. Needed to learn to ask follow-up questions.

So much of the city looked the same, the general infrastructure anyway. Plain, gray stone walls, and people moving in every direction around her in a symphony of noise; it was disorienting.

She was so busy looking around at everything that she isn’t paying attention when she turns a corner and runs headlong into someone coming out of a shop and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Luz was already apologizing as she scrambled to her feet, she turned to look at whoever she had just bowled over while not paying attention.

A young woman, her pointed ears giving her away as a witch, in a fancy magenta and gold-trimmed dress. She looked to be about her own age, with mint colored hair that hung just above her shoulders in a straight cut, longer sides pulled back in a short tail at the back of her head. Luz blinked, noticing the roots showing at the peak of her forehead, a bright bronzey auburn color. Her face was lean, with the sharp jaw and pointed chin that seem to come standard on most aristocrats.

Everything about her screamed ‘noble’, including the bright gold eyes currently glaring daggers at her from the ground and Luz, blinked at her, wide-eyed, finally realizing she was standing there, staring, like an idiot at a pretty noblewoman she had just barreled into.

"Let me help you." She held her hand out.

“Watch where you’re going, you half-wit!” she snarled, slapping Luz’s extended hand away and hauling herself to her feet.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Luz grimaced as the other woman scowled at her.

“Obviously,” she bit out, dusting herself off and noticing the long rip in the skirt and to Luz, it looked like someone had just told her something terrible by the way her face shifted to dread before quickly switching back to anger. “Look what you did!” she snapped, making Luz flinch back.

“I…” Luz isn’t sure what to say or how she can make this better. If anything her hesitation only seems to make the woman in front of her angrier.

“Just get out of my way…” she shouldered past Luz without a second glance and disappeared into the crowd within a few seconds. Luz frowned as she disappeared.

She was off to a great start today it seems.

She glanced up at the shop the other woman had just come out of and it met with an old painted sign.

‘Park’s Herbs & Tonics’

An apothecary? As good a place as any to get directions she supposed.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside and was immediately hit by a strong medicinal smell that quickly made her stomach churn.

“Ugh…,” she groaned to herself. She knows these smells. She’d been injured enough over the years that they immediately conjure a reaction in her.

“Welcome!” a cheery high-pitched voice greets her and her eyes zero in on a woman about her age, shorter, and a little rounder with short dark hair and dark green eyes behind a large pair of spectacles. “Can I help you with something?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah…” Luz walked closer and the other girl’s eyes widened a fraction, but Luz noticed.

“You’re a human…,” she said with a quiet fascination and Luz tensed. “We never get humans in here…,” she stops and Luz expects something else but she says nothing else about it. ‘What can I help you with?” She smiled and Luz relaxed some.

“Oh, I…,” she starts but is cut off.

“Your cheek right?” the bespectacled girl asked, pointing to her left cheek and Luz blinked.

“My cheek?” Luz reached up and winced as her fingers brushed over the raw acid burn from last night. “I guess I could use something for that, yeah.”

“What happened.” The young apothecary asked, walking forward to better look at Luz’s face, adjusting her glasses.

“Cockatrice acid.” she shrugged and the girl’s eyes widened before she cupped her chin in hand, looking thoughtful.

“I have an elixir I’ve been working on, it should scar that right up, but it’s untested… it could have a negative effect. If you want to volunteer, I’ll give it to you for free,” she offered.

“Hmm… free, but could melt my face off…” Luz hummed thoughtfully.

“Nothing quite so drastic… probably,” The other teen laughed.

“Let’s do it.” Luz nodded and the girl brightened.

“I’ll be right back!” she called as she turned and disappeared into the back. While she was gone Luz wanded around the shop looking at the many glass jars and bottles filled with liquids, dried plants, and fermented things of all kinds, some brightly colored and some like mud or swamp water.

She stared into a jar of murky clear liquid and an eyeball stared back at her from the brine. She leaned down to better look at it and blinked. It blinked back, making her jump and stumble backward, nearly knocking over a shelf full of glassware. She grabbed it before anything could go careening to the floor and sighed in relief.

“Here we are!” The girl returned and walked straight up to her, a jar of bright yellow liquid in one hand and a rag in the other.

“Are you ready… Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even get your name!”

“Luz, Luz Noceda.” she gave a little bow, arm at her waist, and grinning.

“Willow Park,” she returned the greeting. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Luz shrugged and Willow popped the cork on the bottle and Luz wanted to gag at the smell but she held fast as Willow poured some of the elixir on the rag before she gently pressed it to Luz’s cheek, who hissed painfully as it burned her skin, but only for a moment and then the pain faded into a weird tingling in her skin.

The rag was pulled away and Willow looked at it before a smile broke out across her face.

“Did it work?” Luz questioned.

“Have a look!” Willow smiled and started to gesture to the small mirror she had sitting on the counter but Luz pulled her sword from its sheath, making her jump as she angled it to see herself in the polished blade.

“Hey!” Luz grinned. Her raw, painful wound had scarred over near instantly creating a jagged scar that stretched from just left of her nose and across her cheek beneath her left eye nearly all the way back to her ear.

“Does it make me look dangerous?” She turned to Willow, brows raised in question. The apothecary laughed.

“That’s one word for it.” she nodded.

“Thanks, Willow!” Luz beamed and the shorter girl grinned.

“It’s what we do and why you came.”

“Actually… I was hoping to get directions to the RedStone inn,” Luz chuckled sheepishly. “But this is great too,” she assured.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?”

Luz leaves the shop with a healed face and directions for the city’s most popular inn.

It doesn’t take her long to find the inn, nor the room Eda had rented for the three of them. King sat up as soon as she walked into the room, tail thumping loudly on the bed.

“Hey, you’re back, so, what’d you get?” Eda craned her neck around from the bed to try and spy the new sidearm tied to Luz’s waist, which she presented to her mentor with a grin and flourish.

Eda whistled as she inspected the brightly polished blade and expertly molded guard and pommel.

“I take it there's no money left…” Eda frowned, looking up at Luz from her place sitting on the bed.

Luz blinked, confused by that, and pulled the leather sack of coins from her waist.

“There's plenty of money left.” She tossed the bag to Eda who eyed its contents and frowned further.

“Did you steal this?”

“What?!” Luz guffawed, making King’s ear’s perk up and swivel in her direction.

“Look, Kid, I know a good blade when I see one, and this is a four-hundred silver sword, easy, what did you pay for this?”

“One-fifty… Viney said she was giving me a ‘newcomer’ discount…,” she trailed off.

“Who?” Eda blinked.

“The Blacksmith!”

“Oh, the girl…” Eda smirked and Luz frowned at it. “Sounds like you got the ‘blacksmith thought you were good-looking’ discount.” Eda cackled.

“No, she was just nice!” Luz flushed.

“Sure, Kid, I’d never be nice enough to take that much money off a sword…I’m just sayin…” Eda shrugged, laying back on the bed, arms folded behind her head and smirking to herself, eyes closed.

“You’re not nice to most people…,” Luz reminded.

“Ha, got me there!” She peeled one eye open to look at Luz. “Either way, hope you're ready to use it. First thing tomorrow you're gonna head out there and start working if you wanna eat and pay your share of this room that is.”

“Ah, right, I got a tip on some jobs… So… are you done training me… am I on my own?” Luz looked at her frowning as she sat on her bed beside King.

“Essentially…” Eda sat up, face turning serious. “I’ve taught you everything I can technique-wise, outside of magic. You’re going to have to figure that out on your own, but you got that book to help you with that.”

“That’s true.” Luz nodded, fingering the hilt of her sword.

“If this is what you want to do Luz, you need to learn how to work independently, it can be lonely out there at times, so I’m not going anywhere just yet, we just got here and there’s money to be made! When I’m not out working I’ll be around to offer sagely advice, as always.” She grinned and Luz snorted.

Eda gave advice alright, but Luz wasn’t sure she would categorize it as even remotely ‘sagely’.

“So, rest up, Kid. The rest of your life starts tomorrow!” Eda grinned, slapping her back.

“Right!” she flopped back on the bed, with King at her side and her fatigue from that morning came rushing back and before she knew it, she’s out, curled up into a ball with King to keep her warm. Eda rolls her eyes at the two of them but grins all the same.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #367

“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”

Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.