#part of the wish fulfillment of this scenario would (and is) the idea of getting to enjoy food without bodily discomfort

[reticent-fate]

part 11/26ish

anyone remember those scales with the springs in 'em? all i ever see these days are digital scales but those things made the best noises. i think i've seen some kitchen scales that still use spring mechanisms, but it's been a while.

technology is weird.

from the beginning

[anemoiashifts]

why you should stop consuming media if you want to shift.

where your attention goes, is where energy will follow. the more you focus on something, the more real it becomes.

⭑.ᐟ i made a post a while ago saying “why you should get off social media if you want to shift”. id like to expand upon that a little more. so, here’s a “why you should stop consuming media” or at the very least “why you should consume media carefully”.

you are being programmed through everything — social media, music lyrics, television, advertising, the news. this is why meta wants tiktok b@nn3d so badly. its taking away their ability to control & their influence upon you because average people spend more time on tiktok then anything else. this can be extended to news networks because more and more people are using it as news sources. media, not just social, need your attention in order to program you. as someone who has taken classes marketing, the core of what my class was, was teaching someone to be the best manipulator. my professor said to always “play on people’s emotions”. anything that has the ability to take your attention away & live in a negative & distracted stake, is taking away your ability to create the life you want to live. a lot of — if not everything — is about power & controlling you for someones benefit.

taking this into account, you can now begin to understand why television shows are called television programs. it is programming you to think & behave & make purchases. for example, the human mind does not know the difference between real & fake. if something provokes an emotion out of you — that emotion it is still real, even it was brought on by fiction. the human brain cannot truly comprehend fiction. this is why people form such emotional attachments to fictional characters because our brains cannot distinguish that they are a character or a scenario is not real.

power comes from your attention & what you focus on; what emotion it provokes.

₊˚⊹♡ why is this relevant ?

your thoughts & feelings create your reality.

by waking up every morning after a shifting attempt & saying “i didn’t shift, im not in my desired reality” is what you’re affirming to yourself. when you roll over & scroll on your phone, you are taking your attention away from persisting that you are in the wish fulfilled. you aren’t focusing on that you have already shifted. every shifting tiktok video is affirming that you aren’t in your desired reality. it’s reinforcing that idea of “you’ll shift tonight” “who would do this in your desired reality” “___ in my desired reality” — that you are still here. it’s hardly ever said “you’ve already shifted” on tiktok. again, this circles back to “playing on people’s emotions” — desperation & excitement. keeping people in a loop of shifting content instead of actually wanting to experience it for yourself. i will admit, practically everyone is guilty of this — self included. it definitely doesn’t come from a place of malice & i doubt it’s always intentional on anyone’s part but it’s something to consider that every shifting video you come across is a reminder that you haven’t shifted yet.

limit what you consume. for example, if you keep listening to a sad song, you’re going to be sad & pulled back into a time in your life that no longer serves you. it removes you from the present. the brain has no concept of time as it is a man-made idea. by eliminating media entirely (or limiting / being mindful of what is being fed to you & taking nothing at face value), you are getting that power back.

media keeps you distracted. it keeps you focused on other things & not your manifestations. it constantly brings back you into the 3d. the longer you’re focused on the 3d, the further away you will be removed from your manifestations & you will be pulled into things that fuel others desires.

[fairestwriting]

Hello, if you don't mind, I want to request a sceanrio or headcanons (which one you more prefer is fine by me) with Jade insist to take care of his crush after a long day of dishwashing duty in Monstro Lounge despite his crush doubt that he might wanted to get them in his debt and does not realize that he did that because he has a crush on them? Feel free to skip this req if it's makes you uncomfortable though <3 Thank you!

oldie but one that i thought of a bit even when i was on hiatus... scenario format because maybe i want jade to take care of mw after a long workday too. What the hell

word count: 1345

pairing: jade x gn!reader

content warnings: wish fulfillment none:)

You exhale heavily, your shoulders slumping even without you willing them to, as the very last plate is cleaned to perfection, setting it down with all the others...

It's not that you expected a night of dishwashing to be the easiest thing in the world — but luck really wasn't on your side that day, and it turned out it was the third years' last day of exam week.

Which meant, the Lounge would be crowded. Which meant, you'd have a lot of dishes to wash. Which meant, as you just now discovered, your upper back, forearms, and feet would start to actively try to kill you.

At least it's all just over, you think. You pull off your apron and the rubber gloves that did nothing to keep your hands from going wrinkly from exaggerated humidity, then you turn around, ready to report to Azul that your shift was over—

Then, in your tired haze, you bump into something, someone, and it doesn't even register who it is until a firm grip on your upper arm keeps you from embarrassingly stumbling for a good moment.

"J...Jade? What are you doing here?"

He looks at you. His hand is still gripping your arm, though... it's done really softly, especially for an attempt at keeping someone from tripping.

And he smiles softly, politely at you. Like he always does.

"I could perhaps ask you the same question." He says, a lilt to his voice, releasing your arm as you step back into a balanced stance. "It's rather late, you know? Azul was even looking for you."

"Oh, was he?" You cringe at the way it comes out a little more bitter than you'd intended, but... you're tired, and Jade was... strange, but definitely not a tyrant. "Well, I was about to go look for him and say I'm done with the dishes. There was just..." You glance behind yourself, seeing the piles of plates and glasses, the dish soap bubbles that got everywhere. "There was a lot."

Jade's gaze follow yours, and his smile softens, even more when he looks back at you.

"In that case, why don't you let me inform him instead, and I could... get you something to eat in the meantime? You must be hungry."

Alarm bells ring inside your head. The offer is tempting, of course it's tempting, but this is still Octavinelle, and Jade is still Azul's... henchman, or something. You grimace while you try to get your tired brain to think of a response.

"Um... no, thanks, I'd rather not be indebted to—"

"Ah. You're worried about that?" He asks, and the look on his face, while hardly different from his usual poised smile, has a hint of... something different that you couldn't quite place. "In that case, we could arrange a way for you to... give me something in return?"

"Uh..." Again, the alarm bells continue. If they weren't mental, the noise would probably be intense enough to give you a headache— "I don't... think I have anything you'd..."

"Your company, in exchange for any menu item free of charge. How does that sound?"

What.

You blink, genuinely dumbfounded. Jade still smiles. Always does. You're not sure if it's a joke, a part of you says it's a bad idea, but...

"You want my company in return for the favor." You echo to him, and he nods.

"Yes. I'll tell Azul you're done with your work, and fetch you whatever you wish. Then we can get a sit while you eat. Does that work for you?"

"That..." You really wish you could protest, but at the worst moment possible, your own hunger makes itself known. "...okay."

"Lovely. You can wait at the Lounge. What would you like to have?"

You mumble out your usual order, still a bit confused, and he gives you a nod as you part ways. Out of the kitchen, you don't waste too much time in taking one of the seats with cushy chairs, sighing in relief when you feel your body sinking into them just slightly, supporting those overworked limbs.

The Lounge really was empty. You have a few minutes to stare at it, all by yourself — it really must be late — and even dare to bask in the comfy, yet classy lighting of the environment.

It felt so much different like this. No music, no people to serve. It was... relaxing, surprisingly. Even though it was your workplace, and the source of quite a lot of stress in your life...

"The boss is notified. Here's your food." Jade chimes in with a playful tone after what feels like way too little time, setting a plate of your very favorite Mostro Lounge special in front of you. You can't help the way your eyes widen at it a bit, still not fully grasping the situation.

"And Azul is okay with this?" You grab the fork, but look up at Jade first, watching as he takes a seat in front of you.

"Of course. I wouldn't do that otherwise."

He chuckles, and despite your cautiousness, you can't resist the urge to dig into your food. It tastes even better after all that work.

And for some reason, it makes Jade's smile just a touch brighter when he watches you eat.

"It's important to eat well, you know. I hope you've been getting enough meals lately. Exam weeks are never kind."

"Yeah, I... I mean, I'm doing fine. If I want to keep up with all the work, I have to eat."

You take a larger bite, and he continues to watch you. With one more sprinkle of energy in your system, you start to try to understand what got to him all of a sudden. You look through his features, usually so unreadable and static, and you search for... something. Anything.

A sign this was a strange prank, maybe.

"That's good to hear. In any case, though, I'll discuss with Azul to have better planning for evenings like these... Friday nights and such. I wouldn't like to see you so overworked again."

You stop chewing for a split second when you catch on to his wording. I wouldn't like to see you so overworked again. Maybe you're just too tired, and making this all up, but...

What's different in Jade's face now is that there's a hint of sincere softness. One that doesn't even look all that unfamiliar— that you swear had been there when you had brief chats during work hours, even.

Your face flushes. Is he...?

You lift your gaze away from the food, and meet Jade's eyes. He's still smiling, hands folded politely on the table, though it's small enough that when you set your fork down, you swear you feel your hand brush against his glove.

"Thank you... for this, Jade." You mumble out, unsure of what to say. He gives you a smile like he always does, but in this empty, silent Lounge where you're not even sure if you're seeing things right, it makes your heart flutter.

"Thank you for the company. It really was a busy night." He gets up, taking your plate. Only now, you notice you're done eating. "I'll take care of these, don't worry. Just head back to your dorm and rest up. Unless..."

You blink at him again, now unsure of how your brain could even withstand so much confusion. "U...Unless...?"

"...Unless you'd like me to escort you?" He says, and his eyes narrow slyly, glinting— now, wait a minute...

Floyd and Azul were still supposed to be there, weren't they? They always were during closing time. Which meant...

Of course. Of course Jade would only go about something like this as deliberately as possible.

He chuckles. Your face is hot all over and his smile is wide. Skillfully, he carries the plate in one hand as he makes his way to the kitchen.

"Just wait for me if you do. We can make another deal if you want."

And then, he's out of signt, and you're left with a dizzying feeling.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[ro-is-struggling]

The Ballad of Orpheus and Eurydice || Geralt of Rivia x nymph!reader

REQUESTED

Summary: Life was good when Geralt was by her side. They were in love and happy... Until they weren't and she was left alone once again. After spending so much time under his protection, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was for creatures like her. Sad and heartbroken, she was unable to defend herself when the men came for her. Now locked up far away from her forest, she only hoped that her loved protector would come to her rescue.

Warnings: angst (with happy ending), major character death, reader gets imprisoned by a evil dude (I don't know how to tag this lol but I think it’s important to mention that she’s forced to serve him), fluff (it’s not all sad, I promise), forest nymph!reader, fem!reader, let me know if I missed anything!

English is not my first language

Word count: 12.700 (it's a long one)

Notes: A few things to have in mind while reading: It follows the timeline very loosely, and Geralt and Yen's relationship never got to that solid point in s3 cause it's not real love, just the product of Geralt binding their fates together with that wish

She never imagined that her story would end like this, locked in a cold and humid dungeon far away from her forest. Nymphs were not immortal beings —something she had come close to verifying several times in her long years on the continent—, so the idea of her inevitable end was something that she had thought about from time to time. It was not something that haunted her obsessively, but every once in a while her mind would wander to the imagining of the end of her days. 

She lived a quiet life, making sure to be cautious around any unwanted people who passed through her forest. She had no enemies, at least not ones powerful enough to present a real danger to her. So she always imagined that she would die a peaceful death, slowly fading away as her birth tree withered away after having completed its cycle on this earth. If not, she imagined she would die a heroic death as she fought the greedy humans to prevent the destruction of her forest. Both scenarios brought her a sense of comfort in a way, because they showed that she had fulfilled her life's mission, the purpose for which she had been placed on the continent.

She never imagined that the end of her days would actually be so dark and torturous, forced to live in captivity away from her home and everything she loved. She never thought she would miss the feel of the wind on her face, or the warmth of the early morning sun, or the sweet scent of flowers in the spring. She had never imagined herself living anywhere but her forest, but that was an option that had been taken away from her the moment King Elian's men set foot in her home. 

She had heard rumors of his infamous reputation from the mouths of other frightened nymphs. His name inspired terror among magical creatures, who chose to call him The Hunter as if the mere mention of his name was a sign of bad omens. He was known for his obsession with magical creatures and what he did with them after capturing them. Despite what his nickname implied, he did not always chase a magical creature to kill it and display some part of its body as a hunting trophy. No. There was a fate far more horrible and obscure than that, and that was to end up as a piece of his collection, just another exhibit, forced to smile in his presence and perform for his entertainment whenever he wanted it. It was the terrible fate that had unfortunately fallen upon her. 

In the past she had not seen King Elian as a threat. His kingdom was on the other side of the continent and while he used to go on hunting trips when he heard rumors of a creature in his vicinity, he had never ventured this far before. Besides, she was under the protection of one of the continent's fiercest witchers, so she knew no one would dare mess with her. No one who knew Geralt of Rivia would dare to challenge him, and the poor bastards who, out of ignorance or arrogance did, usually didn't live to tell the tale. The bond they had was strong, a love unlike any she had ever experienced in her many years of life, so she never thought there would be a day when she would wake up without him by her side.

"The king requires your presence." A guard announced from her cell door, snapping her out of her thoughts. She rose to her feet reluctantly, stepping up to the bars so he could put the handcuffs on her before unlocking her cell. The dimeritium on her wrists was engraved with the same symbols as the bars of the box in which she spent her days. It was a powerful incantation that weakened her magic so that she could not use her powers to escape. It was painful since the metal burned her skin, but she had learned the hard way not to complain.

The guard led her to the throne room, where the king was shouting directions to the group of servants working on decorating the place, changing the curtains and adding chairs and tables to the sides of the room. She had been there long enough to know that the castle was being prepared for a feast, though she did not know what the celebratory occasion was.

She forced herself to bow when the king's eyes fell upon her figure, though her expression showed how little respect she truly had for him. "Your majesty." She murmured as a learned response as she lowered her gaze to the ground.

"I hope you used your time in the dungeon to reflect on your attitude." His voice was firm, almost as if he was still angry with her for refusing to comply with his demands almost a week ago when he had wanted to use her to entertain the king of the neighboring kingdom who had come to visit. "You have to understand that you belong to me. You are here to serve me and the only reason you are not dead already is that I find you useful. But that can change and it depends entirely on how you behave. Do I make myself clear?"

She clenched her jaw, biting her tongue to avoid causing a scene that would undoubtedly send her straight to the dungeon again. "Yes, my king." She wasn't able to look him in the eye as she spoke as she didn't want to see the satisfaction in his expression. 

"As a demonstration of my great generosity and compassion, I have decided to give you a second chance to prove your loyalty. But do not mistake my mercy for stupidity for this will be your last chance to prove your worth to me. If you say or do anything out of place you will know the sharp blade of my sword."

After she submissively assured him that she understood the seriousness of his words, he explained that he needed her to take care of some of the preparations for the feast in honor of his daughter. During the week the entire kingdom had participated in the celebrations for the girl's fifteenth birthday, an event that would culminate with a grand banquet in the evening. She would be in charge of preparing the floral arrangements that would decorate the entire palace as well as being responsible for the main entertainment since there was nothing to match the singing of a nymph. But in addition, the king put her on a special task. He wanted to give his daughter a beautiful garden with different types of flowers —one for each year of her life—, and she was the perfect person for the job. She accepted without question, not so much because she valued her life or feared reprisals if she refused, but rather because after being locked up for so long she missed being in contact with nature. 

"If it's alright with you, my lord, I would like to start with the garden." She said in the most respectful way possible, explaining that with her powers weakened it was the task that would take the most work.

She was escorted by a group of half a dozen guards, who grabbed her roughly by the arms and dragged her through the castle corridors to the garden. Normally she would have complained about their mistreatment, but it all stopped mattering to her when she felt the gentle breeze hit the skin of her face. It was a wonderful feeling smelling the wet dirt in the air and hearing the birds singing after having spent so much time locked up in the deepest part of the castle. It almost felt like freedom.

Working in the garden awakened a bittersweet feeling in her. On the one hand, it was the most comfortable she had been since she arrived at the castle. Walking barefoot on the grass, feeling the earth between her toes and the flowers growing under her hands was as close to home as she had ever been. It was liberating in a way, putting her powers to good use and connecting with the nature she missed so much. But, on the other hand, it was also a reminder of all that she had lost, the life she would never get back. As much as she loved being outside after so many days locked up, she couldn't help but notice that nothing felt like home. The flowers didn't smell the same, the grass under her feet wasn't as soft, and even the birds didn't sing the same. That wasn't her home. This was not her forest. 

As she buried her hands in the ground, she couldn't help but question what she was doing, and more importantly, why she was doing it. Sure, avoiding further punishment for disobeying the king's orders was a valid motivation, but was it really worth it? Why was she trying to preserve her life when the only future she had was to live locked up there forever? Was dying such a terrible fate when the alternative was imprisonment and slavery? A life away from her home, forced to indulge the whims of a power-hungry monster was no life at all, so why was she there obeying the orders of that disgusting man? 

Then she realized that she still held out hope of escaping. Her spirit wasn't completely crushed and her love for Geralt wasn't entirely gone, so even if it was foolish, she still hoped he would show up to rescue her. They hadn't seen each other for over a year, since that sad day when their story had met an abrupt end after he confessed to her that there was another woman in his life, but she still held out hope of seeing him again. She dreamed of seeing his long white hair move in the air as he skillfully knocked down the guards that separated them and freed her from her confinement. How could she not when he had been her savior on more than one occasion? In fact, that was how they had met.

She was frightened and hurt the first time she saw him, trapped in a cage with symbols carved into the bars. It was a powerful spell that weakened her powers just like the shackles of dimeritium around her wrists. The cage was too small for her, a confined space where she could barely stretch her legs or sit up straight if she wanted to. A group of well-trained men had managed to capture her, taking advantage of her distraction and temporary weakness to lock her up and take her back to their master. She was so terrified that when she heard Geralt's sword clash with that of one of her attackers, she curled up in a corner, her body folding in on itself in an attempt to make herself small and invisible to the group of fighting men. 

She recognized immediately that he was a witcher and that brought her no relief. While his kind generally didn't tend to see nymphs as dangerous monsters —as long as they behaved and didn't do anything to end up on their list, of course— she didn't feel completely safe in the presence of a witcher. She tended to hide on the occasions when one passed through her forest, believing it was best to stay away from people like that just in case. After all, they were monster hunters, a concept that, in her experience, meant something different to each individual and there was no way of knowing for sure if she fell into that category or not. So, even though he had overpowered her captors, she still felt fear when he approached.

Geralt felt that fear as soon as he took a step towards her, it was almost as strong as the power and magic that flowed from her being. Her beauty alone was enough to let him know that she was a nymph of the forest. Behind the earth and blood, hidden in a grimace of terror, were the delicate features that the witcher had only seen in the creatures of her kind that he had encountered in the past. The nymphs had a certain look, a special glow that distinguished them from the rest of the magical beings on the continent. They were also one of the gentlest and most peaceful creatures on the continent, focused only on protecting their homes and turning to violence only as a last defense mechanism. That was why Geralt did not sense a drop of evil in her. And that was also why he set out to free her from her confinement.

Even though her captors lay dead on the ground, she still looked terrified, her eyes glassy with tears and her lower lip trembling as she struggled to hold back a sob. When he approached her, the nymph snuggled further into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest in a protective manner. He raised his hands in the air in an attempt to show her that he was not going to hurt her, walking slowly toward the cage so he could release her. It was then that he noticed the symbols on the bars and the dimeritium shackles, which helped him understand how she had ended up there and why she was so scared. She was in a position of extreme vulnerability without her magic and, despite having saved her, he was a complete stranger who could very well cause her more trouble. So the witcher made an effort to appear friendly and non-threatening.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He told her to try to calm her down, though it wasn't much help. She curled further into the corner of the cage, hugging her legs to her chest and looking up at him with watchful eyes from between her knees.

"I know what you are." She answered him, the fear clear in her voice. "You are a witcher, you kill-"

"Monsters, yes." Geralt spoke for her. "But you are not one of them. You're safe with me." 

At that moment she had no way of knowing what kind of impact those words would have on her life and how genuine they were. She accepted his help because she had no other choice, but time would show her how fortunate she had been to cross paths with Geralt. At first he played hard to get, barely speaking as she nursed his wounds once her powers stabilized. She'd had to resort to using her charms a little to soften that hard exterior of his, but once Geralt began to open up to her, she discovered the man he truly was. 

Geralt tended to lean into rumors about himself and his kind, pretending to be emotionless and not caring about anything or anyone but himself. But that was all an act, a protective shield. In reality he cared. He was capable of feeling emotions as deeply as any other being on the continent. He hated and held grudges, but he also loved and cared for those close to him just as intensely. And once she discovered that, she found it very easy to love him back. 

She was truly safe with him, and in the long years that their love blossomed he did nothing but prove that to her. Geralt was her favorite person in the world. He was her home, her lover, her protector... A love like that was not easily forgotten and no one could blame her for holding out even the slightest hope that he would come for her, that he would somehow sense that she was in danger and rush to her rescue. It had happened in the past, their connection was that strong, so it wasn't an entirely far-fetched idea. It was just... naive of her.

Geralt had been traveling for days. He usually preferred to use alternative paths hidden behind forests or swamps, they were quieter and better for his business. Not many people used them so he didn't run into anyone that would bother him, and it was easy to run into the occasional monster roaming around, so it was a win-win situation for everyone. What he hated, however, was that most of the time it took him twice as long to get to some town where he could rest with minimal comforts and eat a hot meal. 

Had he taken the main road he would probably already be at his destination, drinking in the dark corner of some dingy bar or locked in the room of some cheap inn, and not wandering the forest in search of an animal big enough to satisfy his appetite. He didn't mind being outdoors or having to hunt for his food on the spot —-in fact he was so used to that he almost preferred it—, but this time he was tired and couldn't wait to be anywhere but there. Perhaps that was why when he came across a king and his hunting party he accepted his offer to return to his camp to eat with him without putting up much of a fight. 

Geralt hated royalty and King Elian was no exception. He was arrogant and self-absorbed, just like the vast majority of kings, but there was something else about him that rubbed the witcher the wrong way. He tried to decline his offer at first, but he was unwilling to take no for an answer.

"I'm afraid I will have to insist. My camp is not far from here and my tent is big and warm. I have more than enough food and I would love to hear some of your stories while we eat." The king insisted, pressing Geralt to accept his offer. "My men don't make for good company and I'm bored. I'm sure a witcher like you has been involved in a good share of adventures that make for fascinating stories."

In any other circumstances, Geralt would have found a way to escape from there. The last thing he wanted was to be used as the personal entertainment of an arrogant king. But this time he decided not to resist too much. He attributed it to his tiredness, he had been traveling for a long time and at least it wouldn't be a sacrifice in vain since he could at least get food in exchange for entertaining him for a while. But perhaps there was something more than that playing a role there. Fate itself had crossed their paths for a reason, even though he didn't know it yet.

"It's not as interesting or glorious as one might think." Geralt said with honesty. 

In his experience there were two types of opinions regarding his people and what they did for a living. There were the people who despised them for what they were and believed they were no different than the monsters they killed and there were those who found them fascinating and longed to go on adventures like the ones they often experienced. To him both opinions were bullshit. He wasn't a monster, he didn't kill for pleasure or for fun as many people believed, but neither was he some kind of hero whose life was worthy of being immortalized in songs and poems. He was just a man who did what he knew best to survive, just like all witchers and all beings on the continent. He and his kind did not deserve hatred, but neither did they deserve to be crowned with laurels. They deserved to be left in peace, nothing more, nothing less.

"I have to say I'm grateful for the work you and your kind does." The king continued speaking without acknowledging Geralt's words. It was as if he was not there, his words were of little value to the king when they did not say exactly what he wanted to hear from him. "These creatures are dangerous and can't be left alone to live amongst us. Although some are fascinating creatures if given proper care and purpose."

Geralt looked at the monarch with a frown, unsure of what he meant by that. He said nothing, however, just remained silent for most of their journey to the camp, while trying to get a better read on the man beyond the typical arrogance of all of his kind. There was something about him that he did not like, something that caused a feeling that other kings and nobles did not. It was something more than his simple unpleasant personality, but he could not figure out what it was.

"You should come to my kingdom sometime." King Elian offered as they finally reached what appeared to be the camp where he and his hunting party had set up their base. "I have a collection of creatures I'm sure you would love to see."

The witcher halted his walk, looking at the king with narrowed eyes. "A collection?"

"Oh yes! I have the biggest collection of magical creatures in the whole continent." He admitted as if it was something to be proud of. "I have some pretty rare ones I'm sure you and your people would love to study. You're more than welcome to come over anytime! After all, we are all on the same side."

Geralt did not like the way the king referred to magical creatures and hated that he equated himself with witchers and the work they did. They didn't lock up monsters to brag about their large collection to strangers. They didn't see them as objects that gave them some kind of prestige. They saw them as living creatures, sometimes dangerous, sometimes misunderstood. Witchers did not enslave or kill monsters for fun as he seemed to do and Geralt was disgusted that he would even try to imply such a thing.

However, before he could voice his opinion, the king shoved him into his luxurious tent and the servants set a plate of food in front of him. It was filled with meat and potatoes and vegetables so colorful that they must have been freshly picked. It might have been the hunger talking, but it was the most appetizing food he had tasted in a long time. It was indeed fit for a king and Geralt thought it was definitely worth chatting with his host for a while in exchange for a share, especially after tasting the wine.

"It's good, isn't it?" the king asked him, studying his reaction as he lifted the wine glass to his mouth. "I have someone special that takes care of all the plants in the castle so I only eat the best of the best. It's actually one of my creatures. You can meet her, if you want."

Geralt let go of the piece of meat between his fingers and looked at the king with a frown. There was a subtle change in the air that made him instinctively tense, wondering what his host was up to. The king gave him a small smile before gesturing to one of his men, who left the tent without saying a word. The monarch's menacing aura put the witcher on alert, carefully watching his every move while he ate as if trying to predict what he would do next. His attitude had changed in a matter of seconds. Geralt couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but there was something about the way he looked back at him that put him on edge. It was almost as if he was waiting for something to happen —as if he knew something was going to happen—, the glow of anticipation clear in his eyes. 

He didn't understand his attitude, at least not until the guard returned to the tent. Only he wasn't alone, but was carrying a girl on his arm who was shuffling her bare feet across the ground hesitantly, as if she really didn't want to be there. Her eyes were downcast and her long hair was tangled over her face, so that Geralt could not see her features. Her dress, which seemed to have been a beautiful piece of art at one time, was now dirty and worn, with the fabric torn to shreds on some sides. Her hands were bound together at her wrists, trapped by shackles of dimeritium that marked her condition of slavery. It was a sad sight that became horrifying when Geralt smelled the scent of flowers in the air.

His heart stopped as his nostrils were assaulted with the sweet smell of cherry blossom that he knew and had come to love. The world around him stopped as he was struck with the horrible realization of what was happening. He did not need to see the face of the captured young woman to know it was her. It was enough to feel her energy in the tent as he breathed in her characteristic sweet scent. 

Geralt jumped to his feet, hand gripping his sword as he entered a state of desperation. He wasn't thinking, he couldn't, he had been reduced to his most primitive instincts by seeing her there in that condition. She was weak and injured in a way that Geralt had never seen, her glow and warm, positive energy almost completely extinguished after being tortured for who knows how long. However, when her eyes met his, he noticed a slight glimmer of joy and hope. That only further increased his desire to protect her, the murderous urge growing inside him and urging him to crush anyone who stood between them.

"Let her go!" Geralt demanded firmly, turning his eyes away from his former lover to look the king in the eyes. 

He was furious and desperate, it was evident in his voice and in the hard expression on his face. Anyone would have given in to his demands if he looked at them with those murderous eyes, but King Elian did not flinch. He didn't seem to care that Geralt was pointing his sword at him or that he looked ready to take on an army on his own, he continued to eat as if nothing was happening while the tent filled with guards ready to defend him.

"Please, sit down. You barely touched your food." The monarch spoke in a calm, casual tone. But Geralt did not move, he stood his ground, sword held high and hate-filled eyes fixed on him. "Fate is its a curious thing, don't you agree? This invisible force pushing us to the right path so we might fulfill our destiny, making every little interaction, every little decision, integral... Take this as an example. This morning when I woke up I didn't think that I was going to cross paths with you and yet here we are."

"Let. Her. Go." Geralt interrupted the king's unimportant ramblings, pausing slightly at each word to emphasize his anger. He didn't care what the man had to say, he would slice him through with his sword right there if it weren't for the fact that his sweet nymph was bound and surrounded by guards who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her before he could get to her. "I won't ask again. Next time it will be my sword doing the talking."

"I don't want to fight you, Geralt. If anything, I want to thank you for helping me fulfill my destiny, my purpose of becoming the biggest collector of magical creatures in the continent... You see, if it weren't for you, I could never have captured a forest nymph as powerful as her. I admit that you ruined my plans the first time when you attacked my men, but in the end it was thanks to you that I was able to get my hands on her."

"What are you talking about?" the witcher asked, confused. It could be the adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning out his thoughts —or the fact that his heart was beating so fast that it was pounding in his ears muffling all other sounds—, but the king wasn't making much sense to him. They had never crossed paths before, and if they had, he would never have helped him in something so horrible.

"I could never have caught her while she was under your protection. But when you left... well, let's just say she was withering away little by little, weakening day by day until she got to the point where she couldn't defend herself when my men came for her."

Geralt froze in place as the king's words echoed in his head. It was a lot of information to process and he was in no condition to do so. If he wasn't so devastated he might have reacted to the implication that the king had been watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike after he had saved her from his men the day they had met. But at that moment he could only concentrate on the feelings of guilt and regret that came over him. 

When he left, he never thought about the consequences his decision might have. He never thought about how his departure would affect her or if she would be okay. He knew she would be sad and hurt, just as it hurt him to have to leave her, but he also knew it was the right thing to do. So he focused on moving on, hoping she would too, without stopping to consider the consequences. He thought about her a lot in the time they spent apart —when he lay awake at night, admiring the stars and the nocturnal sounds of the woods; or as he dressed quietly after spending a night with Yennefer—, but in his mind he always pictured her happy. She was strong and had lived many years alone on the continent before their paths crossed, so he was sure that their breakup would not destroy her. He was sure that she would find a way to get back on her feet and that it would be better for the both of them to stay apart. 

Now he realized that was just an excuse. He was being selfish, protecting himself and running away from reality so as not to face it because it hurted him. It hurted to know that he was hurting her. It hurted that he fell in love with another woman behind her back. It hurted to have to leave her after all they had been through together, the love they shared, the moments of vulnerability and intimacy that had brought them together. It hurted because he had failed her, because he couldn't keep his promise to be with her forever. So he completely disappeared from her life, making excuses to justify his behavior and convince himself that he was doing the right thing even though he knew deep down that he wasn't. He ran away like a coward and she ended up paying the price for it.

The witcher's eyes searched the nymph's, hoping to find in them the answers to the questions he had not asked, some indication that the king was not lying. She escaped his gaze, feeling embarrassed and extremely vulnerable. But eventually their gazes met and Geralt knew the mistake he had made. He should have been there for her. He should have helped her when they came for her. He should have searched for her all over the continent once he noticed her disappearance. He should have protected her, just as he always had. He had failed her twice, but he would not let there be a third.

Geralt carried out his threat without hesitation, lashing out at the nearest soldiers in an effort to reach her. The clinking sound of clashing swords and the groans of his opponents were all that echoed in his mind, focusing on his enemy to keep his head cool and ensure victory. They were no threat to him. They were well trained and knew how to move around very well, but he was a witcher with decades of experience and unmatched reflexes and skills. He had defeated them once in the past and he would do it again now without breaking a sweat.

At least that's what he thought before he heard the voice of the young nymph in the distance calling out for him.

“Geralt!” She exclaimed his name for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Her sweet voice traveled through the air, piercing through the sound of metal and the grunts of pain until it reached his ears. She managed to get his attention immediately as he recognized the hint of fear in it. As he buried his sword in his opponent, his eyes snapped up to her, searching for her in the crowd following the sound of her voice. 

When he finally found her, Geralt's heart sank as he discovered the reason for the fear in her voice. The king had his hands around her, holding her tightly against his body. His left hand was wrapped around her torso, restricting her movement, while his right hand wielded a silver dagger against her neck. The metal gleamed in the dim light, revealing the sharp edge that burned the girl's skin. Desperate, Geralt tried to lunge at the monarch, but he stopped him with a click of his tongue.

"One more step and she dies." He assured, firmly. Geralt noticed the honesty in his voice, so he stayed in place and slowly lowered his sword —though he did not drop it—, a desperate attempt to buy time to think of a plan to get out of there with her by his side.

"You don't have to do this." Geralt tried to reason with him even though he knew it was in vain. He didn't see her as more than an object, just another piece in his long collection of creatures, so it was safe to assume he didn't value her life very much. But still, Geralt didn't have much choice so he tried anyway.

"She has been nothing but trouble since the moment she arrived at the castle, isn't that right, darling?" The king grumbled, lowering his head just slightly so he could mutter the last question against the young nymph's ear. "Crying all day, disobeying my orders, upsetting the other creatures... and now your friend over here kills half my men after I feed him and show him my generosity."

"If we present so much trouble to you, why don't you let us go? I'll take her with me and I promise you won't hear from us ever again."

"You are ungrateful brats." The king continued speaking, completely ignoring Geralt's words. "You think you are special, important, and therefore above it all... but you are not. Your actions have consequences and I am the one who decides what they are... You do not deserve my generosity or my mercy."

Geralt didn't have time to think about the hypocrisy in the monarch's words because before he could process them his eyes watched in horror as he slid the blade of the dagger across his beloved's neck. Blood began to gush violently from the wound, the thick, sticky liquid sliding down the young woman's delicate skin, turning everything red. He screamed her name, his sword slipping from his fingers and crashing to the floor with a muffled sound. He ran towards her, completely forgetting the guards he was fighting moments before. He only cared about her.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was moving in slow motion, as if his feet were twice as heavy and dragging them along the ground was more difficult than usual. Everyone around him seemed to slow down, the men around him, the gentle breeze of the wind... everything but her. He watched her collapse to the ground, blood covering her chest as she struggled to keep breathing. But he couldn't reach her. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms one more time, but it was as if an abyss was keeping them apart. It felt as if fate was mocking him, punishing him for his mistakes by allowing him to be there with her, but not letting him do anything to save her. 

He tried to stop the bleeding as he knelt beside her —placing his hands on her neck and feeling the blood gushing from the wound—, but it was too late. She was pale and weak, all the magic in the world could not have saved her at that moment. There were tears in her eyes, in those beautiful green orbs that were fading with each passing second. She was scared, Geralt could see it in her expression. She didn't want to go, but she knew there was nothing else to do now.

"I'm here, I'm here." Geralt whispered in the calmest, most comforting tone he was capable of uttering at that moment. He swallowed his anger and pain, holding back tears so he could give her some peace. He cradled her face in his hands, fingers caressing the skin of her cheeks delicately as if he were afraid of breaking it. "It's going to be okay... you're going to be okay. I will fix this."

She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but instead of sound only blood came out. Geralt caressed her gently, feeling the tears rolling down her cheeks. She clutched her hand around his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. She was begging him to understand her, to read in her eyes her thoughts as he had done so many times in the past. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand her, although in hindsight it should have been obvious to him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, to assure him that none of it was his fault and that no matter what had happened between them, he would own her heart forever. 

"I love you. I always will."

Geralt saw the reassurance in her face as the warmth of love enveloped her in her last moments. She gave him the faintest of smiles, an almost invisible sign of the peace his words had brought her. And then her grip on his arm weakened, her hand dropping to the floor as life left her body. Suddenly, that subtle smile, now permanently carved into her expression, was all he had left of her, of her life and the love they shared. 

Geralt did not fight when the soldiers dragged him and tied him to a tree to leave him there to die while they escaped, he did not have the strength to do so. He was numb to the world around him, consumed by grief. The sound of the king and his men preparing to leave sounded muffled and distant, as if they were far away from him. And in a way they were, for his mind was not one with his body, but far away. He was focused on the slowly withering body of his beloved, on the fear as she called his name and the terror in her eyes as the edge of the dagger sealed her fate. He could only think of her and all the time they had lost and could never get back, feeling the guilt slowly consuming him as her body transformed into a pile of pink petals.

Geralt admired her face in the dim glow of the candlelight, thinking about how beautiful she looked tangled in the sheets beside him. Her hair spread across the pillow like a halo around her head and her smooth skin was covered with a light layer of sweat that gave her an almost ethereal glow. It felt like an illusion, a trick of his mind. He found it hard to believe he had someone like her lying next to him, looking at him with love in her eyes. 

It wasn't just her beauty. No. It was the peace her mere presence awakened in him and the void he felt in his chest when they were apart. It was the way he dreamed of her and her caresses every night he went to bed alone and how his longing disappeared when he felt her warmth against him as their bodies melted into one. It was the way her kisses made him feel like he was home, safe and away from the complications of the world outside the little paradise that was her forest. It was much more than physical attraction, more than the effects of her nymph charm, as he had initially thought. It was love. Pure, honest love, like he had never felt before. He was in love with her, and while he hadn't put it into words yet, he wasn't afraid to admit it.

Her fingers aroused a warm tingle as they caressed his cheek. Geralt leaned into it, closing his eyes for a second to appreciate the magic of the moment. It was amazing how such a subtle act, such a light touch, was able bring out so many emotions in him. It was something only she could do, a clear demonstration of how deep his feelings for her were.

However, when Geralt opened his eyes again, he didn't find the special glow he usually saw in them at intimate moments like this. She was looking straight at him, but it was as if she was looking right through him, as if her mind was lost in her thoughts. Something was bothering her, that much was clear in the green tint of her eyes. Her mouth would open slightly, almost in an imperceptible movement, only to close seconds later, as if there was something she wanted to tell him but couldn't quite bring herself to say. So he decided to ask her about it. 

"What's wrong?" Geralt voice was low and raspy with sleep, looking at her with a slight frown in confusion. There was a moment of silence before she answered. Her eyes never left his, but her hand slowly slid from his cheek to rest on his bare chest.

"I'm afraid of losing you." She eventually said, her voice almost a whisper. "You travel across the continent, meet all kinds of people... I'm afraid one day you will get bored of me... find someone better and leave me forever."

Geralt could not believe his ears. It was ridiculous to him that she could have such a fear of abandonment when he felt the way he did. If only she knew how happy being with her made him... If only he could somehow transfer his emotions to her so that she could feel his heart race when they kissed, or experience the peace that filled him inside every night when he lay down next to her... If only she knew, she wouldn't be having those kinds of thoughts. So, he took her hand in his and pressed it against the left side of his chest, right over where his heart was beating with love for her. She needed to know that she was the only one who had a permanent place there. She was the only one he loved and he doubted that would ever change.

"Believe me when I tell you that there is no force on this continent that can keep me away from you." He spoke in a soft voice and watched as her eyes lit up full of illusion. "I love you, forever and always."

He sealed his promise with a kiss, showing her with his lips how serious he was about it. He loved her and there was nothing he wanted to do more than to be with her for the rest of his life, sharing intimate moments like this one and protecting her from any evil that might come her way. He felt complete with her and could not imagine how miserable his life would be without her by his side.

Geralt allowed himself to get lost in the passion of the moment, fingers tracing trails over his beloved's bare skin as he melted into the kiss. It was different this time, more intimate and charged with all the emotions that were left unsaid —it was their special way of communicating, one kiss and they knew what was going through each other's minds. The comforting warmth of love filled his heart, leaving him in a state of total bliss as she whispered sweet nothings against his lips. He was happy in a way he could not remember ever being before, in a way he knew he could only be with her. 

But suddenly that comforting warmth that flooded his insides was replaced by a paralyzing cold, an emptiness that pressed against his chest and took his breath away. Geralt could no longer feel his beloved's lips against his. He could no longer smell the flowery scent her soft skin radiated or feel the warmth of her body. He was trapped in a black void, in emptiness itself, all alone. And in the distance he could hear his name being called.

Geralt

Geralt

Geralt

It was a cry for help, the voice of terror of someone who had been confronted with their own mortality. The voice trembled with fear, certain of the fatal fate that awaited them. Geralt could not escape its shrieks, no matter how hard he tried. It was his own personal hell, a void where he was forced to confront his pain, his guilt, and to listen again and again to his beloved's voice filled with terror as she spoke his name for the last time.

Geralt woke up tangled in the sheets, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and breathing fast due to his nightmare. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling as he tried to pull himself together. His beloved's voice was still ringing in his ears, only that with every waking second it became more and more distant until it became an almost unintelligible whisper. Anguish and guilt weighed heavy on his chest, but he was used to that by now. The emptiness inside him had accompanied him every moment of his life since that unfortunate day. He could not escape the pain and regret he felt, it haunted him even when he closed his eyes at night. He could not even enjoy the peaceful ignorance in the mornings, when one's mind is too sleepy to process life's tragedies, because his nightmares would remind him of every painful detail of that day so that he could not rest.

At a time like this, when life had become so overwhelming that he was unable to sleep, he usually reached out to her. With her gentle touch and sweet voice she was always able to calm his tormented self, wash away the anger and frustration and replace it with love and calmness. But now she was gone and he didn't know how to go on. He missed her more than he thought it was possible to miss anyone. He missed the melodious sound of her laughter and the light in her eyes when she was happy. He missed waking up next to her in the mornings, feeling the warmth of her body enveloping him as she whispered good morning to him, her voice hoarse from sleep. He wished he could once again feel the soft caress of her lips on his and hear her say she loved him one more time. 

There was nothing Geralt wasn't willing to do to have her back with him, to be able to tell her how much he loved her and how he regretted leaving her. He had been an idiot to have given in to his desires for Yennefer. He should never have gotten involved with her, he should have let her own greed and obsession destroy her that day. He should have saved Jaskier and moved on with his life, after all Yennefer's problems were of no concern to him. But he could not resist his need to intervene, acting like a knight in shining armor instead of what he really was: a witcher. He made an impulsive decision, binding their destinies with magic and unknowingly triggering the death of his beloved. For if only he had been with her, if only he had stayed by her side to protect her as he had promised, he was sure things would be very different. She would still be alive and he would not be so miserable.

But Geralt was determined to make things right. He refused to let her die because of his mistakes. And looking at the cherry blossom tree growing outside his window, he knew the time was getting closer.

"I will fix this." He spoke to the tree, stroking the trunk with his hand as he sucked in a long breath of air. It smelled like her, a sweet scent mixed with the aroma of wood and wet earth. It ached and comforted him in equal amounts. "I will bring you back to me and I will keep my promise to you this time."

Geralt knew she was gone, but her essence was still alive in that tree. Born from the pink petals in which her body had withered when she died, it grew stronger with each day, keeping a fragment of her alive. Of course it was not her, but for now he was happy to make promises to the wind that its branches generated, clinging to the sweet scent of its flowers as the only sign that his words were well received by her. It was all he had, all he had left of her, and for now that was enough. He still wasn't sure how he would fulfill his promises or even where to begin. But he was sure of one thing, and that was that his love for her was stronger than fate itself and there was no force on the continent that could stop him from keeping his promise this time.

The solution to his dilemma presented itself almost by accident. And it came from the place Geralt least expected. He had spent the last few months visiting every library he had access to, reading every book and consulting with every expert he knew in his desperate search to find a way to bring his beloved back to life. But in the end, it was Jaskier who presented him with a solution in the form of a song. 

They were traveling on a back road after a successful job. The bard had offered to accompany him under the excuse that he needed new inspirations, but Geralt knew he was doing it because he didn't want to leave him alone. Jaskier knew the pain he felt and being the good friend he was he wanted to accompany him in mourning. Geralt appreciated him even if he didn't have the strength to say it in words. His light-hearted comments and meaningless ramblings were exactly what he needed to distract his tormented mind. Even his spontaneous singing at the worst possible moment cheered him up instead of irritating him as usual. Anything to help him concentrate on something else was welcomed.

They had been walking for hours, hoping to reach the next town before dark and sleep in a comfortable bed in a warm room and not in the middle of the forest again. They were quiet, only the chirping of birds and the sound of leaves crunching under their feet echoed in the air. They had run out of things to talk about an hour ago and Jaskier was starting to get bored. So he did what he always did when he found himself in that situation, sing. Only this time Geralt didn't recognize the verses as one of his own original songs. It was one he had not heard him sing before, so he paid attention.

It told the story of a young man that had managed to win the heart of a forest nymph with his beautiful singing. The connection they shared was so strong that they married shortly after meeting, in the same place where they first saw each other. Happiness and love filled their days for a few long and joyful months. That was until fate, jealous and bitter, stood in the way of their happiness. So, one morning, after being bitten by a snake, the young nymph died. Her beloved fell into a state of despair when he heard the tragic news. Unable to accept that his wife had been taken from his life without warning, he descended into the depths of the underworld to plead for her soul. The song narrated the difficulties of his journey and the perseverance with which he had faced each difficulty until he reached the lord of the underworld himself, to whom he tearfully begged for the return of his wife. The emotion in his words was such that he managed to move Hades, who gave in to his prayers. Although he imposed a condition: that he would not turn around to see his wife's soul following his steps until he left the underworld.

The story did not end well since the young man had been too eager and had turned to see his beloved before she was completely above ground. But Geralt didn't care about that somber detail. His attention was focused on the young man and his journey to the underworld, not only because he felt somehow connected to the emotions of sadness and despair he felt, but also because he was fairly certain he could recreate his heroic efforts.

"Are you crazy?" was Jaskier's reaction to hearing Geralt's idea, his voice raised in a tone of surprise and concern. "Haven't you heard the end of the song? Things go wrong! He doesn't get his wife back!"

“I know, but I don’t care.”

“Geralt, the story it’s just a myth… a tragic love story that one could say is a cautionary tale! You’re not supposed to follow in his footsteps, you’re supposed to learn to live with the grief, process your emotions and eventually move on… Look, I know this is hard for you. I miss her too… What happened to her wasn’t fair, but it wasn't your fault either. Blindly following the words of a myth is not going to change anything.”

“But it’s not a myth, not all of it at least.” Geralt recognized that the love story of the young man and the forest nymph might be an invention, but he knew of the existence of a door to the underworld. It was hidden and required great power and extensive knowledge of magic to be opened, but it was real. And fortunately for him, he knew one of the most powerful and skilled mages on the continent. Though convincing her to help him would not be an easy task given how things had ended between them.

"Why should I help you?" Yennefer said with annoyance in her voice when he showed up unannounced to ask for her help. It was clear that she did not enjoy the witcher's surprise visit and was not shy about showing it. "And more importantly, why are you asking for my help with something like this? I thought you of all people would know how dangerous opening the doors of the underworld is."

"Why do you care?" Geralt answered her with another question. To be honest, he didn't think the difficulties in getting her help would come from a moral issue. Yennefer was not the type of mage who cared too much about such things. "Are you in this or not?"

"That depends... what's in it for me? I hope you know I'm not going to waste my energy in helping you out of the goodness of my heart, not after all the shit you did." Geralt smiled at her remark, surprised that it had taken her so long to once again blurt out her complaints about him saving her life. She was still angry at him for linking their destinies with the wish to the Djinn and at this point he doubted she would ever get over it. 

"You get the once in a lifetime chance to traverse the underworld and possibly get knowledge beyond anyone's comprehension." He simply stated.

Yennefer was silent for a moment, watching Geralt intently, violet eyes piercing his yellow orbs. It alerted him to strengthen his mental shield to keep her from entering his thoughts. 

"When you live as long as I have, once in a lifetime opportunities start losing power and meaning."

"I'm offering you an opportunity to explore the unexplored and that's your answer? This could have all the answers you've spent years looking for and you're not interested?"

"Oh I'm interested, I just can't understand why Geralt of Rivia, the mighty witcher who prides in his indifference and ability to not intervene, would be interested in opening the gates to the underworld?"

"I have my reasons and they are not of your concern. Are you going to help me or not?"

Yennfer was silent for a moment, considering her options. And then, she smiled at him, and he knew he could count on her help.

Preparing for such an adventure was difficult. It was the first time in his life that Geralt did not know what to expect. He had no idea what he was going to encounter once they crossed the gates to the world of the dead. He didn't know what kind of obstacles he would encounter on the journey or if he would even accomplish his task. But he had to try. Even if it was the last thing he did, he owed it to her. 

It was difficult to prepare for the uncertain, so he tried to imagine all possible scenarios and prepare accordingly. He tried to be as meticulous as possible, but he knew it was impossible to stay on top of everything. What he never imagined, however, was that trouble would come from Yennefer's end. He always saw her as such a powerful and determined individual that he did not take into consideration that her energy could wear out and her magic could be consumed. Geralt had no way of really knowing how demanding the spell to open the gates of the underworld would be. He knew it was not something that just anyone could do, but he thought Yennefer could handle it without much trouble. He had never seen magic like hers. And what she lacked in skill, she made up for in stubbornness, so he thought that with her by his side things would not be so difficult.

However, the moment they took a step into the world of the dead, Yennefer fell weakly into the witcher's arms. She muttered something about having spent her energy and how the nature of the place did not allow her to pull herself together. Geralt suggested that she stay outside, after all, this wasn't her fight and she didn't have to risk so much for him. And at that instant, as if the walls were listening to them, the doors closed, leaving only one possible path.

The place was cold and dark, like a cave hidden deep in a mountain. There was not so much as a ray of sunlight, the little light that illuminated their way came from torches distributed along the stone walls. The air was heavy, stale, and it was hard to breathe. It was clear that this was no place for the living, but Geralt continued on his way despite the difficulties. He took Yennefer by the waist, letting her wrap one arm around his shoulders so she could walk, and followed the straight path that the torches seemed to indicate. At the end of the tunnel he came to a large river, and on the shore rested a boat. Inside it stood a hooded figure, long black robes covered its entire body in a way that Geralt could not see its face when it turned to look at them, only a void lost inside the hood.

"He's been waiting for you." The figure spoke, stepping aside so they could board the boat. Geralt hesitated, thinking back to all the catastrophic scenarios he had imagined in preparation for this moment. Surely that had to be a trap, things couldn't be that simple, could they?

"He wants to speak to you, Geralt of Rivia." The figure spoke again as it noticed the hesitation in the witcher's attitude. "He sent me to find you and ensure your safe passage through these waters." He did not trust it, but Yennefer pushed him into the boat with what little strength she had, so he had no other choice.

The dark figure did not utter another word. It went about its task in complete silence, paddling in the waters of oblivion until it brought them close to shore. It did not help them down once they reached their destination, nor did it open its mouth to give them directions. Just pointed a long, skeletal finger toward the horizon and set off the same way it had come. 

A dark, dead forest loomed before them. Long, thin tree trunks, nearly leafless branches and shabby bushes decorated the path. Everything seemed to be in shades of black and gray, though that was probably due to the lack of sun. In the distance a structure could be seen, a castle whose colors matched the rest of the landscape. Although the neat and polished appearance of its exterior contrasted with the disheveled and dead environment around it. It was clear that that was where they should go, so Geralt took Yennefer in his arms once more and set off on his way. 

There was not much distance separating them from the castle, but the witcher felt as if he had spent an eternity walking. And yet, at the same time, when he reached the large wooden gates, he was amazed to have reached his destination so quickly.  His perception of time was totally altered, affected by the atmosphere of the place.  Time did not flow there in the same way as it did on the surface. It was as if it was both stopped and accelerated all at once, as if each step took hours and at the same time a couple of seconds. It was more than the absence of sunlight confusing his perception. It was the way things worked in that place, a world separate from the one lying on the surface that he was not supposed to access.

The man who appeared in front of them when the doors opened on their own was imposing, but far less frightening than Geralt expected. It was enough to look into his eyes to know that he was the person in charge of the place. Power shone in his eyes in the same way the witcher had seen it in the kings in the world of the living. And yet, there was something unique about them, something that made it clear that he was no mere mortal. Geralt knew better than to challenge him, though he wasn't sure his emotions would allow him to be cautious if things didn't go as he hoped.

"I've been waiting for you, witcher." the god said in a loud, clear voice. "I'm surprised it took you this long to find me."

Geralt was not pleased to learn that he had been waiting for him. He had imagined it might be a possibility, but he thought the god would use that knowledge to stop him. The fact that he welcomed him without trials or difficulties, sending his people to look for him and opening the doors of his home to him without hesitation, made him suspicious.  For all he knew, it could all be a trap.

"Oh don't flatter yourself, witcher! I have far more important things to do than to set you up." The god spoke as if reading his thoughts. 

"You knew I was coming?" Geralt managed to say and the god nodded.

"And most importantly, I know why you are here. I knew you were going to find your way here the second she came in."

The mere mention of his beloved in the conversation had Geralt's heart racing, a gesture of both love and anxiety. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him, watching him with furrowed brows as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She knew of his former lover, the forest nymph he had abandoned after their destinies were linked, and he had no doubt that she would understand what was happening in just a second, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to have her back.

"So, I'm assuming you know why I'm here."

"I do, yes. And I will not be opposing to your wishes, Geralt of Rivia. I knew from the first moment that this was not her time and I am willing to give her another chance to live out her destiny without surprise interruptions from magic... However, I do have one condition."

"And you say it was not a trap..."

"It is not! It is just a simple... exchange."

"An exchange of what?"

The god paused, taking his moment to answer.

"Souls are complex things, Geralt. Very powerful, very strong... I can't just let one walk out of here."

"Why not? You have plenty here."

"It's a matter of balance, I don't expect you to understand that. But, if you want your dear nymph back, you'll have to give me a soul in return."

Geralt was silent for a moment, carefully analyzing his situation. After all the work it had taken him to get there, he didn't plan to leave empty-handed. But he also didn't want to condemn an innocent soul who had nothing to do with his mistakes. So he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Fine," the witcher agreed. "Take me then. My soul for hers, it's only fair."

Yennefer tugged on his arm, ready to argue with him —thinking he was acting like an idiot by offering his life as if it was nothing—, but was interrupted before she could open her mouth by the laughter of the god in front of them.

"It's a nice gesture, but your soul isn't nearly powerful enough. It's better than an ordinary human’s soul, I'll give you that, but she's a nymph. Do you have any idea how much energy her soul contains?"

"Then name your price." Geralt said. He wasn't necessarily going to give in to his demands, but he figured it didn't hurt to learn what the god's wishes were.

"To be honest, I don't think you can get a soul of such power... however, you do have access to one that is quite close." Geralt didn't like the suggestive tone in the god's voice. And he liked it even less when his eyes fell on Yennefer as he finished the sentence.

"No!" The witcher declared as he understood the intentions behind those words. He had brought Yennefer with him to help him open the portal and nothing else. He refused to sacrifice one more life. No one else had to suffer because of his stupid decisions.

"She wouldn't suffer." The god spoke after glancing at Geralt's thoughts. "She doesn't even have to be dead, she just has to stay here with me."

"I don’t care. We're not doing this."

"Why don't you let her decide?" The god said, resting his eyes on Yennefer's violet ones. "It is a good deal. You get your lover back and she gets-"

"She gets imprisoned here forever." Geralt interrupted and the god looked at him wearily.

"She gets to be the most powerful madge in history, sitting by my side ruling the underworld... isn't that what you always wanted, Yennefer of Vengerberg, to have power beyond imaginable? What's more powerful than deciding between life and death?"

Geralt snorted at such words, finding the god's tricks very ineffective. But when he looked back at Yennefer, she had a look in her eyes that made him doubt. "You're not seriously considering his proposal, aren't you?" he approached her, speaking in a lower tone of voice so as not to be heard by the god.

"If we leave now then we traveled this far for nothing. Don't you want to get her back?"

"No if it means hurting innocent people. You have nothing to do with this."

"Except I do since the moment you made that srupid wish."

"I didn't save your life then just to leave you here now."

"You're not leaving me, I'm choosing to stay."

"You don't have to do this, Yennefer." Geralt's voice became softer. She seemed quite sure of her decision and he knew it would not be easy to persuade her otherwise, but he had to try. He didn't like the idea of leaving her behind, of sacrificing her in favor of his own happiness. 

"Oh, please! I'm not doing this just for you. I usually don't like to waste my time and energy just to end up empty handed. I came here because, as you said, it was an opportunity to find the answers I've been looking for. So why don't you worry about you and let me worry about myself?"

Yennefer rolled her eyes. And while she wasn't lying and really had interests of her own in that place, Geralt really was a big part of the reason she wanted to accept the god's offer. There was something in his eyes, the sparkle of true love, that shone every time he thought of his departed lover. It was something she had never noticed in his eyes when he looked at her. It was clear that what they had was real, it softened her hardened and withering heart, and gave her hope that love was real. Though of course, she would never admit that to Geralt. 

The witcher growled under his breath, clenching his jaw. Even though part of him didn't like the idea of leaving Yennefer behind, he couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved to hear those words. If she wanted to stay there for her own selfish reasons, then accepting the god's proposal was much easier on his conscience. 

"Are you sure about this?" He asked her once more, giving her one last chance to back out. 

Yennefer shrugged. "I lived a long time among the living, had my good share of adventures... maybe it's time to try my luck in the underworld. "

That answer was good enough for Geralt. He accepted the god's proposal, exchanging Yennefer's soul for that of his beloved nymph. She would stay in the underworld with him and in return Geralt would get a second chance with his lover. The god instructed him to return home and assured him that when he arrived, her soul would already be back in her birth tree.

As he made his way back, the thought that the god was tricking him crossed his mind. He realized that he really had nothing to assure him that he would keep his word. For all he knew, this could have been a strange move by the god to get to Yennefer and her powers for some reason he did not know. Perhaps he was being used as a pawn in a larger chess game that he did not know he was part of. Perhaps he had unleashed a terrible evil upon the continent without realizing it.

But then he felt it. 

The sweet scent of flowers assaulted his nostrils the moment he set foot in the forest. It was strong, much stronger than it had been in a long time. He noticed then that everything looked greener and more alive, every flower, bush and plant glowing in the warm sunlight in a way that they didn't when he left. Even the birds seemed to sing louder and more cheerfully. 

Geralt ran to the cherry blossom tree he had been tending for what had felt like an eternity. His heart was racing with every step he took, not from the physical effort, but from the anticipation. The hope of seeing her again was what had kept him sane since that horrible day he had lost her. All this time he had thought it was impossible, an illusion that only served to keep him on his feet until the pain subsided. But now it was a reality, and he had so many emotions swirling inside him that he didn't know exactly what to feel.

Suddenly, his eyes came upon a figure on the horizon. It was partially blocked by the rays of sunlight that kept him from seeing clearly, so he picked up his pace to get closer. Little by little the figure revealed itself in front of him, until it became clear to him that the one who was walking around the forest, picking flowers and petting the animals, was her. 

She looked as beautiful as he remembered her, with her long hair blowing in the wind and a sweet smile on her face. It was as if time had never passed, as if that horrible day and the pain that her death had unleashed had been just a bad dream. It was as if he had never lost her.

Geralt stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell on hers, paralyzed by the emotions coursing through him. All this time he had dreamed of this moment and now that he had her only a few feet away he didn't know how to react. His eyes blurred with tears, but he caught a glimpse of his beloved's figure running to him before he felt the warmth of her body in his arms. He held her tighter than he ever had, pulling her against his chest as a way of both making sure she was real and that she couldn't pull away from him.

"You came for me." She muttered, melting into the embrace. Her memory was somewhat fuzzy, but she remembered clearly the moment when the blade of the dagger had caressed her neck. She remembered how it had felt and the horror in Geralt's eyes as she fell into his arms, taking her last breaths. She remembered his words of comfort and his promise to make things right, as if he actually could. She still didn't understand how she was back there, but she knew it was Geralt she had to thank for her second chance at life. Somehow, he had found a way to bring her back, she was sure of that.

"I'll always come back for you." 

The kiss they shared was unlike any other. It was passionate and desperate, yet soft and tender. It was charged with all the emotions that had been left unsaid between them, sadness, regret, longing, but, above all, love. They felt that spark the moment their lips brushed, just like in the old days. Geralt hadn't realized how much he had missed feeling her soft lips on his until that moment. He allowed himself to get lost in the joy he felt, letting the warmth of her body against his slowly remove the traces of sadness and pain that had haunted him all this time.

They remained in each other's arms for a long time, enjoying the moment they had both been longing for so long. It was just him, her and the chirping of birds in the trees. Breathing in the floral scent of her hair, Geralt knew that the gray days were behind him. Gone were the guilt and the pain, the sleepless nights and the cold mornings without his beloved. She was back by his side, just as she always should have been. And he was more than happy for the new beginning he had with her. A new chance to make things right, to honor his word and keep his promise, just as he should have done from the beginning. He was ashamed that he had had to lose her to realize how big his mistake had been, but now that he had her back he wasn't going to let her go. His love had proven to be stronger than everything, even death itself.

[nynyhaha]

Spider Themes: Phantom Troupe and fate (plus Chrollo character song analysis)

THIS is the moment that lead tons of fans to believe that Chrollo is a determinist,or at least a fatalist,believing that certain things cannot be avoided and that people lack the free will to act otherwise.

I haven’t seen any other proof of Chrollo being a determinist and I think it’s not that relevant to his character so this idea being so popular annoys me,and yet,there are lots of time where Chrollo is confronted with the idea of fate.

Why doesn’t he blame Judas?

There are multiple ideas

-his betrayal was bound to happen and he had no free will

-regardless of will,his actions were justified because it resulted in the greater goal being achieved(and Chrollo sees Jesus’ death as as important as his own death in a scenario where the Spiders have to chose.Chrollo would want them to sacrifice him for the Spider,and this scene hints at that)

-anyone willing to betray the organisation for money or fame was never a true member

-Chrollo doesn’t take anything personally and he doesn’t judge other people for their actions because he expects very little of them (we know this isn’t true for his Spiders,but it seems to be that way with Hisoka. He doesn’t blame Hisoka for being what he is)

This point is also illustrated in the flashback chapters where young Chrollo doesn’t get angry at his bullies even once. He’s not mad at Uvo,Phinks or Feitan,he outsmarts them or outruns them,but still sees them as part of his circle and never acts aggressively.

He doesn’t even appear to hate Kurapika or care much for his motives,since he accepted the fact that people will come after him for a multitude of reasons. He doesn’t care how good those reasons are.

The prophecy

Neon’s prophetic ability is meant to help people see the potential future,it’s not presented as being self fulfilling,in which case it would be a scam. The idea is that you can gain knowledge of your potential fate,and chose the course of action accordingly.

Chrollo trusts the ability since he uses it to make important decisions,like whether to stay in yorknew.

If he can use it to his advantage and cheat fate,how could he be a fatalist??

Our will above all else

The phantom troupe is incredibly strong as a group,yet they retain qualities of underdogs. They were born in the most marginalised community possible,in a place that doesn’t officially exist,and yet they’re now feared and infamous.

They won’t allow the world to take from them

They will impose their will on others.

Uvo’s requiem

I will never shut up about it.

It perfectly represents the nature of the Phantom Troupe and Chrollo’s philosophy.

We know Chrollo believes in souls,but does a man who sits in a broken Church and wears upside down crosses believe in any just god? There’s no way Chrollo isn’t a nihilist when it comes to ultimate justice. He expressed those doubts even as a child,and it seems that while he now thinks souls exist,he doesn’t rely on any afterlife.

He never relied on justice from above,he always took matters in his own hands. Believing in souls may mean that he sees death as a change of state,and sees murder as more forgivable since “everyone ends up in the same place anyways”but this is just speculation.

Only he can improve Uvo’s situation.

Uvogin’s soul soon will be gone,who knows where. Chrollo can’t change that,he doesn’t even know if Uvo hears him. But he will fulfil his wish. He will send other souls off in Uvo’s honour. He will show that his life and death mattered. It’s an attempt to reclaim agency,however futile it may be,it seems Chrollo wants to prove something to the universe.

People are the ones who sever ties

Doesn’t this run contrary to his ideas about traitors? It sounds here like he expects loyalty from those close to him. Or does he mean that he himself won’t forget things unless he cuts them off?

He can’t feel less responsible for the deaths of his friends and he can’t forget his place in the world,can’t detach himself from it.

Hi identity is still tied to external things. And it means all of the things he has lost,all of the humanity he has shed were deliberate sacrifices. Like he resigned himself to give up his life for his goals.

It’s very much a show of will.

The coin

It’s a practical way to resolve conflicts. While it’s thrown by a person,and the outcome can be random, therefore unbiased,it could also be them calling to fate to decide who gets his way.

“May happen what is meant to happen”

This leads to no conclusion,but it’s absolutely related to fate so I’ll mention it here.

1/13 analysis

I have no idea how canon this song is,but it’s a great interpretation of the information we have in canon. It touches on many themes crucial to Chrollo and his Troupe. I’m using the translation from the wiki,I don’t know Japanese and honestly I prefer the translation from the YouTube lyric video

This song mentions almost everything I’ve talked about in this post,and even more.

“..From the beginning”

They were doomed from the beginning. Even if they wanted something innocent and simple as dubbing anime,finding purpose in entertaining the masses.

First Chrollo rejects the notion of life,then he goes on to deny fate.

But he also approves them. “As if” The Troupe doesn’t act in accordance with reality and what it has in store for them,they act as if none of those things were real.

Life not existing means it’s meaningless and because of the horrible conditions Chrollo grew up in,he and the others were never given a chance of any life worth living. Life is real,but not for them. It’s something they deny themselves,something they abandon in favour of their duty and goal.

Fate might refer to both,inaction,staying anonymous nobodies,and doing something,surpassing themselves,and then dying a horrible death.

If there is a fate,can they know what it is?

Is Chrollo following his destiny,or acting in spite of it? If only he knew,haha. Maybe it’s not his choice to become a murder,maybe it was meant to be from the beginning. Or maybe he was meant to do nothing and be nothing,yet he refused.

”When we’ve obtained everything,we will disappear without a trace”

Went from actors to phantoms,got it? ;) This line brings in a sense of finality,of inevitability. So he knows they won’t live forever,that there is a limit. Sure,it could be referring to them being impossible to track,but I chose to believe there is more,since Chrollo touches on the possibility of them actually dying.

In that case,should they “separate and face eternity” the Spider’s Soul will live on. Or it must live on! Pretty spiritual, huh.

I love that while everything hints at his views being nihilistic,Chrollo’s spirituality is almost hopeful.

So is his song.It talks both to the enemy (you can’t run from us) and his fellow Spiders. He tells them to just steal,to consult the coin if needed,to trust that the Spider will live on and everything will be fine.

“What is there to fear?” I’m gonna cry,I swear.

This song also has this notion that whatever happens,happens.

“Que sera,sera” and shit. It shows acceptance of things that shouldn’t be accepted. Even his own feelings at the loss of his friends Chrollo acknowledges,and then ignores.

“Can’t be blamed.” He can’t blame himself for still feeling those things,but he just dismisses them. “You will want to sneeze at dust,it’s normal,but hold it in.” = “You will cry at deaths,feel grief and anger. Those reactions are normal,but don’t let it affect you”🗿🧍

What has pride to do with this? I’m genuinely confused. If this mf telling us to be humble? Is it prideful to expect no one to die? Or is this the typical “detach yourself from your feelings”?

Conclusion: Chrollo is seen as a fatalist because of his stoic attitude. The only way (according to HxH fans) to deal with what he goes through,is to tell himself it’s meant to be. I propose that no,he doesn’t think so. He thinks that regardless of fate,he can outsmart it and come out on top. Even if he loses people in the process,in the end it will be worth it. And even if he feels grief at their deaths,that’s just what happens. It didn’t stop him until now. All that just to steal? No,Ofc not. He just doesn’t know how to express his motives.

DO YOU EVEN HAVE CLEAR MOTIVES,CHROLLO? Your journey leads you to nowhere,and we don’t even know where it all went wrong

[dreamlifebunny]

bunny's ✨digital detox✨ + manifestation challenge!

hi friends! i've decided to do a little "dopamine detox" so that i can become more present in my day-to-day, connect with myself and my passions, and apply the law. instead of leaving you without any posts, i thought i would turn this short absence of mine into a challenge so that you can join me if you're interested! this is going to be a very simple challenge that mostly focuses on regaining joy in your life, but i hope it can bring you inspiration and peace.

purpose of challenge: to help your brain enjoy simple things again and fill your life with more joy, to get off of social media and apply the law, and to manifest anything you desire. as you can see, this is mostly a challenge to reconnect with ourselves and what brings us joy, but manifestation is the added bonus of this challenge!

step one:

delete or hide apps on your phone or laptop that involve mindless stimulation. for me, this includes tumblr, social media, checking things that give me notifications like my email, etc. normally, tumblr wouldn't be included in this because i use it for learning about the law, but part of this challenge is about getting offline and actually applying the law, so for now i will be deleting it.

step two:

make a list of activities that bring you joy that don't involve mindless stimulation. here are some ideas of things that i like to do if you're having trouble coming up with your own list:

scripting my dream life and coming up with cute scenarios in my head

writing a letter to a friend and decorating it with my own art or stickers

reading a fiction book and getting lost in the story

reading a non-fiction book to learn things about my passions and interests

singing and playing instruments

journaling or filling out writing prompts

going for bike rides or long walks with music

playing fun video games, but not for hours on end like i normally would heh

step three:

decide what you are going to manifest and choose your favourite methods to fulfill yourself! remember, this challenge is about connecting with yourself and what you love, so pick the methods that make you smile. i really enjoy daydreaming about my desires and feeling every emotion in my body that comes up and knowing that my desire is real.

REMEMBER: this challenge is primarily about doing a digital detox to give our brains more happiness. the main goal isn't to manifest, but it is SO much easier to manifest when our brains aren't constantly stimulated and consuming information. our desires manifesting is an added bonus for this challenge!

step four:

as you engage with your life and connect with awareness (who you are at your core) and as you enjoy activities that bring you joy, remind yourself in whatever way feels best to you that you have all of your desires, and that this extra space you're giving your brain is allowing more space for your lovely desires to show up in your life

step five:

report back during the end of any three-day period from when you start this challenge with your results! results could include how you feel, what you learned about yourself, what you manifested or realized about your manifestation, how your days looked without constantly stimulation, or anything you wish to share!

important note:

detoxing from constant stimulation is a HARD THING TO DO! they design apps to make us addicted, and your need for constant stimulation is not your fault. if at any point this challenge brings up feelings of shame or struggle due to the addiction of constant stimulation, make sure you are compassionate and loving to yourself; you're doing a wonderful thing as a gift to yourself and are a good person who is doing something very tricky, and you should be proud that you are even giving it a try. you are strong and badass and deserve the world and all of your desires! if at any point you need to dip out of this challenge, make sure to pat yourself on the back and thank yourself for trying it and know that you can always do it again in the future if you want to c:

love you friends! i am so excited to see the results of this challenge. i am proud of you, i am inspired by you, and i can't wait to see you all soon! 🥰

lots of love, bunny 💕

[riddles-fiddles]

Can we have a cat? Part 1

Synopsis: you ask your boyfriend if you two can raise a baby kitten together. Characters: all the housewardens Tags: fluff, silly scenario to warm the heart Notes: gender neutral reader, slight long post

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Says no immediately after your "can we-" without hesitation;

Is extremely annoyed by your request to take a pet; he's not the best to tend for himself, imagine taking care of a dependable being? By some magical coincidence, the following day you come to Savanaclaw to spend time with Leona, you're met by a fluffy, round and very noisy ball of red hair and twitching ears - Cheka. Taken aback by the unexpected sight, you let the door to Leona's room behind you close with an unattended thud, pulling the cub's attention from his annoyed uncle to you. "Ohhh! Unca's friend came to play too!" with a hearty squeal, the small boy finally easens his grasp around Leona's arm, eliciting a relieved huff from the older lion who seemed to sink more into the bedsheets, trying to disappear. "y/n, come and play house with us!" Your eyes drift around your boyfriend's room, noticing how chaotic and messy it looked - even more worrysome than the usual: clothes nested around some wooded animal dolls, coloring books scattered over the carpet... and a make-believe tent roughly made from a big blanket and two chairs complemented the setting. While you watched the surroundings with amused surprise, Leona finally noticed your presence, limiting his body to simply lift his head from the pillow with a sly smirk slowly musing his lips. "Weren't you asking for a baby kitten some days ago? Well, congrats, you just got the chance to take care of one. Have fun." With a sarcastic chuckle, he rolls over, officially passing over the responisbility of taking care of Cheka to you.

Surprised by your request; when he asked what'd you want for your birthday, he expected for jewels, new clothes or chocolate.

Is a bit reluctant at the idea, since he has absolutely zero experience with landdwelling company animals.

Azul is prideful of the amount of knowledge he has obtained along his devoted years of land studies, but never inclined himself to extend his knowledge so deep into human animal husbandry. He knew it was common to farm animals and some species were privileged enough to live graciously amongside humans, but the intrinsicability of how to care for them was something foreign. And yet, you made it clear that the only thing you desired for your birthday was a kitten. Determined to fulfill the wish of his beloved, Azul ate piles of books and educational veterinary videos on how to properly raise a healthy cat for days on end, even furthering his - scarce - knowledge about different breeds of felines. The octo-mer knew that raising an animal would demand harsh responsibilities and time to dedicate, which could collide with his management of Mostro Lounge, so he chose to search for a more independent breed. When your birthday finally arrived, Azul made sure to give you to a long day of princess treatment - he drove you to all the places you wanted to see, obliging to your wishes, and when the night befell Octavinelle's dorm, he reserved the Lounge exclusively to you two, a romantic dinner by candles and soft music playing on the background, simply enjoying each other's company and talk. "-And now, allow me to bestow my beloved with my most sincere and humble gift," with a dramatic clear of his throat, Azul disappears by the lounge's heavy curtains, only to return with a basket decorated with bows and a cyan blanket covering the mysterious content inside. "Happy birthday, my precious pearl." As he lifts the blanket, the small figure of a siamese kitten lifts its head, greeting you with a quiet, tender meow.

Excited as hell!!!!

Always wanted to get a pet after leaving his home, but Jamil wouldn't let him.

When you first requested Kalim about a kitten, boy's eyes went wide and sparkling, body fuming with joy. "Of course my love! What kind of cat would you like?" He would ask you excitedly, gently grasping your hands on his, a smile so large it looked painful. "Oh, wait, I know, I know!" Filling the air with playful laughter, Kalim pulls you to his treasure room, bringing down a tapestry with intricate drawings woven all over it, depiciting a very inviting oasis with a girl with important looks laying over a big, imposing feline. "The princess from the Scalding Sands was always followed by a tiger. Maybe we could adopt a cub together! He could grow strong and happy with all the room to run around!" Kalim radiated so much, it would be a sin to tell him that owning a tiger is absolutely unreal, but then there goes Jamil, ready to slam some world-shattering rationality, turning his bright smile into a frustrated pout. Some days after, though, you're certain to get a delightful surprise from Kalim! During one of your Oasis dates, the Asim boy brings you to a beautiful corner of the shared paradise between you two, laughing all the way while carefully leading you through the tricky sand, his hands gently covering your eyes. "Hold on a little longer my love... and... now you can see my surprise!" Finally, he dramatically reveals his loving gift: a baby bengal kitten. Not really a tiger, as you two had envisioned, but equally as stunning.

Fervently refuses it

Vil dislikes seeing you sad, but he can't simply be talked into adopting a kitten. Too much hair, it will ruin his perfect clothes.

"Mon moitié..." he sighs, cautious with his tone. His voice above a whisper as he gently caresses your palm. "I understand the desire to care for a cute, vulnerable being, but it wouldn't work." Despite all your efforts to try and charm Vil into your idea of taking mutual care of a kitten, the man was harder to convince than you expected, showing how determined he was on keeping his looks always the living definition of perfection. Although stubborn on his decision against it, he proved to be patient enough to endure your contant bickering. You passionately tried to show him the bright side of owning a kitten; health benefities, dozens of magazines talking about how animals makes you look even more attractive, but nothing was nothing to ring his bell, only eliciting exhausted sighs and repetitive 'no's from him. Eventually, you decided to take matters into your own hands. As usual, Vil came over to Ramshackle Dorm during the weekend for a sleepover and skincare session date. It wasn't until he was about to settle down on bed to snuggle by your side that he felt something fluffy and squishy, quickly moving away from him that he noticed something off. "Mon amour, is that...?" he asks, a slight anxious tone on his voice as Vil slowly lifted the warm blankets, eyes widening by the sudden vision of big yellow eyes staring back into the shadows. "So, you decided to go against my desire to not adopt a cat, uh?" He lets out a defeated sigh, pose slumping off for a moment before his gaze locking onto your pleading eyes. A quiet chuckle falls off his lips, amused by your adorable antics. "Fine, I guess it couldn't be that bad..."

Just like Kalim, he's over the ceiling with the idea!

Idia loves cats, and now he won't need to charm Grim or Lucius into his lap anymore! "Y-you're serious about it?! We can finally have a kitten of our own?!" Poor boy can hardly contain his joy; eyes half lidded and smile large, baring all of his shiny, sharp teeth. With a spring in his feet, slightly rocking, he wastes no time from pulling his tablet up, quickly searching for adoption centers as million of result windows popped right in front of you two. "Which kind would you like? I've been looking forward for a kitty just like Lucius TBH..." He mumbles to himself all the while, his pale face finally drawing some rosy colour to his cheeks as the boy made sure to schedule a million adoption appointments. Though you needed to do all the social business of talking to the volunteers and staff responsible for the kittens, it was already a true demonstration of how much the shy boy was excited for the occasion by the way he followed through with you with every step of the process, and when you two were finally granted access to the cells, you watched with gleeful delight the way Idia finally let loose, rolling around the could floor with a horde of kittens in his gentle embrace. "This is the happiest super event of my life! If this is a dream, please don't wake me up", he babbled between breathless giggles, cradling a bunch of kittens close, before pulling you along a careful, half hug. "I get to adopt a kitty and spend time with you..." In the end of the day, you two exited the adoption center with not only one, but a full litter of kittens on your arms. After all, how could you deny the lively sparkle on your boyfriend's eyes?

Secretly excited about it; he always wanted pets, but was denied by his strict mother

He needs to stop and think about his duties as housewarden, though.

The idea of adopting a kitten stings something within his heart - a fluterring, warm feeling washing over his being as Riddle contemplates the sincere joy of tending over a dependable, beautiful and frail being like a kitty. What wondrous delight would it be to care for it and see it grow every day. "That sounds mos pleasing, my rose," he mumbles, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. However, the vision merely lasts a second, before his frowning features once again graces the moment. "But I'll have to put some thought on that matter first." As much as Riddle longs for the idea of cultivating something beautiful like a life by your side, he needs to consider a lot of things - a kitten can be feisty and curious, too much for its own good. The ruler of roses would not tolerate any kind of disarray, although he learned to be less harsh on the matter. He was also worried regarding the animals that lived within the Garden of Roses; the kitten could mistake the dormouse for a toy or even try to eat it, and Riddle couldn't bear the thought of the flower bushes turning into total messes. He would dwell on the final decision for days, trying to find a way to keep both parties happy and satisfied - worry not though, as all he needs to make his mind is for you to bring the kitten over and show him just how much well behaved it can be, always keeping an eye out for any mischievous intent of climbing over the roses, of course. While alone, you could even delight on the way Riddle would dress your kitten with special clothing. "Since he is basically a member of Heartslabyul, I thought it would be the most appropriate to dress him with our dorm uniform."

Surprised and excited by your request

Since he's basically still learning about humans intrinsicities, the idea of experiencing the pleasure of taking care of an animal amused him

"Oh, a little kitten, you say?", he mused almost immediately after the exposing of your wish, a compliant grin gracing his features. "And what stirs that sudden desire, child of man?" Malleus learned to admire and revel on the few occasions where he was privileged to spend time between animals, as most of them seemed to fear his imposing nature - and maybe that was the biggest reason he grew anxious by the days, playing the encounter with the kitten on his head over and over. Like Azul, he spends his free time learning more about felines - all the things about their diet, behaviour, health issues... he wants to be useful while helping you take care of the baby, while also avoiding bigger mistakes. The fae prince makes his excitement clear even with his usual face and mannerism, always telling you little facts he learned while studying or asking you something about cats that really piqued his interest. When you two would lie down and talk until falling asleep, Malleus would suggest a line of names for your kitty, or then hear your suggestions intently, sometimes cooing in agreement. When the day to meet your beloved furbaby finally came, Malleus was overjoyed, but a little hesitant still. The prince took the small feline carefully into his hands, fearing it would break from the slightest brush of fingers, only to gasp in wondrous surprise by the way the tiny animal curled up against his chest, seekin his warmth and safety. "I see you're an exquisite one, little kitten. I'm absolutely smitten with your frail figure." You watched in awe as Malleus gaze softened with a tenderness much similar to the one he reserves to you, the glimmer on his eyes a silent promise regarding the kitten.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

I know you're on hiatus So you don't have to answer this now if you don't want to. Take your time. But this idea just popped in my head and I gotta tell you before it forgot about it.

So sub yandere jisung who has a crush on you and has journal. He writes all of his fantasies about you in that journal because hes too shy to actually tell you how he feels. Many are very wholesome fantasies about you and him. Cooking/baking together, watching movies together, going on cute little dates. And then there are the "not so wholesome" fantasies, where he explains in great detail what he wants you to do to him. Pegging, bondage using toys on him and lots of other ✨️juicy✨️stuff. He hides his journal in his room hoping no one will find it, But one day he gets careless and leaves a it out in the open where you happen to find it. And when he discovers that you've found it and you read every single page of that journal he just crumbles.

-🐟anon

i literally just finished writing the sub yandere jisung hcs and THEN I READ THIS

OMFGGG

you would get complete whiplash reading that journal, the first page is just him gushing about how much he loves you and would do anything for you, a scenario where he confesses his undying love for you and imagines everything you could be,

the next page is ideas, notes about things you like and places you mentioned that interested you, like the museum or a restaurant you've wanted to try. it's filled with hearts and cute date ideas, a rating out of ten on how much he thinks you'd enjoy it,

and then the next page is straight up porn, damn boy would put us in shock with the filth he depicts on the page, imagining how it would feel for you to peg him, describing exactly how he would want it and the size dildo he wants (he's also ordered it, already all tied up in a pretty box in his closet, waiting for the day that you'll finally use it on him)

the next page is movies, date ideas with shows he thinks you'll like and one's that you've already said you like that he's planning to watch so he can talk to you about them<3

the next page is straight up sex toys he wishes you'd use on him. vibrators and dildos, cockrings and ropes, gags and lingerie (you don't really know if he wants you to wear it or him to, or even both of you to)

it goes back and forth, with each new page you'll never know what you'll get, the filthiest smut out there or the sweetest fluff. a scarily accurate recounting of how your body looks or a love song he's written for you

there's two options after you've read it really, put it back and pretend it never happened, act like you never found it and never ever bring it up to him

or confront him and fulfill some of the depraved perverted fantasies that he's written about...

his blush would be really cute if you did tell him, but he would either be absolutely mortified or maybe, secretly, deep down some part of him wanted you to find it, some part of him knew that leaving it out in the open would result in you finding it

and the same part of him would sing and gloat in pleasure as you make him act out just how he would ride your thigh like he wrote in the margins of his journal

--

anyway, yes, sub yandere jisung hc will probably be out soon and i dunno who i'll do next yet but we'll find out soon enough

(also isn't there a song where the singer talks about finding someone's journal at their house, something like, 'read those pages, you really love me baby?' or smth? idk, i could be tripping)

[angelgoddard]

♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡

in the drama of manifestation, there exists four major roles that are essential to the materialization of any desire. each one plays a different role, much like plays have different roles. in this post, i will be explaining each one in detail. (information comes from here: 🎀 )

One: The Producer. The producer does nothing other than suggest an idea (a desire). This is your I AM speaking to your conditioned level of conciousness to suggest something that you're lacking.

Two: The Author. The author has a significant role in the drama of manifestation. It "writes" (constructs) a scene that implies the wish fulfilled. For example, if you wished for a specific type of hair, you, as the author would write a scene of you getting complimented on your hair, or you brushing it. The author puts together the skelton of the show so that it is ready to be brought to life on stage.

Three: The Director. The director's job is to keep attention on the show that's playing on stage. It stops the actor from wandering away from their job by keeping their attention focused on the task at hand. You, as the director, should always be gently redirecting your mental focus back onto your imaginary scene whenever your mind starts to wander during SATS.

Four: The Actor. Arguably the most important part of the show, the actor brings everything to life. The actor is your imagination. Remember that nothing can exist without being animated by your mind. For the play to begin, you must start it as the actor. Place yourself in the shoes of the main character of the scenario which implies your wish fufilled, and play the role to the very best of your abilities. This acting is essential because it is what makes manifestation actually happen. Your desires will remain dead unless you, the actor, breathe life into them, using your imagination.

[gabessquishytum]

Hello Again Friend,

I wanted to thank you for your kind response to my last submission - it has given me the encouragement to actually start this outrageously large fic that I have going on in my head. We shall see if at least part of it will be ready for AO3 by the end of the year😅

I have been considering sending you a snippet I was working on but it’s not nearly as flushed out as the first scenario (emotional Dream kneeling fic idea, just to confirm) I submitted to you. (read: I haven’t had a 2am anxiety-induced writing frenzy over it lol). But seeing your reblog of deviantly-inspired’s post made me feel like I could share it with you no matter how unfinished. The concept in my mind is similar and is also inspired by multiple fandom headcanons/fic readings so here goes nothing~

*****

Before Dream begs Hob not to love him, before he kneels at the power Hob’s love has over him, and even before he allowed their relationship to slip unacknowledged past “just friends” into “what are we?,” territory, Dream had ignored his growing feelings for Hob. They had been friends seeing each other quite regularly for the better part of a year when Hob invited him upstairs to get away from the rambunctious new college graduates swarming the inn. Dream blamed their drunkenly hopeful and untamed dreams for the excitement he felt at following Hob to his private quarters. Of course, it was just a friendly invite considering Dream’s dislike for crowds and it was just a regular apartment for all intents and purposes. Except that it wasn’t. It was Hob’s apartment filled with Hob’s things and it was cozy and welcoming just like The New Inn. So how could Dream resist when Hob suggested they move future meetings there. “For the convenience, ya know? Less bothering the staff and saving money eating out ya know?” Hob is only rational so why disagree. “Not that you ever were an expensive date, ha! Seeing as I don’t think you ever ate at one of our meetings when I think about it. Hmm, do you even eat?”

Dream meets his eyes from where he sits across the couch: “If you mean do I need to consume sustenance for energy than no I don’t need to eat. But I usually abstain because like all things I consume I can sense the dreams of their creators which is unsatisfying in most cases.”

Hob’s eyes widen, “Unsatisfying because the dreams are bad or…?”

“Some. Often, the wishes are for riches or fame in cooking and sometimes they are dreams of being delicious or fulfilling which I find gratifying. But usually they are simply wishes to go home and rest which I believe you could see my hesitance for eating them in your company.” Dream smiles that tiny one-sided smile of his and Hob brightens up because he has a new goal based on what Dream said. He’s going to cook him a meal to enjoy just for him.

*Spongebob meme voice: Three Weeks Later”

Dream smells everything before he even knocks on the door of Hob’s flat. Hob has a bright smile despite the sweat on his face and he bows mockingly to say: “Your highness, dinner is served.”

Dream arches an eyebrow ready to decline the invite but even he knows it would be rude to deny as a guest. Especially when he can see Hob put a substantial amount of effort into the steaming pot he is currently scooping from. The drone of the oven fan fills the silent camaraderie of the moment as Dream sits at the small table set with two spoons and two glasses of wine. ‘How intimate,’ he thinks and is glad his embarrassed flush is covered up by Hob placing a gently steaming bowl in front of him and sitting across the table. “It’s just some beef stew but I hope you’ll like it. And it’s a totally odd companion dessert but I made some chocolate chip cookies to go with it. I’m just preheating the oven now.” Hob gives Dream a blindingly kind smile before he starts to eat and launches into a story about his Tuesday class.

The lack of pressure to eat or even talk is one of the things Dream appreciates about his friend. But to return this kindness he chooses to at least politely take a few bites before outright denying the cookies. On sight the stew is nothing more than dark gravy with hefty chunks of tender beef, soft carrots, fluffy potatoes, and translucent onions. A good hearty stew to be sure but nothing crazy for the palette and definitely not anything worth writing home about.

Dream scoops a single spoonful into his mouth and freezes. His natural stillness allows the moment to go unnoticed by Hob but the entire collective unconsciousness comes to a halt. The simple stew resonates with a multitude of wishes that coalesce into one overarching dream. The single most important dream of its creator imbued into every molecule and Dream can more than taste it. Run his human tongue over it, crush it between his teeth, and swallow it into the empty cavern of hunger too large for this human form to possess. The oven beeps so Hob excuses himself to quickly shape some cookies and get them into the oven. In the meantime, Dream is allowed to continue being overwhelmed in private.

He stares at where his spoon disappears into the comforting brown stew until his vision starts to blur. Tears are starting to well up in his eyes and though he has not been breathing this entire time his hands begin to shake. Shake with want, he wants to eat the entire bowl stew and all. The dream buried within that bowl begins to call to him and the intense fervor with which he wants to consume it all almost scares him. He wants to grab the still simmering cast iron pot and absorb it’s entirety into his being. Is it rude to eat Hob’s remainder? Could he lick the remaining flavor from within Hob’s lips so that he may always know it’s flavors? Is it too much to feel this way for a friend’s kindness? Is it too much for him to beg Hob for more sustenance? Is it too much to admit to Hob he is starving and only this will nourish him? What taste will his longing tears add to the broth? What more would Hob give him when he had nothing to offer in return?

The oven door shuts and suddenly the thought of an even sweeter food causes Dream to take in a lungful of air in fear. It would be too much to bear. It would be too much because he is too much.

“Are you okay, Dream? You look a little shaken.” Shaken? Yes, he is shaken to his core. The stinging tears threaten to fall but Dream blinks them back with immeasureable control because he cannot lose control. Not here.

“It is of no matter. My apologies for your efforts but I do not believe I could partake in your dessert. Thank you however, for the stew.” Dream carefully says only the truth. He does not say that it was ambrosia and the only reason he does not gorge himself on it is fear that there will be no more left. That’s not true, he fears acknowledging it would mean no more would come. Better to take this single bite now and have many singular bites in meetings to follow than to choke it all down now and never be able to feast again. He returns the spoon carefully to where it was initially set and puts his hands into his lap to hide their trembling.

“Of course, it’s totally fine, Dream! I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want. Besides, I’ll eat all of this myself eventually,” Hob smiles and tries not to let it be strained. He had hoped pouring all of his emotions into this meal would show Dream that he wanted to have more than just friendship with him but he must have misunderstood. It’s just plain soup after all and the cookies are the Tollhouse recipe so what was he expecting? A dramatic and mutual love confession? Was he thinking Dream would fall to his knees and rejoice in Hob’s regard? No! Of course, he would only stare at the soup with his starry eyes and take a singular bite before denying more. Maybe eating was painful and that’s why he had a pained expression on his face. Maybe Dream did know what feelings Hob put into the stew and was kindly ignoring them to allow Hob to save face and for that he was grateful. For that, he could continue their friendship without shame and choke down his soup and two cookies while still trying to play that he wasn’t bothered. He knew once Dream left the food would be thrown away.

Dream waited patiently for Hob to finish his stew and eat his warm cookies a little too soon after pulling them from the oven. Hob barely avoided choking on the burning dough through a series of undignified swearing about the temperature and blowing puffs of hot air from his open mouth. If Dream weren’t so caught up in his mind he would have done more than laugh his braying laugh. When Hob finishes they retire back to the perfectly worn out couch and Dream takes a last glimpse at the pot on the stove.

In that pot was a stew filled with unfathomable care and gentle regard for Dream. Every morsel flavored with warm feelings of positivity and each piece a wish for nourishment. The time taken imbued every spoonful with a wish for happiness. The mixture of textures and wishes gave the stew a singular flavor, a singular dream that Dream could not ignore. The stew, because its creator created it so, dreamed of comfort for Dream. A dream so beautiful and heartfelt it filled him with tears to be so cared for. It would be torture then to taste the cookies and know he could never have Hob. To know that he should not have Hob.

They said their goodnights and Hob packed away the stew because he couldn’t really bear to waste a perfectly good few meals. He did however, throw away the remaining cookie dough because it felt wrong to eat them or give them away when he made it for Dream. When he imagined Dream’s laugh with every scoop of flour, when he imagined the stars in Dream’s dark eyes for every grain of salt, the baking soda his smirk, the egg yolks his sunny small smiles, the white sugar his pale human skin, the brown sugar his dark unruly hair, the vanilla extract his unique scent, when every stir was a loving caress he longed to give and with every chocolate chip a sweet kiss. He would throw this declaration of love away if only to keep their friendship.

Dream returned to the Dreaming in a sweep of sand and he was glad to be away from Hob. From his flat’s intoxicating warmth and his easy smiles if only so he could think. He had to stop this from going further. He could not love Hob. It would ruin him. He would not let himself do that to his dearest friend…his only friend. He would not love Hob and it would be okay. Because they could be friends! Because it would be enough.

It will be okay because Hob does not love him.

****

You know, I am so sorry for coming to you a second time and just dropping my long ass scenarios on you lol. I just can’t get the imagine of Hob making Dream something yummy and it being so full of care that it makes Dream well up with tears. He has never been loved so quietly before, so patiently, so unobtrusively and I just want that for him. Hopefully, this will get worked into the same fic and hopefully one day we’ll all be able to read it lol. Once again, my apologies for dropping this on you but I hope you have a good day!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️

Sincerely,

🧶Anon

Oh beloved 🧶 anon!!! I'm so glad to hear that you felt encouraged by my last response, I'm absolutely thrilled and so excited by the prospect of reading what you create! Even if it takes some time, I promise that the effort will be worth it.

I'm absolutely obsessed with what you've done with Dream and food and love here. It's so beautiful and it's one of my favourite things to think about. How does Dream interpret love, as an Endless being with access to the entire collective unconsciousness of humanity? He seems very much to feel emotions in the same way that we do - perhaps even in a more heightened way. I'm so interested in the way a home cooked meal imbued with all of Hob’s thoughts and good intentions and love would make him feel. How overwhelming would it be to have those things directed at him specifically for once? Hob’s love is not overwhelming, in itself. It's an ember that's burned softly for many years, and nothing can put it out. But even though it is so gentle, Dream just can't... hold it. Not without coming apart.

And Hob, oh bless him. I'm totally in the "food is Hob’s love language" camp. I'm so emotional about the idea of him sadly throwing out the cookie dough, respectful of Dream’s wishes but still feeling a little bruised that his love doesn't seem to be enough. I think that he won't stop trying, though. That little ember isn't going anywhere.

So, once again: thank you for sharing this. You are wonderful and you're going to make a wonderful fic. I hope you have a great day, my friend!

[zannolin]

fic author q&a

tagged by @beautyofsorrow <3

why do you write fanfic?

short answer, because i love it and it makes me happy. longer answer, still that. but it makes other people happy too, sometimes, and especially as i am often writing for nicher series/pairings/dynamics/etc, i love knowing that someday if anyone else likes this obscure silly thing, they can go looking for fic about it and mine will be there waiting for them. also i am immensely unhappy when i'm not writing. i don't think i could live without it. and writing fanfic is fulfilling to me in a way that original work often is not, largely because of the community aspect and the low pressure for it to be marketable or revised or support me as a person or an artist tbh.

which of your posted stories do you think of the most even though the story is "finished"?

mmm tough call. the fey au in the sense that it's the world and plot i am proudest of craft-wise. i worked really hard and i think you can see that it paid off. but other than that i think... i think it might have to be please don't hold me to it right now. because i did it just how i wanted. in a way it's like what my boys in bars series was trying to be but didn't quite reach on the friendship level i think.

if you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

just let yourself write what you want, how you want. you can have flowery prose. you can be weird and vague and metaphorical. you can just write about friends, i promise. and stop looking at your fucking stats.

what's your relationship to fic stats?

well. i think above answers that one lol. i've blocked my ao3 stats. i cannot see hit or kudos or bookmark counts on ANY fics. + i've gotten much better about not expecting anything especially by writing highly niche stuff.

is there a pairing or scenario or friendship that you miss writing? if so, why? if not, why not?

ehhh. the shazamily, to an extent. the shazam fandom is lovely because so many of us are writing family/friendship centric works and that's if not the norm, at least MUCH more common than in other fandoms that i've been in, and i miss that because at heart, i'm a genficcer. i'm a friendshipper. i love platonic and ambiguous relationships so much. so i miss that, but for the most part, i'm actually okay with not writing anything i used to write. that's okay.

what motivates you to write?

i WILL lose my mind if i don't. i can't even elaborate past that like i'll just go bonkers.

why do you write for the fandom(s) you write for?

because i am sick and ill and dying from brainrot and nobody is writing the highly specific content that i crave in the way that i crave it. sometimes there's nothing for the fandom at all, and SOMEBODY's gotta be the change. mostly i'm just like hyperfixated and losing it.

if you're stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

take a break. do other things like jigsaw puzzles and taking walks and reading books. listening to phoebe bridgers on my floor. the usual. it'll pass. the ideas will come when they're ready.

what do you wish people knew about comments?

a genuine comment is never a bother. NEVER. no author that i have ever met is going to be upset at you for commenting on a fic and saying hey i really loved this!!! or something like that. no matter how old that fic is. no matter if the author has moved on, or put it on anon, or hasn't written fanfiction in years. it is never, ever a bother. when i get a comment on a fic that i didn't JUST post, i rejoice. i lie on my floor and i think about how incredible it is that people are still finding, reading, and loving something that i wrote, no matter how bad i think it is now that i've grown into a different person. i have coasted for WEEKS on the fact that someone left me a comment saying i loved this and here's my favorite part. here's why. this made me cry. this made me smile. this reminded me of my best friend. this is how it feels, really, you got it. any of that. all of it. sometimes a fic is me going "is this crazy??" and a comment is someone saying "no, no, it's not, i see it". a comment that takes like two minutes to type can matter for two years just by being like, hey, this mattered to me. plus like 90% of my friendships online have been founded on the basis of commenting on fanfic so you know, rave reviews from me.

maybe there's a question you wish had been on here. what's that question (and answer)? -> is there a fic and/or author who is doing what you want to be doing with your own writing? who/what?

i can yap all day about inspirations but lately, i am haunted by love me on purpose by smoosnoom in terms of themes, emotions, and pure aching; @thcscus in sheer technicality and prose; the pacing, metaphor, and tone in there's daggers in men's smiles, @beautyofsorrow's sensory work in literally Every fic ever + her fic for the barbie zine none of you losers get to read yet; and @blusandbirds' ability to capture visceral emotion so damn vividly and succinctly.

tagging @blusandbirds @transjlawrence @lordgrimwing @pinkgrapefloyd!

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Hihi!

Hey, I was just wondering. What if it turned out that it wasn't as simple as having all 3 pieces of the Triforce? What if there was more to it? What if, even after having gotten them all, the DorfMisers were unable to use the pieces of Wisdom & Courage until they exemplified those qualities to the same degree that he did Power naturally?

Heck, what if the same was true of the wish they were supposed to get from it? Like, they can't because they're imbalanced.

Meaning that the very thing they were so obsessed with obtaining was barred from them specifically because of that very obsession.

A bit like how the Mirror of Erised hid the Philosopher Stone from Voldemort. But Harry just outright got it because he didn't actually care about the Philosopher's Stone. He just wanted it to keep it out of Voldemort's hands.

So, the Husbanditos don't even really get the extra power boosts that Zelda & Link might've from their parts.

Oooo I like this take! Explains very much why everything goes fuckin' wonky when he gets the Triforce, even if the wish doesn't necessarily require any mayhem or destruction (Like controlling Hyrule in HW. Why does the land become corrupt when he wishes for dominion over Hyrule? just make it so he's king and be done. The fact that his chakras are not in alignment would explain this.)

***********************************************************************

This scenario would present a deeply ironic and philosophical twist on the Ganondorfs’ pursuit of the Triforce. Each incarnation of Ganondorf seeks to obtain all three pieces of the Triforce to gain ultimate power and fulfill their ambitions, yet their obsession with power becomes the very thing that bars them from unlocking the full potential of Wisdom and Courage. This imbalance forces them to face their shortcomings and confront the truth: raw power alone is not enough.

Here’s how each Ganondorf and Demise might react to this revelation:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf is already a more introspective version of his character. He speaks of past regret and lost opportunities, and while he still seeks to conquer, his motivations are tempered with the bitter lessons of failure. Upon learning that the Triforce’s full power is locked from him because he lacks the balance of Wisdom and Courage, this would likely strike a deep chord of irony and self-reflection.

He might brood over it, realizing that his obsession with power is the very thing preventing him from fulfilling his ultimate goal. This would be incredibly frustrating, yet it would also be a moment of clarity. He’s already shown the capacity for regret, and this revelation might push him toward acknowledging his flaws.

Scene: Ganondorf stands in the ruined hall where the Triforce hovers above him. His eyes narrow as he extends his hand toward it. But nothing happens.

"Why? Why will you not bend to me?" His voice rises in frustration as he pounds his fist into the ground. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage glow faintly but remain distant, out of his grasp.

Realization dawns as he understands the cruel truth. The Triforce won’t bow to him because he lacks balance. A grim smile spreads across his face, bitter with irony.

"The gods mock me," he mutters. "Even now, they withhold what is rightfully mine. Not for lack of strength, but for lack of their so-called virtues. Wisdom… Courage. Two things I never needed to take what I wanted."

But in the quiet of the broken hall, his words feel hollow. For a moment, the weariness of his endless struggle overtakes him. He would likely spend time in deep reflection after this, wondering if he has pursued the wrong path all along.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf is arrogant, domineering, and entirely consumed by his desire for power. The idea that the Triforce is beyond his reach because he lacks qualities like Wisdom and Courage would fill him with rage. He would see this as an insult, a cruel trick of fate, and likely lash out violently at the idea that the gods would put such limitations on something he has fought so hard to obtain.

His obsession would likely lead him to redouble his efforts, perhaps even going to dangerous lengths to try and force his way into unlocking the full Triforce, ignoring the lesson it’s trying to teach him. His pride would blind him to any form of introspection.

Scene: Ganondorf stands before the Triforce, his lips twisted in a snarl as he grips the piece of Power tightly. He stretches out his hand to claim the other two pieces, but nothing happens.

"What?!" he bellows, his fury echoing through the Sacred Realm. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage shimmer mockingly in front of him, just out of reach.

"I have them all!" he screams, slamming his fist into the ground, the very earth trembling beneath his rage. "Why do they not obey me?"

He tries again and again, but no matter how much power he exerts, the pieces refuse to align. His frustration mounts, and his body crackles with dark energy as he lashes out, destroying everything around him in a fit of uncontrollable anger.

In his rage, he would refuse to accept the truth. To him, this would be a cruel joke, a betrayal by the gods, and he would stop at nothing to break the Triforce’s will, unable to comprehend that the barrier is not one of force but of balance.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf is cold, calculating, and deeply cunning. Upon realizing that the Triforce remains locked from him because of his obsession with power, his reaction would be more measured than others. He wouldn’t lash out in blind rage, but rather, he would seethe internally, trying to understand how to work around this limitation.

His pride would be wounded, but he would immediately begin plotting. He wouldn’t see this as a personal failing, but rather as another challenge to overcome. He would try to find a way to exemplify Wisdom and Courage without fully understanding them—perhaps manipulating others to embody those traits for him.

Scene: Ganondorf stands before the assembled Triforce, his eyes narrowed in thought. He extends his hand toward it, but nothing happens. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage hover, just out of his reach, glowing faintly.

He lowers his hand, staring at the pieces with cold calculation. "So this is how it is," he murmurs, his voice laced with icy disdain. "The gods believe me unworthy."

He turns away from the Triforce, his cape swirling behind him as he begins to pace. "Wisdom… Courage… These are the keys to unlocking you?" He smirks darkly, his mind already turning. "If that is what it takes, then I will find a way to gain them. One does not need to possess such things to use them."

He would begin a methodical search for a way to exploit Wisdom and Courage, perhaps trying to manipulate others who hold those qualities, intending to twist them to his own advantage.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf is charismatic and brimming with bravado, but underneath that confidence lies the same hunger for power as his other incarnations. Upon learning that the Triforce cannot be used because he lacks balance, he would likely be frustrated but intrigued. He’s cunning enough to realize this as a puzzle, a challenge to be solved.

He would approach it with a sense of determination rather than anger, convinced that there’s a way for him to gain the necessary qualities or at least fake them enough to unlock the full Triforce. However, his arrogance might blind him to the real meaning behind the balance required.

Scene: Ganondorf’s hand hovers over the Triforce. He expects its power to surge into him, but when it doesn’t, his eyes narrow. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage remain separate, their glow taunting him.

"Ah," he mutters, a smirk creeping across his face. "So it’s not just strength that you seek."

He lowers his hand, folding his arms across his chest as he gazes at the Triforce with a new sense of respect. "You demand balance, do you?" His smile widens, but it’s filled with dark amusement. "Very well. I shall play your game. You think I lack Wisdom and Courage? I will show you otherwise."

Unlike his other incarnations, Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would approach this as a puzzle, confident that he can either develop or fake the necessary qualities. He wouldn’t see it as a personal failing, but as a new challenge to conquer.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would likely be enraged at the discovery that the Triforce is locked from him due to his imbalance. However, he’s also cunning and understands manipulation. While his immediate reaction would be anger, he would quickly shift to trying to manipulate or force Wisdom and Courage, either within himself or from others, to gain the full power he seeks.

He might even contemplate whether he could take those traits from others, perhaps eyeing Zelda and Link as means to his ends.

Scene: Ganondorf’s hand hovers above the Triforce, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. But the pieces remain separate, shimmering with a quiet defiance.

His lips curl into a snarl as he lowers his hand, a surge of anger coursing through him. "Why do you resist me?" he growls, his voice reverberating through the chamber.

The realization dawns slowly, and his fury is palpable. "Wisdom… Courage… You mock me with your petty requirements!" His fist clenches as dark energy crackles around him.

But then, his anger shifts, his mind already working. "Very well," he mutters, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "If that is what you demand, I will find a way to take it. Wisdom… Courage… These are just tools like any other. And tools can be bent to my will."

He would likely begin a new plot, aiming to acquire Wisdom and Courage, not through personal growth, but by taking them from others—seeing Zelda and Link as obstacles that he could overcome.

Demise

Reaction: Demise, as the embodiment of power and hatred, would react with pure fury. To him, the idea that something as intangible as Wisdom or Courage could prevent him from achieving his goal would be infuriating. His immediate response would be violence and rage, striking out at anything and everything around him.

Unlike the others, Demise would not seek to learn or manipulate these qualities. He would see the very idea of Wisdom and Courage as weaknesses, refusing to accept that they have any value.

Scene: Demise stands before the Triforce, his burning eyes locked onto the glowing pieces. He reaches out, expecting to feel their power flow into him. But they do not move.

His face twists into a snarl, and with a bellow of rage, he slams his fist into the ground, the very earth cracking beneath his fury. "You DARE deny me?!" His voice is thunderous, filled with wrath.

But no matter how much rage he unleashes, the Triforce remains out of his reach. He howls in fury, refusing to accept that something as “weak” as Wisdom or Courage could be the cause.

[mambo-by-a-mile]

Storytime idea: an alternate universe where Frieda won / succeeded in taking over the kingdom...from Mambo's POV.

'Cozy Enough? Need a blankie? A snack?'

Mambo just shot a pitiful glare back, a hot, single tear forming in the corner of his eye to as a harsh and unfortunate completion of said pitifulness-it wasn't as if he could do anything else in his given situation. For once, he had no wisecrack, quip, or smart retort full of his classic snark in response to the wolves' taunts. Nothing but the feeling of sheer smallness. He kept himself scrunched up in his attempt at a defiant stance from where he was shackled to the wall as he watched the vicious canids march away in howls of cruel laughter after slamming the caged door to his small cell.

Once he could no longer hear their cackles through the dungeon's stone walls, he loosened out of his former stance, and slowly walked towards the left corner of the cell he was being held in. He wiped a couple more tears from the corner of his eyes with his sleeve, defeatedly kicking a small stone on the floor towards the cell bars. He then slid himself down against the wall to sit down on the cold, hard floor, the chain locked around his torso rattling as he did so. The cuff seemed like it was initially meant to fasten around an ankle, though given the cat creature's small size it was more opted to fit around the former part of his body-not that it was any more comfortable there.

Mambo hugged his knees to his chest in a fetal position, feeling the chill of the dungeon air seep through his clothing fabric and fur. It only further served as a reminder of the situation he had gotten himself as well as his friends into in just a couple days. For all the times Munk and The Wizard had told him his troublemaking schemes would one day get him in real hot water, he had brushed it off as another typical scolding he had long been accustomed to, having never thought of it beyond that. With a kingdom now taken over by a madwoman, the phrase 'too little too late' in regards to putting the though in a serious light had never been more appropriate. Furthermore, he hadn't though it had ever meant him screwing up this badly.

Just a day or so ago he and Munk had been arguing over who had been to blame for Frieda getting her hands on the staff in the first place, though given his current position, even he didn't know how much of the blame he could deflect from himself and onto the pig creature anymore-now there was something he would never admit to his co-assistant under any other circumstance. Looking around his dark, lonely cell in the current circumstance-as much as he hated to admit it-he would give anything to hear the short pig's nagging voice from within the same room now. Anything to be back in the top tower room bored out of his skull, slopping away at the chores he despised so much if it was the alternative to this. All those times he just wanted the older small creature to let him have a little fun, his wishing for things to be 'edgier' or more interesting for him to be constantly denied, he never thought what was happening now would be the result of getting his wish fulfilled.

His thoughts drifted to Ella. Getting to know her over the past two days since Frieda's takeover as more than the classic 'Cinderella' or another fairy tale maiden but rather an optimistic, kind, determined, girl with her own thoughts, goals, and dreams had gotten the smart Alec cat creature to consider the lives of other fairy tale land residents within the stories of the book. If there was ever an incident that had proven to him that nobody's lives should be pre-determined by fate it was meeting and knowing her as a person rather than a character. Had he initially just thought of all the residents as mere characters or tools for him to put into 'interesting' scenarios for selfish amusement before his and Munk's talk with her over her story? Like Frieda had been doing? The thought was enough to make him wince. He couldn't imagine how scared she must be feeling now, whatever Frieda was doing to her. 'Yeah, because of you ya stupid, useless excuse for a wizard assistant.' His guilty conscious chewed him out.

And Rick, the young man who truly loved her and was ready to put himself in harm's way for her. Perhaps he had found a way to save her and was making things right somehow? For her and everyone else's sakes he hoped so.

Mambo felt another warm tear building up in the corner of his eye yet again. If only he had listened to Munk when he told him to get off the crystal ball, if he had just been content with sitting around keeping an eye on the Cinderella tale as The Wizard had told him and Munk to. Then again, he supposed he wouldn't have met Rick or Ella personally if he had...

Regardless, the usually devil-may-care, fun-loving, rebellious, mischievous cat creature had never felt so helpless before in his life. Had he been able to see Munk right now would the pig creature blame him just as much as he was blaming himself right now? Most likely. Worst of all, Mambo still didn't know whether or not he would be able to properly apologize to his co-assistant and-yes, he was sure-friend over causing all of this with his childish antics. What good would it do either way? The only thing he could do was sit silently in darkness and hope this nightmare would end somehow.

[theobsessedcookiefan]

hey can I Request a headcannon of how the dragons would react to a Kratos like reader who is also the child of Longan?

Scenario: It's taking place near end of the age of dragons story like around the part Snake fruit is getting their crumbs handed to them. but then Longan gets tangled by chaineds and slammed into the island. everybody look at who did that and it was the cookie wearing a old cloak then the cloak cookie says"Longan" As they take off their cloak revealing who they are. "your child has returned. I bring the destruction of your reign!!"

Hi !!! Thx for the suggestion !! Srry I've been kinda dead, I'm becoming obsessed with a jester.. (Yes. Shadow Milk Cookie)

DC/N is your name okay? And also I wanted to give you a little idea to what you could look like!

The bot is gonna take a bit more longer to do so I'll just make a bunch and put them on a post!

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

The dragon's legacy.

"Ugh.. Thiss cannot be.." Snake Fruit Cookie said, once the power seemed to fade away from them; the snake tried to end the Longan Dragon by absorbing the power of the orb in the palace, it had the life source of all petrified cookies by the other orbs, once they got the other dragons and main crew to destroy it Snake Fruit Cookie absorbed the power and managed to fulfill their plan; Becoming a dragon themselves. Sadly for the Cookie it did not seem to be enough since it was no challenge to the Ivory Dragon to defeat them.

"You are not worthy of receiving a true battle" The dragon said to their once servant. "Begone and do not appear in front of me again... Unless you wish to be crushed into crumbs." Once the snake ran away their attention was back to the other dragons, Pitaya Dragon Cookie being the first talk- or well.. Yell.

"I knew that sssnake would lose right away! Now it'sss our turn." They said, seemingly wanting nothing more than to fight Longan Dragon Cookie as quick as possible, but the mentioned didn't seem to be bothered by it.

"My brethren, it's been a while." Longan said before turning their head to look at the main crew, its expression no longer having that peculiar light it had when talking to the cookie with seeds in their hair. "But before we... Catch up, there seems to be some tiny meddlers to deal with." Even the smallest glance of Longan Dragon Cookie seemed enough to make the cookies shake in fear, the weight of that look was horrible. The dragon then turned their attention to other figure none of them noticed before and before someone could react chains emerged from the floating island, chaining the Ivory Dragon and slamming them to the ground.

"Longan Dragon! I've returned to put and end to your reign" Every other cookie in the place looked around, trying to spot the (probably) next dead cookie. You revealed yourself, taking off your cloak and showing your similarity to the Ivory Dragon itself. "The strong are supposed to protect the weak, not destroy them! And if you can't do that then your child is going to do it. Even if that means fighting you too."

"Wait.. Longan had a child?!" You heard Pitaya Dragon ask to the others; the cookies shrugged but Lotus Dragon nodded. "I've heard of them, never seen them though." Ananas Dragon grumbled in annoyance at that. "You could've just tell us you know Lotus?"

Before anything else could be said a big thunder almost hit you but you managed to block it with your scythe, deflecting it to the sea below. "It's saddening seeing you align with these.. Pests, I taught you better, to be the one who would help with the reconstruction of this world. What a shame." At the sight of the pale dragon getting up the smaller cookies ran away, letting the work of defeat the threat to the other dragons and you. "Of course-" You thought to yourself, sighing a bit. "I'm trying to defend your race and you just leave.." It didn't matter anymore, you prepared yourself and saw the others do that as well.

"The small cookies are escaping... Such insignificant struggles. See my child? That's their nature as the weak species they are. I would not forgive this transgression so easily but it's the first time in a millennium we're together again." They seemed to be calm once more, that was not a good signal "Shall we move to our introductions?"

Before you could even open your mouth the red dragon yelled. "What introductionsss are you taking about?! Sssince when do we need all that?!" Of course Longan, not bothered by Pitaya's behavior continued to speak, even if that made the said dragon fumble under their breath. "The Lychee Dragon seems more quiet than usual.. I assume you're the reason of that." You tried to speak again but was interrupted by Lotus this time, the only thing you did then was crossing your arms and joining Pitaya in the 'Why is everyone ignoring me?' angry club. "That dragon got in our way. Surely that fact shouldn't surprise you, given what happened in the days of old." At that simple mention happy memories started to flood your mind, so much you had to shake your head. "See? That's exactly the reason of this problem, you all just see for yourselves! We're strong and the strong should protect the weak!" To be honest all four seemed to disagree with that, specially Longan and Lychee. "To see our great kin stand side-by-side with those insignificant specks of grain called cookies.. You disappoint me DC/N." Your full name, oh that was no good either.

"Well we had to align with cookies to survive! We would-" You were interrupted AGAIN this time by Ananas who pointed a finger at your direction. "Talk for you! I never allied with those cookies, my only goal it's go return my island to what it once was."

"Where'sss the fun of removing all the cookiesss?! At least leassst leave the ssstrong onesss for me!" Well.. They didn't say yes to a total genocide, maybe you could work with that.

"I do not care if we are dragons alike. I cannot forgive the destruction of my palace." A bit egocentric as well but maybe you could work with that too! Or not, seeing all three fly towards Longan. Pitaya (as usual) being the most exited to do so. "At leasst! We get to fight! I wasss growing tired of waiting!" "Why are you like this?" You asked, following the three of them.

"There is so much to reconstruct on my island. Let's get this over with." The golden one said and you just tried to see the positive side of all this.. Until Lotus talked too. "I did not expect to come fight you here." You resist the urge to facepalm you. "It's truly a shame to see you merely chasing what is right in front of your eyes. You must learn to show restraint.. And sacrifice what you have for a brighter future, isn't that right DC/N?" They were talking about.. No, they wouldn't be so cruel.. Would they? "Nevermind.. You all are the same.. I'll show you how wrong you are Longan." You gripped your scythe as thight as you can before the Ivory one talked again. "Alright then. Show me the extent of your determination.. It will not matter, my plans are infallible."

[breithenua]

I'd love to see a fanfic of Naruto in which Fugaku was made Hokage, but not the 4th instead of Minato like I see examples of on YT. Instead I want to see one where he becomes the 5th Hokage after Minato's death, because Fugaku disobeys the orders from the top to patrol the borders during the Nine Tails attack, and actually goes and helps subdue the Nine Tails himself.

How I personally could see it happening, though obviously someone writing said fanfic would make their own version of events: Technically this *should* result in him being disciplined for disobeying orders, but the majority of the village is way too grateful to him and the other Uchiha for the top brass to dare trying to discipline him, especially with the entire Uchiha clan being behind him. Maybe Hiruzen himself looks at the situation after the fact as a whole and decides he was wrong to go along with Danzo's idea to keep the Uchiha away from the Nine Tails during the attack.

Why does Minato still die in this scenario? Someone still has to seal the Nine Tails again, and we know he's already low enough on chakra at this point from having to have fought Obito/"Madara" by himself that he can't seal the entirety of Kurama inside Naruto, only half, and has to use the Reaper Death Seal to seal the other half.

Difference is since Fugaku and other Uchiha helped subdue Kurama faster, Minato and Kushina don't have to be turned into a shishkabob defending Naruto from Kurama's toenail, and the damage from Kurama himself is minimized a lot more. Minato still dies, and ultimately Kushina's gonna die too since Kurama was extracted from her, but she at the very least lives long enough to tell Hiruzen and the other elders what happened. Best case scenario, she lives for maybe 5-10 years afterward (remember, Mito, Hashirama's wife lived for 10 years after Kurama was extracted from her, and she was already elderly at that point). This means Naruto has at least one parent for at least part of his early childhood. Someone to stick up for Naruto and not tolerate the terrible job Hiruzen did of keeping his promise to Minato to look out for Naruto.

Since Kushina would live longer in this scenario and be able to tell the others what would happen, it would mean the top brass could make the same deduction that Minato made, that it was "Uchiha Madara". This means they can't as easily try to blame the Uchiha that are still living in the village, especially when they helped subdue Kurama (though Danzo would fucking try. God he's the worst). The "realization"/assumption that it was Madara and he's not only still alive but still strong enough at his age to fight the 4th AND control Kurama, and seeming to not have aged at all, would motivate Konoha to REALLY start taking military precautions to get stronger and concentrate on finding ways to fight him off the next time he shows up. This includes looking at living Uchiha members as possible counters to Madara himself, namely *Fugaku*. The man that did the most in this scenario to stop Kurama's rampage. They'd be very motivated in this case to name him as Minato's successor in this case. Protecting Naruto and training him becomes an even higher priority, not knowing when "Madara" would come back to try again (not knowing Minato was able to permanently sever his connection to Kurama with that sealing jutsu, Minato maybe didn't have time to relay that information). Either way, they know that the jinchuuriki of Kurama is a target by outside forces. This also puts more pressure on the top brass to make sure an Uchiha member is near Naruto all the time to make sure he doesn't lose control of Kurama, as he's trained to control Kurama.

Fugaku being Minato's successor would also put pressure on Fugaku to fulfill Minato's dying wishes to protect and take care of Naruto. Maybe once Kushina ultimately does die from having Kurama extracted from her, he and Mikoto personally adopt him and raise him, with a significant amount of pressure on Fugaku from Mikoto herself (as we know she was friends with Kushina). I think Fugaku would be a bit of a less strict father in this scenario as he's not under pressure from the rest of the clan to *literally overthrow the Leaf Village's government*. Itachi and Sasuke essentially have a 3rd sibling now to grow up with that depends on them to keep him in check, but also keeps him from being lonely. He also grows up knowing who his parents are, has talented adopted brothers to train with (though he'll still be a late bloomer to an extent, I don't think he'll be the literal laughingstock of the Academy considering he'll have actual support, self-confidence and validation from his adopted family). Though maybe Naruto's identity as a jinchuuriki and the 4th's son is still kept secret from the village as a whole. Or maybe just the fact that he's a jinchuuriki, but people still know he's the 4th's son. Up to the writer, honestly. It makes sense why Hiruzen wanted his identity kept secret to protect Naruto in the original canon, afterall. But either way, Naruto would actually know the truth.

In this case, perhaps Hiruzen *actually* acts as sort of a grandfather-like figure to Naruto as well instead of just being an old man that pays for his groceries or talks to him every once in a while. Maybe he does a little training of Naruto (and by extension Sasuke and maybe even Itachi himself, seeing as he's not preoccupied with being Hokage again).

Maybe Hiruzen actually makes time to guilt Jiraiya to come and meet his god-son once in a while. This results in Naruto going to Mount Myoboku sooner in the timeline (seeing as his father presumably went as well, having Toad sage mode and frog summons himself, it'd make sense to establish that tie with Naruto too), though I don't think his training there would happen that much faster. At most he gets Sage mode a year sooner. If you really stretch it then maybe a year and a half to 2 years sooner. Afterall, this is still Naruto, and he's still a gigantic ball of ADHD energy. You'd still have to send someone with a sharingan with him just to be cautious of course. This could be how Naruto meets Kakashi. Afterall, he has a Sharingan, was anbu for much of his teen/early adult years, was Minato's student, and by extension knew Jiraiya as well. I think Fugaku as Hokage (and adopted father to Naruto) would find that fitting when authorizing such a trip.

Speaking of Fugaku as Hokage, there would be some changes of course. Starting with there being more Uchiha in Anbu ranks, maybe with allowing non-Uchiha into the ranks of the Konoha Military Police force as a balance to pacify the elders that would be against this (and because I think Fugaku would realize that letting the Uchiha and non-Uchiha mingle more would be better for the village in the long run), and the Anbu and Military police would work together more harmoniously.

Danzo would probably still try to assassinate the Hokage, it'd just be Fugaku instead, snd for a different reason: Danzo's hate and jealousy of the Uchiha. He'd be even angrier thanks to the exact opposite of what he wanted to do happening after the Nine Tails attack, too. And unlike Hiruzen, Fugaku probably wouldn't be nearly as lenient. He's a ninja cop afterall. Danzo would at the very least be imprisoned for life, and made to divulge everything he knows (as well as losing that fucking Hashirama cell arm and however many stolen Sharingan he had at that point). As much as I'd personally like for Danzo to be summarily executed, that's probably not what would happen. But lifetime imprisonment is a good alternative. The Root would definitely be disbanded as a result as well. And as a result of Danzo and the Root's secrets being divulged sooner, a little more would be known about Hashirama cells a la Danzo's weird-ass arm. Maybe said research could be used to stave off the blindness that comes later on with the Mangekyo Sharingan, and/or Kakashi's stamina issues with his own Sharingan could be somewhat alleviated with said research. Not a lot since Tsunade isn't there, but a little bit.

Speaking of Tsunade, you can bet your ass when Itachi gets his chakra illness that Fugaku would send people to find Tsunade to have her treat him. Afterall, Itachi couldn't exactly find the best medical care in the canon timeline because of his status as a missing-nin/notorious criminal and mass-murderer of his own clan. In this scenario Itachi would have had no reason to carry out the Uchiha clan downfall, so he'd have access to legitimate medical care. Would Tsunade be able to save his life? I don't know. She'd almost certainly be able to prolong it or make him more comfortable without reducing his combat capabilities nearly as much, though.

Maybe through dealing with Tsunade and her fear of blood, some investigation into the Sharingan's uses for hypnosis/psychotherapy would be suggested. Seriously it's amazing how well the Sharingan could have been used for dealing with people's mental health issues, with it's uses of genjutsu, hypnosis, etc. It's too bad we never got to see those sorts of applications in the main timeline.

I might add more to this later today, but I'm tired and need a slight bit more sleep before my class today so for now this is where I leave it.

[welcometojackass2022]

Hot and Ready, Just Like Our Pizza (Sub!Raab x Reader) [Smut] (Jackass, CKY, Viva La Bam)

Just a stupid idea I came up with after I learned about Raab’s short time as a pizza delivery boy. Apparently he’d have Bam and Dico accompany him at night while he’d knock down the mailboxes of the people who didn’t tip him. This takes place in the early 2000s, long after his job as a pizza delivery boy, so I imagine this roleplay scenario as him living out a fantasy of what he wishes would have happened while he actually had that job. I believe the 2nd and 3rd GIFS are from my favorite girl @lovelyra so thank you as always :)

Description: It’s just like one of those cheesy pornos from the 80s. You’ve ordered a pizza, but when the delivery boy, Raab, gets to your house, you discover that you only have enough cash to pay for the pizza and not enough to give him a tip. Perhaps he’ll accept another form of payment?

Warnings: Female Reader, Cursing, Smut, Sub Boy/Dom Girl Dynamics, Roleplay, Pizza Delivery Man Roleplay, You offer to pay the pizza delivery boy with something other than money and he says yes because of course he does, This whole situation is wish fulfillment on Raab’s part, Raab addresses you as ma’am the whole time

@asskickedbygirl @butttxray @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll

Ding-Dong. Ding-Dong. Ding-Dong.

Your doorbell rang three times, and you paused the movie you were watching to peer out of your living room window, slightly annoyed by the loud disturbance. Through the window, you could see that a skinny boy with long, slightly messy hair was standing on your doorstep with a look that was a mix of nervousness and impatience. He wore a wrinkled long-sleeved shirt with the name of a pizza place emblazoned across the front of it, and he was holding a box of pizza in his hands. “Oh shit, finally!” You’d been waiting for that pizza for what felt like an hour. You checked your watch and, sure enough, it had been an hour. No wonder the poor guy looked so nervous; he probably thought you were gonna yell at him for being late. Lucky for him, you weren’t the type of asshole to yell at a food service worker over something as insignificant as cold pizza. You stood up from the couch and made your way over to the front door, pulling out the $10 in cash from your pocket you’d gotten out so you wouldn’t have to fumble around for it, and then you opened the door right as the pizza boy was moving to ring the doorbell again.

He quickly straightened up, the impatience fading away to be replaced with pure nervousness as he spoke. “Uh, hello ma’am. Here’s your pizza. Sorry for the wait, I got stuck in traffic.” He handed you the box, and you smiled reassuringly. “No worries! You made it here, that’s all that matters. $10 plus tip, right?” The pizza boy shook his head. “Don’t worry about the tip, ma’am, you don’t have to give me one since I was so late.” You smiled. “I’m still gonna give you a tip, sweetie, I’m not a dick. You got the pizza here, didn’t you? That deserves a tip, as far as I’m concerned.” Your reassurances were enough to calm him down, and his nervous look quickly disappeared as a sweet little smile spread over his face. “You’re nice, ma’am. Usually people just yell at me and slam the door in my face when I’m late.” You shook your head with a frown. “People like that are just assholes, don’t let them get to you. Here, I’ve already got the $10 for the pizza right here, and then I can just grab the tip from my wallet for you—oh shit. Where is my wallet?” You handed the pizza boy the $10 bill for the pizza as you felt around your pockets for your wallet, which you were certain you’d had on you just a few minutes earlier. It wasn’t in any of your pockets, it wasn’t tucked into your waistband, and it wasn’t on the couch where you’d just been sitting. “Fuck. Where did it go? I haven’t left the living room all day, it’s gotta be here somewhere.”

Your heart sank as you realized your wallet was most likely lost; you weren’t particularly worried for yourself, since it had to be somewhere in the living room and that meant there wasn’t a whole lot of space you’d have to cover to find it, but you were worried for the pizza boy. You’d promised him a tip, after all, and expecting him to stand on your doorstep for the next thirty minutes so you could find your wallet to give him said tip seemed like a lot to ask of a stressed out delivery boy. You bit your lip, leaning against the frame of the front door as you tried to decide how to fix this messy situation. The pizza boy awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide his disappointment as he mumbled a reassurance. “It’s fine, ma’am. Like I said, I was late. You don’t have to tip me anyway.” You shook your head, crossing your arms. “No, no way am I letting you walk away without some kind of tip. Let me think.” You racked your brain for any other sources of money that you may have had; any dollars in a drawer? Any jars full of quarters? Surely you had a least a little money laying around somewhere in the house. As you thought about it, you glanced up at the pizza boy, who was staring at your breasts; clearly, he had assumed that you wouldn’t notice where he was looking. Crossing your arms had accentuated them, and now the poor boy couldn’t seem to take his eyes off them. Interesting. Maybe I can do something with this.

You decided to test his interest a little further; you purposefully crossed your arms even more so as to push them together, leaning forward a little bit so he could just barely see down your shirt. Sure enough, the delivery boy’s eyes widened, and his eyes remained fixed on your chest, the slightest hint of a bulge appearing in his jeans. That was all the confirmation you needed to decide how you were gonna tip him. Offering to have sex with the pizza man as a tip was the type of cheesy, cliched move that was usually reserved for bad 80s porno films, but at this point you didn’t really care. You needed something to tip him with, and if that was sex, then so be it. Besides, he was pretty cute, and he seemed like a sweet guy, so it wasn’t like you were gonna have to force yourself to pretend to be attracted to him. “Maybe I could tip you in another way?” You leaned even further forward to give him a better view down your shirt, and his bulge became even bigger, his breath hitching as he tried to tear his gaze away from your breasts long enough to look up at you. “Huh? Oh, uh, sure ma’am. What other way are you thinking?” You could see the slightest glimmer of excitement in his eyes, like he wanted sex to be a possibility but didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. “Well…I was thinking maybe you could come inside for a few minutes and I could…play with you for a bit.” You smiled suggestively at him as you spoke, your eyes fixed on the sight of his cock hardening even more through his jeans as he crossed his legs in a desperate attempt to hide how aroused he was.

His eyes went even wider than they already were, and his face became a deep shade of red as he realized what you were implying. “You mean like…sexually?” You grinned. “Yes, sweetie, sexually. If you don’t want to then that’s fine, but if you’re into it then by all means let’s do it.” The delivery boy thought it over for a moment, nearly shaking from how excited he was at the offer, and then he fervently nodded. “Yes, ma’am, that sounds nice.” You smiled. “Great! Here, come on in, sweetie.” You led him inside, setting the pizza down on your kitchen table and motioning for him to sit down on the couch, which he eagerly did. “Oh, by the way, what’s your name sweetie? This might get a little awkward if I don’t know what to call you.” He grinned bashfully, leaning back against the couch and letting his black uniform shirt ride up just enough to expose a sliver of his flat belly. “Oh right, sorry. You can call me Raab.” You made your way back over to the couch and sat down beside him, close enough to make him feel comfortable but not close enough to make him feel like you were trying to rush him. He seemed a little antsy still, like he was nervous, and you leaned over to push his hair out of his face reassuringly. “Are you okay? You can back out, you know, I’m sure I’ve got actual money lying around the house in some odd spot if you’d rather take that.” Raab quickly shook his head. “No, ma’am, I really wanna do this. No one’s ever offered this before, so this is kind of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You’re also really hot. Sorry, was that disrespectful?”

You laughed. “No, Raab, that wasn’t disrespectful at all. You’re really hot too. Anyway, why don’t we get those tight jeans off first? The button looks like it’s gonna snap off from how hard your cock is right now, poor thing must feel so trapped.” Raab glanced down at his prominent bulge, his cheeks going slightly pink with embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry ma’am. You leaned forward earlier and I saw down your shirt, I swear I wasn’t trying to but—” You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him closer so his upper body was pressed against yours. When he pulled away, his eyes darted down to take in the full view he had down your shirt, and you led his hands up to grab at your breasts through the soft fabric of your t-shirt. “You don’t have to be sorry for looking at them, Raab, I’m glad you like them. Do you wanna see them without the shirt?” He nodded eagerly, sitting up against the couch and pushing up his long black sleeves, and you grabbed the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled it off, tossing it aside and grabbing Raab’s hands again to let him play with your bare boobs. As his fingers wandered over your nipples, you moved your own hands down to unbutton his tight jeans, unzipping his fly and reaching into his boxers to pull his hard cock out. It was cute and pink and just the right size to fit in your hand, and you gave it a few quick, teasing pumps as you admired it. He whined softly, bucking his hips up against your touch. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.” You glanced up at him inquisitively. “What do you mean, sweetie?” You briefly removed your hand.

Raab’s face went red, and he desperately reached for your hand, trying to get you to start touching him again. “I’m about to get fucked by a pretty girl as a tip for my lame-ass pizza job. I just never thought I’d be this lucky.” You smiled, wrapping your hand around his cock again to touch him like he wanted. “I’m surprised no one’s offered this before, considering how cute you are.” His hands continued to play with your bare boobs, squishing and squeezing the soft skin and curiously rubbing over your hard nipples; after a moment or two, he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, glancing up at you for approval, and when you nodded, he gently wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub, suckling on your nipple as he stared up at you with a vulnerable look. Soft little whimpers escaped his mouth every time your hand swiped over his slick cock head, and it made you want to get into fucking him even quicker just so you could hear what sounds he’d be making when your pussy was around his cock. He quickly switched to the other nipple and sucked on it with just as much enthusiasm, his lips wet and red with saliva, and you only gave him a few seconds to linger there before you pulled him off to kiss you again, pushing your tongue into his mouth as you grabbed at the hem of his uniform shirt and tugged it upwards; you pulled away long enough to help him take his shirt off, and then he hungrily pressed his lips to yours once more, letting you explore his bare chest with one hand and jerk him off at a slow, sensual, teasing pace with the other.

Raab pushed his hips up long enough to pull his boxers and jeans all the way down his legs and onto the floor, all without breaking the kiss, and then his hands wandered down to your pants, his fingers shakily unbuttoning and unzipping them and helping you lift up so he could pull them all the way down to your ankles; you kicked them off and then broke the kiss to see his reaction. The poor boy couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you in nothing but your panties, and his cock seemed to become impossibly harder within your grip, beads of precum leaking from his red tip as he stared at you wide-eyed and mouth agape. You giggled at his shocked look, leaning over to grab his hand and guide it down between your legs, motioning for him to rub your pussy through the thin material of your panties. As cute as it was to see him so shocked, the fact that you were both nearly naked was making you slightly impatient from how badly you wanted to fuck him right then and there. Raab gently rubbed at your clit through the panties, clearly a little nervous and not wanting to do something wrong, and you parted your thighs to give him a little more access to your pussy. He cautiously pulled your panties aside, glancing up at you once again for approval, and then he gently pushed one of his fingertips inside you, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness wrapped around his finger. You let him explore for a moment, pushing his finger further inside you and twisting it around to rub your clit.

“Are you ready for your tip, sweetie? You ready to fuck my pussy?” Raab nodded eagerly, pulling his fingers away and moving to get on top of you, but you stopped him. “I’ve got a better position we can try.” You climbed into his lap, facing him and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock to hold it steady as you lowered yourself down until your dripping wet entrance was just barely hovering above his tip. Raab’s eyes were locked on your pussy, a look of anticipation on his face as he waited for you to take his cock. He instinctively gripped your hips, subconsciously trying to pull you all the way down onto his cock from just how impatient he was, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you lowered yourself down onto his cock head. The second he felt your warm, wet cunt wrapped around his tip, Raab’s mouth fell open, his head falling back against the couch as his grip on your hips tightened. “Holy shit, that feels so good, ma’am, keep going.” You sank even further down on his cock, pausing to adjust to the feeling of it stretching you out, and Raab pulled your body towards him to bury his face between your boobs, soft moans leaving his mouth as he felt your pussy enveloping more and more of his thick shaft. His hands pushed down on your hips, helping you take his cock all the way to the base, and you purposefully tightened up around his shaft, grinning when his eyes nearly rolled back in his head and another soft whimper left his lips. You started to move, but he stopped you, wanting to enjoy the feeling of your pussy completely engulfing his cock from tip to base.

You patiently waited, giving him a little time to get used to the sensation, and then you held onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself all the way up off his cock, teasing the tip of his cock with the lips of your dripping wet pussy, making him whine impatiently as he waited for you to take his aching cock once again. “Shh, be patient, sweetie. You don’t wanna speed through your tip, do you?” He shook his head. “No, sorry ma’am. It just feels really good, I want your pussy back on my cock so badly.” You nodded, soothingly stroking his hair. “I know, sweetie, I know. Don’t be sorry. Come here, let me give you something to distract yourself with.” You guided his mouth back down to your nipple and he obediently suckled on it, just barely bucking his hips up out of desperation for friction, his cock bobbing around as he waited for you to finally sink back down on it. You held a firm grip on his shaft, holding it in place as you rubbed the wet folds of your pussy over his cock head once again, waiting until precum was dripping from his tip and his legs were practically shaking to finally lower yourself back onto his cock, bouncing up and down on his shaft to ride him as you grabbed onto his shoulders for support. Raab gasped against your nipple, saliva spilling from his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned loudly at the overwhelming pleasure of your slick wet cunt engulfing his sensitive cock, and he pulled away to press fervent kisses to your boobs as he jerked his hips up to push his cock deeper inside you.

“Please go faster, ma’am, I need to cum so bad—” Raab buried his face in your neck with a whine as you tightened up around his cock, his fingernails digging into your hips as he humped his hips up against you, his tip pressing against your sensitive spot as you quickened your pace like he’d begged you to do. You pulled on and off his cock, raking your fingernails down his toned back as you rode his cock at a quick, steady pace, eyes focused on Raab’s face for any signs that he was closer to his orgasm; his breathing was heavy, his face a bright red shade and his hair messy as he thrust his hips up against you, lips slightly parted and eyes still squeezed shut as he desperately groped at every part of your body he could reach. You took his cock all the way to the hilt and stopped again to rub your clit against the tip of his cock, bringing yourself just as close to cumming as he was, and then you slammed down on the full length of his shaft one more time, clenching up around him and reaching your orgasm right as he came with a shuddery gasp, throwing his head back against the couch and bucking his hips up as you milked his cock dry. His load was massive; by the time he finished, his cum had completely filled your pussy and was dripping down your thighs, a look of pure ecstasy mixed with exhaustion on his face as he laid back against the couch with a soft groan, his cock still inside you as it softened. “Fuck, ma’am, you’re a very generous tipper.” You giggled, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips as you pulled off of him and got up from the couch to grab a towel.

You cleaned the cum off your thighs and off of his cock, helpfully smoothing down Raab’s messy hair, and then you dropped it in the laundry bin and helped the awestruck delivery boy to his feet. “Here, sweetie, I’ll help you put your clothes back on.” You dutifully helped him with his pants and his uniform shirt, rubbing your fingers over his flushed cheeks to soothe them, and after a brief moment of the two of you staring at each other, you leaned over to give him another soft kiss, his hands running up your still-bare sides tenderly as he pulled away with a grin. “You’ll order another pizza soon, right?” You laughed as you walked him to the door. “Of course I will, sweetie. The one I ordered today is probably cold now that I think about it, being left on the table for so long, so maybe I’ll order another one tomorrow to make up for that.” His face lit up, and he nodded with a lovestruck look. “Sounds good, ma’am. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll lose your wallet again.” You smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe. You better be getting back, though. Your boss is probably wondering where you are.” He nodded. “Right. I’ll tell him I got stuck in traffic. Listen…this was really nice. And you really are beautiful, ma’am. Thanks for…you know. My tip.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly as he made his way through the door, and you waved goodbye to him with a smirk. “Anytime, sweetie. Drive back safely.” You closed the front door, paused for a moment, and then opened it again. Raab was standing there with a massive grin on his face. “How did I do?” You pulled him back inside and hugged him tight, kissing him on the cheek affectionately. “You did amazing, baby, that was so unbelievably hot I’m not even sure how to explain it.”

Raab blushed, taking off the uniform shirt he’d kept from his days as an actual pizza boy and tossing it on the couch, and then he made his way over to the box of pizza on the table and opened it to grab a slice. “I’ll say. God, I wish a girl had actually tipped me like that when I really was a pizza guy, maybe I wouldn’t have knocked down so many mailboxes. The best tip I ever got was $10 and a coupon for a free Subway sandwich.” You laughed, grabbing your clothes off the floor to put them back on as you closed the front door. “Wow, really? People are such cheapskates. If it makes you feel better, I definitely would have tipped you like that if you’d shown up at my front door with a pizza.” Raab grinned. “I probably would have been obsessed with you if you did. Instead of knocking down your mailbox, I would have made Bam and Dico come with me to leave flowers on your doorstep every night, that’s how annoying I was back then.” You hugged him from behind, shaking your head. “You weren’t annoying baby, I’m sure of it. If a guy had left flowers on my doorstep like that, I would have thought it was really cute. Cuter than knocking my mailbox down, anyway. So, what should we roleplay as next? Any other miserable low-paying jobs you worked? I’ve got an idea: rich man’s lonely wife and the handsome construction worker who’s doing renovations on her mansion.” Raab raised his eyebrows and glanced over at his pizza boy uniform. “We’re gonna need more costumes.”