#rich men are evil. he's disgustingly evil

[liesmyth]

everything I learn about Elon Musk is against my will but it's also fucking terrifying

[devotedfem]

«American Psycho»

Synopsis: In the 80's, there's a group of wealthy succesful wall streeter men that are disgustingly greedy. They maintain an appearance of perfection, but they're narcissistic, egomaniacal, competitive and murderers. Unlucky for you, they got infatuated on you, competing with each other to have you.

Hyung line (poly) x f. Reader

4.6K words.

Genre: inspired by American psycho (2000) | yander-ish.

Tags: American psycho au, power imbalance, 80's New York, Period Typical Sexism, murder, rich and powerful hyung line, classic wealthy corporate men, greed for money, college student reader, reader has grey morals, a little bit of gore but just at the beginning, savage capitalism, overworking, yandere hyung line, they're not good people, psychopaths and evil hyung line (but they have a soft spot for reader), end game poly relationship, possessive behavior, dubious consent (because of power imbalance), double penetration (you've been warned lol).

From the series masterlist; Final girl.

Navigation Masterlist.

a/n: this contain very sensitive and triggering topics, like classism and sexism, the movie was inspired by a book that wanted to critize the image of the priviledge american man. I don't agree with any of the triggering topics here, this is fiction, so please read with caution.

Seokjin put off his face mask to apply his expensive cream on his skin. His face was straight and indifferent, bored even. He styled his hair with gel and he put on his luxurious dress suit, ignoring the gagged sounds of the annoying man tied to a chair in his penthouse.

Seokjin stared down at him without lowering his chin, lifting a brow with displeasure. That man looked too dirty for his polished place.

He grabbed his brand-new axe, covering his body with a plastic protective suit.

The tied and gagged man widened his eyes with horror, shaking his head and wailing with fear, getting nothing in return but a bored expression from Seokjin.

“This will teach you to not bother me. You’re not on the same level as me, you thought you could outdo me? Playing your tricks in my company? Don’t you know what I’m capable of?” Something evil and dark gleamed in his eyes, it was the only emotion he showed since the tied man met him. And it was frightening.

The polished porcelain floor got stained by blood, sparking Seokjin’s evil face. The man’s head rolled out of his body to Seokjin’s brand-new dress shoes.

The taller wrinkled his nose with disgust, annoyed because he has to change his favorite shoes.

“What a burden,” he whispered to himself with a deep sigh.

Meanwhile, in the building next door was Yoongi nursing a drink of his expensive whisky. His mahogany office was barely illuminated because of the curtains hiding the view of New York. Some of his employees say between whispers that the CEO acted like a vampire.

“I-I did what you asked me to, sir,” the employee in front of him trembled with anxiety, intimidated by Yoongi’s heavy gaze.

Yoongi lifted a corner of his lips in a disdain way, his eyes darkening with anger.

“And you think that following my orders like a moron means that you did a good job?” He spat furious, throwing his whiskey glass, shattering it next to the employee’s head.

The man shrinks violently, and he did something pitiful even for Yoongi’s taste. The man dropped to his knees, looking at his boss with pleading eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, I need this job to pay my bills or I’ll be on the streets,” he said with desperation and teared eyes.

Flames of satisfaction and power raises to Yoongi’s lungs. He enjoyed watching the kind of power he holds over other people, it was a shame that his employees were so dumb and inefficient, because he did pay very well to them. So, to him it was reasonable to be demanding, after all it was his money at stake.

Yoongi walked slowly towards the knelt man, with a smirk growing on his lips. Then he took out his gun silencer shooting the man to the head, making his body fall to the side silently.

“One less idiot,” he murmured to himself, nursing another glass of whiskey.

And there it was Namjoon and Hoseok, the feared duo of executives. They were ruthless on their work, the definition of competitive successful man. The greedy representation of privileged man who are at the top of the food chain in the patriarchal New York society of the 80’s.

They were at an executive meeting, looking at each other with knowing smirks, making everyone in the room nervous and tense. Because they haven’t said a single word since the proposal of their work partners.

And they still kept quiet at the end of the meeting, glancing at everyone with boredom, getting out of the room without saying goodbye. After all they have better things to do.

“What a bunch of idiots,” Hoseok huffs rolling his eyes with annoyance. Namjoon chuckled nodding his head.

“I already send the order to kill them,” Namjoon said with a grin.

Anyone that dares to do as much as wasting their time, will get erased.

And there it was you.

A New York student that has to deal with college and rent.

This city was expensive, and you were just a middle-class girl with dreams. You worked many parts time jobs to support yourself and prove to your family that you don’t need to marry a man to be happy, you can be an independent woman.

Well, that was easier to say than to do, it was hard to pay your bills and tuition without anyone’s help. You were exhausted and full of debts. You sighed deep, maybe if you marry rich then you wouldn’t have to worry about these things, but you were too proud to admit that out loud. You have to be the change you want to see in the world, don’t you? You say that to yourself to feel better, and to not to be on the verge of mental breakdown.

You feel like crying, until some miracle happened to you.

You founded 3 job offers as an assistant for 4 men. And the best part of it? Is that the four of them gave you the job. And the pay was quite generous.

They don’t have to know that you’ll be the assistant of other people at the same time, you’ll manage. You’d do anything for money at this point, even if that means overworking yourself.

You got ready for your first day, wearing your nicest pencil skirt and doing your hair in a slick bun. You looked pretty decent, ready to be eaten by corporate men.

You divide your schedule in three, you spent all night making the perfect schedule. You were lucky that those men worked in nearby buildings, otherwise your plan would’ve been impossible.

7:00 am to 11:00 am; Kim Seokjin.

You sighed deep, trying to control your nerves. You knew that the rich men of wall street are insufferable and labor exploiters, so you did prepare mentally for any kind of abuse, you need the money.

You knocked once, twice, but you didn’t receive an answer.

You waited 15 minutes in front of Seokjin’s door, you wanted to cry and break down the door. Your time was gold, literally.

And then a tall handsome man greets you, his face was impassive and serious, like if he has a stick up his ass. But you couldn’t help but feel a little bit intimidated by his heavy and cold gaze fixated on you. He stared down at your body without lowering his chin, with square shoulders and a straight posture. He looked composed in a frightening way. You gulped nervous, trying to give him a smile and swallow your insults.

“Good morning Mr. Kim, it’s a pleasure to meet you, i-“

You were interrupted by him rudely turning around and leaving you alone in the hallway, standing with your lips parted like a fish.

What an ass.

He was way worse than you think.

You sighed deep entering his penthouse, you have no choice but to bear with his attitude, the pay was too good unfortunately.

You cleared your throat taking your notebook out of your bag.

“So, Mr. Kim, I need to know more details about your daily routine and schedule, anything will help,” you said clicking your pen and looking at him expectably.

He arched a brow, looking genuinely pissed. You frowned confused, you didn’t know why that man was so annoyed by your existence.

“I didn’t hire you to be this irritating, stop asking questions and figure it out,” he almost snarled the last words, turning around to fix his tie in front of his living room mirror.

You again, parted your lips. You bit your tongue hard, tasting your iron blood. You wanted to punch that rude ass man, but you just couldn’t. You were powerless right now.

So you sighed again, with a fake and tense smile on your face.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you Mr. Kim, I just want to make my job right. If you please could provide me with your valuable information so I can do the best job you definitely deserve.”

Seokjin went rigid at your words, turning around to look at you with fury and disbelief in his eyes, it was the first emotion he showed to you.

“Are you… are you being sarcastic to me? Don’t fucking get smart with me!”

You widened your eyes at his shout, it was such a rare sight to see him this affected. You won’t lie, it was a bit funny to watch how you can get under his skin so easily. But offending him wasn’t your intention, you don’t want to get fire on your first day of work.

“I would never, sir,” you said trying to not sound bitter, but Seokjin’s narrowed eyes told you that he didn’t believe you.

“Watch your mouth.” He barked, and you almost roll your eyes.

“Please, I just need to know some details of your schedule, then you will never hear my annoying voice again, i swear. I just want to do a good job for a man like you,” your eye almost twitch by your own disgusting words, you felt like a bootlicker, but you have no choice.

Your dignity will not pay your bills.

That eased Seokjin’s tensed shoulder, his eyes softening just a little bit.

“Fine,” he said rolling his eyes.

And he did help you with information about his schedule, you made a list of his priorities and things you should do and not do. Your smile was too big to hide, you definitely can handle this! Not even a jerk like Seokjin will stop you from earning that good money.

“Thanks! I’ll be out of your hair Mr. Kim, you won’t even notice I’m here,” you said grinning ear to ear, maybe you looked insane smiling so happily at a man that treated you so poorly, but you didn’t care.

Seokjin blinked a little taken aback, but you watched how a small smile curled up on his lips.

“It’ll be difficult not to,” he teased you before turning around and fixing his tie again. You stand there speechless.

Surprisingly, it was way creepier to watch him tease you and smile instead of insulting you.

The moment that your watch struck 11 in the morning, you literally ran to the next building where your next boss works.

His building was cold and almost empty, the people there were pretty quiet and distant, you felt shivers when you knocked Mr. Yoongi’s door.

“Come in,” a deep voice said at the other side of the door. At least he doesn’t ignore you like Seokjin.

You entered his office, forcing yourself not to drool by the beauty and luxury of this place. Everything looked so expensive.

“Hello Mr. Yoongi. I’m your new assistant, it’s nice to meet you.” You felt a little bit intimidated by the heavy and dark gaze of Yoongi, his pale face and black suit made him look like a vampire.

Until now, he didn’t act rude towards you, but he sure as hell didn’t seem nice.

He was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, not breaking his piercing stare from you. One of his hands was holding a liquor glass, that must have been the first red flag.

“Before we start, you have to know that if you do as much as bother me, or screw up your work, I’m going to finish you. Literally and figurately.” He threatened with a gulp of his drink. His dark gaze piercing you while the liquor went down his throat.

Your chest deflated with disappointment, your hope of working with a decent man crashed immediately.

You weren’t scared at all by his threat. You know these types of man are powerful and dangerous, you couldn’t risk pissing off one of them without consequences, you live in a patriarchal society so you won’t be fooled by the thought that they’ll play fair. You weren’t dumb, and you know how to play your cards right.

“Good to know Mr. Yoongi. I appreciate when my bosses are direct with me, makes my job easier. Could you please tell me more details about your schedule? So I can get to work and not waste more of your time.” Your clicked pen was the only sound in the quiet office.

Yoongi’s eyes widened just for a split second. But he composed himself by clearing his throat and giving you information that would make your work easier.

You get to work in silence in Yoongi’s office, you felt his heavy stare on your body, but you ignored him, focused on your papers.

It was a bit creepy the way his eyes would follow you across the office, but you can bear a creep man if he pays as half as good as Yoongi do.

Unbeknownst to you, the paled man smirked devilish to himself, he liked you. And that was more dangerous than his dislike.

You almost jumped when the clock struck 3 in the afternoon.

Your stomach twisted a little, you gulped your anxiety down. It was time to meet your next bosses, they were two executives. If dealing with one rich man in 4 hours was difficult, imagine dealing with two at the same time. You won’t lie, you feel nervous.

Namjoon and Hoseok building were different from your other bosses, this place was full of people running everywhere, it looked so chaotic. But at least you won’t get bored.

Nobody paid attention to you, and you had to ask to like 10 people for where your bosses at.

They were in a meeting. Great, just great.

You waited patiently for them to finish. And when they got out of the meeting room, you rush to them crossing their paths. They stopped immediately, the taller one has an irritated expression and the shorter looked offended by your presence.

“Hi good evening. Sorry for startle you both, I’m the new assistant y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said a little bit out of breath but that didn’t stop you from smiling at them.

“Excuse me?” The taller arched a brow.

You frowned not understanding the offense.

“Uhmm, sorry?”

The shorter one rolled his eyes with irritation.

“Are you fucking dumb? Who told you that you have any right to bother us? Know your place and go with the others employees and figured it out.” He dismissed you with narrowed eyes.

You stood there frozen, and they ignored you walking past you.

But you composed yourself quickly, their attitude wasn’t nothing new.

And again, you joined them on their walk to God knows where, you were praying to not pushing it too hard and get fired.

“It wasn’t my intention to bother such busy and important men like you, I just wanted to introduce myself and get information to do a good job and to be out of your hairs for an unlimited time.” This time your voice sounded breathless, you were exhausted.

The shorter one snorted in disbelief, his eyes flamed with something wicked.

“Is this thing being sarcastic to us?” He asked looking at you but not speaking directly to you.

Your chest sting with offense at him calling you a thing, but you swallowed your bitter emotions.

“I’m y/n,” you replied with a tense smile, not biting the bait.

“Y/n, get the fuck out of our sights unless you want to disappear, and not only from this company,” the taller one threatened with a dark glint in his eyes. You shivered slightly, he was wider and bigger than the other, looking way more dangerous.

Men and their big egos.

“I… I’m sorry for being this bold and rude. I don’t want to waste your time really, I just want to make a good job, that’s my only purpose. I promise to be out of your sight if you could spare me some minutes of your time, I will make it worth it.”

Silence. An uncomfortable hush.

“Very well then,” said the shorter one, tilting his head to the side and watching you head to toes. A wicked smile curled his lips, and you chose to ignore the alarm bells ringing at the back of your head.

“Follow us,” the taller ordered with a deep voice.

At the end of the day you were exhausted, you made it, you survived corporate exploiters men.

The following weeks went rather smoothly. Yes, they were rude and annoying, but you got used to them. You can’t say that you like them, but you tolerate them (for the sake of your rent and bills of course).

Seokjin underneath his cold and indifferent behavior was like a spoiled brat, sassy and rude, but a little bit endearing at some times.

“Y/n, fix it,” he almost whine looking down at you with frowned lips.

You chuckled rolling your eyes.

“I’m gonna start to think that you just want me near you,” you teased, a little bit bold yes, but over time you learned that Seokjin liked to tease way worse.

His eyes glinted with mischievousness, the corner of his lips curling like the cheshire cat.

“You sure wish that was true, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you replied laughing.

It was all jokes between you two, you got used to this type of interaction with your boss. Sometimes he did get a little too friendly for your like, but you really didn’t care. This job was temporary anyway.

And there it was Yoongi, the intimidating vampire-like boss that in the inside was like a bratty cat.

His feline eyes liked to be fixated on you, watching your every move like an actual cat for your amusement. You didn’t mind his heavy attention on you, he was wary with his employees like any other rich man from wall street. You got used to him too.

“Here are the papers you asked me for, sir,” you said airily, you had everything perfectly arranged, leaving no room for mistakes.

Yoongi hummed, looking at the papers and then looking at you again with eyes full of mischief.

“Are you sure it’s that all I asked for?” He didn’t break his piercing eyes from you, many people get intimidated by his stare but not you.

“Yes, of course,” you said smiling and he nodded to himself.

“There’s one thing you haven’t done.”

You didn’t say anything back, you were sure you did everything.

“And that would be…?”

“Having a drink with me, you never do that when I ask you to.” He asked nonchalant with his eyes on his drink, but you knew he was being serious.

“That’s not professional,” you said and he chuckled at your response.

You sighed biting your bottom lip, indecisive. Your goal was to be on their good side after all.

You said nothing when you sit in front of him crossing your leg over the other, the same way he does when he’s drinking. You smirked when he startled a little, but he tried to hide his surprise by a cough.

He poured you whiskey and you took a sip of your drink, trying not to wrinkle your face by the bitter taste. But Yoongi noticed and laughed, you widened your eyes at the sound. It was the first time you listened to his laugh and it was contagious because you chuckle with him.

Namjoon and Hoseok despite seeming intimidating the first time you met them, they were pretty chill and funny when the three of you become a little more closer.

They were in a meeting, and you were by their sides writing down the relevant things they say.

“See that guy over there? Look how he’s falling asleep,” Namjoon whispered near your ear, too close for your liking. However, you follow his gaze watching the older man’s head tilting to the side with sleepiness. You bit a laugh, the poor man had his eyes half lidded with boredom.

At your other side was Hoseok, he had his gaze fixated on the guy speaking, but he looked at you when he heard your little chuckle, a mischievous smirk curled on his lips. You said “sorry” quietly, but he only winked at you before turning his attention again to the man, returning to his cold expression.

When the three of you get out of the meeting room, Namjoon and Hoseok started to make fun of the guy’s speech and the older man’s attempt of being awake. You laughed genuinely for the first time around them.

“Those two don’t know what awaits them.” Namjoon’s words made your smile fall slowly, erasing any hint of amusement. You almost forgot the kind of men you work for.

“Are you going to… fire them?” You asked quietly, gripping tightly your notebook.

Namjoon only shrugged his shoulders, but you noticed the evil glint in his eyes.

“Firing them is too soft coming from us,” Hoseok replied instead, not without smiling at you. But this time his smile turned your stomach sick.

You chose not to ask more questions. Sometimes being ignorant it’s a blessing.

You settle into a routine with your bosses for a couple of months.

But as they say… lies has no legs. They started to notice that your attention wasn’t completely on them.

Seokjin was the first to notice.

That morning he was staring down at you with narrow eyes, even when you tried to joke with him while fixing his tie he ignored you without breaking his piercing eyes from you.

“You said the other day that you work only for me, is that correct?” His voice sounded harsh, and he stared down at you with dark eyes. You gulped nervously, your smile trembling a little.

“Yes, it’s the truth.”

He didn’t say anything back and you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Fine.”

You tried not to snap your eyes up at him with surprise. Does he really believe you?

But then, you felt Seokjin coming near your body, gripping your chin up to met his heavy gaze.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

He was standing too close to your body, his chest almost touching yours. The grip on your chin tightens when you didn’t reply right away.

“I… don’t,” you couldn’t help but be confused. It wasn’t his business if you have a boyfriend or not.

He nodded slowly, not breaking his eyes from you.

“Good. As long as you work for me, you can’t have a fiancé, neither another boss. I’m paying for your absolute time and attention. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips parted and your eyes widened. You were shocked and confused, who does the thinks he is?

“Answer!” he barked furious.

“Yes,” you gritted between teeth.

What a jerk.

And Yoongi was the same.

He was sitting with his heavy gaze fixated on you as usual, but this time he wasn’t holding a glass of whiskey.

“Who else do you see after work?” he asked lifting a brow and tapping his foot.

None of your fucking business, you wanted to bark at him, but instead you bit your tongue.

“No one else, sir,” you couldn’t help but sound bitter.

He snorted with the corner of his lip curling up in a disdain way.

“I hope it’s true, because if not you’ll pay the consequences.”

This time you couldn’t bit your tongue back.

“What consequences? Firing me?”

You regretted opening your big mouth immediately.

Yoongi didn’t react, he simply stood up to walk towards you like a predator ready to pounce its prey.

“I usually don’t say this, but you’re a very valuable employee. If you want to keep a roof over your head, you have to be mine,” he growled the last word near your ear, although he was short, he towered over you, making you feel small with his closeness and strong fragrance.

You gulped, nodding without meeting his eyes. And he grinned wide. You swear you saw sharp teeth.

And Namjoon and Hoseok were even worse.

The both of them corned you against the desk of their office, the back of your knees hitting the corner of the desk. You gulped looking up at them.

“We wanted to ask you something, little bird,” said affectionally Hoseok, but you knew better than to fall for his smile.

“Are you fucking working for other people? Are you dating someone?” Namjoon raised his voice at the last words, staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

You widened your eyes and laughed humorless. They were psychos.

“What the-“

“Watch your mouth,” warned Hoseok, his lips turning a thin line.

“No, I’m not dating neither working for someone else. Happy?” you couldn’t help but sound angry.

The both of them went silent, looking at each other as if they’re having a mental conversation.

And they let you go.

You were on your way to your apartment. Their attitude today was the last straw, you got tired of them. You always noticed the red flags, ignoring the alarm bells and turning an eye blind.

You ignored Seokjin’s stains of blood, Yoongi’s silencer gun, and Namjoon and Hoseok erasing people. You told to yourself, out of sight out of mind. But that was your biggest mistake, you let your greed for money to blind you. For the first time you paid all of your bills without struggling, you ate well and wear the best clothes, and you didn’t worry for the tuition fee. But that doesn’t make you innocent or better than them, you were an accomplice, you were as greedy as them for money. You sold your morals in exchange of money, little money. You weren’t even rich.

Your chest stings painfully, and your eyes teared up. Your trembling lips let out ugly sobs, you were so ashamed of yourself.

You promised to yourself to be an independent woman but not be an accomplice of oppressors and criminals, but what choice did you have? Like people said, it’s eating or being eaten in this world.

It’s a man’s world, and you were simply a woman trying to survive.

You entered your dark apartment and grabbed your home phone, your bottom lip quivered when your mom answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Mom,” you sobbed, sitting on the floor and gripping tightly the phone.

“Y/n? Dear, what’s happening? Why are you crying, is everything okay?” Her worry only made you cry harder, you didn’t deserve it. She raised a better woman and you were a disappointment.

“I-i’m the worst, I want to go home mom… I’m sorry,” you whispered.

You tasted your salty tears, sniffling and hiccupping.

But then the phone was snatched from you.

You were so into your self-pity that you didn’t notice the four figures lurking in the dark.

The lights turn on, and you blinked confused screaming with terror when you saw all of your bosses staring at you.

Seokjin was the one who snatched and hang up the phone.

“Our little princess misses her mommy,” Seokjin coed with a fake pout, he lifted your body making you scream harder.

He took you to the couch where the others were sitting, the tall man sat you on his lap, gripping tightly your waist in a warning when you tried to squirm out of his grip.

“It’s okay princess, I can be your mommy or daddy if you want me to,” Seokjin mouthed your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. He sniffed your hair, hugging you tightly from your back.

You wanted to throw out.

“Let me go you sickos! I quit!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

The apartment went painfully quiet. The tension can be cut with a knife.

But then Namjoon and Hoseok lips mouthed the skin of your neck, lapping each side of it.

You cried trying to move away, but they didn’t let you.

Yoongi squatted before you, with his lips brushing yours.

Their bodies were attached to every part of your body, not letting you breathe. Your senses full of them.

“Your ours,” whispered Yoongi against your lips.

And with dread you realized he was right.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg

[sidewalk-cracks]

In the wake of hearing that DC is making a Dick Grayson and Jason Todd movie and that they're supposedly gonna be screwing up Dick and Jason's backstories, I started thinking about what kind of Nightwing & Red Hood movie I would want to see, in addition to what kind of batfam movies in general I would want to see. I offer for consideration:

Nightwing and Red Hood: Last Defenders. While on patrol, Nightwing stumbles upon the hints of a truly diabolical plot taking shape to topple not just Gotham, but possibly the entire planet while the majority of Earth's heroes are presently indisposed, including most of the batfam. Batman and most of the JL are off world, the Titans are tied up, even Alfred's away, etc- leaving Nightwing and Red Hood as the only two people left to defend Gotham. This is set in a world sometime after UtRH; Jason's identity has been revealed, and he has an uneasy truce settled with the Bats ("you don't bother me, I don't bother you"). The movie follows them through their journey as Dick tries to convince Jason to work with him, they narrowly escape lots of explosions, and argue about Dick's failings as a brother and everything Jason has done since coming back. It all culminates in an epic 2v1 battle with the Big Bad and resolves with them saving the day and coming to an emotional understanding- a hopeful ending, looking towards a future in which Jason might be able to improve his standing with the Bats. BONUS END CREDITS SCENE: Bruce arrives home to a quiet manor. He goes to the kitchen and makes some tea. Goes to the den, and draws up short in the doorway. Dick and Jason are sprawled across the couch, half on top of each other, dead asleep. The credits of a movie are scrolling on the TV. Bruce buffers for a moment, before smiling and deftly whipping out his phone and snapping several pictures. Then he turns off the TV, drapes a blanket over them, and kisses both of them on the forehead.

The Waynes in: Mission Impossible. Bruce and his sons must attend the fancy gala of Evil Rich Man, and foil his diabolical supervillain plot while undercover as the Wayne family. Ideally, without ruining the gala. (Spoiler: they ruin the gala). This is firmly an action comedy, with maybe some sprinkles of family angst thrown in. Otherwise, though, this movie includes a gratuitous amount of puns, the Wayne Men in really sharp tuxes, Jason blowing up several things, Tim and Bruce holding the only braincells in the operation, Jason losing his suit jacket and tie 5 minutes into the gala, and Bruce being Tired. At a later point in the mission they need a distraction, and without hesitation Damian whips around and punches Tim in the face. They proceed to have a very loud and explosive fistfight. Tim YEETS Damian into the dessert table. Bruce groans into his hands.

The Battle of Wayne Manor. Dick, Jason, and Alfred are the only ones home to defend the Manor against a dangerous team of superhuman home invaders, Home Alone style. As soon as the three of them are aware of the situation, Alfred marches over to a panel in the wall, opens up a secret compartment, and pulls out an AK-47. "I have not spent three-fourths of my life at this Manor for a group of brutish, arrogant thugs to think they can just waltz in and lay claim to the place. As you like to say, Master Jason- let's light em up, boys." This can be a serious film or another action comedy. It's pretty much just Home Alone with some guns thrown in. They blind the invaders with several disgustingly bright glitter bombs and then Alfred whips out from behind a corner with his rifle, they've got booby traps on all the staircases, Jason's throwing pies at people, etc. The most important detail is that they successfully defend their home as civilians. No use of vigilante skills whatsoever. The news are baffled and the boys cheekily only comment that Home Alone is a cherished childhood film in their household. This plot could be edited to include Tim, Damian, and even Bruce as well, I just initially thought of it as just Dick, Jason, and Alfred.

[reynita9]

The year is 1912, The luxurious “Millionare’s Special” steam engine oceanliner RMS Titanic is about to embark on her maiden voyage. Aboard it are John Aster, Isador Strauss & Benjamin Guggenheim; three of the world’s wealthiest men, who are opposed to the creation of the federal reserve banking system and turning the USA into a corporation. JP Morgan Chase, the owner of the ship, coincidentally was not aboard. He’d intended to be, but cancelled just hours before it’s departure. Which is terrible considering he’d invested 7.5 million dollars into it (1911 7.5 million… according to an internet inflation calculator that is equivalent to $2,401,002,631.53 “two billion ,four hundred one million ,two thousand ,six hundred thirty one dollars and fifty three cents” in 2023!) Tragically amongst thousands of others Aster, Strauss, and Guggenheim perished at sea when The Titanic crashed at full speed into an established iceberg. So sad. But without them around to use their wealth and power in opposition of the creation of a Federal Reserve System, in 1913, a year later, it was signed into law.

It’s interesting that now in present time, 2023, Billionaires were adventuring to the bottom of the ocean sea-floor, for entertainment’s sake, to traverse the oceanic graveyard of Titanic Shipwreckage.. of course they died too, and with full time coverage. All of those of us who never even asked suddenly being non-consensually updated and roped in. I was at work today and people were like “Did you hear? They ran out of air.” I’m like who the fuck even are they? But still, it’s trippy. Especially after a year of many satirical eat-the-rich-laugh-at-them-suffering films topped charts. In these times laughing at kings fall is all we have, I get it. But it gets weirder, because the CEO of OceanGate Expositions was married to a woman named Wendy Rush, who’s the great-great-great granddaughter (by blood) of Isador Strauss (remember him? mentioned above ^) it’s crazy! How esoteric. But I don’t really even want the focus to be on waterlogged billionaires or the late Strauss Bloodline.. I want to go back to 2023 JP Morgan Chase.. the original man is dead but his namesake and legacy live on, leeching evil into the earth. I wonder why it doesn’t get more press when ten days ago JP Morgan Chase Bank agreed to pay $260 million dollars to victims of Jeffrey Epstein to settle their class action lawsuit around the bank associating with Epstein as he trafficked people and even after he was convicted of pedophilia. TODAY, the same fucking day that these random rich bros die 20,000 leagues under the sea. 6/22/2023, JP Morgan Chase (bank) is fined 4 Million dollars for permanently deleting 47 million emails. I wonder what future lawsuits they sunk by deleting that info. I wonder if this OceanGate Submarine story is real or an intentional distraction/ psyop. Idk I’ve been writing for 15 min n just got hit with so much sleepiness I’m going to be lazy and not actually conclude this at all. Banks own media Banks have bloodlust Banks know how much we love bread and circuses and it’s all smoke and mirrors. A Triangle Of Sadness that we can’t do anything about until we realize how disgustingly low they will sink to get what they want. Abolishing these unimaginably massive wealth and power inequities is the only path forward, but first we have to sit with the information we’re given, and discern and be open minded, be curious, hold massive possibilities with our mind’s eyes. not shut down, or deflect with laughter. Not be lead like a mouse to a trap. They invest trillions into keeping us busy/distracted/subdued/subservient and it doesn’t even matter because we mock and police each other and make jokes of curiosity. “Conspiracy Bullshit” / unconscious trust and devotion.

I’m not saying any of this applies to anything: I am sure it is all coincidental, this is just here to make u smile. A joke. Love u.

[theprincesslibrary]

1. The Blind Date

Elena had a vast knowledge of blind dates. She had arranged a few dozen of them at her previous boss's request (Varis Galvus) and canceled at least half of those at his son’s demand (the very man said dates were intended for). Zenos yae Galvus, 32, Garlemald's most eligible Bachelor, heir to the biggest tech company, disgustingly rich, devilishly handsome, smart… and an insufferable asshole — also, her current boss.

One may wonder, ‘Why are you the one arranging those dates, Elena ? That’s not part of your job description.’ Well, let’s just say the Galvuses men took the personal in personal assistant a bit too literally. Meaning she managed every aspect of their life from ordering wedding anniversary gifts to reviewing notes on an acquisition deal. She had done so when she was Varis Galvus’ PA and continued to do so for his son. She was thus in a precarious position, between the father — freshly retired with too much time on his hands who desperately wanted to marry off his son — and the son, who was content fucking models and refused to get hitched. In short: her life was a shitshow, she was overworked, exhausted, and contemplating murder (which Galvus man would die was yet to be determined). But really, what was a lifetime in prison if she could sleep and eat on her own time?

This is why Elena had also been on countless blind dates — not hers, but Zenos’. She either:

canceled the dates (and got a ‘champagne facial’ more than once — jilted women, especially the rich and spoiled ones, seldom enjoyed being disregarded by a man who didn't even bother to show)

been his reason for a quick escape (‘Oh look at that, my PA is here, something must have happened at the office’ — insert looks that could kill from said spoiled women)

or worked on papers while his potential life partners talked about mergers, combined power, world domination, evil deeds… Whatever one talks about when two prominent families try to become one through the eternal (minus a few divorces) and financially beneficial (careful about those costly divorces, better to sign a prenup) bonds of marriage.  

But tonight was her first blind date. It was not as bad as she feared. Robert (‘Call me Bob’) was nice in a completely inoffensive way. He had picked a lovely place for dinner; they had a good table, the food was delicious, he was considerate and polite, and didn’t cut her off when she talked. He was… perfectly adequate. But he was, well, Bob. No offense to the Bobs of the world, but she could hardly picture herself screaming his name in ecstasy. Also, he worked in accounting and enjoyed it (which made her doubt his ability to bring her to ecstasy). The evening had thus been uneventful boring until Bob excused himself to take a call from his mother and was replaced by Zenos. Handsome, rude, thoughtless, completely inadequate, Zenos.

That was a name she could picture herself screaming, partly because she had done so in the privacy of her room — out of anger and frustration, mind you — but also because whenever he said her name it rolled off his tongue most lasciviously, setting her ablaze with three little syllables. He did it on purpose, she knew he did. He had been edging on an HR complaint since he first marched into her office with a smirk on his face and the most ridiculous demands about the Leveneur acquisition deal.

Galvus senior had been a demanding boss, and he did treat her more like his personal valet than his personal assistant, but his son was a different beast entirely. Zenos was ruthless. They called him ‘The Reaper’ for his ability to make tough calls. He took the decisions everyone else was too scared to make. Sometimes that meant reducing the workforce of the off-branch location by 27%, but that also meant he was the reason why the other 73% still had a job. It wasn’t so much his methods she loathed, it wasn’t the long hours or even the stupid coffee order, it was his work ethic. Or lack thereof. It was the endless stream of conquest parading in front of her desk at every hour of the day; the never-ending procession of glamazons, marching into his office like some Victoria's Secret fashion. The noises they made — of course, he fucked them in his office — were not just completely inappropriate, not to mention a violation of at least 12 HR regulations; they were a constant reminder of the arid state of her own sex life. How could she have time for a one-night stand, let alone a relationship, when she spent all her waking hours chained to her desk? She was quite certain he was doing it to get a rise out of her. Disgusting, horrid, insufferable lech.

So although she was taken aback by his presence, she also wasn’t. He had a way of finding himself where she’d least expect him. That is, where he’d most annoy her, which he was doing right now, by silently staring at her, his piercing blue eyes finding her softest places. He was making her uncomfortable and enjoyed every second of it. He wanted to watch her squirm and she had to restrain herself from nervously smoothing the tablecloth, the wrinkles and breadcrumbs completely incongruous next to his perfectly tailored suit.

“Why are you here, Elena?” “I'm on a date.” “A date.” His voice might have been casual, but his stare was anything but. He looked predatory, dangerous. “With Kingsley? From accounting? That’s where fun goes to die, Elena.” “We can’t all date lingerie models.”

He chuckled. Was he seriously judging her choice of date? And was she really being defensive of Bob from accounting? Four (five?) glasses of wine may have helped her endure that tedious date, but it was clearly affecting her self-control, which was already severely eroded by the aggravating man sitting across from her.

“Jealous are we, Elena,” he almost purred, her name dripping from his lips like honey. “Stop doing that,” she snapped. “Doing what?" “Saying my name.”

His smirk turned wolfish, he leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on her lips, and she felt a blush creep up her face. His eyes glittered, and she knew he was enjoying the power he had over her.

“Is there something wrong with your name? Elena.” His voice was low, much too low; her name but a murmur, the promise of something wicked. She inhaled sharply, and leaned back in her chair, away from the table, away from him. “Why are you here M. Galvus?”. Not Zenos, never Zenos. “Work meeting.” “Lie.” “Is it?” “There was no meeting tonight, professional or otherwise. I would know, I plan every second of your life.”

He was enjoying himself, she could feel the grin spread from his mouth to his eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest, another barrier between them.

“While this has been lovely, I’d appreciate it if you left, my date will be here any second now.” “No, he won’t. I told him I’d take you home, to which he replied ‘ yes, Sir ’ before running away like a true romance hero.” “Fucking Bob.” She slurred. “You’re adorable when you're drunk.” “I am not.” She refuted with a petulant scowl. “Drunk or adorable?” “Either. And I can uber myself home, thank you very much.” “You could, but it would be unwise. You’re drunk, and men are pigs.”

She scoffed at him.

“And what does that make you?” “Your knight in shining armor of course.” “Fine.” She lifted her head and he walked to her side of the table and held out his hand, “but you’re paying for dinner.” “Kingsley might be a coward but he’s not a boor. He took care of that when he left.”

Her mouth round in a silent ‘O’, and all she could do was nod as she stood, stumbling slightly in her drunkenness. His arm snaked its way quickly around her waist, his body steady and strong against hers. Fire ran through her veins and she couldn't suppress the sigh that escaped her lips. If he heard it, he was gentlemanly enough not to tease her about it. Instead, he carefully led her outside the restaurant, where a valet waited next to his sports car.

“Of course, you drive a Garlond.”

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. He might have called her ‘adorable’ again, but she was too numb with alcohol to be sure, not drunk really, just floating. He opened her door, as a gentleman would, and eased her into the passenger seat, before sitting behind the wheel.

“To Park avenue…” “I know where you live, Elena,” he interrupted her.

Her name again, so warm in his mouth and soft on her skin, sent sparks of electricity down to her core. She sighed and rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window, trying to clear the fog that was engulfing her brain. Outside, the city lights danced in the night, blurring into colored streaks as the car picked up speed.

“I thought I told you to stop that.” “You did.” “You're an asshole,” she finally stated matter-of-factly. He chuckled, the sound warming the inside of the car. “Most days,” he conceded. “And I hate you.” Another small laugh. “No, you don't.” “No,” she admitted softly, like a secret whispered in sleep, “I don’t.”

[nihilism-and-dad-jokes]

MDZS has some of the greatest, wickedest villains I've ever seen and I LOVE it. Like, we have:

1). Xue Yang:

Serial killer and obsessive stalker who I'm CONVINCED is a true psychopath. Not only slaughtered literal hundreds of people, but also mentally tortured someone so horrifically they not only killed themselves but TORE APART THEIR OWN SOUL so they could never even reincarnate again. Blinded, muted, and killed a teenage girl. Manipulated a man into being killed by his unknowing (husband) friend just because he thought it was fun. Tried to resurrect the victim of his obsessive stalking purely to torture him further.

He was definitely one of those kids who grew up torturing small animals.

2). Jin GuangYao:

Narcissist and sociopath. also a serial killer, incestuous, and a child killer. Murdered his own infant son. Murdered his sworn brother. Murdered his father (which I wouldn't care because JGS is awful-- but the poor prostitutes he traumatized and then killed, I get SO ANGRY on their behalf). Knowingly married his own sister without HER knowledge because it would damage his reputation to do otherwise, eventually driving her to suicide. Manipulated and lied and framed innocent men for all of his crimes. Participated in the genocide of the innocent Wen Refugees.

And his whole reasoning for everything was "life was hard and people were mean to me". He definitely would have been one of those pathetic American school shooters if he'd been in modern day.

3). Jin GuangShan:

Rapist. Serial cheater. Capitalist. Classist. Terrible father. Basically started the Wen Refugees genocide. So he's essentially a Nazi. Greedy.

Basically Trump. Would-be dictator but was too stupid and entitled-rich-boy to be all that effective, only got power because of uneducated and equally awful people buying into his "make the cultivation world great again" bull. Ugh.

4). Wen RuoHan:

Basically Hitler. Or Voldemort. Classic Cartoon Dictator Villain. Enough said.

And then Wen Chao, Jin ZiXun and Su She, who are just... Pathetic and disgustingly incompetent. Entitled little boys who think the world owes their greasy little selves something. They'd be those "Nice Guy" types who talk about the friend zone like it's a real thing.

They're all just so evil! They've all committed completely horrendous acts that could never be excused outside of very OOC fanfic. I enjoy them so, so much.

I don't know there's no point to this post MXTX just did a really great job on her villains. They're all incredibly awful and so much fun to hate, I absolutely love it. I fucking LOVE a good villain and She Delivered.

[violetsmoak]

Untitled JayTim WIP

Happy Evil Author Day! 

Here’s a WIP I’ve been considering for a while for a one-shot (I know, shock! A non chapter fic from me? Will wonders never cease!) but haven’t really been giving a good amount of attention to because I’ve been focused on finishing Philtatos and the other fics I already have posted. 

Pairing: JayTim

Rating: M for language, sexual themes (not nsfw tho)

Summary: Years from now, they’ll make up a story about how it really happened. After all, how do a series of autocorrect fails lead to a relationship?

________________________________________________________________

T: Wanna bang?

Jason stares at his phone for a full ten seconds trying to connect the words to the contact name.

Logically he knows Tim probably meant ‘hang’, since they have been doing that more often lately. Something about brunch and commiserating over Alfred’s waffles established a tenuous friendship that’s continued in the form of intel sharing and the occasional team-up on cases when they both happen to be in Gotham at the same time.

The relationship is about at the level of shooting each other the occasional meme or gif via text, and ‘hey, let’s grab a chili dog but you’re paying, Mr. Moneybags’. Even if Jason were inclined toward trying to get into his replacement’s pants—which, he’s not thank you very much even if he recognizes as a completely objective equal-opportunity appreciator of the human body that Tim Drake grew up hot—he also knows that Tim Drake is depressingly straight.

So, their occasional meetups have been nothing but casual, family friendly (for this Family, anyhow) encounters with no hidden subtext or intent behind them.

(At least he’s 87% sure, because Tim’s the kind of awkward pretty or pretty awkward that sends out flirt signals without even realizing it.)

In any case, it’s probably the most functional relationship Jason’s ever had with another Robin.

Which is why he’s fairly sure that this text is one of those autocorrect fails.

And he could let it go.

But he’s Jason Todd, and when has he ever let anything go?

J: Depends. Are you going to buy me dinner first, or is this just a casual booty call?

He goes back to cleaning and checking his weapons on his kitchen table, more out of habit than actually needing to. He was taught the fine art of weapon maintenance by the most paranoid man in the world, his guns never jam.

His eyes catch a flicker on his screen and he glances over, watching the three dots indicating someone typing for barely a blink. And then,

T: Omg

T: Shit I meant hang. Autocorrect.

Jason grins, imagining the face Tim must be making, and decides mocking him is more fun than unnecessary gun polishing.

J: Should I bring anything? Condom? Lube?

J: Vibrator?

J: Ball gag?

T: Wtf? No!

J: Also, you’re clean, right? Only B really drilled the safe sex talk into me so

T: Oh my god Jason why are you like this

J: Would it be your first time?

J: Because I’m not sure I should be the one to take your v-card.

T: I hate you.

J: Guess that means sex is off the table?

At this point, Tim seems to realize that the best course of action is to ignore him, which works well enough for Jason. He’s gotten his laugh out of it, and there’s really no need to beat a dead horse.

Or dead bird, as it were.

He promptly forgets about the whole thing when Roy calls him from the front of the ship and informs them they need to pick up supper somewhere because Kori vaporized the hotplate on the ship.

*

The next time he hears from Tim, it’s the night after they save Gotham from a secret society of owls trying to make a creepy nursery rhyme prophecy come true. He answered his call for help against his better judgement since he’s still not on great terms with the Family and didn’t exactly linger to help with the clean-up.

(Barbie was just as unimpressed with him as he remembers, though it was nice to see her up and about again. There’s something cathartic in knowing the Joker couldn’t keep either of them down.)

He, Kori and Roy have just touched down on their little tropical getaway, and Roy’s already trying to get laid (although Jason’s not entirely sure if it’s with Kori or Kori’s ship at this point) and Kori’s smiling that ‘aren’t-human-males-so-quaint’ expression she reserves for the men in her life. Jason’s in the middle of trying to call that flight attendant, Isabel, to see if she’s interested in meeting up for drinks (“Yes, Roy, I know how to ask a woman out, now fuck off.”) when his phone chimes with a notification.

T: Thanks for the team-up. I know it’s not your favorite thing to do.

Jason makes a face at that, both the implication that he was contributing anything to any type of team, and the idea that he doesn’t enjoy beating the crap out of whatever creeper of the week is infesting Gotham.

He weighs the pros and cons of acknowledging that, but eventually texts back:

J: It’s my city too. Make sure you remind him about that.

There’s barely a breath before the kid replies.

T: Always do.

T: And since he won’t say it, if there’s anything you need in the future, just let me know.

And…well. There are possibilities to that. Having a Wayne—even an in-name-only Wayne—owe you favors is a hell of a thing. But it also carries with it the strings of staying connected, which he doesn’t want to out and out encourage.

His eyes flit to the open text to Isabel, and he reconsiders.

J: Know anywhere I can get a few decent suits? Not the Family reunion kind. J: And not so expensive I have to sell me soul.

J: Again.

If he’s going to try this whole dating thing again, he might as well make the effort.

Three dots over beneath his message, and then

T: Your sense of humor sucks. As usual.

T: I’ll set you up with my tailor’s contact info.

T: Gimme a sex.

Jason snorts, and before he’s even really thought it through, he’s typing back.

J: Nah, I don’t put out until the third date.

It’s several minutes before Tim responds—likely he’s gotten distracted by something; it’s the middle of the workday in his time zone, after all—and when he does it’s as indignant as Jason expects.

T: What? No! A sex!

T: A SEC!!!

T: Autocorrect.

J: Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

T: You’re an ass.

J: It’s okay, Timbers, you don’t have to lie. First step is admitting you have a problem.

T: Forget it. No favor for you.

Jason sniggers at that, earning curious glances from Roy and Koru, but he shakes his head. No need to explain the joker.

*

He still ends up getting in contact with Tim’s tailor. Turns out the kid even insisted on paying for whatever Jason wanted up front.

Which he’s not going to say no to.

Somehow, taking Tim’s money doesn’t feel as fraught as taking Bruce’s.

It doesn’t stop him from sending a needling message as he’s leaving the store after ordering several disgustingly expensive suits. (Seriously, what the hell is it with rich people?)

J: So are you my sugar daddy now?

He never gets a reply.

TO BE CONTINUED

[dancedelion]

Be Good to Me (part 3 / 3)

Genre: angst with a happy ending, Beauty and the Beast AU Summary: Jaskier has just been broken up with (again), he has nowhere to stay (again) and people are booing his songs (again). He overhears the villagers talk about a beast in a castle in the woods. Then they mention it's supposed to be dangerous. Well, now he's got no other choice. That beast won't even know what's coming for it. (Geralt doesn't.) Ao3: Be Good to Me part 1, part 2

So Jaskier's plan didn't quite work out. It's not unheard of. But if Jaskier knows anything, it's how to improvise. So, when Geralt doesn't look like a monster, and then doesn't act like a monster, Jaskier learns to cope. New plan: stay and get to know Geralt, bring a fantastic song back to the village, get rich. Or something like that.

Geralt has built walls around the walls around his walls, but Jaskier is nothing if not stubborn.

And then Geralt puts a blanket on him, and listens to his songs, under only small protests, and picks books out for him he thinks he'll like – and then he saves two girls from monsters – and Jaskier needs to revise his plan again. Stay and get to know Geralt, bring a fantastic song back to the village, get rich.

The audacity, really, of that man – to be sweet where he should be callous, to be beautiful where he should be monstrous. Jaskier was promised a frightening monster, and instead what he got is this – this disgustingly kindhearted, annoyingly pretty man. This stupid-jokes, incredible-with-a-sword, doesn't-even-look-old-with-white-hair man. Get away from me with your dumb puppy eyes.  He seems to think the villagers are right – like he's a monster, has he looked in the mirror even once? You'd think a witcher knows his monsters.

All “don't love me”, all “fear me”, all talk, no substance. How dare you. How dare you be soft with your horse. How dare you look at me like you're fond of me.

It's obnoxious, loathsome, against the law, and just horribly unfair, really. Had the villagers just said extremely nice man lives in a castle, Jaskier never would have come.

How dare Geralt be loveable where he should be – how dare he be loveable.

Oh no. Oh fuck.

Jaskier keeps his eyes on Geralt and Fiona in the middle of the entrance hall, with their sword practice, and thinks to himself – if Geralt does something even mildly unlikable right now, it was all just a fluke. If he picks his nose or something, then that's it, none of that lovey-dovey stuff. But in that moment, Geralt ruffles through Fiona's hair – the vicious bastard. The vile, cruel, completely diabolical, sweet, adorable – fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jaskier is known to do something stupid every now and again, but this takes it to a whole new level.

Geralt has had his share of days. Bright, bright days. A life he almost got to have. But here is the yellow buttercup. The last one.

It's quiet for once, everyone else asleep. Only Geralt is sitting in front of the fire, contemplating a week long life. It'll be a good week, he thinks. Better than any that came before.

“Geralt.” Geralt turns his head. Jaskier is hesitantly stepping closer and eventually sinks down next to him. Geralt stares into the fire and waits for him to speak.

“What's wrong?”

“Why would something be wrong?” “It's that buttercup, isn't it? Is it the last one?” Jaskier picks it up from out of his hand and swirls it in his fingers. Geralt just watches him do it.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Geralt says, “it was never my place to begin with. Not really.”

“You sound as if you're leaving.”

Jaskier turns the buttercup again, its stem thin and breakable between his fingers.

“Would you take care of Roach?”

Jaskier looks up. “You would leave without her?”

“I mean in case. Just in case something happened.”

“Just tell me what's going on.”

“Tell me you're going to take care of Roach.”

Jaskier is tense beside Geralt. Firelight dances in his eyes.

“Of course I'd take care of Roach,” he says, “but you need to tell me. Tell me why you're here.” He looks at Geralt intently and Geralt has the sudden urge to shuffle away, out of the light and back into the shadow. But he stays. He knows the light paints him red, like blood, like rage, like a setting sun.

He has his hand in a tight fist, but something makes him want to open his palm.

“It's a curse,” he says tersely.

“A curse?”

Geralt's teeth gnash together.

“I'm sorry, but I'll need you to elaborate. Curse? What's that mean? There's all kinds of curses, all kinds of -” “What do you know about what happened in Blaviken?” “Uhm,” Jaskier says uncertainly, “I don't know. I heard... people died. Villagers. Lots of them.”

Here is the wordsmith, speechless in the face of the Butcher of Blaviken. Geralt nearly snorts.

“Yes. It was a complicated affair. I had to – I -”

Geralt swallows. He sees her in the fire before him, her rage.

“I killed her men. They were threatening innocents. She, she was. She was so – angry. The world had wronged her over and over. I'm not sure I made the right choice. I – I'm not sure there was a right choice.”

He doesn't want to say this out loud, he wants to keep it in his chest forever and ever. He slowly lets his palm fall open.

“There's no excuse for what I did. It felt like the only thing to do. So I did. I – she -” He shakes his head. (He digs in his heart, digs deeply, until he finds where he buried her name.) “Renfri.”

Each sound of it is hard to lay bare, but he manages it. There is not a lot more pain to be had. (Seven days of it.) Jaskier doesn't react, he just listens. (Would it be easier if he wouldn't?) “And one of her men had a wife. A witch. She was angry, too. She got the jump on me. I was... not at my best. She brought me to this castle. Cursed me. That's why I can't leave here. And she cursed that bouquet of yellow buttercups. I would have time until all of them wilted to break the spell, and if I didn't, then...”

“Then what?”

“I don't know. I didn't ask for specifics.” Geralt draws his shoulders together.

“She didn't say anything about what will happen if you don't break the curse?” “I just assumed it was your average death spell. I was a little too preoccupied trying to fight her to have a lovely chat.”

She had been powerful, she had to be to enchant this entire castle. And he'd tried to fight her, but his spells has been weak and Renfri's face had been at the forefront of his mind.

“Okay, okay. It doesn't matter. What's important is, how can you break the spell?”

“I think she was going to tell me. Right before I nearly got her at the throat and she teleported away. So I'm just assuming it's the standard 'True love's kiss' horseshit.” “So what we have to go on is... nothing, basically. Great. I mean, at least we know she left you that magic dinner table, so she's clearly not a completely evil witch, maybe moderately evil, where would you estimate her on the evil scale? Geralt? One to ten?” “Jaskier,” Geralt growls and grits his teeth. Jaskier stares at him. Geralt stares back. Jaskier stares some more. “Six,” Geralt says, “maybe seven. Her laugh did kind of sound like a cackle.”

“Okay, that means maybe we still have a chance to crack this, right? Maybe it does have to do with love. I mean, I mean, we still got one buttercup left?”

“It's a week.” “A week, right, we can work with that. Cause I'm not going to let you die, you know that right? I won't let you leave, you don't get off that easily. Fiona won't either, you still haven't taught her how to fight with a sword properly, and after that comes daggers and maybe the crossbow or bow and arrow – and she doesn't know how to hold a silver sword yet? And I've written like two songs about you that you haven't heard, and don't think I'm stopping there either, I'm writing another twenty and if you're not there to hear every single one of them, I'm going to be so mad. Mad. And you've never been there to witness it, but believe me, you don't want me mad at you. I'm going to -” “Jaskier.” “Yes?” “I'm sorry.”

Jaskier is crying and he won't stop talking and Geralt feels like something is wrapped tightly around his chest.

“No, listen,” Jaskier says, his voice cracking, “I'm going to find you somebody to love. I'll go back into the village, wolves and monsters be damned.” And if you get lost, you will follow the trail of blood I have left behind? With corpses for milestones? I don't think so.

Jaskier has stopped twirling the buttercup in his hand. He is holding it almost reverently now. He looks down at it pensively. “Maybe someone out there will want you,” he says.

Only out there?

There is nothing for you to find. Climb into the mirror if you want to find me someone to love. But if you're looking for someone who can love me? Yeah, good luck with that.

“Don't leave,” Geralt says and has to keep himself from adding please. ***

Jaskier wants to scream. You need true love's kiss? Fine. I'll go into the village and find a woman who's favorite color is yellow. I'll go into the village and find a woman who knows how to tame a scared horse. I'll do anything.

But Geralt is shaking his head.

“It's too late,” he says, “no one falls in love in one week.”

Do people fall in love in degrees? Each infuriating thing you say, I fall further in your direction? Do I stumble at your lovely grunts, your intensely amber eyes? And the worst part is there, right there, is Geralt's open palm.

“I do,” Jaskier says absently, “I can fall in love in one evening, if the object of my affection so demands.” He lifts his gaze when he says it, tries to catch Geralt's gaze – but how do gazes ever meet? What is the likelihood of two people being in the same place? Is love a trade or thievery? Is it my love for your love or do we steal smiles and honeyed words from strangers? Do we hook our fingers in unwatched places and tear each other apart? Is it tear for tear for tear? For a moment, Jaskier thinks Geralt is going to look at him, but then he looks back into the fire. “Well, most people aren't fools like you,” he says. Do only fools fall for you or does falling turn you into a fool?

Jaskier's fingers itch to reach out – he itches to entangle their fingers in a way that is irresolvable.

“Then I guess,” Jaskier says and wets his lips, “we have a few days left then. Make the most of it?”

He lets his fingers ghost over Geralt's palm, holding his breath. Jaskier gathers all the courage he can muster and reaches down, flattens out Geralt's fingers.

Geralt stares down at their hands, not pressed together, fingers not entangled, just palm against palm. Jaskier doesn't know what to say other than I'm right here, so he presses his lips together.

But then Geralt pulls his hand away and it's as clear a rejection as Jaskier's ever going to get.

Why are you so scared of what I'll find once you've let me past the guards of your castle? Are you scared I'll walk into a room with broken tiles that you haven't cleaned for years? Are you scared the sight of the rodents that you let die in there is going to send me in a panic and make me wreck your cabinets? Or are you scared I'll stay?

*** Geralt can't bear it. He doesn't know what he'll do – smile, cry, take a grip – but it's all terrifying.

You think I am a cruse you can break. I'm nothing for you to fix. There is no curse, there's just me. It's all me. I have no man hidden away beneath these monstrous eyes.

Jaskier draws his hand away again, starts fumbling with his fingers.

I'm not your adventure path, I'm not your escape from an ordinary life, I'm not your prince. All that I am is right here. A pair of yellow eyes in the dark.

Geralt looks away into the far corner of the room.

Do you think I want to be your tragic love story? A sad song you won't share with anyone else? Do you think I want you to think of me when you smell blood?

Geralt can feel Jaskier's eyes on him, but Jaskier never really sees. So Geralt gets up and walks away, out of the room, before he asks for more than he is allowed to have.

*** Days are shorter the less you have left of them.

*** The flower will die in hours. At sunrise. (At the beginning or the end of it? Will Geralt have another sunrise?)

“Go to sleep,” he says to Jaskier, who has been talking to him for hours.

“I'm not going to sleep,” Jaskier says. “I'm not missing a second of this.”

“There's nothing to miss,” Geralt says, “go to sleep.”

“No way.” “Will you go if I come with you?” “What – you mean, like -”

“Hm.”

“Okay. Okay. Just a reminder, though, you're the one who suggested this. No take-backs!” Geralt harrumphs.

“Unless you wanted to take it back! You can change your mind, of course. But I'd really rather -” “Jaskier.”

They lay down next to each other on the bed Jaskier has been sleeping in. Jaskier turns on his side and stares at him. Geralt waits a few minutes. But if he only has one night left, he'd rather look at Jaskier, so he turns too. The moonlight comes in dim, makes Jaskier's face blue. Geralt studies the line of his delicate nose, the soft looking lips, the eyebrows.

Eventually, he can't stop himself. Jaskier's eyes are blue, blue, blue.

There is not a lot of time left to say things, so Geralt makes an exception.

“I thought I was going to be alone.”

He says it quietly, like a secret not to be heard.

“I told you you can't get rid of me,” Jaskier answers, just as quietly.

It's hard to keep himself from touching the small smile on Jaskier's face. “I'm glad,” Geralt admits.

He doesn't quite understand why Jaskier lets him have this, but he doesn't want to think about it just now.

*** Jaskier knows better than to touch, this time. But he can look, so he will. Does Geralt seriously think he would walk away if Geralt had horns? Does he think Jaskier wouldn't adore him if he had claws instead of hands? Geralt thinks his eyes are so horrible, but Jaskier would love him if he didn't have any eyes or twelve of them. I know the shape of your heart, whether you want me to or not.

Tomorrow, Jaskier will take Roach and get out of this place. He will probably never find something, someone like this again. So he'll go without aim.

Jaskier stays quiet, for once. The small distance between them feels fragile. The air is loaded with all the words not spoken.

They lay for a long time, like they are memorizing each other's faces – Jaskier knows he is. And then he dares again -

“You like to think these walls are here to protect the world from the monster safely locked inside,” Jaskier whispers. “But that's not really true, is it, Geralt?” He shifts just a little closer.

“Who hurt you?”

It's silent for a long while and Jaskier thinks Geralt is not going to answer. But then it come, really quietly -

“No one hurt me. I did. Hurt someone.”

*** The ache is quiet now, almost gentle. The twilight makes the world seem dulled, obscures its harshest parts.

“I didn't love her,” Geralt whispers, “I barely knew her. But I liked her. I thought – I thought she understood me. I let her – I -” Even now, it's hard to say, but if he's going to say this anytime, to anyone, it'll be here. To Jaskier.

“She was going to kill that girl, the little girl -” Get out of Blaviken, Geralt.

“I fought her and won. And I thought, if I'm going to have to lose the fight some day, why couldn't it be this one?”

She'd had such big brown eyes.

“I killed Ren – I kil-” That's as far as he'll ever get to saying it.

Geralt closes his eyes, so he won't have to see the disgust on Jaskier's face. Here I hide my yellow eyes, Jaskier, do you understand me now?

But then there is a touch to his cheek. He can feel Jaskier's fingernails on his cheekbone. To scratch? Geralt would let him.

He thinks of Fiona and Zofia, who he couldn't bear to tell the truth. They would hate him – or worse, be disappointed – no more sword lessons – no more dinners – he would lose the only thing he won't be losing now – their fond memories of him.

You have been sharing your bed with the Butcher of Blaviken. Do you understand what it means now? He opens his eyes a little, because he won't die with his eyes closed.

There is no anger on Jaskier's face. Just a soft smile.

Can I keep it? At least until the sun rises?

“It's okay,” Jaskier says. “It's okay.” Geralt has to hold in a gasp.

“You were between a rock and a hard place,” Jaskier whispers, “you had to make a tough decision. That doesn't make you a monster.”

Jaskier's hand is cold against his face, but Geralt's chest feels warm.

“Do you think humans don't get lost in the woods sometimes?” Jaskier keeps going. “It's not neat and not clean and so, so messy, but I found you.”

Is this why you write songs? To find words that can reach into people's chests? It would only take so much to tilt his head down. Will you meet me on the pillow, three inches from here?

“It's almost morning,” Geralt says.

“Right.”

“I want to see the sunrise.” “Of course.” Geralt lets his gaze linger, only for a moment, on the moonlight in Jaskier's eyes. Then he swallows the unbidden words down. There is nothing in this small space between them for him to have, and more importantly, nothing to keep.

They go outside, the sky already turning lighter. Geralt takes a breath in the brisk morning air. He turns to look at a place shaped like a home.  A home to kings and queens, princes and princesses, chamber maids and butlers, maybe even a witcher sometimes.

I want to see the sunrise, Geralt thinks, and looks at Jaskier. His face looks beautiful in the faint red light coming from the horizon. The light catches on his hair and there, the sun reflects in his eyes.

“Geralt -” That's when the pain starts.

A face etched into wood -

A hand he didn't take -

A truth never spoken -

Not a monster, but a coward -

Laughter a stomachache in his abdomen -

There is always pain, pain, pain when something is born.

*** Geralt doubles over in front of Jaskier, starts coughing. And Jaskier can't watch it. He falls to his knees and grips Geralt's shoulders, but Geralt is not looking at him anymore.

“No, listen,” Jaskier says quickly, “if this is about love – if you need someone to love you – then – you know, I know you're a witcher and you're not used to emotions, but some of us are human, and I can't really help, but, and you probably haven't considered this, but maybe possibly, perhaps maybe it is so that I – and this might come as a surprise -

“Jaskier,” Geralt chokes out, “get to the point.” “The point is,” Jaskier takes a breath, “here I am. And I know you don't, but... and I know it might not matter, but... I love you.”

Geralt's eyes widen, and yep, bet you didn't see that one coming, witcher.

“Jaskier...” he gets out, but then he starts coughing again. And Jaskier's arms come up to steady him, but it doesn't stop.

And Jaskier's heart burns.

And it doesn't matter.

***

Geralt is gone.

*** The White Wolf is not.

*** “Sweet Melitele,” Jaskier reels back when he sees the wolf. He has white fur and piercing yellow eyes. He seems irritated, turning his head from side to side, walking backwards like he's cornered. Eventually, the wolf's gaze settles on Jaskier and Jaskier stares back at him.

“Geralt?” Jaskier tries. The wolf whines softly, then inclines his head, which Jaskier is going to take as a yes. “Death spell?” Jaskier says exasperatedly. “Fucking hell, Geralt. It was a transformation spell. You've had me all riled up over nothing. Well. Not nothing.”

Jaskier scrutinizes Wolf-Geralt.

“This is why we don't fight the evil witch until after she's given us all the relevant information,” he says sternly.

Geralt makes another noise, maybe a whimper? “You are adorable,” Jaskier says startled and maybe a little delighted. In response, Wolf-Geralt growls at him and bears his teeth. Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you're a dangerous scary beast. Any maiden will faint when she sees you. Hey, now you've finally got fangs!”

Jaskier sits cross-legged in the snow. Geralt steps closer hesitantly. Jaskier sobers up a little.

“So, I guess the spell only resolves at requited love. Sorry. I tried.”

Geralt draws back his ears.

“Yes, it's true. I did fall in love with you. I mean, I tried not to. I did my best.”

Geralt steps a little closer, but it seems like even as an animal he doesn't know how to respond.

“Yeah you're right,” Jaskier says, “I didn't try all that hard. I do love love.”

Geralt looks at him, in that infuriatingly Geralt way of his, which just -

“That is -” Jaskier starts indignantly, “not fair! No puppy-dog-eyes for you as long as you actually look like a puppy!”

The wolf growls a little again.

“Yeah, yeah, you look like a gruesome, threatening big bad wolf,” Jaskier waves him off. “Don't you think it's a little concerning that our conversations are kind of... the same now? I know, I know, for you the perfect conversation is the one that doesn't happen.”

The wolf gets up again and starts pacing in front of Jaskier. If Jaskier were to take a hard guess, he'd say that Geralt would be yelling at him right now in his human form.

“So what do we do now?” Jaskier asks. “I mean, we should go to a mage, probably. Someone who could turn you back. You know anyone?” Geralt stops the pacing, sniffs the air and turns his head.

“Yes? You know someone?” Jaskier says. “I mean, as much as you look lovely – uhhh, terrifying! Frightening! - right now, I do want the old Geralt back. I liked him. My best friend.”

Geralt looks a little displeased, as much as wolves can look displeased.

“Ah! Can't argue!” Jaskier exclaims. “You don't got the vocal cords for it. I'm your very best friend in the whole wide world. Any objections?”

The wolf growls a bit, but doesn't speak a single word of protest.

“Yeah, didn't think so,” Jaskier says flippantly. “We should go straight away. I'm going to tell Fiona and Zofia we're leaving and pack some things. You just – just wait here.” Geralt sits down and stares at him, which Jaskier takes as his cue to leave.

*** The front doors fly open and the girl – Fiona – comes running through. Geralt steps back, still unused to this body, though it comes more naturally to him than he expected. There is something familiar yet foreign in the way a wolf thinks.

Fiona comes to a still in front of him, staring in shock. Jaskier has been running after her and pauses a few feet behind her. Now they're staring at each other – the white-haired girl and the white wolf. But how do wolves say, don't be afraid?

She doesn't have a weapon with her, even though Geralt told her to always keep a weapon close by. Though Geralt wouldn't know what to do if she attacked him. Run, maybe. (There is no way he would ever hurt her.)

Wolves can't smile, can't lift their hands to show they don't carry weapons – wolves are weapons. All teeth, all claws. There must be different tricks, but Geralt doesn't know them yet.

Geralt tries to put it all in his eyes – I won't hurt you, as wolf or as witcher. For a few seconds, they just exchange glances. Then she falls forward and Geralt stumbles back a little, can't find an escape route. He flinches when she throws her arms around him to -

hold him? Geralt is stunned. Is she - hugging him?

He holds still, careful not to move.

“Geralt,” she says close to his ear. He presses his nose against her back.

“How do you know it's him?” Jaskier asks surprised.

“Isn't this how he always looks? White hair, yellow eyes. I see no difference.” Snarky.

She shuffles a little closer.

“Look, I don't know what happened,” she says so quietly that Jaskier won't hear it, “but Jaskier told me you're leaving. I just had to say good-bye.”

He breathes in her scent. He can smell her the same way as always.

“I'm going to tell you everything, on one condition, maybe two. You have to come back. In one piece and ideally as a witcher.”

He nudges her, which is as close to a promise as he can make her.

“So I'll tell you a secret now,” she goes on, “and I trust you'll keep it. My real name is Cirilla. Ciri for short.”

Finally, she lets go of him and steps back.

“So long, witcher,” she says and smiles a little, “try not to get shot by a hunter.”

Then she turns and walks back into the castle.

“We're all set, then,” Jaskier says, “let's go.”

And Geralt starts walking toward the gate – the gate that hasn't let him through so many times. He pauses in front of it. Maybe it still won't let him through – maybe he's cursed to stay here forever. Even now. And he has been here so long, years even. How do you open a gate?

Jaskier steps around him and opens the gate for him, gives him a look.

But how do you cross a threshold? Jaskier was right – this castle is his fort. He's safe there. But that means he needs to leave all the more.

“I'm here,” Jaskier says from the other side of that line. So Geralt follows suit, preparing for the witch's magic to reign him in, but it doesn't.

He is finally outside the castle.

*** Geralt leads him through the woods for hours, growling all the way, which deters any monsters in close proximity. Once they are in a safer part of the woods, Jaskier decides they need need to set up camp. He fiddles with the clasp on his bag for a long while – Geralt huffs at him.

“Excuse me, tone down the judgment, please,” Jaskier says, frustrated. “Come back to me when you have opposable thumbs again, maybe then I'll listen to your criticism.”

Eventually, he manages to spread out his bedroll. Geralt just sits there and stares at him.

“We're going to fix this,” Jaskier assures him. “Don't worry about it.”

Geralt tilts his head in a way that suggests he is clearly worried. Jaskier sighs and sinks down on the bedroll. He's not too worried. Geralt's alive and that's already much better than what he expected yesterday. The rest will work itself out fine.

He tries to sleep, but hears Geralt's footsteps around the clearing. Suddenly, it becomes quiet. Jaskier sits up.

Geralt is between the trees, walking away. Leaving.

“Wait,” Jaskier calls, feeling horribly fragile all out of a sudden. Geralt stops, but Jaskier's heart doesn't stop racing. He gets up and walks a few steps towards the wolf.

“Don't leave,” Jaskier says, “please.”

Geralt seems uncertain.

“I don't know what's going on in that head of yours. I never do. But you're not better off on your own, whatever you believe. I'm sticking with you.”

The wolf just looks at him, like he's considering. Jaskier holds his breath the whole time.

Finally, Geralt steps toward him again.

“Just, just come here,” Jaskier says quietly and lies back down on his bedroll. “Please.”

Jaskier doesn't think he will, but he lays tense all the same. But Geralt does come closer. And he does lay down closely next to Jaskier. His fur tickles Jaskier's nose.

He doesn't know if he's allowed, but he decides he'll take his chances. He puts one arm over Geralt's body.

“Did you know,” Jaskier whispers, “that your fur is really soft?”

Geralt growls, which Jaskier assumes to mean shut up. So he does. This time, he falls asleep easily.

*** The next day, it takes them only a few more hours to reach a village. The villagers, for some strange reason, don't seem to agree that Wolf-Geralt is harmless and cute and needs to be petted – they look at them suspiciously, but they won't come close.

Geralt eventually stops in front of one door and looks at Jaskier expectantly.

“This is it?” Jaskier says. “This is where we find help? Okay, I'm just going to trust you on this.”

He starts knocking. When nothing happens, he knocks a little more vehemently. The door flies open.

“Who wants to lose a hand?”

The woman has black hair and she's wearing a black dress, and what's that in her eyes? Death?

“Geralt, she's terrifying. Are you terrified? I'm terrified. Do you know her? Please tell me we go the wrong door.” But Geralt already trots through the door. The woman has turned to Geralt and she raises her eyebrows at him.

“Geralt?” she says, chiding him, “what did you do this time?”

Geralt gives her a long look.

“Yeah, you're right. We better discuss this inside.”

“Geralt, do you really think this is a good idea? Don't you remember how this all started? With you angering the wrong creepy witch? I feel like falling into the clutches of another evil witch is not the solution to this problem.”

“Where did you pick up the stray dog?” the woman asks, and Jaskier opens his mouth to answer, but then he realizes that she was talking to Geralt. Completely indignant, Jaskier strides into her house and shuts the door behind him.

“Wow, I can not believe -” Jaskier starts, frantically waving his hands around, “I'll have you know if I were a dog, I'd be an incredibly pretty, high-bred -”

“Does he ever shut up?” the woman asks Geralt.

“Uhm, how about you talk to the person who is not a wolf and can actually answer you – and to answer your question, no, I do not-” “Tell me what happened,” the woman says and crouches down to look at Geralt. “So it all started when Cecilia – or was it Catherine? Chloe?”

“Quiet!”

Despite his utter indignity, Jaskier stays quiet. The woman looks Geralt in the eye. Geralt says nothing. He does growl a bit, though.

“Well, if that wasn't a riveting tale -” Jaskier begins sarcastically, but the woman interrupts him again.

“I see,” she says to Geralt.

“What, can you speak wolf? Is that your magic power, you can talk to animals and -” “I can read minds.”

“Can you just once wait for me to finish a sente-”

“No,” the woman says curtly. “Okay, okay, I see how this is gonna be. Wait, you can read minds? Can you also read my mind?” Naturally, Jaskier thinks very intently fuck you.

“If you heard that, I meant it, but also, don't, don't do that – I would like to keep my thoughts to myself -” “Then why don't you?” “I'm sorry, I talk when I'm nervous, my best friend has been turned into a wolf, I'm allowed to be a little nervous.”

“Best friend? Interesting,” she says, still staring at Geralt. “Now shush.”

Jaskier is a bit offended at being shushed, but he also wants to get this over with, so instead of trying further, he starts looking around the place. Little trinkets clutter the shelves, probably potions and other witchery items. Finally, his gaze settles on the witch again, the flowing black hair, the ethereal beauty. How does Geralt know someone like that? Distant cousin? But despite both of them being hauntingly beautiful, they look like polar opposites. One graceful and elegant, one grounded and big. One dark, one light. Maybe they were lovers. And that... yeah, that... Jaskier turns his back on them.

“And you seriously didn't say anything? Men,” the woman says.

Then, “oh don't look at me like that.” Then, “yes, you could have.” Then a deep sigh and, “and now I have to sort out your mess again.”

Jaskier tentatively turns around again. The witch gets up and finally looks at Jaskier.

“So what's the verdict? You seem pretty powerful, you can turn him back, surely?” “I can.”

“Great!” “But only for an hour.” “Oh.” “But it can be permanent,” she continues.

“So hot, so cold,” Jaskier exclaims dramatically, “I do have feelings, you know?”

“I can give you this hour, but you have to break the spell yourself, Geralt. You know how. You know! I won't hear any protests.”

Geralt seems resigned, his ears hanging low.

“Hey, this is good news, right?” Jaskier says to him. “You'll be back on two feet in no time.”

All out of a sudden, fear grips at Jaskier. Maybe Geralt will send him away once he's all witcher again. Jaskier is tolerable as a begrudgingly accepted housemate, maybe even as a friend, but Geralt won't want somebody around who's hopelessly, so hopelessly in love with him. Maybe he'll even think he's doing him a favor by driving him away. And if that's the case, Jaskier will fight him on it, but if not...

Well. He's imposed himself on Geralt enough already.

“Yeah great,” Jaskier says weakly, “wohoo.”

The woman fixes him with her gaze, probably seeing right through him immediately with her magic witch senses, so he lets out a nervous laugh. “I have a room upstairs,” she says, “I'll get you once I'm done.” “Can't I come -” “No distractions.”

And they're off. Which is fine, totally great, Jaskier will just worry a little more. He's good at that.

*** Jaskier stands in front of the closed door to the witch's room. He doesn't know what he's nervous about, really. Going inside, and he'll be face to face with Geralt again – the witch told him Geralt did indeed have a witcher face again and arms and fingers and gorgeous white hair. She told him no parts have gone missing. And Jaskier has seen that a hundred times before – what's there to be afraid of?

He lifts his hand to the door handle, but then lets it sink again. Geralt was with him just an hour ago, why fear his words now that he has words again?

He takes a deep breath, lifts his arm again and then -

Geralt opens the door.

“Geralt!” “Jaskier.”

And that tone of voice is hard to read, always so hard to read. No body language, but your actions betray you.

“You're all witcher again! That's nice. Must have been disorienting, seeing everything from the eye-level of an eight-year-old? How tall are eight-year-olds?”

Geralt's hand shot out and grabbed Jaskier's wrist.

“Yeah, it sure must be nice to have fingers again- woah,” Jaskier says, nearly losing his balance when Geralt drags him into the room.

“So, so – cure! The witch says – by the way, how do you know this witch? I don't know whether to be frightened or impressed that she's the kind of person you go to for help.”

If Jaskier just keeps talking – words, words, words, please don't interrupt me with heartbreak and rejection - “Yennefer. Old friend.” “Lover?” “Yes. Then no.” “Still not a man of many words, I see. That's good actually, because there's something I'd really rather not talk about, let's just pretend I didn't say it, really, please -” “Jaskier -” “Anyways! She said you knew how to stop the curse. And I distinctly remember you telling me you were too busy fighting to hear how, which means – you lied to me. You lied to me.” Geralt listens to him silently, his face all angles again, all hard expressions. It has gotten dark outside and only a candle on the nightstand by the single bed in the room gives off light.

“You're right,” Geralt says quietly, working his jaw, “she did tell me how to stop the curse.” “How?” Jaskier asks. “Tell me.”

“I thought it wouldn't work. I thought there was no way it would. But... I might have been wrong.” “Well, that's good. What do we need to do?”

Geralt is so stiff across from him, the candle illuminating the side of his face. “She said -” He pauses and just breathes for a moment. “She said. If you won't tell your loved ones that you care for them, then you don't need a voice. If you do so well being alone, be alone. Told me to go live in the woods for all she cared. I didn't know what that meant. She wanted me to prove – to prove I'm not a monster.”

And you thought that was impossible, oh darling. Jaskier wants to reach across the space between them, the way he could that night when they were lying in that bed together.

“She wanted me to prove I could still feel things. So you weren't too far off. It was about love. But... it was about. About me, falling in love and... admitting it.”

“So go on then,” Jaskier says, takes a small step forward, daring him. “Admit it.”

But Geralt still looks like he's in pain.

“Do you love Fiona like a daughter, or Zofia, or...”

But Geralt is still not looking at him.

“You know Yennefer will be extremely mad if she did all that magic only for you to turn into a wolf again because you're so emotionally constipated,” Jaskier says light-heartedly.

He thinks for a moment, Geralt won't say it, only knows how to cross his arms and not how to open them.

***

Jaskier's wide eyes are on him. He can see his yellow eyes, his white hair, his looming, frightening – everything. Don't look at me. You can look at me, but not in this light. Not from this angle. Look into my eyes when night has turned them grey. Look at my human-shaped silhouette. Indulge me in darkness' gentle lie. Geralt can't stand the feeling of the candlelight on his face, so he steps back a bit, into the shadows again.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says again, as if Jaskier's name could draw him in, could draw him closer. “I thought you'd be gone. I thought you'd get fed up soon enough. I didn't expect...” Jaskier smiles at him, but it looks a little distorted.

“Do you even know why I stayed,” he says.

Geralt really doesn't.

“Because of the magic dinner table?” “No, you idiot.”

Jaskier steps closer again, and this time Geralt doesn't flee.

“I've already laid my heart bare.” Jaskier exhales slowly. “Don't you want to return the favor?”

My heart for your heart.

“I didn't care about these yellow buttercups for so long. I didn't care what would happen when they died. It didn't matter. But then... you. You came along and... made it matter.” Each word is hard to say, but Geralt has to. You made me believe flowers can bloom in winter. In snow, in ice.

“It was dark in her castle before you came along. Quiet. Lonely. And I've always craved -”

Jaskier steps even closer. Geralt pushes the words out one by one.

“And I really think I might – I must – I love -”

your voice your light your eyes

“you.” you you you

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Didn't – didn't expect that.” He comes closer still and finds Geralt's hand.

“But I'm not complaining,” Jaskier adds quickly, “the opposite, in fact.”

His hand is warm and Geralt searches for his other one, too.

“You know,” Jaskier says, talking faster, “I've never been in love. I mean, I almost was a million times or I could have been if – I would have, if I – it was just an if-love. But now I know what a when-love feels like – when – when you look at me, like that – or it's a yes-love, a yes-please-love, a please-shut-me-up-right-now-love -”

Geralt surges forward and kisses him, suddenly less tense and more desperate. He knows, now, the curse must be broken.

You can look at me, but only with your hands, not with your eyes.

Jaskier's hands roam over him.

Look at me with the arches of your fingertips.

He's not trapped anymore. He's free, so free, like a bird – like two birds, singing the same song.

I will let you look at me with your lips.

And Jaskier does, presses soft kisses to Geralt's cheekbones, his forehead, his eyelashes. Geralt can't get enough of it, of his scent so close, of the warmth he radiates. Geralt's skin is so hard, like stone, but it gives way where Jaskier touches it. He can make an indent in the crook of Geralt's neck. Leave fingerprints all over him. (Geralt doesn't know how long it will take until he turns to stone again.) Geralt takes Jaskier's face into his hand and wants to keep it, keep this. Maybe he can.

From the depths of his mind somewhere, he can hear the rumors, the insults, the whispers – the monster in the woods, in the enchanted castle, with horns and fangs and violence in his beastly eyes. But here is Jaskier, with his brave stupidity and his gentle hands and his light voice and his hand finds Geralt's chest and the ache fades from where his palm touches him.

Jaskier grabs his arms, turns the both of them into the candlelight and

– sees him.

[mythicalmythology]

So @vithcytries and i emailed a lot back and forth last month and asked more about my OC Clem from a recent commission she did for me (which will be posted soon) and i have too much to say so y’all can read me rambling about my OC Clementine,the demon from my book They Come From the Shadows along with her other friends/ characters

like what's her relationship with her parents like? - Clem is the daughter of Lilith and Lucifer (who are left up to various interpretations) , born and raised in Italy living a rather charmed childhood life. Her family works for the Empire as the official Keepers to keep more sinister and evil creatures from the darkest parts of the universe (places men can’t even comprehend) from getting out and into their world and the humans. She’s very much close to immortal aging slowly than most people. Her mother , Lilith, growing up when not watching over the gates (something her and her husband trade off on) is a sex worker that Clem highly admires as her mother taught her she can be an independent woman no matter what anyone tells her. Her father supports her choices as he wants to see his daughter happy and taught her sins are not inherently evil or bad and to use them to her advantage. With that said her father is mainly the one who got her started on murdering men or women who have done evil acts and to pleasure those looking to indulge. She found it was a great way to get dirt on people and the Empire has made her their official spymaster, a position her parents are most proud of her achieving.

What are the things that get her to show her true form? - because of her Demon background, Clem does have a truer form she was born with that includes sharp teeth, black eyes and white hair. The appearance she puts forth is one she’s chosen to take of a redhead with green blue eyes. She’s not exactly proud of this half or part of her as it often leads her to be not fully in control of herself. It often comes out in two ways: extreme emotions or pain. Depending on the level of emotion and pain it can be as minor as the eyes becoming a tiny bit duller, maybe her teeth feeling s little bit sharper , or full form. Seeing her loved ones or friends be harmed or disrespected or partaking in sex (though it has to be amazingly good) is the easiest way to get it out of her emotionally while pain wise would take a gunshot or stab to body.

How did she and Kai end up together?- Kai is Clem’s primary partner, a werewolf who dabbles in politics and business. Clem does have other lovers, clients who she bonds with or takes a liking to but only see each other whenever they visit her and know she’s not leaving Kai anytime soon for them. Clem owns her own flat in the city and has her family estate outside of the city, she spends her time at Kai’s bedroom up in the attic of their friend Dorians doctor clinic. The clinic is where they about a year ago after Kai came in with a gunshot wound to his shoulder after being shot while out hunting. Coming in as a full blown wolf, it wasn’t till the morning she saw him as a man and because Dorian had other private matters to do, Clem was the one to nurse him back to health and care for his wound. The attic became his room after Kai felt he couldn’t lead any hunters back to his mother and put her in harms way. Despite being a healing mage or practicing it , magic can’t always heal a bullet wound. The more time they spent together the more he enjoyed her company and respected her line of work and began to court her (or date her) and have been in love ever since.

Who are the other members of the gang? - @vithcytries asked this when I said there was other members and friends Clem knew and here is an overview of them part 1 :

Dorian Jackson: Once a mortal man born before the fall of Rome and studying medicine he was killed as Rome fell but the Empire had use of him as a healthy young man and used him as a solider before moving him to a special unit force in charge of murdering and killing monsters. He still puts his doctor training to use and runs a clinic out of the city and is immortal. He had a son with a mortal woman who he named Teddy. He’s very much in love with Queen Madia but their professional roles keep them apart (in the public eye at least). Classified as a spirit / demon

Queen Madia : ruler of the Empire she’s the vampire queen who’s been alive for a very long time. She was married to a ruthless king who foolishness killed him leaving Madia with her eldest son and two younger twins. She oversaw Dorian coming in and even the one who appointed him the new position. She loves Dorian even when married but followed strict vampire orders and rules. Since her husbands passing she very much looks to reform a lot of rules and rules with justice and peace in mind. Her eldest son, Roman, is off fighting war and in the same squad as Dorians son Teddy

Squad Clockwork: the military squad specialized in enlisting supernatural creatures or humans who work closely with them, Squad Clockwork in composed of Teddy Jackson, Roman Di Vittorio, Alexander and Dakota

Teddy: born to Dorian and unknown mother, he was left on his father’s doorsteps to be looked after and raised after his mother took off with him before giving birth. His dad raised him with a good childhood and education even teaching some about the medical practice. However Teddy found himself called off to war by England and there he met Alexander and Dakota, two humans who dabble with the supernatural. He’s known Roman his whole life and were childhood friends growing up and even began to court one another. Teddy is a spirit like his father and finds water to be his source of talent. He’s one of Clem’s best friends and poly like her as he has many partners but primarily goes home to the guys in his squad.

Roman: A vampire like his mother he doesn’t want to rule at all over the empire. He joined the war to follow and be with Teddy as he wasn’t about to allow the man he loved to die in battle alone. He’s the best in the squad with tactics and planning. He has know Teddy all his childhood and is greatful for his dad for being there for his mother Madia. He spends most time when mot deployed with his mom and two younger siblings. Teddy , Alexander and Dakota are his primary partners and lovers. He didn’t get along with his father at all and the Elders are unhappy he chose to go fight a war.

Alexander: back home Alexander is the kind of guy you’d last expect to fight a war. His family is disgustingly rich as they’re all crime bosses and criminals and Alexander is in charge of handling the family’s finances. He’s not much of a peoples person and rather enjoys being alone. He grew tired of being in crime with his family and decided to join the war to get away from home and the crime. He doesn’t make any plans to return back home once it’s over. Him and Dakota were childhood friends who sadly got split apart after Dakotas father moved them away. They both reconnected after joining in and ended up dating. When they both met Roman and Teddy they also started to date them as well.

Dakota: Dakota comes from a middle class family of factory workers, a job he didn’t want to be doing for the rest of his life. His family a rather large one with him having many siblings who, if old enough, worked in some of the local factories. After his father moved from England to Germany for awhile Dakota found himself to befriending and finding the supernatural creatures around there and the Empire granted him a job to work for them which was to join Squad Clockwork. Seeing it as a way out he accepted it and never looked back. He was happy to see Alexander join in a few months later having not seen his friend for over a few years and was happy to be working with someone he knew. His humor is his best quality and helps the squad get through rough days. He sees/ dates Teddy, Roman and Alexander with Alexander as his main partner.

Cassandra: a witch/ necromancer, Cassandra is the magical adviser for Queen Madia. She doesn’t stray far from her home in woods which has been given the nickname The Forest of Corpses so the only time she is ever seen is in the woods or the Empire whenever Madia calls for her. She was born in the country side out in Norway before making her way to England. In the woods she works with the Maiden and the Maiden’s Lover helping those who come into the woods to die or animals who are dying pass on peacefully.

There’s a part 2 to come so stay tune !!

[teal-skull]

(J&H fanfic) Dinner in the darkness

In the darkness there was a pale spot of light. It came from above and landed upon a long polished mahogany table full of seductive food and treats on silver plates. Four types of fish with a lemon an top of each and fried pepper steaks. A huge stuffed turkey and two fried chickens. More than three big untouched cakes just waiting to be eaten. There were also two men sitting at the both ends of the table.

The other man was a tall, blue-eyed gentleman with his brown hair tied up in a ponytail. This man looked depressed and sick while the look on his face was so sad, poor and anquished. He was in shackles. An incredibly long chain went high up from a heavy iron ring the gentleman had on his neck. An other chain went down then split in two to prison the poor man’s wrists. His ankles were also chained. But despite this, the gentleman was still well dressed and his Victorian clothes were made of a rich fabric. He didn’t care about the good food in front of him. The man just sat quietly on a gilded chair and looked away from the other man who was sitting before him.

This other fella had put his dark coat and a black top hat on a back of his chair. A cane was leaning towards the armrest. He was dressed like a gentleman but surely didn’t look like one. He was a short and small man with messy and long white hair, which reached his shoulders. The man’s face was strange. His pale skin wasn’t the cause of some sickness and his eyes were cruel and cold green with a spark of madness in them. And lastly, there was something very wrong in his appearance but it could not be named. He cave a disgusting and loathsome impression to those who looked at him.

This odd man, unlike the gentleman, was eating with a great appetite. He had his hirsute and skinny hands on a chicken leg which he gobbled. His white teeth sunk into the meat and ripped it off like an animal.  After the man had finished his chicken he lifted his half-closed eyes to this shackled gentleman. He leaned on the back of the chair. The smile he gave to him was pure evil and unpleasant.

-You should eat something, he said with his dark and husky voice, -My dear Jekyll.

-I am not hungry for anything you offer Hyde, was the cold answer.  

Hyde smiled in a way that looked like he was pitying Jekyll. He shook his head a bit.

-Oh Jekyll. But don’t you remember the times? When we both enjoyed this delicious dinner we’re having, he said with a persuasive voice.

But Jekyll said nothing. Only watched away from his inner demon who he didn’t want to face. It was like he was looking his past evil deeds in the eye. But Hyde was desiring Jekyll’s attention. Like a child does from a parent when he has done something he's proud of. So he kept talking with a tongue that spoke like a snake:

-Jekyll… What happened? You used to eat so well with me from time to time…

-That happened, Jekyll replied coldly and pointed at the cane.

Chains rattled while he was moving. The sound was hollow and lonely in the absolute silence that surrounded them. Like every voice and sound that came from the dinner table. Hyde clanged the cane next to him. He gave it a satanic smile with his eyes nearly closed. Hyde recalled gladly the memories concerning the cane.

-Ah, said he, -The murder. It was a wild night. I’ve never felt so alive before that. Hell, it was amazing…

-It was horrifying! A cruel crime towards an innocent man! A deed so unforgettable and barbaric… And it can never be redeemed! Jekyll cried and then hid his face im his hands.  

Hyde smiled at first a twisted and evil smile. Then he started laughing. But the laugh was dark and mean. The kind of which made a shiver go down the listener’s spine. A psychotic laugh at someone else’s misfortune.

-You’re a monster…, the gentleman said fearing himself. Jekyll looked directly to Hyde this time with pure regret and sadness.

The laughter stopped there. Hyde put his elbows on the table. It seemed that he was thinking something while looking his other side in the eyes.  

-Let’s analyze that. Why am I a monster Henry? He asked finally with a great interest.

-Because there’s nothing humane in you. You’re a beast. Desire is the only thing that drives you. Thinking only about yourself and doing whatever you want without caring if it hurts others. You have no moral nor empathy, Jekyll blamed him with anger in his voice. He felt disgust towards the creature that was sitting in front of him. But in the same time guilt landed upon him. After all, Hyde was what Jekyll had changed himself in.

-But, the creature pointed out raising his finger, -I am what you called out from your. Own. Soul. Then he pointed at Jekyll like a judge that was pointing at the guilty. And he smiled. He knew how much pain it was to Henry. And that knowledge made him smile even more satanically than he had smiled while beating old Garew.

-And, Hyde continued and rose from his chair, -I am only doing this because you wanted to have fun.

The man leaned on the back of the chair and cleaned his mouth on a napkin. Then he threw it away and it landed softly next to the leg of a chair. Hyde asked:

-So who is the real monster here?

Jekyll let his head fall. He tried to fight against his painful emotions. Doctor’s hands closed into fist. The guilt and regret were torturing him. It was too much. Tears started to flow on his cheeks. Again he hid his face in his hands. A silent snivel echoed among the table. For a while, it was the only sound in the darkness. Then Jekyll heard slow steps when Hyde came closer to him. But instead of coming to Jekyll, that cruel man stopped, cut a piece of a blood red cake and put it on a plate. While doing this he stated:

-I think we both know the answer. It is no one else than Dr. Henry Jekyll. But don’t worry. It’s only between us. Everybody else will always be blaming Mr. Hyde while you will be praised by the public. As it should be, my little hiding place.

Hyde walked to Jekyll and offered the red cake. When Jekyll didn’t react to it he just put it in front of the poor doctor.

-Come on Jekyll! I know you desire this behind that gentleman facade you’re keeping! Hyde yelled with bitterness. He took hold of Jekyll’s shoulder and turned his head by force towards the cake piece. But still all Jekyll did was stare at the cake. Hyde looked in the eyes of his other side but saw no urge in them. Furiously he threw Jekyll out of his hands and returned back to his chair.

-You don’t have to pretend to me. I know you. I know what you are. What you were. What you secretly want. With me you can be as free as you want. And no one will ever condemn you about it. Go on. Take a bite my friend, Hyde tried to manipulate.

-No…, Jekyll whispered and continued strongly: -No! I’m not your friend!

Jekyll slammed his hands on the table causing the plates to shake. He rose standing and looked at Hyde with pure fury in his eyes. Jekyll wanted now, more than anything, to get rid of Hyde. Forever. If only they were two separate bodies he would have killed Hyde right now.

The inner demon saw this but didn’t care. Hyde knew that the only way for Jekyll to kill him was suicide. And he trusted on Jekyll that he would be too weak to do it. But a small whisper of fear went through Edward. Even just thinking of death was scary for him. Hyde remembered how the noose was already hanging upon his head. He touched his throat without even acknowledging it. It was the cause of an instinct.

For a moment Jekyll thought that he had managed to scare Hyde with his behavior but suddenly Edward was calm again and said softly:

-Of course you’re not my friend.

Hyde rose again and walked behind Jekyll.

-I’ll tell you what you are, said he and, against all Jekyll's expectations, hugged him.

-You’re my creator. My father, Hyde told and pet Jekyll. He put his head against Henry's back and closed his eyes.

Jekyll was shocked and confused. He wasn’t able to do anything else than stay still. The realization had taken all power Jekyll had left. He understood that it was actually true. Hyde was his creation. Creation, that he had made from himself. A part of his nature that would still sleep peacefully and do inconspicuous harm. But instead Jekyll had woken it up and now it committed sin. All evil Hyde had done in the past months was his own fault. Because he had created Hyde...

-I know I know, Edward started like he was reading Jekyll’s thoughts, - I am your greatest creation. And how you have a father’s interest in me.

-And you have more than a son’s indifference towards me, Jekyll noted sorrowfully and sighed. Like defeated, he collapsed in his chair shackles tingling.

-Yes, said Hyde and nodded, -And I’m so glad that you let your “son” to play around. I had quite fun.

The demon smiled disgustingly and grabbed a dark green bottle of wine. He decanted the burgundy drink into two ornamental chalices with a calm hand. The man took both of them in his hands and put the other one on a table right in front of Jekyll. After doing this Hyde went back to his own chair, sat down and lifted his feet on the table. The grin upon his face was victorious and hurtful. Edward raised the chalice while saying:

-Let’s raise the glass to ourselves. And to what we’ve become.

Hyde didn’t wait for Jekyll to join him, since he knew that Henry wouldn’t do that. He drank the wine on one glub and banged the chalice loudly on the table.

-What we’ve become…, Jekyll repeated quietly and turned his eyes from Hyde to his untouched wine.         

-We’ve become… nothing else than a dual madman! He shouted with anger.

In seconds Hyde started to laugh very loudly and disrespectfully.

-Oh Jekyll…, Hyde said like Henry had told a good joke, -You are the crazy one of us.

-And you are a pitiful coward who hides inside his better self because he’s so scared of the consequences of his actions, Jekyll insulted with a bitter tongue, looking ar Hyde like a disappointed father.

Edward was mad. He revealed his teeth and took his legs off the table. Without any consideration the murderer threw his chalice at Jekyll and roared in fury like a wild tiger. The doctor got hit in the forehead. A sudden pain stroke Hyde’s head too. Putting his hand to his forehead and snarled dangerously. Jekyll rubbed the spot chalice had hit but he didn’t have much time to recover from this injury. Hyde stepped on the table and kicking all the food and plates out of his way he came to Jekyll.    

Hyde took a hold on Jekyll’s collars and pulled the scared doctor’s face close to his own. The great hate Hyde felt towards Jekyll was more than clearly visible in his eyes. A hellish flame blazed in them.

-You are a damn weakling! Two-faced, honourless, arrogant, pathetic, weak, crazy travesty of a man! Hyde raged in pure fury. In his anger, he threw Jekyll on the floor. The poor man moaned when he hit the ground. Hyde felt Jekyll’s pain in his right side but ignored it and jumped off the table. He put his foot on the doctor’s head and that way kept him on the ground. Finally he started to control his anger and stated with a venomous voice:

-Don’t believe you have any power over me. I am the master of this body. And I will have total control! You can’t do anything against me.

Jekyll looked helpless. He answered nothing and just suffered the pain which stormed inside his soul in silence.

-I would happily kill you right now if this all wasn’t just a fantasy inside your subconscious. I hate you more than anything Jekyll. I hate your weakness. My weakness. I hate how I have to be just a part of your personality.

And Hyde pushed Jekyll’s head towards the ground in his anger even though he was also hurting himself. Hate helped him ignore the pain. Jekyll grinded in pain a little but still stayed silent.

-Well… I guess we’ve had enough my dear Jekyll, Edward stated and rose off his feet.

 Hyde took the chain that went up and cut it off like it was just fog. When he did this, Jekyll’s shackles started slowly to turn black as if Hyde’s touch was poisonous. Then he started walking away holding the end of the chain. Pulled by Hyde, Jekyll dragged behind him like a hopeless prisoner. He had given up.

The two left the dinner table and headed to the darkness like Hyde would know the way. Fading away the table disappeared into the darkness.  After a moment, a really small and dusty pillar of light appeared in front of Hyde. A chain hanging in the middle of it.

Just for his own fun, Hyde unexpectedly pulled the chain he was holding and caused Jekyll to fall. He smiled from schadenfreude and connected these two chains together. The shackles were now totally black. Jekyll rose to sit and looked down sadly.

-Mr. Hyde will be taking care of this body now. But don’t worry. I’ll be taking a good care of it. And besides… There’s nothing you can do about it, Hyde said and kneeled down before Jekyll. While speaking he turned Jekyll’s chin and made him face himself. They stared at each other for a moment. One in despair, the other in evilness. And then, Hyde rose and turned his back to Jekyll. He started to walk away without saying a word. Then he started to laugh like the devil himself. The laugh was cruel, insulting and most of all pure evil. It echoed even long after he had disappeared from Jekyll’s sight. Until finally, the darkness was silent again and mr. Hyde took control.  

So this is a little bit older writing of mine but I wanted more of my own content here. I don’t have a crystal clear idea what the heck is going on here but this is meant to be taken metaphorically rather than literally.  If you would like to see more of my writings, why not to visit my DA page here

[luwucas04]

𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

Personally, every day I grow more and more disappointed with the masses of humanity and people with a large portion of power within society. More than ever it’s become so prominent just how people putting financial gain ahead of the well-being of others during the current global crisis we are currently living through is so utterly, disgustingly evil. I’ve noticed that how the world runs and the lack of attention to grave issues regarding the prosperity of nature and humans in general is very unfortunately dominated by billionaires and other capitalists, all with disgustingly little regard for any decency pertaining to morality or the greater good. If they can’t gain from it, they simply don’t care. They are more concerned about their economic status, gain, and the economy itself than the things that have real value when it comes to the betterment of our Earth and its people.

To be specific, right off the bat we have Jeff Bezos. He is THE richest man on the planet. The average person spending one measly dollar is equivalent to Jeff Bezos spending 1.2 million dollars. Adding to this, he roughly makes well over $2,000 every second. He is 36% richer than the entire British Monarchy (or than at least what we know the British Monarchy has). And what does he do with this tremendous amount of wealth? The absolute bare minimum. The only thing he himself has recently done was contribute a small donation of $100 million toward US food banks. Of course, any donation counts, but in this man’s case that’s just like a regular person donating less than 90 dollars: easy and not impressive considering just how wealthy he really is. What’s more, amidst the vast struggling within anyone below upper-class, him along with countless other selfish men are profiting from this. Just within the last couple MONTHS Jeff Bezos has gained 24 billion dollars. Yet, funding issues still remain, healthcare is overflowing, and the working class is suffering. And guess what! Just a few days ago he was announced to be well on his way to becoming the world’s first ever TRILLIONAIRE. I don’t know about you, but trillionaires should absolutely not exist on this planet whatsoever. There are too many injustices to be able to hoard that much money for yourself.

Rich people and even governments are fighting to reopen businesses and the conventional running of day-to-day life solely for the sake of ‘saving the economy’ and their profits. They don’t care about the well-being and safety of others. Minorities and the most vulnerable within society aren’t profitable to them, therefore they don’t exist as something that requires their attention or consideration. They have the privilege to do such incredible things with the wealth they have acquired—but they don’t. They stand by inhumane working conditions within their own companies. They silently watch people struggle and die within the situations they help to ensure. They choose to use their positions of power to prey on and assault others and get away with it. These figures of ‘authority’ do all they can to make it look like workers are being brave for stepping up during these times but do absolutely nothing to ease their material conditions. Oh, wait, the minimum wage was just upped by four whole dollars. That’s definitely going to help protect them from the novel coronavirus and put more food on the table, that’s so kind of them for their generous consideration.

Sorry for the heavy tangent on capitalism, but as of late rich people have been exceedingly getting on my nerves in ways I genuinely cannot describe.

However that aside, I’ve ALSO noticed changes in how humanity tries to bring itself together in a way! In my case, a lot of the bands I like have been providing (pre-recorded from past performances) concerts available to livestream on YouTube and various other insider-personal takes on their music. Those have been really fun; it’s usually on designated Thursdays and Fridays and I have to be awake for 10 am when a concert starts, we (me by myself) go to town for like 3 hours, then I go downstairs to have lunch. Or, a few weeks ago this other group had a 3-day-long (again, pre-recorded) livestream (that started at 11 pm this time) and I ended up staying up till around 3 am with my friend. I had a light stick from when I actually went to their concert in 2018, I was able to sync it up through their app and it probably looked like a low-key rave was going on from the cars passing by. Very good times.

From a non-personal standpoint, I recall seeing videos of people on their balconies in Italy coming out and singing and playing instruments together as a neighbourhood. That was very nice to see, but it’s also worth keeping in mind that is one of the best-case scenario situations and those people were lucky enough to indulge in something like that so nonchalantly. Not to say enjoying yourself isn’t allowed, but it should be acknowledged that just looking at lockdown like that is romanticizing the whole of what’s really going on, as it’s not that glamourous for everybody.

It’s been interesting seeing how people interact with others during their adjusted daily lives, too. I’ll go on walks sometimes and me and my friends will take turns sitting at the end of each other’s driveways and ‘hang out’ like we (well not really) would before. Adding on to human interaction, I’ve seen videos of people handing out packages of things like masks and hand sanitizer to people on the street, or leaving things out for delivery people, quite thoughtful, and maybe one could say even creative, things.

Living the life as you can see (I’m sitting on the grass)

Overall, when all is said and done, in my opinion, I think everything would be much better if the people who are in charge and dictate things A) weren’t painstakingly dense and simple minded—Angela Merkel and her policies would be a great example for countries like England and the US to take notes from; B) genuinely cared about their citizens and not just money and themselves; and C) properly absorbed science and legitimate medical advice and guidelines. Sadly, a lot of people, as you may be able to have tell, are very easily influenced and follow quite blindly *cough* ingesting cleaning products *cough*. But, fortunately that’s only a small portion of the population.

Conversely, this also goes to show other like-minded regular people, in a better light, become closer and stand in solidarity for what they know is best for them and the well-beings of others. Because the majority of us are all in the exact same situation doing the exact same thing, I feel like we can gain a better understanding and deeper familiarity with those around us. And this is really specific, but I think it’s cool how we now get to see some ‘famous people’ (right off the top of my head Doja Cat, Bernie Sanders and Taylor Swift are some examples) just livestreaming or posting themselves existing in their homes and generally having a good time. You wouldn’t get to see that part of their lives too much before. I think I’ve mentioned them over 50,000 times on this blog already, but the other day the band One Ok Rock (whose song I did on the guitar) released an upload of them recreating one of their old music videos while all the members are individually self-isolating.

(Joke explained, the original title of the song is 「完全感覚Dreamer」 (Kanzen Kankaku Dreamer), but they changed it to「完全在宅Dreamer」 (Kanzen Zaitaku Dreamer); the original kankaku means ‘feeling’ or ‘intuition’, and the new zaitaku means ‘staying at home’.)

Above all, it’s difficult to decide whether this has either brought out the best or worst of humanity. I think it’s really subjective to your status and mindset that you had in the first place and what you were dealing with before all this. Adding onto that, we know how the news likes to focus on the negative the most. There are good people in this world, and grouping them together with those who think haircuts are a human right and aggressively protesting in large crowds is a good idea isn’t really fair to them.

As for myself, I haven’t noticed anything prominent come out of myself. The best I can do and what I’ve been doing right now is just following official medical guidelines, keeping distance and not go into super crowded areas, and simply wait for what happens next while staying informed. Nothing outstanding.

Here’s someone’s hot take on the subject matter as well, as much as this is 100% valid I strongly believe it’s worth acknowledging even the smallest good things happening from this too.

[blueraith]

Because I Was So Fucking Bored

I decided to take up reading Actual Published Books (TM) again. A lot of fanfiction was updating as fast as my eternally bored, temporarily out of work, crazed, self needed. It was one of the very few leisurely activities I could take on without getting constantly questioned. I couldn’t decide what fictional book I wanted to buy, and didn’t want to take the time to research any, so I decided to go non-fiction. Besides, haven’t read a non-fiction book in literally years.

In the end, I settled on The Coming of the Third Reich by Richard J Evans. Always wondered how the fuck Germany allowed themselves to be taken in my Nazism, and also because of recent events. My high school always hand waved the World Wars. Like, ‘oh, yeah, then there was this war with the Germans, ‘Murica came in and kicked their asses, saved some Jews, and that was the end of it. Read this diary about this kid and that’s about as far as we’re gonna take you.’

So, I’m reading this book, and I can’t help but draw some alarming similarities to what happened with Germany, and what is happening now. Similarities, mind you, not one-to-one causation, before any mentions of Godwin’s Law comes up. Because, as it turns out, the German political landscape was much more complicated than ‘Eviillll Natzis!’ At least, before said evil Nazis came to power. What I was most alarmed by, was America’s rising fanatical Nationalism and how that relates to both World Wars. (I have also been listening to Dan Carlin’s podcast on World War I.) Turns out that both world wars had countries with raging cases of nationalism out the wazoo. But Dan doesn’t really get into the meat of nationalism like this book does.

There were several reasons Germany ultimately dove into that fanatical, and outright murderous case of nationalism. First, the book points out that one can’t assume that Germans were fatigued or lazy in their voting. The opposite is actually the case, Germans were apparently great voters. Turn outs of around 80%. That’s insane by American standards. These Germans lived in a very different time. Politics were often the center of their social lives. These guys made clubs for pretty much everything. If you were interested in joining a book club, for instance, you’d probably have to join one that fit your political ideals. If you were a Social Democrat, then you’d join a Social Democrat book club. But wait, there are two different types of Social Democrats, because the party split along nationalist issues. So, if you were more into nationalism, you’d probably want to join a Independent Social Democrat book club.

And that’s really a symptom of why Germany fell into control of the Nazis. Their political parties were insane. There were six major political parties at any given moment during the Republic years. (The years following the end of WWI and the start of WW2. Wiemar Republic years, basically.) The Social Democrats were the most popular, but their parliament was ultimately unstable because of how many parties there were, and there could be more, smaller parties, than those six if the major parties had any schisms like the Social Democrats ultimately did.

Another was the resentment of the Treaty of Versailles, which is probably the most well known symptom of the rise of Nazi Germany. Germany, and the world, fell into a great depression, but nowhere was this economic collapse more pronounced in Germany. They suffered a case of hyper inflation, one of the worst cases history has seen before or since, and the treaty was not helping any matters with the reparations. Many Germans resented that their government’s money had to go to these other countries, more specifically the French in particular, while their economy collapsed around them. And this hyper inflation was extreme. Before its start, around four German marks were needed to match an American dollar. Towards its height, well over a billion marks were needed to match the dollar. That’s right. Over a fucking billion. I’m not exaggerating whatsoever. Prices in stores were often written in chalk because they would change on the hour.

But these two issues are specifically German. America did go through a depression recently, but nowhere to the extreme as the pre-WW2 hyper inflation that Germany suffered. We have two political powers, and therefore aren’t as unstable and hard to predict as Germany’s six.

Where we are similar to pre-Nazi Germany is our growing sense of nationalism and paranoia that something is out to get us. In Germany’s case, it was the Jews, the ‘societal unfit,’ and the gays. Ours are illegal immigrants, Muslims, quite frankly black people, and—similarly—the gays. In Germany’s case, many far-right pundits blames the Jews first and foremost for their country’s complicated and far reaching issues. They blamed the Jews for the economy, accused them of getting rich while of the rest of the people’s misfortune. They blamed them for society’s move to secularism, ironically, and for ‘stabbing the army in the back’ during WWI.

In our case, American alt-right figures blame illegals for taking jobs that not a single white, middle class, American male would ever want to take on. They blame the Muslims for not ‘policing their own’ and committing what are honestly statistically rare terrorist attacks, and are ignoring the fact that growing nationalism and xenophobia are causing a radicalization of young, conservative, white males who are actually committing more acts of terrorism than radical Islamics are. Black people are protesting against issues of institutional racism, and white people are attributing this only as an unjust attack against their ‘people’ and ‘culture’ along the right. And the right are blaming LGBT issues for ‘distracting from the real issues’ and are attributing the community to a growing sense of immorality. Also similar to the Germans and their views of ‘the gays’ pre-Nazism.

And, now that I think about it, perhaps our political spectrum is similar to the Germans’ all those years ago. With the split of the conservative voting block into the Republicans and the Tea Party movement, and the Democrats with an as of unnamed voting block that is more socialist in nature. These were more than likely Bernie Sanders voters. Both splits are, in my opinion that I have admittedly not researched very heavily so take this with a grain of salt, probably what caused such an odd choice of presidency that Trump is. He is not what the good ol’ boys would have wanted in the Republican party. The GOP utterly failed to see where the wind was blowing with their more rural and working class voters and didn’t adjust. Just kept throwing up rich white guys with political pedigrees for generations behind them. My own family often spoke of how they wanted someone in power who wasn’t ‘part of the system’ and ‘politically corrupt.’

As for the left, the Democrats had a similar issue. Bernie Sanders isn’t someone they ever would have chose for their front runner. And depending on who you ask, allegedly sabotaged him appropriately. Anecdotally, I have seen many left and liberal voters complain that the system was broken, declared they wouldn’t vote, or even voted for Trump themselves because, while some of Sanders voters were economically left, they were extremely to the right on social issues. This likely doomed Hilary’s chances in the long run.

And this isn’t even getting to Germany’s issues with staunch, traditionalist values. Many Germans feared a loss of cultural identity following their loss of WWI. This was the time of the Roaring ‘20s, remember, and world wide rise of secularism. Feminism was sweeping through several countries, Germany included. Sex was increasingly on the rise thanks to contraceptives. All of this saw a swift backlash of the religious, sexist, or traditional. The Catholic Church, both in the Vatican, and the leadership in Germany, wrote harshly against contraceptives. Men, young and old, of the far-right started ever more clubs against both feminism and voting rights. There was this rather extreme doubt towards the Wiemar Republic during this time. The Army and courts staunchly refused to uphold laws in any neutral capacity. The courts in particular were egregious. Often giving slaps on the wrists for actual political assassins of the far-right because their ‘selfless nationalism’ was ‘inspiring.’ This due almost entirely to the fact that the judges in these courts were from the time of Imperial Germany and still wanted the Kaiser to return to power. The resented the democracy, and so did the army. Many traditional Germans wished for a return of an authoritarian figure as staunch, powerful, and unyielding as the Bismark had been. In fact, here’s were the Treaty of Versailles comes back because Republic supporters had signed it, many traditional, far-right Germans blamed the Republicans for forcing them in this humiliating position.

Again, this is not a one-to-one comparison. Thank God, because America would be in a lot of trouble if we were in such a mess as Germany was back then. In all of that, where we are most similar to Germany is this growing backlash among young men towards issues like feminism and the left. I am on Reddit quite frequently. I see, anecdotally admittedly, many young men grow a resentment towards what they call ‘feminazis’ and, more rarely thank the lord because this term is particularly cringeworthy, ‘libtards’. Reddit is primarily made up of young men from 18-30 years of age. Most of them are American or Canadian, and white. There are some alarming Reddit communities where some of their more radical members’ resentment towards women and feminism is extremely apparent. The Red Pill, and its many spin off communities, MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way), and at its most radical, Incels. Which, disgustingly, stands for involuntary celibate. Now, those are extremists. There is a more general sense of sexism within the most popular communities too. Any /r/news story that features a woman getting arrested is likely to have an upvoted phrase of ‘pussy pass denied’ in there somewhere. There is even a subreddit of the same name, actually. I regularly see young men post about fearing marriage because apparently women are all out to get what are likely, given how young Reddit actually skews, non-existent, imaginary assets. TumblrInAction is a community entirely dedicated to these guys going out, finding the most radical feminist posts they can, reposting them of Reddit where they mock them, perpetuate lies that this is what modern feminism looks like wholesale, and pretends that many of the more extreme posts aren’t satire in and of themselves. In many parts of Reddit, feminism has grown synonymous to crying wolf by ‘special snowflakes,’ ‘SJWs,’ and ‘feminazis.’ Or, women who have become manhating, boogeymen out to get them in particular. Granted, this is just Reddit. I use them as an example here because this is a community largely made up of young men and it is easy to watch them propagate ideas and thoughts among their many communities in real time. I am certain there are other sites where this can be done, but I honestly have no desire to visit some of the more extreme.

Where this concerns Germany, there was this growing sense among the far-right that German women were not doing their duty in raising and tending to the next generation of noble, strong, young German children, though they were most concerned with boys. German women had gained the right to vote, they were getting jobs increasingly, and the birth rate was falling due to the use and education of contraceptives. As I mentioned, clubs were literally made to protest feminism. There were also clubs created that focused on hiking, camping, singing nationalist songs, all excluding women. For the most part, far-right Germans blamed their women straying from the ‘German ideal’ on Americanization. This was also a time when censorship was lifted, and movies, books, art, and radio shows were increasingly embracing modernism.

I’m not about to claim that America is about to become a dictatorship as murderous as Nazi Germany. But with the rise of nationalism, the fact that many white supremacists and racists have come out of the woodwork and homophobia too, it has become apparent that we are forgetting what can happen when these types of ideals are allowed to perpetuate without consequence or thought. Nazism ultimately dehumanized many of the groups they victimized to an alarming degree. Portions of America are doing this to a lesser, but still alarming, degree. The right has grown to fear these groups as a threat against them and the stranglehold their constituents have held for decades, when in reality, they aren’t ‘losing’ anything by the country becoming more egalitarian across the board. And as this is happening, both political sides are becoming more radicalized in response to the other. I cannot claim who ‘started’ the whole thing, nor do I care to. I believe this problem is more along a feedback loop, a circle of cause and effect. It does not matter who started it, ultimately our politics are becoming more partisan. Our government is becoming increasingly unwilling to cooperate across the aisle. And this is creating a political fatigue for voters across the nation. Moderates are growing less in number because the noise, irrationality, and extremism is becoming exhausting.

And this issue is getting perpetuated wholesale, across the board. I cannot even begin to assess how to fix it without sounding like a keyboard warrior. There are extreme and hostile minorities in feminism. And, despite it being a minority, for some reason, groups of young men, like those on Reddit, seem to believe that they are the majority. They react by dismissing feminism entirely, which fuels the extremists on the left, Reddit reads it again.... And the problem moves up and up. The left focuses on immigration amnesty, the right reacts with xenophobia, the left tries to streamroll over the issue because of the racism, the right reacts with more racism....

Ultimately, the Nazis came into power because of a variety of reasons, but you can boil it down to nationalism, political instability, and a growing sense of paranoia from without and within. You can see similar themes in America right now. How to fix it, who knows. All I know is that America’s radicalization is ultimately growing more violent and reactionary on the right. Hopefully they won’t grow as bad as Nazis. You know, despite the fact that there are literally neo-nazis coming out of the woodwork lately.