#she has such a sweet face but her murder glares are out of this world

[jessilynallendilla]

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FAE/CREATURE/NON HUMAN JASKIER  

I Am The Wild  T   

Years ago, Geralt meets a little boy befriending a monster. Years later, Geralt meets a bard. There's something familiar in the way he tries to keep Geralt from killing monsters. "Real monsters are human", he'd always say.  

The Shapes Of Us  T 33,142 SERIES  

Jaskier was a shapeshifter. It was as simple as that. Except for nothing was ever simple with him. Especially not since that white haired man had rescued him. Protected him. Healed him. Saved him. What other option did he have but to try and return the favor?  

We Can Do Good, Together  M 8,391  

Geralt had heard rumors of it before he'd been approached by Yennefer and asked, "How much?“  

He stared at her, unimpressed, "How much to do what?"  

"Don't play coy," she replied, "You know just as well as I do that there's been something wrecking havoc across the Continent."  

Hidden By The Forest  M 15,496 SERIES  

“Geralt, please, I... can... let me explain, please...” Jaskier’s voice wavers and he takes another step back. Geralt strengthens his grip on the blood-soaked sword still in his hand and glares at Jaskier. At who he thought was Jaskier but is clearly something else.   

Salt And Ash, Iron And Bone  EX 47402  

After Geralt’s death, Jaskier returns to the fae realm, unable to live in the human world without the witcher he loved. When he’s attacked and nearly killed eight centuries later, Jaskier flees back to the human world, where he finds himself face-to-face with Geralt. This Geralt is a redheaded, freckled human with no memory of his life as a witcher or of Jaskier. But as Jaskier gets to know his oldest friend all over again— and starts to fall in love with him all over again— a mysterious enemy threatens both their lives.  

The Red Prince  EX 72,058 SERIES  

Jaskier has lived many lives over the span of humanity's existence, and yet he's still fascinated by them. But when he catches word of Witchers, he has to know more. He follows them, befriends them whenever possible, and saves their lives. They know him as The Red Prince. Bloody-handed and handsome. Some kind of patron saint of Witchers. A legend. A fairy story. The same story Vesemir once told a young Geralt the night before his Trials. And many years later, Jaskier meets a gruff, white haired Witcher known as the Butcher. But the man is no murderer. He's interested. Smitten, even. So he follows the White Wolf on adventure, expecting that at some point he'll have to revive the legend of The Red Prince. Because Witchers get wounded. They die. He won't let that happen to Geralt. Not so long as he can retie the strings of Fate.  

Try, Please Try For Me  EX 131,979 SERIES  

Jaskier was part fae. A quarter to be precise. There was an old superstition among humans that names held power, but for fae it was so much more than that. Names meant control. If you knew a fae’s name, their true name, they would be completely at your will. If someone knew your true name you were nothing more than their servant. A slave. All it took was a single command. When war breaks out between neighboring kingdoms, Jaskier's father uses his true name and commands him to marry a witcher as part of a peace treaty. Neither Jaskier or Geralt are particularly happy with the arrangement. But as Jaskier gets to know him better he realizes that the witcher might just be able to give him the thing he's always craved. Freedom.  

Fair Folk, Or: The Difference Between Honey And Destiny Is That One Of Them Is Sweet  T 35,322 SERIES  

wherein everything is the same, except when it isn’t.  

So Can We Pretend, Sweetly  T 2,131  

Jaskier is a regular human bard, and Geralt could swear that yesterday he’d had regular human teeth. They’re just a little bit too long for his mouth, now- too white, too sharp. A predator’s. Jaskier clicks them together, experimentally, and winces when he bites his tongue. “Fuck anyone you weren’t supposed to?”   

“I don’t fuck anyone I’m supposed to,” Jaskier says, a little proudly.  

Drawing Our Destinies In Closer  T 649 SERIES  

Jaskier encounters a dangerous killer. 

Wróżka  G 2,600  

jaskier has a secret, and geralt is trying to find the clues to figure out what it is.  

Beautiful, Fickle, Fatal  M  

Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, died in the same way he lived - dramatically. Or at least it would have been dramatic had anyone been around to witness his demise. As the morning sun broke across the horizon and illuminated the fog that hung across the surface of the river, a figure broke the surface and took its first long, pained breath. The man who held his wet shoes in one hand as he made his way towards Oxenfurt was not Julian Pankratz, although he would answer to that name until he fashioned one more appropriate for himself. He had all the time in the world, after all  

When We Bloom (And We Will)  T 12,132 SERIES  

a fic in which geralt acquires a baby, jaskier saves the life of said baby, and ciri insists that she has a new sister until it becomes true.  

In Your Arms, I Am A Wild Creature  T   

A different version of Geralt and Jaskier meet; Geralt is still a witcher— it’s Jaskier who’s different.  

Fae Jaskier  G 964  

This was a request, but it's one of my favorite things I've written so I posted it separate of my ask collection.  

Pray All Ye Meet Are The Gentle Fae  EX 11,631 SERIES  

“It was remarkably foolish of you, witcher,” Jaskier drawled, his glamour gone and the picture of his inhumanity complete. “Stumbling into my clearing like this.” Or: Geralt and Jaskier take a night off to have some fun. Less fun? They're overheard. If only their dirty talk didn't sound so...incriminating.  

A Deal Which Cannot Be Refused  T  

Jaskier got into trouble a lot, that was normal. But not until he was too late to help Jaskier did Geralt ever realise that Jaskier was perfectly capable of solving his own issues. He has the ability to turn a whole argument on its head, unfailingly coming out the victor with a smile on his face, and the slightly burnt scent of pure magic in the air. Every time Geralt asked how exactly he got himself out of some new impossible situation Jaskier had just smiled and offered a well crafted but purposefully vague answer. Usually relating to a deal of some form, or a favour that Geralt didn’t really know if he wanted to know any more details of. Or - Jaskier isn’t quite human, Geralt can tell that much. What he can’t figure out is exactly what Jaskier is.  

Featuring misunderstandings, very confused and slightly oblivious Geralt, morally grey and at times ominously terrifying Jaskier and some healthy doses of angst.  

The Weight Of Life  M 25,855  

A few years after the unfortunate adventure with the dragon hunt, Geralt accidentally runs into Jaskier in the exactly same tavern, where the said adventure began. Maybe it wouldn't be that surprising (we are talking about the travelling bard after all), if Jaskier didn't look and behave so strange. How else can you describe approaching the witcher without making any indication to what has happened on the top of a certain mountain and simply paying him for killing a monster?  

Long Live The King  EX 47,450 SERIES  

Geralt placed the crown on his head before kneeling at his side, and the weight of it felt heavy on Jaskier’s brow. Jaskier’s path to becoming king, takes place five years after the fall of Cintra.  

He Fell Into A Faerie Ring  EX SERIES  

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.- Or -Jaskier accidentally becomes the god of a village he stumbled upon after Geralt’s post-dragon hunt meltdown. Maybe it had something to do with his new look.  

Honey, Where Do You Think I Came From?  M  

It was little things at first. A glare on his face, narrowed eyes and frowning lips, or a comment a touch more cutting than it needed to be. All explained away with simple enough rational: a bad day, lack of sleep. No reason to suspect what truly lay beneath. Looking back, the signs were there. But he didn’t look for what they meant. What the whispered sweet nothings shared in a corner but never taken to a bedroom meant. What the cutting glances and sharp words at an annoying lord meant. What the lack of a dagger tucked away in a boot meant In the beginning, well, he was a simple bard really. Talented, yes, but simple. And that was all.  

A Crown Of Crows  M  

There's something about Jaskier that Geralt can't place. It isn't the bard’s boldness in waltzing up to him, or how he seems strangely unswayed by the witcher's cold front, or even the way he glues himself to Geralt’s side. Jaskier makes Geralt's medallion quiver and tug at its chain any time they touch. Could be that lute of his is enchanted. But Geralt has a funny feeling Jaskier’s hiding something behind that warmhearted smile he finds himself so spellbound by.  

Rues And Bees  G  

Geralt is sick and tired of standing in front of his oak cottage door and peeking through the peep hole as Yennefer stands on the other side, beckoning Geralt to, "Open the door and let me in. It's cold out here," and replying, "You're not Yennefer, she's in the other room, sleeping. I can hear her snoring." So naturally, he does the next big thing: he falls in love with the doppler.  

Through A Field Of Poppies  T 1,060  

Jaskier dies in autumn. Geralt lays him to rest at the edge of a birch grove overlooking a flood plain on the northern banks of the Pontar. He remembers the place, now gilded in the afternoon sun by wayward wheat having made its way to the rich river soil, where his bard had once pressed a ring into his palm (“How about this,” he’d said. “You keep this near and I’ll know you still want me at your side.” And Geralt had closed his fingers around it thinking he’d take ten thousand golden trinkets just to be gifted with that smile) and he knows that come spring it’ll be a meadow thick with wildflowers. The next time he sees Jaskier, he reaches for silver.  

I Want To Know You  T 2,980  

Four questions that they ask each other over the years they spend together. Jaskier herded him to a table when their drinks were on their hands, talking more nonsense and pulling out of the Witcher the information of the monster he was after. The human seemed to take a weird interest in what Geralt did for a living considering his species who preferred to have the whole continent between them and one of Geralt's kind.  

Sunk But Sinking  NR  

He wakes up with a tightness in his chest, the reason for it revealed as soon as he opens his eyes. It’s not light yet, not exactly, but the fire is long gone and the cold had enough time to settle in his bones. He’s aching more than most mornings, but maybe it’s just the weather’s fault. Jaskier grunts and pushes Geralt’s hand off his chest, the unreasonable panic not quite evaporating from him at the same speed as the details of his nightmare.  

He Sleeps In His Bed (While He Plays Pretend)  M 34,049  

When Yennefer leaves him, Geralt comes back to Jaskier, heart in his hand, anger, hurt, and heartbreak bleeding from it. Geralt grieves his love life with his eyes closed, his body bare and fucking into his bard, Yennefer's name on his lips. On the other hand, as months pass, Geralt's begins to fall in love with Jaskier himself, leaving a huge misunderstanding his wake.  

Ensnared  EX 32,014  

Geralt is hired to hunt a creature that has been terrorising the local hunters and traders of Belhaven. He heads into Caed Myrkvid and finds more than he bargained for  

This Isn't The Beginning Of A Joke, This Is The Beginning Of A Love Song...  EX  

Jaskier sings Renfri and Yennefer to life and doesn't think enough about the effect it could have on two powerful women. And the effect it could have on him. After all; he's the first music note ever heard, not a fertility god.And everybody knows Witchers are made, not born.  

No No, Not I  T  

Geralt meats Fae!Jaskier due to a slight misunderstanding (or maybe its destiny messing with them?) and when Jaskier hurts his wing they are kind of stuck together for a while. It’s a journey that not only brings them in more and more danger and to unknown magical places but it also brings them closer together, if they want to admit it or not. The Fae is annoying Geralt to no end but he can’t just let him die, can he? Jaskier saw the jagged edge of the stone a fraction of a second too late and he couldn't stop himself from stepping on it with his bare feet. He hissed in pain, baring his fangs. “Wait, damn it,” a deep voice behind him demanded but he would not obey. He wouldn't dream of obeying the command of a monster that wanted to kill him.  

Namesake Retrograde  EX  

'Fifty years of meticulously crafted lies become dust in the wind before Jaskier can realize what's happening. Distantly, he thinks he hears the tonal crack of shattering crystal, before his mouth rushes with hot saliva and bottom drops out from his stomach.' Jaskier's glamour is obliterated. It goes worse than expected.  

Welcome, Oh Summer Love  G 2,390 SERIES  

After leaving Geralt and making a home in a fairy circle somewhere deep in a forgotten wood, Jaskier learns to move on. He makes a home in that stone ring, detached from the world and his worries. That is, until Geralt stumbles into his ring looking haggard and weary, trailing a lost princess behind him. Should Jaskier stay silent in his tree, let them pass by him as he rests? Will he finally face the love he'd run away from? 

With Romantic Intent  M 8,934 SERIES  

Jaskier decides that it's finally time to start courting Geralt. He just needs to make it obvious enough that the silly man will take the hint — and, in the process, figure out that he was never quite as human as Geralt thought.  

Of Music And Motion And Love  T 12,412 SERIES  

When Jaskier was four, he slipped his mother’s watch and went to the field to gather a bouquet of dandelions. He climbed back into the yard, as stealthy as a child really cared to be, and crept over to the barn. In the barn, lived a secret. (The man he thought his father said the secret was a monster, a plague. His mother said the secret was his sister.) OR Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother.  

I Come Round Back To You  M 15,567  

He is fifty and there is a man in the corner of a tavern in Posada who hasn’t moved save for the rise and fall of his tankard to his sculpted lips. Julian knows what he is before he knows to know. He should have started chasing monsters sooner.  

Where We Belong  T  

Geralt had many uses for the parasite living inside him. Jaskier could heal bones and regenerate a limbs like it was nothing, could eat the heads of monsters faster than a Witcher could draw his sword; even help Geralt breathe underwater if they so wished. Jaskier was a blessing in disguise if one forgone the constant hunger that came with hosting them. It was not, however, nearly enough to have to sit through the twice-damned singing and chatter inside his fucking skull.  

There's Magic In A Bard's Song (O Lei O Lai O Lei O Lord)  T   

There’s something different about the way the bard sings. There is something underlying his voice, his music. It bothers Geralt.  

As Daylight Dies  T  

The Witcher keeps to himself, gaze downcast, gloved hand extended to his tankard to keep within his lips' reach.  

"Are the stories true?"  

"Depends." The voice that comes from under the hood is deep, a wolf's growl and grunt. The White Wolf, an apt name for the man. A different, darker meeting between Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. It's going to get darker.  

Once Written In The Stars  EX  

When Geralt accidentally trespasses on a fae forest, only the unexpected kindness of one of the forest's inhabitants saves him. Unfortunately, it also leaves him saddled with a travel companion who has never really met a human, let alone thought about how to play at being one. It goes about as well as you'd think.  

Will You Be Coming Home?  M 52,104  

At fifteen, Julian hires a bodyguard and runs away. At twenty, he's quite happy. At twenty-five, he's fucked.  

(Don't Ask Me) To Follow Where You Lead  M  

Bitter irony that Jaskier had fallen for him despite knowing that his freedom was linked to Geralt wanting him gone deep down more than he wanted him to stay – if Jaskier ever got what his heart yearned for, he'd lose even more than Geralt's affections in the same breath. In that sense, Geralt's words on top of that mountain were a blessing, for all that Jaskier did not at all agree with being blamed for things that were in no way his fault. For someone who had held someone else's fate in his hands for almost all of the years he had walked this earth, Geralt was surprisingly scared of destiny and way too concerned with running from it in vain. Jaskier could and actually had sung several songs about how escaping destiny was impossible – her cruel claws would sink into you one way or another, running from it was nothing but a waste of breath. 

Honey, Bread and Summer Flowers  G 910  

Geralt and Jaskier meet at a crossroads. Neither is what he seems.  

Can’t You See I’m Unholy?  T 1,006 SERIES  

Jaskier was dead. Oddly enough, that’s the part he could handle. The part he couldn’t handle, the part that he’s never been able to handle, is the aftermath. The rebirth. -In which Jaskier is a demon that can’t ever fully die and Geralt is witness to his resurrection.  

Upon The Waking Of The Spring  T 2,074 SERIES  

When Spring comes along, and brings with it new life, Jaskier finds the man with white hair asleep on a bed of violets. And, though they’re not meant to meddle with the Fates of humans, Jaskier just can not resist.  

Like Real People Do  T 3,989 SERIES  

“Are you hiring me, girl?”  

After a beat of silence, the two staring at each other, she stands tall and scoops the coin into her apron pocket and shakes her head. “No, Witcher, I don’t believe I am. Just thought you should know is all.”  

He sighs out a breath through his nose, looking away. He grips the mug still in his hand a bit stronger and brings it to his lips.  

“It’s the wood near your professor is why I thought you should know.”  

Not Quite Right  M   

The meat suit ages around him. He can feel it grow every passing year, stretching and contorting over a too-big entity. The original soul died far before it was born into this world. It allowed him to step in and takes its place. His brethren are like vines that choke out trees, retaining their shape even as the mighty oaks or pines wither and die beneath them. He is like a weed with a lovely flower atop it. Mistaken for something meant for a bouquet, but even when identified, still plucked for flower crowns or innocent gifts. He calls himself Jaskier.  

The God Of Scraped Knees.  M 8,342 

Jaskier’s been pretending to be human for so long now that he hardly remembers what it feels like to be a sorcerer. He doesn’t want to remember what it feels like to be a sorcerer. But people still murmur his name with reverence in certain dim halls; Dandelion, Dandelion, destroyer of worlds.    

Blue And Yellow, Blue And Gold  T 4,292  

There is a blue-eyed boy living in Geralt's shadow.  

Fallen For A Lie  T 6,995  

It was a long time before Geralt suspected anything. Geralt had been trained to notice such things at Kaer Morhen, and had gone years, decades even, without missing something as large as this. He could hear Vesemir shouting now at Geralt’s blindness, unexplainable aside from the locked away knowledge that this had escaped his attentions because he liked the way Jaskier chattered at him, the coin he brought in from his little tunes, liked him. Any bizarre incident that arose was brushed aside in favor of Jaskier’s easy company. And there had been many incidents.  

What's Mine Is Yours  T 7,506 SERIES  

Jaskier had always had a set of lungs to rival the North wind. By the time he was old enough to put words to his wailing, his poor mother’s head was grey and her heart torn by the babe who had never once stopped crying. There wasn’t a healer or witch she took him to who didn’t say the same thing: there was nothing to fix. They could treat a bruise, bandage the reflections of another’s injuries that sometimes echoed onto his skin, but there was no curing pain that wasn’t his.  

Edge Of Nowhere  T 1,361 SERIES  

Jaskier needed no introduction to Geralt of Rivia, not when he knows who this Witcher is on sight. On the other hand, this is his opportunity to make a new and different name for himself, a guise within a disguise, and perhaps fame that'll hide the secrets that he keeps.  

Wolf & Songbird  T  

“Do I not warm you when it’s cold?” asks Geralt. “Feed you when you’re hungry, carry you when you’ve had too much too drink?”  

“Well,” says Jaskier. He gulps. “But you never said anything.”  

They may be destined to meet in every universe, but they always stay together by choice. 

And The Seasons, They Go Round And Round  T 2,938  

Taking hold of his emotions enough so he won’t begin shouting, Geralt stands before Jaskier, arms crossed protectively around his beating heart. “What are you?” he growls.  

With a heavy sigh, Jaskier leans on his elbows and peers up at Geralt. “Do you know the story of the seasons Geralt?” Jaskier inquires.  

In which Jaskier isn't all he appears and his rivalry with Valdo Marx is a bit more complicated than Geralt realized. 

Dear Fellow Traveler  EX 39,567  

Geralt had a rule: he refused to accept anything but coin for his work, no matter what was being offered to him. So when a man offered him a creature by the name of Jaskier, he elected to say no. After several incidents left the two no choice but to become traveling companions when they are forced to go on the run, things begin to change between the pair as they struggle to find a way for Jaskier to return to his home. 

The Man From Oxenfurt  M  

Jaskier is an assassin from the school of Oxenfurt, assigned a target with no name, picture, or any information besides the target's species (witcher) and the fact that he trained under Vesemir. His luck changes when he meets another witcher from the same school in a tavern in Posada, and he vows that he'll build a life with Geralt with the money from this last assignment. If only it could be that easy. 

Granted  EX 12,314 SERIES  

Jaskier feels it the moment the words leave Geralt’s lips. A rush of energy flooding from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. ‘Oh no,’ he thinks. The magic spills from him like wine from a glass and before he can grab it, it’s done. He’s bound. Geralt’s wish has been granted.  

Lord Of The Forest  NR 7,521 SERIES  

Jaskier is not human, he is Lord of the Forest, and post season 1 episode 6, he returns to his natural form to wreak vengeance on Geralt.   

Pathway To Your Lips  EX 5,5145 

Geralt meets with Lord Pankratz about a monster in the forest of his duchy. In the process, he meets Jaskier, the Lord's son who is always dressed in a most extravagant manner. Amidst chaos at the dinner time and troubling thoughts, Geralt gears up to fight the monster he has been hired to kill.  

Into The Woods  G 1,318  

Geralt gets lost in the woods. But there's someone -- or something -- else following him.  

Like Real People Do  G 55,687  

A twilight that refuses to wane, the lingering scent of clean, bitter dandelion milk, and a strange man buried deep in the soil of a peaceful bog. Or, Geralt finds a traveling companion in the strangest of places.  

Muse Of White And Gold  G 1,573 SERIES  

It’s been a week and the person is still following him. What’s more, they haven’t attacked yet. Geralt isn’t quite sure what to do with this. OR Jaskier sees Geralt slay a beast and is instantly drawn to the stunning man of white and gold.  

Play Out A Spell In Your Sequence Of Chords (To Inspire And Sharpen Our Rusted Swords)  T 10,813 

Geralt cocked his head to the side curiously to regard the chittering fox caught in the hunter's trap. The beast had deep chestnut fur and eerily bright blue eyes. He knelt, and the creature hissed at him, baring his teeth in fear.  

"I mean you no harm," he rumbled, hands palm-up. His swords were at his campsite, regardless. He reached forward slowly, and the fox didn't move, though it's teeth remained bared. It was a simple matter to pry open the trap, and the fox leapt away, chattering its teeth at him. Their eyes met for a long moment, amber to fantastical blue, and the fox dashed off.  

Sighing faintly, hands resting on his knees, Geralt bowed his head tiredly. He rolled his neck to crack it, and rose to his feet to shuffle his way back to his camp.  

Set out neatly next to his bedroll were three cleanly gutted rabbits, and Geralt paused in surprise. Roach whinnied softly, and stamped a hoof. A crown of golden wheat rested primly between her ears.  

Ah. Fae, then. Services paid for services rendered. Hopefully the fae would consider them even, now, but something in him doubted it.  

Left Alone  T 7,026  

There's almost something between them, Jaskier can see it. An almost relationship. Almost love. That's why the sight of Geralt and Yennefer shatters his heart, leaving him broken and alone and in pain. And well, all there's left to do is go home.  

While Jaskier reunites with his siblings and remembers what's it like to hold his blades, Geralt looks for a way to break what the djin made. And well, Destiny wants them together so, in the end, they always come back to each other.  

Farewell Wanderlust  T 1,124  

After being left on the mountain, fae!jaskier goes dark. Geralt is contracted to take out the dark fae tormenting the village, unbeknownst to him that it is his old friend.  

Of Home And Gentle Hands  G 1,582 SERIES  

It’s been almost a year since Jaskier started travelling with Geralt, and he still can’t believe his luck. Geralt is having trouble understanding the way he’s feeling. Meanwhile, Yennefer shows up with a job offer. Travelling with Geralt, Jaskier decides, is far better when he’s allowed to walk next to him rather than stuck to following him from a distance. From this close, he’s able to see different things, things he never noticed from afar.  

Normal Human? Never Heard Of Him.  EX 6,955  

Three times Jaskier acts suspicious and one time Geralt gets his mind blown.  

What Is A Monster?  G 996 SERIES  

“You’re not a monster.”  

Geralt sighs, and puts his sword away. Kissing Jaskier’s head, he wants to say a million things, I’m not a monster to you, you make me feel normal, I love that’s how you see me but reality is different, I love you, but he understands that what would make Jaskier feel better is none of that. What he wants, needs, is far simpler, “I know.”  

Welcome To The Storm, I Am Thunder  EX 4,239  

They've barely left the tavern in Posada before Geralt has made up his mind about Jaskier. He's annoying and persistent, has zero sense of self-preservation, talks too much and is, first and foremost, painfully, vulnerably human. The next few weeks prove almost all of those things to be true—all but one.  

Look What You've Done To Me  M   

Jaskier can't ignore who he really is, and Geralt's not sure he can either.  

A Rose, But Only One  T SERIES  

A retelling of the ballad Tam Lin wherein Jaskier is Tam Lin.  

Witness Me, Old Man, I Am The Wild  T 1,787 SERIES  

Jaskier always asks to stop whenever they reach meadows, to cut as many flowers as he can manage. He usually aims for white heather and feverfew, and Geralt usually ends up with some threaded through his hair. He assumes at first it’s just Jaskier’s restless fingers and part of his campaign to change Geralt’s image. It takes him nearly three years, and a fight with a higher vampire, to realise there's more to it than that.  

Surprises Surprises  T 2,832 SERIES  

Yennefer isn't sure what's so special about the human bard that the Witcher cares so much, but she intends to find out. They meet again and again and again, and each time she sees more and more. Turns out there are more than a few surprises there  

Changeling Jaskier  T 1,022 SERIES  

Jaskier was far more observant and aware than most people gave him credit for, after all he had grown up among the fae and had gotten himself his freedom. He also knew Geralt better than the witcher thought he did, and he was not above using that knowledge when the man was doing something stupid.  

I’m Lost, I’m Found In You  T 1,190 SERIES  

Meeting Geralt of Rivia had initially been quite the shock. The man offered up his name so easily, thinking nothing of it, and everything in Jaskier’s body screamed mine mine mine. It wasn’t as if he didn’t get first names on a daily basis. But that was from humans, gullible creatures that had forgotten the tales of the fae, the warnings, choosing to live in blissful ignorance. But Geralt was a Witcher. Surely he could smell what Jaskier truly was, if not see through his glamour entirely. And yet…Jaskier felt his instincts awaken and tingle with joy - his mind was begging him to take, use, own this beautiful man with his name. But Jaskier gave up that life long ago.  

I Am Flesh And I Am Bone  T 2,601  

Geralt is pretty sure Jaskier isn’t quite human. He has a list of evidence, really, he does. And it starts with a petty challenge issued by Jaskier one night at a tavern. The list grows from there.  

His Love, Soft And Sweet  G 754 SERIES  

"I'm going to die," he says, voicing the thought aloud. "This is the end of me, dear heart. My final moments, the finale, the fine. Remember me fondly as you continue your journey down the Path—"   

"You're not going to die, Jaskier," Geralt interrupts him with exasperation. "It's a fever, that's all."  

A Wilted Warning  T 1,071 SERIES  

After the initial discussion, Geralt decides it’s best if he explores the woods surrounding the village. There’s only one issue…  

“I told you to stay in the room.”  

“And I told you I’m coming with you. How else am I going to write my songs?”  

OR Jaskier and Geralt search the woods for the culprit. Geralt gets to learn more about Jaskier, even if the bard is acting a bit strange... Well stranger than usual.  

Day By Day  G 1,261 SERIES  

Jaskier has been alive for a long time, has met his fair share of witchers and sorceresses and even Princesses. Some were dumb, some were smart, and some were somewhere in the middle. However, none were so completely dense that they didn't realize he wasn't human by the end of a five-year friendship. He's known Geralt for twenty years. Geralt still hasn't caught on. Now, Jaskier isn't saying Geralt is dumb because the man is obviously very intelligent, but Geralt is…. Well, he's dumb. Jaskier loves him, would sacrifice immortality for him, but his witcher is very stupid.  

The Curse Of The Fae-Child  T  

“I… there’s an estate, half an hour up north,” Jaskier started, avoiding Geralt’s questioning gaze. “It’s not on the map, but there’s a chance they won’t kill us if we ask for shelter. Don’t ask me to elaborate, if I am wrong we’ll simply find somewhere else and forget about it forever.” Forced to go back to his childhood home, Jaskier is soon tasked with some fae nonsense, because fairies do not exist... right?  

A Midwinter's Daydream  G 1,396  

“Either I mistake your shape entirely, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite called Julian Goodfellow?” Her laugh tinkles on the breeze, shrill to his ears. “Are you not sheep-stealer, milk ruiner, or wife stealer? Come sprite, I recognise thine face.” Her pale hand stretches out to pluck a delicate yellow flower from his hair, “or should I call you Jaskier, or sweet puck, and then will you bring me luck?”  

He matches her pitched giggles with a sharp strum of his lute, bowing low in mockery. “Thou speak’st aright! I am that merry wanderer of the night."  

Check Mate, Valdo Marx  T 1,227  

The sanctuary of Kaer Morhen was broken so much sooner than Geralt had hoped. He had a sorceress and three other witchers on his side to fight the whole army of Nilfgaard. All while a bard hid out in the pantry with his child surprise and a dagger in hand with instructions to use it when their last defence had fallen. Except, Jaskier was going to have none of that. He had won this round fair, Valdo was just a sore loser.  

The Voice Beloved By The Trees  NR  

“Why do you not like the forest, mama?” Julian had asked her once, age nine, knees pressed in the mud beside her. His mother sat demurely upon a rich blanket of gold and sky blue—the colors of their house. He remembered, briefly, how her fingers stilled at his question, though careful not to bruise the bud of the flower she was attending.  

“It’s not safe,” His mother had said simply, her blue eyes much too bright. She plucked the scissors up off her white saffron gown and quickly snipped a mature bloom, placing it tenderly in her wicker basket. A basket that was always full of flowers: roses, forget-me-nots, orchids, and the handfuls of dandelions that Julian snuck in—his mother's favorite name for him. For the wild boy with mud on his shins and rumpled riches. Her little Jaskier.  

On The Wings Of Love  EX 5,420 SERIES  

After spending the winter in Kaer Morhen, Geralt and Jaskier get on with their travels again, and Geralt gets to see Jaskier in all of his Fae glory - the good, the bad and the weird. Somewhere along the way they get married, acquire a child and meet a djin. Somehow, they're all good things.  

Wolf's Temper  M  

Geralt never expected himself to be stuck traveling with a werewolf, but when one night of drinking with Jaskier turns into a secret being revealed Geralt realizes what this means for him as a person and as a Witcher. He needs to protect Jaskier at all costs.  

You Don't Have To Hide From Me  T 1,737 SERIES  

Geralt had always known, something was different with Jaskier but he hadn't been able to say what it was until the day they slept together for the firs time  

Curiosity And The Cat  T 2,834  

Jaskier had always been different from everyone else. Odd, loyal, and a touch too curious for his own good. Or Geralt isn't sure what kind of being Jaskier is but one night while hunting a werewolf, his bard's persistence leads to a great deal of trouble.  

Through The Desert  M 3,397 SERIES  

Jaskier is hungry for the world - even before he flirts with the wrong woman and gets turned into a vampire. Jaskier is not a bard anymore, he is a creature. (And witchers kill creatures, don't they?)  

Could Be, Will Be, Maybe?  T 6,445  

“Do you want to hold her?” The princess doesn’t really wait for Jaskier’s answer; simply deposits the little babe into his arms, and Jaskier scrambles to hold her right, sneaking a hand to delicately cradle the head. She’s so small, he thinks to himself a little hysterically, and then, in quick succession, Geralt is going to love her. Or: the story of how Jaskier visits Cintra over the years, and carves lasting bonds with Pavetta, with Ciri - and finds himself as bound to Geralt as if Destiny herself had twined their fates together.  

A Buttercup Plucked From The Side Of The Road  NR  

Alfred Pankratz is barely two years into his professorship when he finds a boy passed out by the side of the road leading to Oxenfurt. A small, adorable child with a buttercup tucked into his hair. Alfred Pankratz is 27 years old and can be described as many things, whimsical, flighty, headstrong but not as father material. He's not fit to be a father, he's not. He'll take Jaskier to the healer and then the orphanage as soon as the healer is done with him. Aforementioned healer raises an amused eyebrow, “You’ve named him?” Fuck he's already named him. Mentally, he rearranges his plans for the next decade or two. By sunset Alfred has already filled out the necessary papers, informed his colleagues, bought new children's clothes and cleared out a room in his quarters. He brushes his new son’s, Jaskier’s, hair out of his sleeping face and sighs a deeply resigned sigh. It will be the first of man  

The Heart Is A Muscle  T 31,045  

The one where Jaskier is fae, Geralt can’t connect the dots to save his life, and, with some help, the pair discover what it means to find your true family.  

Masquerade As The Love Of Your Life  EX 20,667 

“As you know, Nilfgaard is pressuring Kaedwen borders. Our lands are struggling.” Vesemir has his arms crossed over his chest, his face stony. “We have a very promising solution but it’s also our least favourable.”  

The Highest Reward  T 2,240 SERIES  

“What do you want in return?”  

The fae’s smile was anything but reassuring. “Oh, nothing you will miss. Nothing you have ever wanted. I only ask for your first child.”  

His Bard, Eternal  EX 3,678  

Geralt is just about to Kaer Morhen with Ciri when he comes across a village that desperately needs his help. He continues taking Ciri to Kaer Morhen so she is safe before turning back to take the job offer. There, he comes across a familiar bard that he had not seen since the dragon hunt with Borch. Can he make things better? Is Jaskier willing to forgive him? Find out here!  

Make Them Hear You  M 2,514 SERIES  

The first year Jaskier goes to Kaer Morhen, he's struck almost dumb by the pain of the keep, the losses it's seen, and the cries of the land. There's little he can do to help, but what little he can, he will.  

Thomas The Rhymer  T 37,401  

Jaskier, heartbroken and banished from his Witcher's side, finds himself employed by the Fae Queen for seven years. In return for teaching music lessons and performing for guests of the Seelie Court, she promises the bard a longer life, knowledge of the Faerie Tongue, and an escape from the pain that haunts his shattered mortal heart. After seven years of searching the world over for his bard, Geralt stumbles upon a familiar face in a clearing. A man with cornflower blue eyes, wavy brown hair, slightly pointed ears, and absolutely no memory whatsoever of the White Wolf.  

Iron Blood  T   

It’s inevitable that it would’ve happened, sooner or later. He’d imagined that it would be at the hands of some mercenary or a hunter, though. He presses his eyes closed, hissing against the smell of burning flesh as it tears through his throat. In which Jaskier pretends Geralt doesn't know anything, and Geralt tries to court a fae.  

Love/Home/Heart T 34,851

Jaskier remembers his birth. Or rather he remembers his first breaths in this world. A woman, unrelated to him by blood but his mother all the same, pulls him wailing out of the ground. He feels her joy and the stench of old magic in the air, the… the knowledge is gone. Contrary to popular belief, thank you Lambert, Geralt was not stupid. As soon as he’d walked into the Tavern in Posada, he’d known something was different about the bard. After an encounter with a Djinn, Yennefer finds herself with a Fae indebted to her. They keep running into each other.

Fingertip Distance. NR

People didn’t like to touch Geralt unless it was for a purpose. To hand him coin so he could deal with a couple of pesky monsters, to try and best him in a fight, or to lay with him for a night after they’ve been paid. People didn’t like touching Geralt, but Jaskier isn’t people. Jaskier touches him all the time, when he’s drunk and trying to regain his balance, when he’s tired and needs someone to lean on, when he needs Geralt’s attention he will press his fingertips to Geralt’s elbow. And Geralt? He finds himself fixating on those fingertips. Yennefer has warned him, told him that his control wasn’t as good as he thought it was, but as Jaskier stares at him, wide eyed and open mouthed Geralt can only hide his head in shame and blame the summer heat. For all the times Jaskier might have touched him, this is the first time Geralt reciprocated.

Escaped My T 17,005

Jaskier followed Geralts wish, of course he would grant his friends' one final request to leave. Jaskier was done with singing, after all his friend hadn't thought much of it, instead used his silver tongue for other things- much less honourable things. What did it matter Geralt was gone anyway so no one could tell him to stop.

His Name Means Air T 7,062 SERIES

Always too loud and too bright, Jaskier believes that he’s a changeling. He also believes that if Geralt finds out, he’ll kill him.

Out Of The Night That Covers Me EX 37,820 SERIES

Jaskier has begrudgingly agreed to accompany Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter. He has not, however, agreed to being up front about his true nature. Meeting the family is stressful enough without the threat of a painful death.

You Wingless Thing M 26,650

So, Geralt saves the terrorizing for the actual noble lord, and makes himself as unthreatening as possible. Contrary to popular belief, he isn’t a savage, bloodthirsty beast, and he’d rather this boy not be raised under that falsehood - though, it’s likely no matter what Geralt does that he will.The boy’s voice stutters as he looks up at Geralt, words coming out too fast and heart beating rabbit-fast. “S-sir, Lord Erynd requests your presence.” Geralt gets a contract in a town called Eristan, but it turns out the only monster there is human.

The Price Of Wanting M

He hadn't the imagination to build a human from scratch at the time, when he decided that no other shape would truly suffice, so he acquired one in the grand tradition of his people. He had offered the mortal a trade, as one did, and in return for his aid, he was granted his name: Julian Alfred Pankratz.

[possamble]

a few intensely angry/tired marcilles just because

[allurilove]

Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.” 

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness. 

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle. 

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor. 

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....” 

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”  

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.  

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

[berystraw]

Jealous

[P.J Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[Now Playing!]: Jealous by Nick Jonas ❝'𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞❞

Synopsis: Percy Jackson is never the type to get jealous. He just never does. Tell him he is and he'll laugh at your face and tell you you're wrong.

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Aphrodite's daughter reader

Warning: LUKE DOES NOT BECOME KRONOS AND TURN TO THE BAD SIDE, Y/n is used multiple times in the story, violence, mention of liquor, getting drunk and tipsy, and all minor characters mentioned are AGED UP! The reader is mentioned to be a girl

W.C: 2.1k

Percy Jackson is never the type to get jealous. Or so he says he isn't. Tell him that he is and he'll laugh at your face and tell you you're wrong. He's Percy Jackson! He saved the world multiple times and has a wonderful girlfriend who he knows loves him and only him. So why would he be jealous of a new camper who keeps trying to make a move on his girl? Right?

"If looks could kill, I'd think poor little Colin would be in the Underworld with Hades by now," Leo says as he watches Percy glaring at Colin for the nth time this morning. "Woah dude, if you hate strawberries just say so, no need to murder them," Luke jokes, making Leo laugh alongside him.

Percy removes his gaze from the two and shakes his now-soaked hand, stained with strawberry juice. Lea and Luke exchange knowing looks and turn to the younger boy, who is now continuing to pluck strawberries from their bushes.

"Don't tell us you're jealous of the new camper, Jackson," Luke teases, which earns him a glare from the younger boy. That just made Luke's smirk wider than it already was. "You are jealous," Leo teases as well. "I'm not! Why would I be anyway?" Percy denies, but the two know better than their friend.

"If you say so, Perc," Luke says. He and Leo exchange smirks and glances before continuing their chores. Percy only tries to shake the unwanted feeling the whole time and tries to block out the beautiful sounds of your laughter and the annoying voice of Colin.

No, he is not jealous. He's Percy Jackson! And Percy Jackson is never jealous!

"Oh, you are so jealous," Annabeth laughs, along with Piper and Clarisse. "I am not! How many times do I have to say that?" Percy says, annoyed by his friends' pestering. His response only made the three laugh louder and started to gain the attention of other campers. "You very much are, Jackson. You can't deny it," Clarisse says to the boy. "Why are you even here, Clarisse? Shouldn't you be bullying some of the new campers?" Percy asks, which earns him a glare from the child of Ares. "Yeah, but teasing and laughing at your jealous state is more fun and enjoyable," Clarisse says back.

"Why would I be jealous of that Colin anyway? I'm Percy Jackson!" The boy says, making the three girls laugh at him even more. "Yeah, why are you so jealous of Colin anyway, Seaweed Brain? It's not like Y/n will leave you for the new kid anyway," Annabeth says. Yeah... She wouldn't leave me for someone else...right?

"Hey, Perce!" Percy hears the sweet voice of his girlfriend, making him look up with a big smile plastered on his face. "Hi!" He waves back. Annabeth glances at the couple before rolling her eyes and secretly hides a smile. "No need to hide that smile, Annie. I know you're not even a bit annoyed," You tease the blonde, making her roll her eyes and fail to hide her grin. "Shut up, lovebirds," She says before walking away. The other two said they had to finish some chores and left the two couples alone.

"So, how was your day so far?" You ask. "Going well so far," Percy says, completely forgetting his jealous and annoyance towards the new camper. (We all know that isn't exactly true). "How about you? How's your day been so far?" He asks and wraps his arms around your waist. "Good so far, yeah. I've been showing Colin the routes and everything else he needs to know to be properly accustomed here at camp," You say while playing with some strands of Percy's hair.

The mention of Colin's name made him feel a stingy feeling in his chest, but he did his best not to show it. Because the gods forbid the son of Poseidon gets jealous of some new camper.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, noticing his sudden change of mood. "Huh? Yeah, totally fine, my love," He assures you and gives you a wide grin. "Hey, Y/n!" Someone calls your name. Percy and you look up and see Colin waving his hand while carrying a plate full of food. Percy tries to secretly hide his annoyance and prays you wouldn't notice.

"Hey, Cols," You greet back, much to Percy's annoyance. "Would you like some food? You've been working with me since this morning, and I thought you might want to eat some first? Maybe we can sit beside each other too— Oh, hi, Percy!" Colin greets the dark-haired boy before turning back to you and offering you his plate of food.

"Oh, I—"

"You can't eat beside someone who isn't in the same cabin as you, Colin," Percy interjects. "Oh, I uh— I didn't know that. Maybe next time?" Colin suggests, and you nod politely before the boy walks back to the Pavilion to eat with the Hermes Cabin. You turn to Percy with a brow raised, and he just shrugs his shoulder. "What? It's true," He says, which makes you chuckle.

"Okay, waterboy. You better eat now, I know you haven't eaten anything since this morning—" Percy opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. "—Don't even lie to me, Perseus Jackson. Luke and Leo told me that you haven't eaten. Now, go eat!" You say and point towards the Pavilion. The boy could only sigh in defeat and walk with you to eat.

Laughter had filled the whole camp that evening. All the campers had gathered around the bonfire to sing, chat with other friends and have a little bit of fun. Percy sat beside Leo, and the two spent half of the night chatting about things they both took interest in. It was all fun and laughter, and Percy had even forgotten about his jealousy thing for a certain camper.

Since Chiron and Mr. D had turned in early for the night, the campers left behind had too much fun. The Hermes and Dionysus cabins revealed their secret stash of liquor, and everyone had started to try it out, making some campers drunk and tipsy. Of course, before that, the Demeter cabin had made the younger campers turn in for the night to avoid the young children trying out things they shouldn't be.

All were having fun and forgetting their exhaustion before a piercing scream erupted, gaining everyone's attention.

"Let go of me, Colin!" a familiar voice yelled. A too familiar voice for Percy. He stopped his conversation with Leo halfway to turn to the scene that had gained the attention of everyone. He saw his girlfriend with a disturbed emotion, with a drunk Colin pestering her even more despite her refusal. This made the boy see red. Absolute red.

He stood up from his seat and walked towards the scene. "Percy, calm down—" Leo said, trying to stop him, only to be pushed away by his friend. "Hey, man, she said let go," Percy tried to calmly say while trying to shove the camper away, not wanting to cause another scene.

"Oh, shut up, fish boy," Colin responded. Without thinking, Percy raised his fist and punched the drunk Colin to the ground. Campers gasped in shock to see the son of Poseidon become physical with someone who wasn't a monster. Colin was quick to stand up and give Percy his own fist. "Percy!" you ran to your boyfriend, and some campers held Colin.

"Can't fight without your little girlfriend, huh, fish boy?" Colin taunted. "Don't talk to my girl like that," Percy tried to walk closer to Colin, but he was held back by you, Leo, and Luke. "Let go of me," Colin shook himself off from the campers who were holding him and spit on the ground.

"We aren't finished here, fish boy," Colin warned and pointed a finger at Percy before walking away. "Oh, yeah? It looks like it is to me!" Percy yelled at him. "Percy, stop!" you said, continuing to hold him by his arm. He looked down at you, and even for a little bit, he calmed down.

"Alright, everyone! Go to your cabins! No one speaks about this again tomorrow morning!" Luke instructed, and the campers obediently followed the Hermes boy's orders. "You should get him cleaned up, Y/n," Luke said, and he and Leo let go of their friend. "Go to sleep, Perce," He ruffled the boy's hair before him and Leo bid their goodbyes.

The walk back to the Poseidon cabin was silent. Percy knew very much that you were angry at him, and he hated himself for showing that side of him to you. When the two of you entered his cabin, you quickly took the first aid kit from under his bunk and started to clean the bruise on his knuckles and his busted lip.

It was silent for a few more minutes before Percy found the courage to say something. "I'm sorry, love," he apologized. He looked down at his lap when you turned away from him and ignored his apology. "I'm not angry, Percy, but I am disappointed," Percy's face lit up halfway when you said you weren't mad, but it turned back into a sad expression after you said you were disappointed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he apologized again, and a small smile appeared on his face when you nodded at his apology. "I was capable of defending myself, Percy," you told him.

"I know, I just didn't like seeing that guy near you," he said, pouting, earning a laugh from you.

"What? What did I do now?" he asked, completely confused, making you laugh even louder.

"Annabeth told me something this afternoon," you said, playing with the soft hairs at the back of his neck. Percy rolled his eyes, knowing what you meant, making you laugh even more.

"For the nth time! I am not jealous! I just don't like the guy!" he said, making you laugh out louder, which brought a smile to the wounded boy's face.

"Yeah, and Leo also said you murdered several strawberries this morning, which explains why I saw Dionysus yelling at you this morning," you said between laughs. "Oh, my eyes are tearing up, waterboy," you said, calming yourself down and wiping the tears of laughter from your eyes.

"I'm still upset about what you did to Colin, Percy," you said, suddenly becoming serious, making the boy roll his eyes.

"Oh, don't roll your eyes at me, young boy," you warned him, and Percy shivered, remembering how his mother scolded him. "I still think what you did was not nice and very not camp counselor-like," you scolded, raising a finger at Percy, which he tried to bite, but you swatted him for it.

"He deserved it," Percy huffed in annoyance. You raised your brow at him before he grinned widely and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back to his bed, making you fall on top of him with a squeal.

"Percy!" you hit him lightly on the arm, but he just continued to grin at you. "I'm sorry, love, don't be upset anymore," Percy said, placing kisses on your face before you pushed him down to make him stop. "Okay, okay," you said. You lay down and placed your head directly on Percy's chest, and both of you stayed quiet for a little while.

Percy stared up at the ceiling and admired the glow-in-the-dark moon and stars you both had placed on his ceiling. You had your ear directly on his chest and heard the calming beating of his heart against his chest. Percy mindlessly played with your hair out of instinct, and after a few more minutes, he thought you were already asleep when he looked down at your figure on top of him.

"I'm not asleep yet, waterboy," you told him with your eyes closed after feeling him move around to get a better look at you. Percy chuckled, and you could feel the way his body softly shook from it, making you giggle. "Thank you for protecting me earlier, Percy," you said, making him softly smile at you. "You're welcome, pretty girl," he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"You should apologize to Colin in the morning, Percy," you said, earning a hum of acknowledgement from him. "Please, Perce?" you turned to him with your pleading eyes, making him sigh in defeat. "I promise, pretty girl," he said, making you smile. You lifted yourself up from his chest, making him look up at you with confusion. You lowered yourself down and connected both your lips together for a short kiss, earning a smile from the boy.

"I love you, waterboy," you said. "I love you too, pretty girl," he said, smiling.

The rest of the night was peaceful in the Poseidon Cabin. The two of you fell asleep in each other's arms, and the strong beating of both your hearts could be heard by those who chose to be silent and listen carefully. Poseidon's son and Aphrodite's daughter are a perfect match that even the gods could not deny.

[atinystaypixie]

"Sweet" Boyfriend!Geto

Imagine boyfriend!Geto with a tattoo sleeve who gives off “big scary male”. Always has a glare on his handsome face. Sharp jawline, sharp canines, and his dark, long strand hair pulled back. Looks like he would kill you and most definitely will if crossed.

Boyfriend!Geto who is anything but scary to his cutie girlfriend. The girl who has his heart and soul wrapped around her finger. The girl he loves to hold to his broad chest in between his muscular arms.

Boyfriend!Geto who takes his sweet girl out on boba tea dates. He’ll match with her but the only difference is she is covered in pink and his outfit is completely black. He loves making his girl happy and would snap the neck of anyone who put the slightest frown on her face.

Boyfriend!Geto who orders for his sweet girl whether she is too shy or not. He wants to take care of her anyway possible and believes his baby shouldn’t lift a finger. Always making sure she got extra of her favorites and that her order was right. He had the poor barista shaking from fear when he didn’t add the extra toppings to his girl's drink.

Boyfriend!Geto who lets his pretty girl braid his hair because he loves when she is touching him. Making her sit on his lap because it’ll help her get a better angle according to him. Really he loves holding her waist and smelling her sweet perfume. He can’t help but give her kisses on her jaw and neck as she concentrates on giving him two braids as bangs.

Boyfriend!Geto who no one has seen smile, but that’s all his girl sees him does. Eyes crinkling at the corners and pearly whites on display every time she is in close proximity to him. He feels his heart speed whenever he looks at her and feels the most joy in the world.

Boyfriend!Geto who isn’t the jealous type but doesn’t appreciate others disrespecting his relationship. He’s your boyfriend and makes the know to the annoying boy who he catches bugging his baby. You’ll never see it, but Geto has a murderous glare in his eyes making the boy stumble over his words and scramble away.

Boyfriend!Geto who acts oblivious when you question why guys always disappear before you can introduce your “sweet” boyfriend. Just giving you the response that you shouldn’t worry about it because people can be weird.

Boyfriend!Geto who will never let his sweet baby know the fear he puts into other men. She doesn’t need to know the blood he has carried on his hands to keep his baby happy. His sweet girl only needs to know that she is loved and that he will always be there for her.

✨️

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

Cuz I want a scary tatted bf to take me out on boba dates rn☹️

ENJOY!

"Sweet" Boyfriend!Geto Cont.

Pixie's Masterlist

[seneon]

ESCORT ──── shinji hirako x fem! reader. ib chase atlantic's escort. fluff + mentions of alcohol. wc of 600+

thinking about captain shinji hirako who would most definitely bribe or pay or do whatever it takes just to have you in the fifth division. he'd be so desperate about it, even go on his knees just to recruit you into the squad that he takes charge of. and for what reason?

the mere sole reason that you miraculously stole the heart of the captain while he came down to shin’o academy to demonstrate kenjutsu for the students. you just so happened to be one of the students that the hirako had to personally teach.

as beautiful as you can be and as bright your smile can shine, it only took a few hours for the blond-haired male to fall under your spell. but you never even put a spell on him in the first place. all you did was breathe, exist, and learn as shinji teaches.

as pathetic as the man can be, he doesn't ever show it. in fact, he does the opposite. he'd go all “oh look. it's the student girl whom i taught that sucks at swordsmanship.” like bro you did not just get on your knees to beg yamamoto to put the ‘student girl’ in your division…

he wants you to work for him and be under his wing, so he watch whatever you do. even better if he's seeing you make such a drastic change and progress ever since your academy days. not that he's a weirdo captain or anything that fancies a student of his, but your ages weren't that much of a difference. in fact, shinji is the one who ended up becoming a captain at such a young and admirable age.

“i can give you love for free, y/n…” shinji said during one messy night where the word sober left his vocabulary. all on his mind are fuzzy images of you.

“trust me, sir, she'd appreciate your love one hundred percent,” a voice said as they took away the bottle of sake in their captain's hands. the man simply looked up at the figure and looked back down, snuggling his drunken face into his arms. “you're kinda... pretty.. not any more beautiful than y/n though.”

“woah sir, thanks for the compliment. i honestly agree too, she's very cute, captain.”

the hirako glared at his subordinate who's helping him get up from the table so he can finally leave the pub with some guidance from someone of his barracks. “you keep her name outta your mouth, pink!”

“it's punk, sir. not pink.”

“shut up. only y/n can tell me what's right or wrong,” shinji's head wobbled just as his division member sighed and draped his long arms around their shoulders. they were oddly smaller than the fifth division captain.

“come on, captain. time to go home. y/n wishes that you return home safely.”

the voice of his subordinate is gentle and soft, so similar to his crush’s voice. he couldn't even tell what is going on right now, but he just lets his subordinate escort him home, not really in the correct state to think of anything else. although, his squad member uttering the name y/n made him all sweets and butterflies on the inside.

after such a night, the man wakes up in a frenzy, struggling to remember whatever happened last night and however in the world he ends up in his soft comfy futon without ever remembering how he got back into his bed.

he stares at a bone china vase for a few good minutes, attempting to search and dig for anything that has been buried by the headache that he currently has. but the more he stared at the reflection of the vase, the more he caught something at the corner of his eyes.

shinji shot his head at the few bags of items that laid beside his futon, a note of instructions on the items written down. he knows this writing. he out of anyone would've recognised this immediately. it belonged to you.

then a flash of memories became visible in his vision.

“THAT WAS Y/N?!?!?”

note. requested by @imaginingbleach. tumblr murdered me on the inside when i lost your request ask... i'll write an aizen piece soon trust

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 2: Let The Past Rest In Peace

When Scully runs into Diana Fowley - who she thought was dead - a few truths are uncovered. Rating: T, wc: 1,408

Prompt: "It's been a long time"

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

A spoon clinking makes her tilt her head and turn to see what’s going on. Her brain takes a moment to process because it can’t be. It just can’t be. Her eyes are playing tricks on her. So is her mind. She hasn’t been sleeping much, or well. She’s a new mother, with hormones raging, too little sleep, and too much imagination. That is the only reason. The only explanation. She’s not seeing ghosts. Cause what – who – she’s seeing is a ghost.

Her past.

The woman spins around and Scully gasps. It can’t be. She repeats it like a mantra in her head. Diana Fowley was found murdered this morning. Years and years ago she uttered these words. But right there, by the counter, is the same woman that caused her and Mulder so much grief. Who betrayed them again and again. As if reading Scully’s mind, or feeling her eyes on her, the woman catches her eyes. Scully blinks. Maybe she can wake up her brain that way. It just can’t be Diana Fowley. She is dead. Has been dead for years. Scully is convinced she’s going crazy – it finally happened, Mulder, she thinks – until the woman smirks at her.

It can’t be. It shouldn’t be possible, but Diana Fowley is alive.

Part of her wants to grab William and run off. With her son sucking on his bottle, and the ten thousand things she needs these days just to leave the house, she’d never make it. So all she can do is brace herself and watch as the other woman walks over to her.

“Agent Scully,” she says, in that same exact voice she’s always used, “it’s been a long time.”

“It has,” she manages to reply, her words clinking together like ice cubes. “How are you here? You were dead.” She’s not in the mood to beat around the bush.

“Oh my dear Agent Scully,” Diana says with a stiff chuckle, her eyes wandering over to William, who’s watching with childlike curiosity. “You should know better by now.” Her former foe has barely changed; her hair is shorter and shows some gray here and there. Her face is the exact same, just with a few more wrinkles around her mouth and her eyes.

If only Mulder were here. It hits her as if it's the first time she's remembered that he isn't here. That hasn’t just forgotten something at home and will meet them here. He’s not coming back. He won’t be waiting at home for them. The grief of what they shared for too little a time threatens to overwhelm her. But not in front of Diana. Not her of all people.

“Where have you been all this time?” She doesn’t even care, but she needs to distract herself from her pain.

“Here and there.” Diana waves her hand about. “So this is the child.” She directs her words at William, whose eyes remain on the strange woman. He’s slowly sucking on his pacifier, not blinking. He reminds Scully of Mulder when he’s deep in thought, trying to solve the mysteries of the world. The realization at once calms and wrecks her.

“This is William,” Scully says against the lump in her throat.

“William,” Diana mouths, still staring at the baby. It’s as if she’s searching for something. Instinctively, Scully reaches out to touch her son’s pudgy arm. He turns to her and gives her a sweet, gummy grin that fills her with warmth. The smile on her face is wobbly, but she has to try. For William.

“I thought- having seen pictures of Fox as a baby, well, I thought he’d look cuter.” Bright, hot heat unfurls in her stomach. Her nails – they need a trim, she realizes – dig into the skin of her palms. She takes a deep breath before she lifts her eyes to glare at Diana. Between her dark eyes and the smirk playing on her lips, Scully is reminded of the evil witches from the fairy tales she’s been reading to William. She summons Mulder’s voice inside of her; don’t let her get to you. Don’t let her hurt you again.

“But he’s not what anyone thought he’d be anyway, is he?” Diana goes on, forcing Scully to gather all her strength. As if feeling her turmoil, William spits out his pacifier again, smiling and babbling.

“Here you go, baby.” Her own voice is soft; a stark contrast to what the woman watching this moment is making her feel inside. “He’s perfect,” Scully says to Diana. “He’s everything Mulder and I hoped for.” The other woman just snorts.

“We’d hoped for more.”

“We?” Scully’s voice breaks on the small word. “Who is ‘we’?” Diana doesn’t answer and instead, to Scully’s greatest horror, reaches her hand out toward William. Paralyzed, she watches as Diana puts her hand on the boy’s head. She’s never seen Diana be gentle; even with Mulder, or with Gibson, she had always been reserved, too afraid to appear too soft, too vulnerable. The shadow of a smile flickers over Diana’s face as she pats William’s head clumsily. The boy – bless his heart – gurgles and laughs.

“We had high hopes for your and Mulder’s offspring.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Scully repeats, her voice rising.

“We thought he’d save us, the whole world. But he’s just- he’s just a normal baby.”

“Diana what are you talking about?” Memories swirl in Scully’s mind; William taken from his crib, William kidnapped by the Josepho’s cult, William in danger. Has this woman, the same one who’s caused them so much pain already, put her baby in jeopardy?

“I was angry, you know. When I first found out. About you and- about this pregnancy, about the plans. Mulder never wanted children.” Diana clears her throat, turns her eyes away. The sentence is unfinished; not with her hangs in the air. Mulder hadn’t wanted children with Diana. “I got over it when I realized what it meant. Your and Mulder’s DNA combined seemed like the solution.” How sick she is of hearing it. Of being an endless X-file. She won’t let the same thing happen to William. That’s why Mulder left. This is why they keep losing, why they keep suffering.

“William is a child. He’s a baby.”

“That wouldn’t have mattered. But we should have known. It was too good to be true. He’s an ordinary child. Nothing special about him whatsoever.” William is special – to all those who love him. He’s not an experiment, not something to be studied, or a means to an end.

“Then leave us alone,” Scully says, angry tears filling her eyes. She grabs William’s half-empty bottle and she sees his bottom lip quiver. “I liked you better when I thought you were dead.” She says it quietly, but Diana recoils. She finds her countenance quickly and smiles at her, showing her too white teeth. They’re as fake as everything else about her.

“Oh, I will. You have nothing I want, Agent Scully. You no longer even have your precious Mulder, do you?” Her eyes grow darker, turn cruel. “I made sure of that,” she adds, her words breaking something inside Scully. When she found out that Diana had been murdered, and when she went to tell Mulder, she shed a few tears. She had wondered if she should have made more of an effort. Once – much later – she mentioned it to Mulder while they’d been in bed together. He’d made a joke about how she shouldn’t bring their exes into bed with them, especially this one. Diana faded from her memory, had been buried. Now here she is, revealing it had all been her. All this pain she’s suffered through these last couple of months. All this time that she and Mulder could have been together, making a life, protecting their son.

“Well,” Scully says, her hands on William’s stroller to steady herself. “You’ve got what you wanted then, don’t you?” She leaves the coffee shop without turning around once. She picks up her pace as soon as she and William are outside. Tears are streaming down her face. Pain, shame, and relief flood her system. She doesn’t even wait until she’s home. Her shaky hand finds her cell phone in her pocket. “Sir,” she says when Skinner finally picks up. “I have news. We need to contact Mulder. I think,” she says, stumbling over her emotions and her tears, “I think he can come back home.”

[the-writing-mobster]

Where I can read your fics? They seem pretty interesting!

Thank you for the ask, love! Fic links, anyone?

You can find all of my fics on Ao3! I need to make an actual like... Official link post, don't I? I used to have one pinned but other things take priority.

So I guess I'll sprinkle the links to my fics here for your immediate viewing pleasure instead of sending you on a wild goose chase ;)

IMPORTANT NOTE — A lot of my fics are locked so only people with confirmed AO3 accounts can read them. This is because of AI scraping, obvs. TMDG is the only one that I think is unlocked since it's fairly new. But it'll eventually get locked as well.

~

| The What Do You Want Duology | 🥀 💀 |

(YWIW, the sequel, still lies unfinished, unfortunately, but WDYW is completed and currently under revisions!)

Summary (for those still not in the know):

Frisk spent most of her life fighting to survive in a cruel world where her only upper hand was her soul's Determination and her feminine charms. After angering the most dangerous man in her life, she is thrown down into Hell to be ripped apart and destroyed by the demons said to inhabit it. With her soul refusing to give up, of course she survives.

However, when she is taken hostage by the infamous Gaster brothers, she finds herself trapped in the strange, abyssal gaze of Sans the Skeleton. With political and sexual tensions on the rise, can these two work through their differences? Or will they forever be asking each other, "What Do You Want?"

—

| Baby Face - UF Highschool AU | 💖 🤘🏻 |

Technically an au based off of my characterizations of the UF characters in wdyw. This one is tooth rottingly sweet and set in a surface Ebbott City in the 90s. Inspo was movies like Clueless & the documentary Kid 90. I actually loved this story so much I completely reworked it and turned it into an original novel.

Important to note that this fic isn't really a romance. It's more about platonic love and friendships than it is about Frans romance.

Summary:

Seniors should not date freshmen. No matter what. Not even if the freshman is hot. Not even if the freshman says it's ok. Not even if the freshman makes moves. That’s the mantra Sans lives by, and even though Frisk, one of the cutest girls according to all of his friends, catches a crush of epic proportions on him, he makes it a point to keep his distance. She’ll thank him later.

Or

Sans is in a rock band and Frisk has a big ole unrequited crush on him.

—

| The Most Dangerous Game | 💙 🔪 💔 |

The dreaded serial killer dead dove fic we've all been raving about recently!!!

It's important to note that this one isn't a romance. They are (albeit obsessive) enemies through and through.

Summary:

Frisk Starling should've been used to cases like these. After all, it was her duty to investigate. Give the victims their voice back, catch the sick freak who did it and give the broken families the justice she couldn’t have for herself.

That is until a string of murders throughout the tristate area begin to appear. Women used like toys, mutilated and disposed of for the cops and journalists to find with only the tiniest slivers of useless evidence and the glaring fact that all the women...

Every…

Single…

One…

Look almost exactly like her… Frisk begins to wonder if maybe… the monster she's hunting down has turned her into the hunted.

And God, does she make the most exhilarating, delicious prey yet…

—

Honorable mention One Shots:

| The Witch, The Judge & the 3 Card Gamble | ♠️♥️♣️ |

Probably my best prose ever. Genuinely.

Summary:

After suffering a gruesome bullet to the ribs, the vengeful Witch hovers over a dying fire, praying her campsite isn’t spotted by vagabonds who’d surely make her pay for existing…

But as a shadow blots out the stars if not for the two red pricks of light glaring her down, she fears her true nightmares have come to claim her after all; The Grim Reaper, the judge of her fate.

And she doesn’t like her odds.

—

| We'll See - Christmas Rom Com | 🎄 💕 |

I wrote this as a secret Santa present to @themsource. It is very cute and fucking funny if I do say so myself. It puts the comedy in Romantic Comedy.

Summary:

Sans has some inhibitions about Christmas, clouded with cynicism and bitterness. But if there's anyone to make him have a change of heart, it's Frisk; Ebbot City's own Little Miss Mother Teresa.

—

☣️ HONORABLE MENTION SMUT ONE SHOTS ☣️

| French Kisses | Smut | 🫧💓 |

Summary: Sans has landed a well-paying position as a senior accountant and Frisk has a few ideas on how to reward him — one of those ideas involves a French Maid dress.

| The Librarian's Assistant | Smut | 📚💓 |

This one was pretty steamy...

Summary: Frisk's days working as a librarian can get pretty quiet and repetitive... Until a new patron with an obvious infatuation with her starts becoming a regular visitor.

Eventually she can't help herself...

.

.

.

I hope you are satisfied with my thorough answer! If you do end up reading, I'd love to hear from you again on your thoughts! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

‼️ Also — join my discord for readily available updates and fun discussion! DM me for the invite since those invite links expire ‼️

[racfoam]

I think you did a soulmate AU awhile back of if James had survived, but like after the convo Tom had with Petunia about almost regretting killing Lily, would you please do a snippet like you did with James but with Lily as the surviving parent? I feel she would have struggled more to stay in line than James ironically enough.

Oh, definitely, I love both James and Lily, they are just 🥰 I think I was brainstorming the nynn Lily Survives AU.Lily would just spew facts. Also, where do you think Harry got her sass from? It’s from Lily. So, let’s say Voldemort uses a Stunning Spell on Lily instead.

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

The Potter Estate was a big house with an entire park surrounding it. It was a house Lily visited as a guest many times, spending time with her mother-in-law chatting or learning more about pureblood culture to better adjust to the wizarding world.

Now, living here with Harry and herself, the house appeared much bigger.

Lily missed her parents, and she missed her in-laws, and she missed Petunia, but most of all, she missed James. It was an ache that was always present. Like a part of her was ripped off.

There was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” squealed Harry excitedly, leaping off the chair to run to the front doors. For a four year old, she was incredibly fast. By the time Lily realized Harry was gone, the doors clicked open.

Lily fought off the dread swirling in the pits of her stomach.

“Harry, you need to check through the side window first —” started Lily patiently, more amused and finding it sweet rather than annoying.

Harry’s cheer of happiness was louder than Lily’s voice, overlapping Lily.

There were only three people Harry got that excited about. Sirius, Remus, and...

Maybe it was Sirius... He never announces his visits, just turns up and surprises them, much like his brother, Regulus. Regulus was more timid and hesitant, not at all anti-muggleborn (though he didn’t like Muggles themselves) but he seemed the least worst of the Death Eater scouts he sends as watchmen.

Lily got up from the chair, abandoning their warm lunch, and headed to the corridor. She froze at the sight at the door. A tall wizard stood at the doorway. He had a skeletal, serpentine face, with vivid, red, cat-like eyes.

Lily’s shoulders slumped, and she glared at the man who murdered her husband and tried to kill her baby.

It was nice to hope, however short-lived the hope was.

The worst part was that her daughter was hugging the Dark Lord around his legs, like he was her favourite person in the world. His long, spidery fingers rested on Harry’s small frame, on her back; he was hugging Harry back.

It was a scene not many would think real. Even now, Lily thought she was hallucinating, even after three years of seeing Harry and Voldemort interact.

Harry pulled away. The red eyes glanced from Harry and up to Lily; she felt a mix of fear and defiance both when she held the gaze without blinking.

“I brought you something,” said Voldemort. He pulled out a unicorn plushie, offering it to Harry.

“A unicorn!” Harry gasped. Slowly, she took it, studying it in awe, like it was the real thing.

“Thank you,” said Harry gratefully. She saw Lily, and ran back to her, presenting the unicorn like a prize. “Mummy, look! Voldemort brought me a unicorn!”

Lily forced a smile on her face. “It’s beautiful, Harry. How about you go put it in your room with Mr Frog and Mr Monkey?”

“Yes!” said Harry, barely remembering to breathe from excitement. She ran up the stairs with another, “Thank you!” to Voldemort, then disappeared to the first floor.

Voldemort lingered on the doorway. His eyes had followed Harry until she had turned the corner. Lily didn’t like it. At all.

“She’s gotten bigger,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was cold and icy, like a snowstorm.

Lily merely narrowed her eyes. “Yes. She has. Don’t let me stop you from coming in. You usually break down the doors, anyway.”

Voldemort stepped in. “I break down doors when I visit enemies. You are no longer an enemy, Mrs Potter.”

“Hard to believe with your reputation regarding muggleborns,” said Lily.

“And yet, I allow muggleborns entry into wizarding society.”

“You mean using Hogwarts’ admittance book to locate muggleborns and take them from their homes, erasing their memory along with their parents’ and giving them to a wizarding family? Yes, very revolutionary. Very accepting.”

“You have magic,” said Voldemort, like it was the simplest thing. “You are powerful. That is all that matters to me.”

“Three times you tried to recruit me, three times I refused. My answer will never change.” said Lily angrily.

“I’ve put Arthur with Froggie and Timmy!” said Harry, descending down the stairs. Noticing something, she looked from her mother to her soulmate. She gave Lily a pleading look. “Mummy, don't scare Voldemort away.”

“If I could, I would.” muttered Lily, glaring at the tall wizard.

Voldemort's lips twitched, and he smiled.

“Come on, we were just going to eat!” said Harry, grabbing onto Voldemort’s index finger. Her hand was still too small to grab Voldemort’s. “Mummy made meatballs! I helped mash the potatoes!”

Lily watched a four-year-old girl drag the Dark Lord into the dining room. Witnessing the fearsome wizard follow a child without arguments, Lily thought it was the most bizarre thing she had ever witnessed in the magical world.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Pillars of salt and sand (Aegon x oc, Aemond x oc) Chapter 7 (Two Princesses, one dreamer)

CONCEPT: You were once a princess, now you are Aemond's prisoner. You are taken to King's Landing to bend the knee to Aegon.

WARNINGS FOR READING: This fanfiction is dark. It will contain themes as: Non-con, dub-con, dom/sub themes, murder, torture, blood, graphic descriptions of sex, graphic descriptions of murder and graphic description of torture. As well as animal abuse, war crimes, genocide, massmurder, sadism, power-abuse and incestious relationships. Warnings will be updated as the fic goes on

They placed you on a stone bench. You are crying openly as your aunt Helaena tries her best to comfort you. But she has difficulties doing so. It is her words after all that keep ringing in your head. ‘’It isn't so bad. Most times, he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he's drunk.’’ You would prefer a life of solitude and ignoring over the few drunk times that he will notice you and climb on top of you and do unspeakable things with you.

Your friend betrayed you for Aemond. Your best friend, Floris. Aemond killed your brother in front of you, feeding him to his dragon. You had locked up your dragon, Justyce. Your only other friend in this world, and handed the key of her pen to Aemond. Of course this was before he killed your brother. The only reason you complied, obeyed and played the part of being his prisoner was because of Luc's safety.

You should have seen it from the start. The very first agreement you made with that one-eyed monster. He never planned on letting Luc live. He never forgave him.

You feel stupid for trusting him. If you had not, you would have both died. A fate you prefer over being Aegon Targaryen's wife. You heard rumors of his reputation and you will hate being his wife. You know so. You hated being a princess, you always did. You doubt you will love becoming a queen. Or so, a Queen-figure. You won’t be granted any real power. The Greens believe a woman is unfit to rule, after all.

Somewhere near yet you feel it as incredibly far, your mother is having her baby, and instead of being by her side, you are captured by enemies because you were stupid enough to wander into Aemond's trap. Your aunt keeps rubbing your back as if you are a little girl, but you don't mind her gentle and sincere approach. ‘’Hush, my sweet niece. Hush.’’ She tells you with comforting little pats on your back. It's a little awkward, but she tries at least. No one else will risk even glancing at you. You are an enemy. Even glancing in your direction, nevermind comforting you over the death of your brother, a traitor would get any servant in deep trouble.

The birds in the garden sing a mocking happy melody as if the gods are taunting you. You glare at a mockingbird that sits on a branch. Helaena continues to comfort you in her own special way. ‘’I found a ladybug. They say she is a messenger of the Mother. Make a wish.’’ She offers you the bug by pushing it in your face with a smile.

You do not feel like making wishes. Daemon once told you a story about a man. He had a child and a wife and lived as a farmer. One day, he found an ancient bottle. He opened it and a genie came out. He had three wishes.

The first wish was to spend on riches. He became rich beyond compare, outriching Kings and Lords across the entire world. But his child died.

The second wish he spent wishing for an eternal life. But his wife died.

Daemon would ask you, always would ask you, what would the last wish of the man be?

At first you became upset by his tales and Rhaenyra scolded him for upsetting you. Daemon shrugged. ‘’She won't be a child forever. If I don't make her strong; her enemies will crush her.’’ He was right. Damn him. He always is right.

You think now, that you finally solved Daemon's riddle. What is eternal life compared to losing your true love? And what is riches if it takes away your child? The man from the story has one wish left and he should wish to undo his other two wishes. There is no other way.

You look at the Ladybug that Helaena places on your hand. You sigh. ‘’Helaena, I don't believe In wishes or magic. I barely believe in myself.’’ You admit your voice is teary and fragile of all the crying. She glares at you, annoyed you won’t play her game with her.

The Queen forces you to play her games. ‘’Just wish. What is the worst that may happen?’’ A ladybug is the messenger of the Mother. You look at the tiny bug and close your eyes praying for the first time in weeks.

You wish for your mother's baby to be healthy. For her to deliver her child safely into the comfort of her bed, with Daemon by her side. You wish she could forgive you. You wish you could forgive yourself for your future.

The ladybug takes off the moment you have made your wish. You and Helaena watch it take wing and leave the gardens. ‘’I love bugs. No one notices them. No one stops them from going where they want to be.’’ Helaena's descriptions are almost dreamlike. She makes a pretty picture. You never knew your aunt to have dreams that big. You wonder where she would go, if she had wings herself.

You try to get yourself together. You have to be strong. They cannot see you cry. Not as much as you like to cry. You like to throw yourself on the bench and just sob until your throat hurts. The Queen's chest rises with a soft sigh and you understand she made a wish herself.

Neither of you are eager to share what you wished for. You both know by now: The Gods are merciless to those who dare to dream out loud. She grabs your long dark locks and starts braiding it. ‘’I am so sorry, you are to become his as well.’’ His. Aegon's.

Your walls build quickly to defend yourself. What is she after? You knew they were married but you never considered how uncomfortable it would be to share a husband. You never were jealous of any of your betrothed siblings or your aunt and uncle. It was something that stood so far away from you.

It was miles away, marriage that is. A ‘’someday’’ a ‘’maybe’’ a ‘’if’’. So how come it has snuck up on you, poking you on the shoulder and grabbing you by the throat?

Helaena ties your braid into a side bride. You must look like a fool. One other member of your ancestors wore her hair almost always this way. She was as comfortable in ringmail as in silk. She was one of Aegon I’s wives. And she was the lesser one. The ugly unhappy greedy woman. She was Visenya. Braiding your hair, dressing in certain colors, it sends a message to the outside world when you are royalty. Helaena knows what she is doing with this braid. So you rip your braid lose instantly. ‘’Is this a cruel joke? Braiding my hair as Visenya had hers?’’ You bark at the Queen.

Helaena's eyes fill with tears as she watches you undo her hard work. ‘’I...I never had any friends...I thought...You look so pretty with your hair when it is braided. You look as true princess.’’ She speaks softly, nearly muttering when tears fall. ‘’I never meant to insult you.’’ You can't have a friend here. Especially not one like her.

She is the Queen. She is in open rebellion to your mother, sitting on her throne and you are worried that after Floris anyone would betray you to become better themselves. Yet you must play along…for now.

‘’It has been a long day, your grace. Please forgive me.’’ You manage to blurt out an apology, to hide your displeasure from Helaena as best as possible.

Yet she reads you so well. ‘'D-don't your grace me. Please I beg of you.’’ She whimpers as a lost little puppy that lost her mother.

You sigh. ‘’Very well.’’

An uncomfortable silence follows. You both feel terrible by your actions. You rejected the only kind person in this city and made her cry as well. Helaena claims she wants to be friends, perhaps and thought she did you a favor by making you pretty. You look into the reflection of a polished vase. There is dried blood on your face, and your hair is a mess from flying your dragon. Helaena mutters. ‘’ābrar botagon kesrio syt vali find zirȳ gevie.’’ She speaks. Women survive, because men find them beautiful. You touch the dried blood on your face.

You need to win information about Aegon. That is the important thing now. For your own sanity. You need to know who you are about to marry. For you, he has always been a stupid boy you once had a crush on. A silent and absent soul that haunted you by family meetings. Never spoke to you, never bothered you. ‘’Is...Is he kind?’’ You need to know. Does he abuse her? ‘’Is he a good father to his children?’’ You have to know what kind of future you are facing. ‘’I heard rumors but...Rumors can lie.’’ You say.

Your aunt is silent, her face a mask. ‘’The way your grandsire was a father to his children.’’ Viserys was a good loving grandsire and father. He loved Rhaenyra and made her his heir. His love never weakened, not even when his sons were born. He would never replace her, this is what makes the usurping of the Greens so terribly sad.

You are relieved that Aegon won't neglect your children, at least. ‘’So he’s very good.’’ You mutter to settle your nerves. You may be forced to have his children, but he won’t be absent. He won’t be a stranger to any children you may have.

You laugh at your own thoughts. You woke up today, in your rooms at Dragonstone. And now you are thinking of your future as Aegon II’s miserable wife bearing his children and other miserable things that make you want to run into a sword.

The Queen of bugs smiles. ‘’No. He was terrible as is Aegon.’’ You feel your brows frown. Viserys, your grandsire, terrible? A terrible father? You laugh thinking she is joking.

Your laugh dies the moment you see her eyes and they for the first time since you've met her, filled with rage. ‘’What?’’ You stutter a little helpless.

Helaena sighs wistfully and laughs. ‘’He never recalled my name day. I never spent a moment in his company. It never mattered how many bugs I caught, how many hours I waited. How late I stayed up until I passed out in his rooms, waiting by the door...My father was never there for me.’’

You have trouble understanding how good a father he was to Rhaenyra and so badly to his other children. Perhaps he neglected Helaena a tiny bit but surely his other children have fond memories of your late grandsire. Your brothers always loved it when Viserys came over.

You had a lovely childhood growing up with Laenor. He may not have fathered you but he would always be your father. Harwin Strong is your real father and your memories were short and brief but they were true and no insult will take it away from you.

Grandsire...was not feeling well his final years. Perhaps the bug queen is a little upset about him forgetting a few things and attending his duties more than his children. ‘’He was sick.’’ You defend him.

Helaena muses, amused by your words as she defends herself sharp as if stabbing you with a needle. ‘’Yet healthy enough to visit Rhaenyra. Illness does not cages us. It sets us free. We see who we want to spend our last moments with...and with who we do not.’’ It does raise an important question. A question that might explain why Aegon and his siblings hate you and your brother so deeply.

Was this all avoidable, was this all for jealousy and neglect? You doubt it has an answer so simple. The war has been a poisonous mix of multiple factors. It is not as easy to blame Aemond for killing Luc. It not as easy to blame Viserys for neglecting his children. It is a combination of factors, a deadly dance where everyone did their best...and had a part. Yourself included.

Helaena speaks, breaking the silence as she lovingly gazes at the flowers in a pot. ‘’You know, I never wanted to become a princess.’’ Helaena confesses softly. ‘’I always wanted to be...a gardener.’’

Your eyes go wide in surprise as you become intrigued by this. A gardener? What is exciting about that? ‘’A gardener?’’ You repeat carefully to not let her know you think it boring. If you were not a princess, you’d start a bookshop. Not very exciting either, but that is fine. Your books can give you excitement. Or perhaps you would sail to old Valyria, uncover it’s secrets. If you ever would make it, that is. You could also become a knight. A fearless soldier. If only.

Helaena’s eyes shimmer with wishfulness and dreams. ‘’Yes. Surrounded by trees in the open fields, the wind blowing through my hair, a good boring husband who is not a usurper and endless fields of leaves for me to lift and see if there are bugs hidden beneath it.’’ Her eyes sparkle and her voice lights in ways that you never heard her speak before.

You wonder if her bug obsession has anything to do with her desire for freedom. In a way, she and you are alike in ways you did not think possible. You both are princesses, and both desire freedom. And you both live in a world where even your titles won’t ever grant you true freedom. The only true freedom…is the freedom of death. ‘’It has never been easy. Being myself. They all say we are insane. Yet no one is as ill as I am. My illness cannot be helped.’’ She speaks, rattling nervously as she pulls her nails.

You feel sympathy for her. You scooch closer. ‘’Your brother is not healthy either. He killed my brother, fed him to his dragon. You have done nothing to harm or shame me or my family.’’ Unlike Aemond, Aegon, Alicent, Otto….

She shakes her head at your words. Refusing to believe them. ‘’My brothers both have their reasons. We all do. You see us as the enemy but it is not as black and white as that. Life is more complicated than a one-sided story. Everyone has one. And who the villain is, that changes with every book.’’

For some reason that truth upsets you. It makes it seem as if all of this is reasonable and justified. ‘’My mother was going to grant you mercy.’’ You speak. ‘’She always wanted a little sister. She sees you as her own.’’ You know your mother does.

The birds sing in the distance as the clouds roll one by one. Helaena ignores your words with great effort. ‘’Ask my brothers. They have tales too. Only worse. I am the lucky one. You all think me insane and mad in the head-’’ You do remember thinking so when you were little. But not anymore.

‘’We don't think that-’’ You try to touch her back but she grabs your wrists nearly breaking them when glaring at you.

She hisses through her tears. ‘’Don't lie to me. Do not lie to me. You have taken enough from me.’’ You whimper in pain. ‘’You think I want to share my husband? You think I want any of this? No! But I do it regardless. Because it is expected of me. Because ….well. None of it matters.’’ She mutters the last word to herself, a devastating heartbreak written in her eyes. ‘’None of it will matter, in the end.’’

[koco-coko]

Beware the Dreamer's Lie | Renegade AU Fanfic (pt. 1?)

@justsomerandomficsforrenegades

What if Adrian never forgave Nova?

Yes, I will be making more parts probably >:))

---

A mother comforts her child, saying every nightmare has an end.

Well, that’s just a bold-faced lie, isn’t it? 

Nova knew that better than anyone.

Staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but wonder what brought her here. Was it herself or the external circumstances? Sometimes, it felt better to blame herself. Having hate in her heart for so long was tiring. She was so tired. Sometimes, she just wanted to sleep all day.

It was all your fault. You were led astray. You betrayed everyone.

"I will never forgive you."

Adrian spat at her. Those words played on repeat in her head.The Supernova, and she lost everything. Honey tried to sting her death, Phobia turned out to be of Adrian's creation and his mother's murderer– He destroyed Nova's whole life, really. Had he not appeared, Nova would still have her parents. Adrian would still have his.

And yet, blame placed on her own heart felt lighter. She had grown tired of hating the world around her. It made her feel powerful, in a sick, twisted way. She caused the destruction of Nova Mclain and Artino. Insomnia and Nightmare were now dead because of Nova and all her failings.

Take the shot.

If only she could. After everything settled down, Leroy was the only one left. Sometimes, he stopped by to try and cheer her up. Ever since her twenty-first, he'd bring wine if it was a special occasion.

By now, though, her heart was too closed for him to appeal to it anymore. She'd rather cry on her own.Finally, Nova forced herself off the couch. Everything in that apartment held the stench of death, despite the overhaul. After the Supernova, there was no place she could go. So, she went to the one place she couldn't get out of her head. 

Bang. 

Bang.

Bang.

Apartment 206.

The best part? Nobody wanted to live in the building where a family was murdered. It was a lot like the tunnels, actually, except she didn’t mind it. A dimly lit, tiny place that barely saw the light of day.

A couch, rusty TV, a dinner table. That was all the main room held. The master bedroom was even sadder, and the other was completely empty. At least the bathroom was cramped enough to hide the lack of decor. Nova stared at herself in the mirror. Sweet Rot, her hair was that long now? Sure, the past few years weren't her most shining moments, but seeing her hair reached below her shoulders just wasn't a great sight. Split ends and cowlicks were littered throughout the black blob of hair. Nova was quick to brush it, her teeth and briefly try to snap a ponytail on. She quickly gave up on it.

She lumbered throughout the house like a sleepwalking giant, each step crashing down on the floor. Pouring cereal felt like a blur. She only realized it was there when she saw her reflection in the milk. Eating it was even more hazy. What was she supposed to do again? The single lamp in the room flickered.

Oh, that was right. Leroy needed help stocking things. He liked her working in the back, not out front. Drove away business even more or something like that. Her memory was getting pretty hazy as of late. Maybe that was a bad sign. She put the same hoodie on, the same jeans, the same everything. The apartment complex echoed her every step. The door closing sounded like a gong. There wasn’t much left of the poor place. Just hollow walls and rusting steel stairways. 

And so, she went to work as she did every day. Same shelves, same rude stares, same mumbled insults and rumors, same… Everything was so blurry. She learned how to fill her ears with static.“Nova?” Leroy repeated. She hummed and slowly glanced at him. “I said, shift’s over. Go home.” After a harsh glare, he smiled gently. “I left some money in the back. Get a burger or something.” Nova hummed again and stumbled her way out.

Ten bucks was enough. Soda and some food. That’s all she needed. Thank the heavens she had a hoodie big enough to cover her most noticeable features. It didn’t stop the speculation. Maybe she should ask Leroy for a chemical mask. Could something change her voice, too? Well, no, she’d rather not change her voice. 

“Order for… Noreen?” a young woman yelled into the crowd, “Is that right? Noreen?” Nova snatched the bag from the girl and left the building promptly afterwards. How many names had she gone through now? Nova Mclain, Artino, Insomnia, Nightmare, and now Noreen. She still had to decide on a last name, but Noreen worked just fine in most cases. Not like she was going to any doctor’s offices anytime soon. Not like they’d dare treat her. 

For the past six years, this is how Nova operated. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Block out the bad thoughts with monotonous times. Any excitement in her life would remind her of an artist’s hands and lips, a friend’s eccentric hair, a buddy’s strange sense of humor, and butterflies everywhere. She hadn’t seen them lately, but apparently, there was a happy end. Danna and Narcissa went on the occasional date, Ruby and Oscar were smitten, Max found passions in science, the Everharts were going strong and reforming the Renegades for the better, Frostbite was… eh, nobody cares about her… and Adrian…

Nova gritted her teeth. She decided a long time ago to keep from stalking his social media. One accidental like and a war broke out in her dms. It seemed only Narcissa was open for rational discussion. Danna wasn’t thrilled about that, though.

Nova shoved her phone in her pockets and kept walking. Nightmare was the ghost of Gatlon, wandering aimlessly through streets and diners at night, never staying in one spot like. Just like old days. Sometimes, she’d stare down the steps to the subway tunnels, only to lose the contest and continue forward.

And so, life continued with Nova stuck in paralysis.

Well, until one day.

A fire broke out. Was it a bank? Another library? Ah, no matter. It felt the same. The same type of heat washing over her, the same type of screaming– only this time, Nova felt no need to help them. The Renegades always saved the day. They saved Magpie, they saved Max, Adrian, Ruby, everyone but her. She was used to that now.

But now, the Renegades were running late.

She stood steely in the middle of the street as people scattered in different directions. No fear was in her eyes. She’d survived far worse, anyways. Nova checked her phone again. Fifteen minutes. They never took fifteen minutes when she was Insomnia. It didn’t help that they were on the bad side of town, aka not next to Renegades HQ. They were actually pretty far from it, almost by the suburbs. Nova sighed. Maybe she would have to step in, but it was hard to tell if anyone was actually inside the building. She bounced her leg, watching her phone’s clock closely.

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. 

Nova rolled her eyes and shoved her head over her face as hard as she could. Here goes nothing–Then a gunshot rang out and the screams got louder. The blood-curdling screams of a baby rang through the air. Nova’s ears were highly tuned for those.

Bang.

Another.

Bang. Papa.

Nova froze up. Evie was next. A chubby baby’s face was all she could see. Another. Her legs started moving on their own in the direction of the shot.

Three shots. On repeat.

She couldn’t see anything. A few figures appeared. A man made of fire, a burning building, an infant. Everything else disappeared into smoke as her instincts took over.

Three shots. On repeat. A baby crying. So distinct, so painful. She wouldn’t fail this time.

When they finally stopped, Nova found a pistol in her hands and a young man with a dent in his head. Had she… pistol-whipped… blood? Was he dead? God, she needed to get her memory back in shape. The Renegades would finally kill her for this. For real, this time. 

Three shots. Mama, Papa, Evie… It all was so constant, so clear.

Except something was different now. Nova blinked herself to reality.

Evie didn't stop crying.

She looked down. A baby, maybe a year or so old, wailing her little lungs out. Nova dropped the pistol within seconds. Covered in soot and smog, coughing on occasion, wiggling and writhing on the floor.

Nova stared down at the child. Actually, her nose was a bit too short. Her hair was too curly, too. And her eyes were a bright green, not blue. She was slightly leaner, too. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

The Renegades would be here any minute. One drop, two drops. Rain started falling. Nova didn’t mind getting too soaked, though, but perhaps a young child would. She stared down at the crying baby covered in smoke. Green eyes blinked and stared up at her, then returned to loud sobs. Nova chuckled. Was this even real? A baby girl faced with death in a cute little onesie.

The Renegades would be here any minute, and they’d save a little girl. They saved Maggie, they saved Max, Adrian… Everyone but her. That was a fact set in stone. This would be no different. Another orphan would be brought in the arms of a Renegade and someday lead a great life…

But a twisted, disgusting fantasy took hold. Nova laughed.

She knelt down and scooped the infant into her arms, cradling her close to her chest.

Gently, she rubbed her thumb across her cheek.

In an instant, she had been soothed to sleep.

Nova laughed harder as the rain started to beat down.

The sirens started blaring. Nova turned on her heel and began the journey home, chuckling and laughing to herself the entire time. She finally did it.

The baby nuzzled herself deep into Nova's chest, snug against hoodie's zipper.

She whispered, just loud enough for the child to hear.

“I think I’ll call you Evie.”

[hobbit-in-kuroshitsuji]

Kuroshitcember 2022 Prompt Nr. 9

Prompt: Listen to Stolas Sings by Sam Haft. What do you think this could represent?

You can find all prompts here!

All of these will be uploaded/archived to this blog's Ao3 eventually

Summary: On Grelle's Death Day, she thinks everything is fine and goes to work (to see William). Turns out, everything is not fine after all, but William is there to help her... CW: There's some implied Grelliam if you squint? I mean, would William touch another person if he didn't love them? but that could also be family, so read it however you like <3 this has mentions of suicide, death, murder - please only read if you feel you can mentally <3

this is heavily inspired by my own HCs on reapers which you can read up on here. also, I wanted this to be a drabble....... it didn't turn into a drabble XD oh and - the usual "hey I haven't read this through yet, pls don't judge this rough first draft" warnings ahem.....

All the world’s a stage and I’m a player navigating the brutal, bloody battlefield that is love~

The world’s a stage, fake, discerning and bloody. There is no rest for those who seek to portray their souls outwardly; for those who wish to be themselves. There is no comfort. No safety.

So was it truly so strange for Grelle to pretend? For her to make sure she was herself, sand safe, by pretending the entire world was a stage for her to waltz on?

No one took her seriously, yet they also knew she was deadly and capable of chopping anyone to bits if they tried to burst her bubble. But it wasn’t a bubble. It was just… safety through acting.

All that Grelle had gone through had made her sweetness, her innocence, her “oh I’m sorry, sir” attitude disappear. No one dared misgender her now. No one dared touch her now.

But that was also solitary and painful.

Did they believe she was a woman, or did they act along with her to save their own skins? Did they act to save her sanity? Did they think her gender was the act?

Probably… Grelle was convinced that no one understood her acting was to keep herself safe, so people would back the hell off.

She was convinced…

Until one day when William T. Spears showed that their long, long centuries working together meant he knew her and saw through her act.

Until one day when William T. Spears showed that the comfortable lie which Grelle had created of their romantic relationship actually was just that for even William.

“Sutcliff? What are you doing here, you are supposed to be at home.” William’s words came out as a scolding, which considering the subject was a rather odd thing to hear. William never scolded on for working.

But, that day which changed oh so many things about what Grelle though she knew, also happened to be her Death Day.

“I feel not a thing, my dearest,” Grelle offered with a shrug of her shoulder, coincidentally also shrugging her red coat off to reveal more of her shoulder to William.

The man, who’d shut off his emotions in a response to his trauma, caging his centuries old heart off from the rest of the world, ignored her flirting.

As usual.

“And that is healthy, because…?” William sassed, quirking an eyebrow.

Scoffing, Grelle threw a glare William’s way. She stood from her desk and placed hands on her hips. “Mind your words, mister, I am the epitome of mental health – just as anyone!” She pointed at poor Ronald, trying his best to stay out of it by (literally) burying his face into his paperwork. “Knox! Am I not sane?”

Ronald glanced between the two “adults” awkwardly before saying yes with his mouth whilst shaking ‘no’ with his head.

“See!”

“Grelle,” William spoke, voice a soothing calmness in what undoubtedly would become even more of a scene. He never used her name often. So, of course, it shut her up. “We do not work on our Death Days, we stay home and we let it play out. We disrupt the office otherwise-“

“Ugh,” was all Grelle had to say, rolling her eyes. It was always about work with him.

The office suddenly got a lot busier, as a batch of potential new recruits entered with wide eyes. They’d just learned of the reality there were other dimensions outside of heaven and hell. So those wide-eyed looks was the one way to identify new reapers.

“Don’t disrupt the office,” William said to Grelle before turning around to face the baby reapers.

Grelle positioned herself on the desk, watching and listening as William gave a long lecture on safety protocols to the new reapers. No one listened. People just wanted to learn about souls at that stage, and whether they would be allowed to die at some point.

So it was always amusing to watch William attempt to give these lectures.

Othello and Ronald made a quick bet on how long it would take for one of the new recruits to hurt their fingers on the printers no one was allowed to touch save for two who had not broken a printer yet in their entire life – William, and Eric.

And then Grelle joined in with a bet on who would make a comment on “why does the supervisor do all the printing for us if they’re our superiors?” because, quite frankly, it was stupid.

There were no budgets in the afterlife.

Then Grelle was forced to join in. Recruits asked her questions about being out in the field, and she answered them with flat, one word, answers which often were either ‘yes’ or ‘no’ (or ‘next’ when the question was too boring).

Then…

“Mister Sutcliff, sir? Once you reap a soul, do you get a glimpse of wherever they go? Or is it just another weird light like when we-“

“Ma’am.” William’s voice interrupted. William never interrupted new recruits.

Normally, Grelle brushed it off. It was her stage, she was the star, and anyone who misgendered her was simply not part of her play, ignored and never seen again in her world until they did better.

But that day, it was Grelle’s Death Day.

That day, maybe, her brain wasn’t as okay as she had thought it was when she woke up.

That day, the words went straight to her heart, which lit a fire into nerves that shouldn’t be active within a reaper… but which were prone to activating when on their Death Day… the nerves sent signals up to her brain, waking memories that should be in a cage…

Everything seemed to darken around her. To the outside, it just looked like she’d stopped breathing – like a robot who ran out of juice and couldn’t move another limb again. But to her, the world darkened, making her vision smaller until all she could see were her last moments, her last feelings, her reasons…

Until William appeared in front of her, like sparks in the dark, letting her focus on reality long enough to realise he had defended her without being provoked by her own acting… He believed her. He saw her.

“I told you to stay home, Sutcliff,” William scolded her, but despite the harshness in his voice, Grelle melted against him as he looped an arm around her waist and helped her off the desk to leave the office.

Reapers watched, empathetic and selfishly relieved their own Death Days were a while away still. Yet, despite the many gazes on her, all she knew was William guiding her home.

He opened her door with a key Grelle didn’t know William had, and let her inside. He stayed in the doorway himself, though, watching as she let her coat she so cherished fall off her and to the floor, shoes kicked off before she waddled inside to find a couch to disappear into.

And so, William stepped inside to clean up after her, caring for the coat he knew she’d care for again tomorrow, and putting the shoes in the shelf with the others. He closed the door behind him, and entered the living room to watch her sit on the couch, eyes empty, flashing between green and yellow as synapses re-awoke within her brain –

“Grelle.”

He’d believed her. He saw through her eyes, her act, and believed her.

She didn’t want him to go… “Will… Did I really kill those-“

“Don’t think too much on it,” William quickly interjected. “You had your reasons. You are making amends for it now.”

William never interrupted, unless it was to protect Grelle, either from others, or herself.

Clearing his throat, William sat down next to Grelle. “I have a long report to read through today. Let me read it out loud.” Let me distract you.

Shaking from the memories of her last breaths, Grelle nodded her head and curled up into a ball at the other side of the couch…

Things were easier with someone around to help keep Grelle’s mind away from the open jailcell of her past.

William made a new rule from that day on.

No one was to be alone on their Death Day.

And William and Grelle? They were always the ones helping each other.

__ taglist: @eemoo1o-animoo

[empires-au-ideas]

Withered Witch AU!

So evil Sausage is back and visited the Evermoore, how did Gem and Sausage react? Did they finally appear to Shubble again so they can discourage her from going with him? Did Evil Sausage know something was up?

Also, how upset Gem and Sausage is at S2 Sausage for using dark magic again and the Bubbles that freed Evil Sausage (I think that's what happened-)

I feel like I need to reinstate the idea of how really really bad Shelby is at text book magic. She can't tell you the difference of enchantment and illusions or transmutation... over all she's bad. She's very very powerful don't get me wrong... it's just she can't put it to words, nor can she recognize a magical effect when it hits her in the face.

So my point is Shelby doesn't know whats wrong with her, and she absolutely cannot pin what happened to Sausage. But just because she doesn't know whats going on doesn't mean it's not affecting her, so Shelby in her lonely and irritable corruption cling to evil Sausage like a life line.

Gem and Sausage also don't really know what happened, but they're assuming the worse. Sweet innocent s2 Sausage has been taken as a prisoner- either in his mind or in another world- and evil Sausage took the opportunity to weasel himself to center stage. They do not know what Sausage was doing with the Vigil.

Evil Sausage? Can see the ghosts. Like one hundred percent oh my gosh. When he mentioned s1 Shrub and Joey he looked directly where those two were. He sneaks them looks, between glares and grins, and especially gets to s1 Sausage about his evilness, something the ghost regrets.

Sausage was complete deer in headlights when evil Sausage was visiting. Evil Sausage saw this and played to it, making all his extra comments of eating souls, his want to kill, all said while looking directly at s1 Sausage.

Gem was also given a line or two directed at her, but she didn't yield. She held her ground, glaring at the sorcerer as he befriended the witch. She couldn't do anything while he was there, he could see her and hear if she told Shelby what bad news he was, so she had to simmer, control her expression and movement. Ghosts can't cry, but they can still get really really sad.

There is one threat evil Sausage gives to the ghosts... not a WORD of what he is, what he's up to, and he won't shoot them- including Shelby in that- with dark magic. Simple.

So all Gem and Sausage can do now is dance around the problem, as they try and get Shelby away from evil Sausage (once he leaves, of course. He can see the ghosts and wouldn't take kindly to them telling her to be careful). But Shelby isn't listening. To her, nothing is wrong, it's just Gem being overbearing and thinking she's right all the time, it's Sausage just jumping to conclusions. And they've been absent, only showing up to scold her... she can show them that they're not her only options of magic casters to hang out with.

(Also: the "I like you! I won't murder you yet!" Line was definetly said while staring directly at s1 Gem and Sausage. He knows them... the best way to get them around his finger is by something they care about. And even if they're more stand off-ish than usual, the ghosts still deeply care for Shelby.)

[incaensio]

@fatefought sent : ❛ You could live 100 lifetimes and never deserve that boy. ❜ (haymitch and katniss 🤪)

setting : victor's village, seven days after the wedding.

apart of the extra heads on the train (effie, the mellarks, the hawthornes, madge) the first day back at twelve feels a lot like the one from after the games. they hold hands as they play the couple in love, there's cameras everywhere, and katniss breaks peeta's heart all over again. he doesn't walk away this time — instead, he moves in. it's for the cameras, though. it's sickeningly but it's the show they're forced to perform: the lenses focus as the everdeens (and haymitch and effie) pack up peeta's things, walking the tiny distance from his house to hers, as he carries her in his arms through the archway, as they kiss and giggle.

it's fine the first couple of days. surprisingly so, not much changes in the torturously boring routine of being fucking idle around the house — peeta spends the day at the bakery, but he comes home in the afternoons with plenty of bread. he doesn't have to throw pebbles at her window or stumble sleepily to the door to tell her to come to his bed; they just do. they talk, and then they sleep, then they wake up and hit repeat.

obviously, a change in the motions is not what was planned. they shouldn't have done that, and she will never allow it to happen again. she can't. they can't. so she stays in her old bedroom upstairs, tossing and turning and refusing to sleep until it's so hot she has to walk downstairs. her tread is so light no one but the ugly cat takes notice of her (buttercup has something in his mouth though, and katniss shoos him away from the stairs, so he will not wake prim with a dead surprise), so she walks out. the lights on her neighbor's are hard to miss; haymitch never sleeps during the nights, though.

the usual happens: he welcomes her with sharp words, she glares and curses at him, they sit on his couch, staring at each other and trying to ignore each other's misery but hers is just so loud it ends up spilling out. she shouldn't be surprised that haymitch is making a sound with his tongue and telling her about how undeserving she is of peeta. she knows.

"i know."

in a just world, peeta would never have to suffer through her. he'd find a good person who does not have two monsters clawing inside of them at all times, who only kisses him eagerly under threat of murder; he'd be happily married with someone who's happy to be married with him, someone who takes care of him, who gives him sweet cheeked children and never makes him upset. katniss always makes peeta upset.

"he deserves better."

this is not a just world. it is rotten, unfair and cruel. so a good person like peeta gets stuck with someone like her.

katniss runs her hands through her face, fingers pulling curls out of her messy braid, before tucking them behind her ears. she looks dead into haymitch's eyes.

"he said i should have babies." he as in the snake, the president, the worst man to walk this earth. katniss isn't sure haymitch entirely understands, so she presses on. "when we danced." another pause as she grasps for words. "i ain't stayin' in peeta's bed when we're expected to breed just so they throw our babies in the arena."

[insatiablelustforpower]

(Taught) and (rose tinted)?

childhood memories 

I learned that the givers of this world have a breaking point on the day that I made a special vow.

Back when my mother was alive, I remember overhearing one of her and my father’s many scuffles from upstairs. I was in bed, asleep as it was the early hours of the morning, when a loud shouting match erupted from the kitchen. A lot of times whenever my parents would fight I would hide away, as was my mother’s instructions, but if I knew she was too sickly to fight back I would intervene to the best of my ability. But, this day… something was different about the way their fight sounded. I heard my mother’s normally soft and gentle voice come out as a deafening roar, the angriest I’d ever heard it. There was the sound of furniture being forced out of the way and the undeniable sound of flesh colliding against flesh. I heard the shatter of glass— my mother’s cherished China falling to the floor.

After that I heard explicatives fall from my mother’s lips. My mother, a god fearing and honest woman who never swore, who never spoke ill of anyone or anything, who never complained even when things were at rock bottom, shouted at my father with conviction.

‘I fucking hate you! Die! Go to Hell!’

I was taken aback. I have never heard her in such a state before. While my mother shouted and screamed, I heard my father’s voice less and less, until eventually all I heard him say was ‘Stop… Stop it… Stop…!’

My legs carried me quietly from my bed to the stairs slowly. I still heard my mother shouting, swearing, completely beside herself. By now Dario’s protests had subsided.

When I peaked into the kitchen doorway, I saw my mother on top of my father, a knife raised high above her head.

“Goodbye,” she said to him, her voice frigid and calm. I have never heard her sound like this either.

The scene before me filled me with an indescribable feeling. Although a chill ran down my spine, my heart skipped a beat, and I felt something akin to admiration and affection for my mother spread throughout my body. I sucked in an involuntary gasp as the knife swung down, aiming for my father’s chest, and that noise caused my mother’s head to snap towards me.

When she laid her eyes on me, they were wide and wild. She glared at me, something she has never done, until her brain caught up with the situation at hand. When she realized that she was looking at me, her eyes immediately softened, a smile spreading across her face.

“Did we wake you, sweetie?”

Wordlessly I nodded.

My mother sighed. “I’m sorry, things got a little bit heated.” She rose to her feet, gingerly placing the knife back in the drawer. “I promise we won’t be so loud for the rest of the day.”

She took my hand, her usual gentle smile on her face, and led me back upstairs to my room. I could hear my father scrambling to his feet and bolting out the door from behind us.

He did not return home for the remainder of the day, so the house was quiet and peaceful.

Later that evening my mother was gently washing my hair, her smile present on her face. “Dio, dear. I have an idea, would you like to help me make it come true?”

I looked over my shoulder to peer into her eyes. “Yes, what is it?”

“First, you have to promise me you will not tell your father. This can be a mother-son secret.”

“Of course,” I agree. The curiosity was eating at me.

“I want you to help me kill your father. When he is gone, I’ll send you off to a good school.”

The blood in my veins froze, but at the same time I felt that same warm, tingling sensation spread from my chest through the rest of my body. The woman who I believed wouldn’t ever hurt a fly planned to murder my leech of a father? The woman whose hugs were like rays of sunshine in a flower garden, whose kisses were sweet and comforting, whose touch made me feel indescribable things was capable of such thoughts?

I then thought back to when I saw my mother on top of my father, the knife raised high above her head. The chilling look in her eyes as she looked down at him with all the contempt in the world. Her simple goodbye to him before she swung the knife down to his chest, only stopping because she sensed my presence.

Perhaps my giver of a mother had no qualms about taking every now and then, even if it were a life.

“It will be our secret, our vow to each other for a better life. Will you help me, Dio?”

“Yes, mother,” I replied without a moment of hesitation. I felt her grab my hand and press her lips to my knuckles, and I did the same to hers.

In this world there are givers and there are takers. In order to survive, the takers of this world take from the givers until they are nothing but a hollowed out husk, and then they move onto the next victim. Sometimes, the givers reach their limit, and for the moment they become takers.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 8958

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