#the whole town loves both of them and doesn’t get why she’s grumpy at him in public

[scientistservant]

Calico, tortoiseshell and sphynx for the cat themed ask game!

- @selfship-shenanigans

Cat-themed self ship ask game

Calico: Do you consider yourself lucky that you met your f/o? Do they consider themselves lucky that they met you? Why?

Speaking as myself and not my self-insert for a moment, I certainly feel lucky to have “met” Fink. He’s someone I really need in my life, I think. Sure, he’s grumpy and conventionally unattractive, but I feel better when I think about him or even his late voice actor. When I’m having my various anxiety attacks I try to imagine what he would say to calm me down; I do this with my other f/os as well, but for some reason it doesn’t help as much? Maybe it’s because the Doctor has been in my life for so long - since I was fifteen, at least! I didn’t know what self shipping or fictosexuality was back then, but he was seemingly always in the back of my mind. I don’t know. Finkelstein’s extremely important to me, and I’m so happy to have him.

Sorry, this was getting kind of silly ;3;

As for Fink, I think he’s glad to have met Alice. She’s her own person from the start; she wasn’t a creation or even a member of the town, she was from a witch coven out in the Hinterlands, a complete stranger. And she makes potions that AREN’T used for drugging :’)

Tortoiseshell: Who has the worse temper? Can you get snippy with each other?

Finkelstein definitely is the spicier of the two. He and Alice normally don’t fight but sometimes small, childish arguments still do happen. Fink gets more of a temper when he’s tired, has had a long day, and/or is constantly interrupted while he’s working. No one is off-limits when it comes to getting the full force of his grumpiness, not even Jack. At the end of it all, though, there will be an apology given.

Alice has much less anger, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a temper. God help you if any of her loved ones are hurt, especially the Doctor. She has claws and fangs and knows how to use them.

Sphynx: Who prefers wearing sweaters the most? Neither, both? Do either of you knit? Would you ever wear matching sweaters?

I can see the Doctor wearing a sweater of some kind if he’s really cold, and if Alice basically begs him to. He’s stubborn like that. Alice would wear a sweater to convince Fink to wear his, even if it’s one of those ugly Christmas sweaters…

Okay, I just thought of Jack bringing back a whole box of Christmas sweaters from Christmas Town for everyone in town to wear and damn it, it’s too cute. I have to draw this now 😭

[its-monster-mash]

i know you havent written for doomhead in a while but i found one of your older imagines posts and i was wondering if you could perhaps write something for doomhead with a blasphemy kink? him as a priest or anything like that. thank you and have a nice day <3

ABSOLUTELY!!! I LOVE this request; Blasphemy is kind of ✨My Thing✨ so I was really excited to write this!! It’s been a while since I’ve written in Imagine Format, so I apologize if the pacing is a bit awkward. It does start a little slow, building up to WHY Doomhead is a Priest now, and why The Reader crossed paths with him.

Summary: Doomhead has to relocate following a loss at 31, ends up masquerading as a Priest in a small town. Reader is the Survivor of 31, who skipped town because she thinks that if she told the truth, no one would believe her and she’d be arrested for the murders of her band mates. Reader of course ends up at the same town as Doomhead.

Content Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, Blasphemy Fetish(of course), Implied sex

Fake Priest!Doomhead X Survivor!Reader Imagines

Blasphemy Kink

• This was the kind of conclusion to The Yearly Festivities he hated most; wholly unsatisfying without so much as a glimpse of the last target’s face. No fun when they’re too good at hiding.

• To top it all off, this of course meant he had to go on the move again; after all, he hadn’t seen them, but he’d bet the sneaky little rat wouldn’t forget the sight of him. Probably went straight to a Police Sketch Artist...he had to reinvent himself if he wanted to keep doing what he does best...go someplace no one would ever expect.

• He was wrong though. You, the Sole Survivor of that year’s game of “31”, didn’t go to the Police...you didn’t go to anyone. Who would believe you? At best you’d be institutionalized for your “Delusions”, at worst...well, you’d be damned if you were going to give that pompous shitdick judge the opportunity to look you in the eye and charge you with the murder of your band mates.

• It wouldn’t be too big a leap; it was no secret that you’d been at each others’ throats for months now. No one would care enough about a group of small-time musicians to actually care about the truth.

• No, it was best that you “died” with them. Getting a fake ID was easy enough, now you just had to find a new place to start over...

• When you finally felt like you were far enough from home that no one would recognize you, you stopped at a town off the highway...way way out in the middle of nowhere.

• The people seemed friendly, but not friendly enough to bother asking questions, and that suited you fine. It wasn’t exactly what you were used to, but that’s kind of the point isn’t it? This little haystack hick town would be the absolute last place anyone would expect to find you...if anyone bothered to look in the first place.

• You weren’t exactly the most religious, but in small towns like these churches tend to have their grubby little hands on just about every aspect of life; you figured they’d be your best shot at finding someone to point you in the right direction as far as a job goes-shit, maybe they could help you into some cheap housing. You really weren’t picky at this point; hard to feel safe sleeping in your van after Satan’s little Halloween Party.

• Besides, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten; and Sunday Morning Services tend to conclude with coffee and doughnuts, so it was unlikely to be a total bust.

• It was unseasonably warm, so you were able to slip near silently into the building through the propped-open door; settling neatly into a pew in the back row where it would be easy enough to wait out the God Talk.

• You had intended on ignoring the sermon, maybe even sneaking a little nap, but the Priest’s voice carried through the echoing halls with a flourish reserved for men who love to hear themselves talk.

• He was more performing than preaching, the rhythm of his voice doing absolutely nothing to lessen the lewd undertones of Solomon’s “Song of Songs”. You had heard it plenty of times when you were made to attend church as a child, and if it was genuinely written about Capital-G God like the Priests say, then God had a seriously nice set of tits.

• You took notice of the old ladies in the front row nodding along; no doubt this was the highlight of their day...not that anyone wants to admit to being hot for the Preacher.

• When it came time to take communion, you fell in line with the rest of the community, receiving a few sideways glances. Not that you really faulted them for it, you were after all, a bedraggled stranger.

• When you get close enough to the alter to really see the Priest your heartbeat quickens; something deep and primal within you begs you to tuck tail and run, but by the time you will your legs to function it’s your turn.

• The Priest smiles at you, almost smugly, and bids you kneel at the velvet alter; you think you must be imagining the sadistic gleam in his eyes.

• You do as he asks, too deep now to decline without looking odd to the townspeople.

• You look up at him helplessly as his hand cups your face a bit too tenderly, a shameful heat pooling between your thighs when his thumb coaxes your mouth open. He tips the silver chalice to your lips just long enough to give you a taste of horribly dry wine.

• Your instinct is to recoil with a gag, remembering the awful church wine of your youth, but he doesn’t let you go, gazing down at you expectantly with the communion wafer pinched between his long fingers.

• It feels indecent the way he’s looking at you, and you can’t help but feel as though he gets off on this, the Power Imbalance of his position. You can’t help feeling like Prey under his predatory eyes, but you were never one for reverence.

• You let your tongue slip out, just a bit more than necessary; teasing if he’s hot for this, hardly noticeable if you’re wrong. You shudder as he presses the wafer to your tongue, holding it there a bit longer than he has to while his eyes threaten to drown your own in their intensity.

• “Partake of the Body of Christ, and May his Peace fill you with Salvation,” he says as his fingers slip from your mouth.

• “Amen,” you say, according to custom, face flushed from the sultry tone of his voice.

• You gather yourself, mentally dressing yourself now that his gaze has left your form as you hurry back to the pew; your fellow churchgoers none the wiser in regards to the indecency of your exchange; perhaps you’re the one imagining things.

• Once the service is over, and your teeth are cracking the glaze on a delicious locally supplied doughnut, you feel a firm hand cup your shoulder.

• “Coming home, or passing through?”

• The Priest’s voice catches you off guard, the warm twang piercing through you and making you shiver.

• He explained that he himself was a recent arrival, and that it is a pleasure to meet someone else who plans on making this...quaint little town home.

• You can’t help but feel like he’s studying you, appraising, looking for something he won’t say out loud. “You seem awfully nervous in a House of God.”

• You admit to him that you haven’t been to church in quite some time; you only came because you need help, and you’re not sure where else to go.

• You meant material assistance; shelter, a job, but his gaze pierces you where you stand. “Yes, of course. The Church, such that it is, can aid you with those things...However, Confessional is always open for matters of the Soul.”

• You sleep in the Church that night, a cot made up for you in the room where the extra books are kept; you feel safer than you have since you escaped that Hell Hole...and yet you can’t fall asleep.

• The Priest’s words and strange nature claw at you, and you begin to wonder if maybe you should Confess; Priests are forbidden to speak of what they hear in confessional, right? You never were one for Religion; your family spoiled that for you, but you did make it out of that twisted game alive, and only a little wounded...relatively speaking...maybe there was a higher power looking after you.

• Maybe you were just lucky.

• Your chest tightens as you reach for the handle on the small wooden door; you were never claustrophobic, but after squeezing into such a tight space and waiting out the Killer Clowns for a painful three hours, you’re a bit on edge entering the tiny candle lit room.

• You apologize, unsure of what you’re even supposed to say. You know there’s specific rules to them; but like much of your childhood, those memories have been blocked out for a long time.

• “Bless Me Father, for I have Sinned.”

• His voice startles you, making your heart pound. You hadn’t honestly expected anyone to actually be sitting in the booth this late, and the whisky smoothness of his voice reminds you of your sinful thoughts during communion. You’re glad he can’t see the flush to your cheeks.

• “Bless me Father, for I have Sinned,” you repeat, trying to still your racing heart. “You...you can’t share this information with anyone, right? Whatever I say is between us?”

• “Between us and God,” he replies, almost cheekily.

• “Right,” you sigh, satisfied that this won’t come back to bite you in the ass.

• In truth, he believes you’re about to confess your lust for him, and he’s already thinking up all the ways he wants to disgrace your body in the eyes of a fairy tail god. He plans on sweet talking you, assuring you that your desires are a gift from ‘The Lord’. He wants to make you his private whore, a secret ‘between us and God’...Your actual confession hits him like a club to the chest.

• You tell him all about 31, the grizzly deaths you witnessed, how you mercy killed your band’s keyboardist after finishing off the fucker who put a chainsaw through her gut; how you skipped town, and how you’re absolutely terrified the cops wouldn’t believe you if you tried to fess up. All is silent, and for a moment you’re terrified you’ve grossly misjudged the sanctity of Confessional, and soon you’ll be locked up at the police station...

• You reach for the door handle, attempting to make your escape, skip town like you did your home, but to your surprise the door is ripped open, and the Priest forces his way inside, clicking the lock shut behind him.

• He’s too tall to stand fully in the little room, and your body is crushed against the wall, knee bent awkwardly against the wooden bench seat.

• His hand’s around your throat, his breath hot against your ear. “Well well, Sweet Eurydice, you escaped The Underworld, but it seems as though Orpheus looked back. Do you remember me?”

• Your chest aches from the torturous pounding of your heart, sheer terror enveloping your senses. You hadn’t seen much from your hiding place in 31; your glasses broken and blood dripping into your eyes, but in this moment, trapped in Confessional with the man, there’s no question as to who he is.

• You remember hearing those horrible people announce him from your hiding spot. “Doomhead,” you whisper, because that’s what they called him. You remember watching him gut your Bassist, taking his sweet time setting up a gruesome sculpture for the others to find. You also remember him going absolutely mad trying to find you after he had killed the others; and the way he threw a fit after ‘Game Over’ was called.

• “You cost me a pretty penny...see, I don’t win, I don’t get paid. The folks up top pay me a lot of scratch to do what I do best...but only if I get the job done.”

• You shudder, struggling against him to no avail. You are going to die here.

• He squeezes your neck a couple of times to get your attention, as though he had ever lost it. “Easy girl; it’s too late now, game’s over. I kill you now and all I get is a mess to deal with. I don’t need to kill you, you said it yourself you can’t go to the cops.”

• “Then what the fuck do you want from me?” You choke out.

• He catches your ear between his teeth, just a bit too roughly, and you gasp. “You were pretty bold on the Alter today,” he muses, his free hand fiddling with the button on your jeans. “I want to make you see Jesus.”

• You’re not sure whether to be disgusted with yourself or relieved that the terror you feel is giving way to your earlier lust, but you make a decision.

• Fuck it.

• Before he has a chance to react, you grab the back of his hair and yank, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

• “Bless Me Father for I am About to Sin.”

• A maniacal grin splits across his face, his fingers finding their way into your pants. “A-fucking-Men.”

I’m thinking about actually writing this out into at least a One Shot fic (full smut; not ending where the Imagine ended); let me know if you(or anyone) are interested in a full fic!

[frogger-irl]

random stardew valley headcanon bc why not? pt.1: the bar piano

- there’s definitely a piano in the saloon somewhere. Emily found it at a flea market in Grampleton, and asked Marnie to borrow her truck to bring it back. Marnie basically forced Shane to go help her, smiling mischievously about it.

- see, back when Shane was a kid, he visited Marnie during the summers. She mostly taught him about animal care, but she also taught him piano. and he was decent at it back then, so she’s sure he remembers. 

- They get it in there, and Emily wants it right near the fireplace. Great... Shane thinks. He’ll have to sit next to the damn thing and have a front row to the stupidity bound to happen.

- Gus and Emily have a system with the regulars. Gus takes Pam, Emily takes Shane. As a result, Emily’s become one of the only people outside of Marnie and Jas that Shane can actually stand. And the bar is empty besides the two of them.

- Screw it. And so, after he knocks back a beer, he sits down to play, and he’s still good at it. Emily smiles but doesn’t say anything to him about it. That’s exactly why he almost considers her a friend. Almost.

- The next time Elliot and Leah come in Gus brings out some pomegranate wine that the brand new farmer left for Elliot. “How did they know?” he asks the room. “And how, pray tell, did they get their hands on a pomegranate in the springtime?”

- Elliot is a lightweight. He and Leah split the bottle, and after his two glasses he is noticeable tipsy. He goes to the piano and starts playing.  He... isn’t good, but most of the bar patrons are having fun watching him play and sing, badly.

- Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian were playing pool that night, like also every Friday, and spent the whole night making fun of Elliot.

- Leah escorted him back to the beach around 11pm

- Shane would have been annoyed normally, but Emily kept glancing at him, amused. I guess it was funny... he thinks. And it was kind of nice to have an inside joke with someone besides Jas saying “Look at all those chickens.” regarding every bird except chickens.

- Shane tells Marnie, who tells Penny. Penny convinces Gus to let her come in with the kids before noon to teach them piano. He’s more than happy to let her. So now Penny is going to teach Vincent and Jas Piano.

- Only problem is, Penny doesn’t know piano. She asks around town. Elliot is the first to offer. Penny politely refuses the offer, after what Marnie said.

- Penny asks Seb, who she knows can play, but isn’t surprised when he turns her down. “Sorry, Penny, too busy. I swear to Yoba nobody takes me or my job seriously.”  Maru warned her he was having a bad day.

- After apologizing for her brother, Maru suggests she ask Gus, because he knows everyone, he’s bound to know who can teach her.

- She drops the kids off and goes into the Saloon. She avoids this place, especially when her mom is here. But Pam’s in Zuzu City this week, catching up with a few friends from her old bowling league.

- Emily tells her that Gus is in the back, doing inventory. Penny asks her if she can think of anyone. “Yeah, I can think of someone” and looks over at Shane. But Penny thinks she’s looking at the piano, and that’s all she’s going to say “May I ask who?”

- But Shane catches her drift. “Fine! I’ll do it. For Jas.” he says. Penny and Shane have a strange dynamic. They both love Jas, but Shane and Jas remind her of Pam and her, which worries Penny. And the similarities aren’t lost on him, but he hasn’t been able to change.

- Because of this, neither of them want Shane to give Penny lessons directly, they simply don’t know how to interact without Jas as a buffer.

- And that’s how grumpy Shane ended up giving kids piano lessons on his one day off. At least he gets a free drink out of it.

[lebenspurpur]

jealous slashers

|Michael|

Michael didn't even know what jealousy was before he experienced it for the first time. Before he got to know you he didn't care if anyone took what was his. In the asylum he wasn't even allowed to have personal stuff so why get jealous over having things taken away?

So what is this feeling he gets when you talk to someone else?

You have to understand that Michael's jealousy isn't based on certain actions like someone flirting with you. Michael gets jealous over everyone who even looks at you.

You're his obsession, not anyone else's. The person breathing the same air as you might as well die. He finally has something that he "owns". He is not going to let it get taken away from him.

I don't even think Michael cares much about what you do. Right now he is too fascinated by you to really hurt you anyway. But don't push your luck or his hand might just find your throat.

|Vincent Sinclair|

Vincent has two kinds of jealousy.

The first one involves "tourists" who come to Ambrose. If any of the victims flirts with you they might end up dead sooner than planned. That proves to be quite the problem since you sometimes lure people into the town and for that you need to be quite flirty.

While Vincent understands that, he will still make sure to show the person that you're his and not anyone else's.

If Vincent is that kind of jealous he's more angry than anything else and will be rather clingy the following days.

The second jealousy exists because of his twin. Vincent has been jealous of Bo his whole life and when he sees you two laughing he can't help the bitter feelings inside of him. In that state of mind he often locks himself in the basement and wallows in self-pity. It will need quite a bit of coaxing to get him out of there.

He knows that this isn't your fault, don't worry. He just needs to get over his insecurities before he can talk to you again.

|Bo Sinclair| (tad of NSFW)

You will immediately know if Bo's jealous. He gets very aggressive and if looks could kill whoever is talking to you would drop dead.

Bo might be one of the only slashers who actually blame you in case of him becoming jealous. He won't physically hurt you but his words do more than enough damage.

Bo is a big fan of kidnapping the person that made him jealous and then making out with you in front of him. If he's in a very jealous mood sex in front of the victim is not something he says no to.

Afterwards he might even apologize for being so pissed. He was just scared to lose you.

|Lester Sinclair|

Same as Vincent, Lester has been jealous of Bo his whole life.

If you spend more time talking to him he will not get angry though. Lester is not a very aggressive person. He'll think about it for a while and grow more distant during that.

As soon as he has come to a decision Lester will simply ask you, with a lot of fear in his eyes if I may say so, if you're going to leave him for Bo.

Please give him a lot of affection afterwards. Lester just wants to be sure that you won't leave him.

|Baby Firefly|

Baby rarely gets jealous. She gladly shares her love for you. The more people, the more love am I right?

If she ever got jealous she'll ask you about it. Baby is not someone who broods about things like that. It involves both of you so why shouldn't she just talk about it to you?

If you reassure your feelings towards her, she'll be happy again. Baby is just glad to know that your strongest feelings still only belong to her.

|Otis Driftwood| (NSFW)

You'll know when Otis is jealous. He is even grumpier than usual. But also horny.

Otis loves showing you off. However, he doesn't like sharing. So if he praises your curves to one of his friends and that person's eyes linger on you for one or two seconds too long, Otis will get angry.

The chances of him fucking you in front of the corpse of whoever made him jealous are very high so be prepared.

He might still be grumpy afterwards but give him some time. He trusts you, he just doesn't trust other men. According to him they're all horny assholes and he just wants you to be safe.

|Billy Loomis|

Imagine every superstition about high school boys getting jealous. That's what happens.

Billy gets angry, then sad. He doesn't know what to do instead of confronting you but as usual his emotions get in the way.

So yes, his confrontation might get more emotional than he planned but like every other argument it'll help with your relationship. If a person gets angry about something, they care about it. Now you know that you smiling at other guys makes him insecure and maybe know how to deal with other guys and him.

Explain that you won't leave him and Billy will be fine again.

|Stu Macher|

Stu gets silent and serious, something that doesn't happen all too often.

You'll notice it pretty quickly but you might have to pressure him a little before he tells you what's wrong.

Maybe you can guess it as well. There aren't a lot of things that make Stu grow silent so figuring out why he's feeling the way he is, isn't difficult.

Just drown him in attention and affection the next days. It will make him feel so loved. In that case you both can get over his jealousy without talking about it.

However you should discuss it at last once. Make it clear that you're not going to leave him and that it's your right to talk to other people besides him. He might be the only slasher that understands that certain argument.

|Brahms Heelshire|

Ah yes. The most jealous of them all.

Brahms has abandonment anxiety. If he's jealous of someone he'll get rid of them. Nothing you say will change that.

While he trusts your words, his jealousy is a compulsion and one he can't get rid of. He feels bad for feeling that way but he can't change it.

It will need years of convincing to change his way of thinking and acting. Brahms needs a lot of "education" when it comes to his emotions, but that might be the biggest problem yet.

|Josef|

Josef is a functioning adult yet he doesn't know how to deal with jealousy.

He will just do what feels right and that is confessing to you, which is the right decision.

Josef trusts you when you tell him that you would never leave him and most of the times that is already enough to calm him.

If he really wants to make sure, he'll and i'm not kidding propose. If anyone sees the ring, they'll quickly stop approaching you and that's all he wants.

Obviously marrying you is quite the price as well so really, he has everything he needs.

|Thomas Hewitt|

Dear Tommy here feels a mix of insecure and angry. How is he supposed to act now?

His first instinct is to hold you closer, maybe sit very close to you and place a threatening hand on you thigh to let the person across of you know who you belong to.

Obviously you'll quickly understand why he's acting that way.

Please explain to him that he's your partner, no one else. Thomas might get emotional over the whole thing. He gets it if you don't want to be in a relationship with someone scarred like him. He might even tell you to leave him for someone better.

You have to work a bit to lift his spirits again. A few hugs and cuddles might already do, Thomas just wants to feel loved right now. After all the trusts and loves you.

[pies-writes-and-more]

I hate that I love you p. 11

11. Stupid Tsukishima

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter 

Warnings: mentions of an annoyingly persistent dude (he’s not in it too much tbh lol), probably some swearing too, and a first time writer’s SMAU so might be awful lol

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

A/N: I love a chaotic wingman Bokuto xD so just a warning: I wrote out a lot of this chapter just cause it didn’t really make sense to have the plot of this part over text haha. I hope you guys like it (i’m sorry if it’s sad!! I promise there’s a happy ending!!!!) but also the team loves y/n so much lol i love these characters ugh. let me know what you guys think :) 

You watched as people slowly left the gym, Yamaguchi waving a quick goodbye before you or Tsukishima could beg him to join your awkward ice cream “date”. You hated how awkward it felt, how tense everything was between you two. Normally you would feel at home with him, not putting on a face or some kind of front, just being you. And now it felt like everything you had known was crumbling.

“Here,” you held out the jacket that had been on your shoulders for the past few minutes, standing in front of Tsukishima as he knelt on the ground, packing his things.

He raised an eyebrow, shifting his bag on his shoulders as he stood up, “It’s cold out and you didn’t bring another sweater,” he pointed out flatly. “What, don’t want to wear something Bokuto didn’t give you?”

You felt yourself roll your eyes, huffing a little, “I just figured you gave it to me to be a little shit towards him. He’s gone now so you can take it back.”

“I gave it to you to wear. So wear it, dumbass,” he shrugged, starting to walk out the door. “Let’s go then.”

You stood there for a second, still holding his jacket in your hands.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tsukishima so eager to go somewhere with anyone,” Daichi spoke up, standing behind you. You glanced behind your shoulder, smiling shyly as you looked at his jacket in your hands.

“Is that supposed to be eager?” you laughed, smiling up at him. “Honestly? I think he’s just softer inside than everyone expects. But one day, when he finds that special someone, I’m sure you’ll see it more in him.”

Daichi looks at you, kinda confused. As if there was something he thought both of you knew. “Well.. have fun!” He told you, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward sort of smile.

You nodded and pulled the jacket on slowly before heading out the doors.

If you had lingered a little longer, maybe you would’ve heard Daichi asking the third years about you.

“Isn’t... isn’t she the one that Tsukishima keeps talking about?” Daichi asked, still a bit confused.

“Ya, the one that he spiked a ball at Tanaka ‘by accident’ for talking about?” Asahi asked, chuckling a little at how angry Tanaka got. Coach Ukai had to practically hold him back himself while Tsukishima just smirked like an ass.

“Hmm. Come to think of it, I think she was his phone’s wallpaper for a day too. But that was before Noya pointed it out and then he changed it then and there. Seemed a bit embarrassed about it,” Suga laughed.

But even though the third years were talking about it, they wondered how long it would take for you to notice too.

“Took your time, I’m starting to think you don’t care about ice cream,” Tsukishima muttered as you made your way over to his side, scrolling through his phone absent-mindedly.

“Sorry, I was talking to your captain,” you shrugged, starting to walk ahead. “But I’m ready now! Come on, it’s time for you to buy me ice cream!”

Tsukishima scoffed, catching up to you in a few moments, “As if I’d buy you ice cream.”

“And why wouldn’t you? The best way to apology is through ice cream. Or words, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say the words ‘I’m sorry’,” you smirked, smiling up at him. Even though you knew you weren’t fully ready to forgive him yet, and even though his past words still hurt… you really hated this battle between you two.

Tsukishima just clicked his tongue in annoyance, shoving his hands in his pockets. The two of you walked into town in silence, the sounds of cars passing and nearby conversations soon filling the awkward air between you two. You expected him to pull on his headphones and just ignore your existence the whole way but instead he kept them off, looking like he had something to say the whole time. After a while, Tsukishima stopped.

“Hm?” You turned back to face him, stopping in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to know,” was all he stated with the same grumpy tone he had on earlier. “What’s going on with you and Bokuto?”

You wanted to roll your eyes, of course there was nothing going on between you and Bokuto. Your lips parted to tell him he was being stupid for thinking you two were anything more than friends, but instead, you heard yourself say, “What does it matter to you?”

Tsukishima scowled some more, standing up straighter and glaring down at you, “It doesn’t.”

“So why are you asking?”

“Curiosity. That’s all.” Tsukishima started to walk again, passing by you with a cold air. You stayed there for a moment, waiting for him to turn back and say something but he didn’t.

“Tsukishima Kei, why do you have to be so obnoxious?” You yelled after him before you could stop yourself. People passing by glanced in your direction but you were too annoyed to care.

Tsukshima paused, turning slowly to face you. Even from the distance you two were apart from each other, you could still feel his glare on you, “I’m the obnoxious one? Says the one who constantly needs my help. In school, in life, with your dumbass admirer.”

“Your help?” You laugh bitterly, glaring right back at him, “You were the one who volunteered for the fake boyfriend position, I never asked you to do any of it. In fact, I told you you didn’t have to but you just love torturing people don’t you?”

Suddenly he was looming over you, moving faster than you’ve seen him do up close before, “Torturing? Says you. You’re the one bringing some other guy to my volleyball game and wearing his stupid jacket, making me look like an idiot to the team.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to have ruined your reputation,” you mock him with your insincere apology, though you can feel yourself stepping back from his looming figure. “And maybe I wouldn’t have needed his stupid jacket if my stupid fake boyfriend had given me his instead! That gym was freezing!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t have brought some no-brain idiot to the match, I would have!”

You scoff and roll your eyes again, “As if. You’d gain nothing from giving me your jacket then anyways. You’d actually have to be nice to do that.”

“Oh I’m sorry was I not nice enough bringing you to school these past few days? Was I not a good enough friend to you?” Tsukishima felt the words leave his lips harsher than he wanted them too. He watched as your eyes displayed just how hurt you were and he wanted to apologize right away but... would it mean anything? Would you even care? An apology felt so foreign in his mouth, what would he even say?

"Don’t you remember? You told me I could ‘believe whatever I wanted to’ when I asked if we were friends... And our friendship, or whatever the hell you want to call this arrangement between us, has always felt one-sided. Honestly? Most of the time it just feels like you hate me.” 

Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly, watching as you lay all of your emotions right there in front of him. Somewhere inside of him wanted to brush your tears away - he always hated seeing you cry. Why did it always feel like it physically hurt him? 

But he did remember. He remembered angrily typing out that message when you had asked if you two were friends. He remembered throwing his phone across the room because he didn’t want to see if you would reply. He remembered Yamaguchi calling him that night saying that you were really upset and that maybe he should call you. He remembered wishing he could call you and tell you just how he was feeling. He remembered wishing Bokuto never came to see you and that he didn’t make you laugh so much. He remembered it all.

Did you really think he hated you? Had it really always come across that way? He frowned as he thought about all the times he tried to be nice and it just came out as witty comments, all the times he had offered to do something nice for you but there was always a teasing point to it. You had always laughed at it… hadn’t you?

“Am I wrong?” You squeaked softly, and Tsukishima realized he hadn’t said anything yet. You had been waiting for him to say something while he was searching his brain for all the answers.

“I-” he started but found himself at a lost for words. It was like the entire dictionary of words he knew had been thrown out the window and he couldn’t figure out how to string a sentence together. How was he supposed to tell you that he didn’t hate you, he lov-

“You know what, just forget it,” you cut his thoughts off, in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. “I won’t bug you anymore.” You tear off his jacket and throw it at him and before he can realize what’s happening, your feet pick up speed and head towards your home.

You could’ve sworn you had heard him call after you… or was it just your imagination? He won’t chase after you anyways and you knew that as you ran your way home. That’s just not how Tsukishima is.

You finally let your tears flow freely when you get home, closing the door of your room behind you and throwing your phone aside to avoid any text messages anyone might be sending you. You knew that just in a few minutes, Yamaguchi would be calling you because there was no way that Tsukishima would keep this from him. What were you supposed to say? Tsukishima couldn’t deny that he hated having you around but there were so many conflicting arguments rolling around in your head.

Why would he spend hours with you studying if he hated having you around? Why would he offer to be your fake boyfriend? What about the jersey? Why did he care so much about Bokuto if he hated you?

You whine a little, your head hurting from both dehydration and confusion. Did he hate you? Potentially. But it’s not like there weren’t signs that he liked you back so... maybe he liked you?

“Stupid Tsukishima,” you mumble softly, curling up on your bed and hugging the nearest plushie you could find. Almost immediately upon realizing what you grabbed, you threw it on the floor, glaring at it like it was Tsukishima himself.

That plushie had been the cutest thing ever to you, just this morning. Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and you had all gone to the arcade a few years back and Tsukishima had won it at some stupidly impossible claw machine game. He scoffed saying he was really aiming for the dinosaur plushie but Yamaguchi insisted that once he saw your eyes lay on the sweet bear, he just had to get it for you. And after numerous failed attempts, he did.

What kind of guy does that for someone he hates?

After a few hours of crying and eventually trying to find some sort of distraction, you picked up your phone off the ground. Unsurprised, there were a few missed calls and messages from Yamaguchi... but he wasn’t the only one.

You put on a fake voice for your messages, privately telling Yamaguchi and Bokuto that tonight had really solidified your fears. Tsukishima really didn’t care about you at all, or at least never in the way you would want him to. Any hope of him confessing to you was gone.

“Don’t give up hope yet, little sis,” Bokuto told you over the phone after insisting he wouldn’t go to bed until he heard your voice. “I know Four Eyes is awful with words and with people but you should see the way he looks at you.”

“With distain?” You half-joked, curled up in your bed and sniffling softly.

“I mean sometimes but that’s just his face I think,” Bokuto admitted and that made you laugh just a little. “It’ll be okay, Y/N, I promise. Even if that means I gotta come down there and beat him up.”

Or maybe I’ll just forget about him, you wished silently before saying goodnight to your new friend. Maybe I’ll forget these feelings. But part of you knew you never would. You could hate Tsukishima Kei all you wanted, but you would always love him so much more.

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[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Always a Place For You

also on ao3 

fair warning, this one is long

Initially, when they run into another Witcher on the road, Jaskier is thrilled. He’s been dying to hear more about Geralt’s adventures and hopes that having a familiar companion will make him more amenable to it. And maybe cheer him up a little. It's been a slow couple of weeks and while they've adjusted to it - and have certainly had worse periods - Geralt has been a little low lately. So when the other man walks toward them, arms stretched and a goat at his side, Jaskier is delighted.

His name is Eskel and he seems equally as enthusiastic to meet Jaskier as Jaskier is to meet him. Geralt makes a muttered comment about how it’s only because of the song and Eskel elbows him. Jaskier loves him immediately.

"Maybe I could write you your own song," he suggests and behind him, he can hear Geralt's snort of derision.

But it's fine. Geralt's never really grumpy with him about flirting - even, he suspects, with other Witchers - and how else is Jaskier supposed to learn about them? Every piece of Witcher knowledge he has, unless gleaned from his years with Geralt, is tainted with bias and fear, and he would very much like to know the truth.

Eskel is, in fact, far more forthcoming than Geralt ever has been, though this is likely a side-effect of Jaskier being Geralt's companion. He can't imagine Eskel would be so willing otherwise. And he can understand that, having overstepped with the wrong person and wound up in trouble more than his share of times.

The pair of them chat as they make their way along the road, heading toward Eskel’s camp. It’s not until they arrive that Jaskier realizes how quiet Geralt has been the whole time. It’s not as though he’s the chattiest person he's ever known, but Geralt has been talking very little today - even for him - and when Jaskier starts asking questions about their childhood, he shuts up entirely.

At the edge of Eskel’s camp, Geralt tethers Roach next to a black stallion who seems none too impressed with the company, then quietly comes to sit with them. He sits on Eskel's other side, staring intently into the fire and continuing to add nothing to the conversation. A couple of times, Eskel starts to say something, but a single look from Geralt is all it takes for him to switch tracks.

Eskel stays with them and Jaskier does his best to take a step back and not focus too hard on every interaction between the two Witchers. They spend a couple of days camping out before the weather turns wet and miserable and Geralt directs them toward town. Jaskier knows it's for his benefit mostly and he feels guilty for them having to change course, but Geralt won't take no for an answer. It's out of the way - they'd been heading toward Rinde and a sizable reward for killing a pack of ghouls - but it's the closest town to them, even if it's barely large enough to have an inn. But it does and once the horses and goat are housed for the night, that's where they head.

"We need a room for the night," Geralt says and Jaskier interjects with a hurried, "two rooms." Geralt turns to him with a confused frown, but Eskel lays a hand on Geralt's shoulder and he relents.

Jaskier tries not to think too much about what that means or why Geralt relents so quickly, but he fails. As he makes his way up to his own room, all he can think of is the way Eskel's fingers pressed into Geralt's shoulder, squeezing gently in a way that, apparently, was enough to reassure Geralt. He wants to be able to offer that kind of reassurance, for Geralt to feel that calm in his presence.

He's unpacking his things, hanging those that got wet to dry, when there's a knock on the door. Jaskier doesn't even have a chance to cross the room before the door opens and Geralt strolls into the room like it's his own.

"What's wrong?" he asks, which Jaskier supposes is polite, but he's so blunt about it that he almost sounds angry.

"Nothing," Jaskier offers, turning away to finish emptying the contents of his pack.

"Jaskier, you've barely said a word all day.”

“I composed an entire song before we reached the city walls."

"But you haven't spoken to anyone but yourself."

Jaskier opens his mouth to mention talking to the stable hand, but the look on Geralt's face tells him that won't go over well. Not that he understands why Geralt is so concerned about his silence, all of a sudden. There have been days when he's all but prayed for Jaskier to shut up. He should be happy about it.

"I'm just... not feeling well," he says, realizing the fault in his lie before he even finishes speaking it. Geralt's eyebrows knit together and he gives Jaskier a quick once-over before evidently deciding he's fine.

"You're lying to me. Jaskier you never lie to me. Why?"

"You can tell when I'm lying?"

"You smell like deceit, don't change the subject."

Jaskier doesn't know what to say because he certainly can't tell the truth. He goes with the one thing he knows Geralt won't want to talk about any further.

"I had a lover here once," he says quickly, "she dropped me quite quickly when she found out about my other lovers. I was quite hoping not to have to come back, but here we are."

It's close enough to the truth, and something realistic enough that Geralt should believe it. And he does, though he doesn't seem happy about it. He stiffens and Jaskier just sighs softly as Geralt turns back toward the door and leaves him alone again.

For four more days, Eskel travels with them. He leaves on the fifth morning, and watching him go is bittersweet, the weight of some unnamed pain sitting heavily on Jaskier's heart. Geralt shows no sign of sadness or regret, but Jaskier can feel something different about him as they turn and head in the opposite direction.

If Jaskier thought things would go back to the way before, he's sadly mistaken. And it's his own fault, really. Geralt, shockingly, returns to normal fairly quickly, falling back into their old routines, but Jaskier can't stop thinking about him and Eskel. When they're alone at night, he pretends not to be cold because he can't bear the thought of Geralt's arms around him if he's thinking of someone else.

But things do eventually get back to something like normal, aided by Geralt's silent persistence. For the first time in their relationship, Geralt is the one pushing boundaries, encouraging Jaskier to do things he doesn't necessarily want to do. But even when Geralt has wormed his way back to his proper place in Jaskier's life, Jaskier can't stop thinking about him with Eskel. So he flirts less - at least with Geralt - and he distances himself a little bit at a time because he wants Geralt to be happy.

They're up north when the weather starts to cool and out of the blue, Geralt broaches the subject of Kaer Morhen. Jaskier's sitting next to the fire, his lute case open next to him but untouched and he's prodding at the coals with a stick. Geralt comes and plops down next to him, staring directly ahead and not meeting Jaskier's eyes.

"I wonder if you would come to Kaer Morhen with me this winter." It's not a question, not really, and from Geralt's perspective, things have been good - exceptionally good - so he probably isn't expecting Jaskier to turn him down flat.

"No," Jaskier says and the look on Geralt's face tells him he's surprised about it. "I'm going to Oxenfurt."

"You'll freeze before you get there." Geralt says and he sounds a little irritated about it, so Jaskier smiles to ease the awkwardness.

"Well then," he says, "you had better come along and keep me warm."

It's supposed to be a joke, but Geralt agrees easily and Jaskier’s chest tightens. The night that follows is cold and Geralt is more distant than he has been, but he curls up around Jaskier next to the fire and pulls the extra blanket over them both.

For a little while, Jaskier almost thinks things could be okay again, but he's never felt so unsure of himself in his life. He wants Geralt, but he also wants him to be happy and there doesn't seem to be a way to have both - not if Geralt loves Eskel.

A couple of nights out, they're camped on the edge of a lake and Jaskier is struggling to get the fire lit. His fingers are so cold he fumbles with the flint and drops it into the placed sticks carefully. Geralt isn't around to help, having gone off to find something for them to eat, but Jaskier does eventually get the fire lit, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders as he sits next to it, waiting for Geralt to return.

When he doesn't, Jaskier gets worried and hauls himself to his feet. He can't see much in the dark, his eyes having adjusted to the light of the fire, so he heads off in the direction Geralt left. It doesn't take long to figure out where he went; barely two minutes from camp, Jaskier hears the sounds of a fight and hurries toward it.

Geralt has his sword drawn, surrounded on all sides by a pack of drowners. Without thinking, Jaskier rushes into the fold, tugging the dagger from his boot, and launches himself at the closest creature. He gets his blade lodged in its neck, but it stumbles as it collapses, dislodging Jaskier from its back and as he bumps into another and finds himself thrown sideways into the lake.

He's underwater before he realizes what's happening and the icy water bites into his skin. He struggles against the weight of his own body, kicking his legs and searching for anything to push off of. He's not even sure which way is up, at this point and he knows Geralt is too busy to come after him; this time, he's going to have to save himself.

But he can't. He's already losing feeling in his limbs and even with his eyes open and stinging, he can't see anything in the dark, so all he can do is kick his legs and hope for the best. And then, as if like a beacon, an arm thrusts down toward him, scrabbling around until a hand curls around his collar and hauls him upward. Jaskier is helpless as he's hauled up onto the bank and he gasps to catch his breath as warm hands, slowly cooling against his skin, grab at him.

He's tugged up into strong arms and his mind is still struggling to catch up as Geralt lifts him into his arms and starts back toward camp. Jaskier wraps his arms around his neck and rests his chin on his shoulder, he looks back behind them. The entire horde of drowners is dead on the ground, the grass dark with their blood. Jaskier shudders at the sight and Geralt holds him closer, mistaking his shock for cold.

As soon as they're back at the fire, Geralt drops to his knees next to it, shifting to cross his legs and pull Jaskier into his lap. He has both their blankets and the one Jaskier was wearing and he pulls them around him now.

"Take off your clothes," he says and Jaskier stops, his head jerking up to meet his eyes.

"I-" he starts and finds he can't form the words.

“Jaskier, your clothes.”

“But I thought- Eskel, he won't mind?"

"Jaskier, you're going to freeze to death if you don't get out of your clothes, no one is going to mind." Jaskier hesitates just for a moment and Geralt sighs in frustration, reaching for his shirt himself. Geralt gets Jaskier out of his doublet before Jaskier's mind catches up and he fumbles with his shirt.

"I've got it," Geralt says softly, and Jaskier ducks his head. He still hasn't quite managed to catch up to the severity of the situation and he shifts awkwardly as Geralt lifts his shirt up.

"Geralt you shouldn't- I can do it. I don't want things to be complicated because of me, I- I know you and Eskel- and I want you to be happy so I can do it myself." He doesn't look up until he's finished speaking and realizes Geralt hasn't moved. He's frozen in place, his hands wrapped around the hem of Jaskier's shirt. As soon as Jaskier lifts his eyes, Geralt's snap up to meet them.

"That's what's been bothering you? Jaskier, that was months ago." He curses softly under his breath and tugs Jaskier's shirt up over his head. He quickly rids him of the rest of his clothes and bundles Jaskier up against his chest.

They sit together in silence and Jaskier leans further into him than he should, soaking up Geralt's body heat. He shuts his eyes, pressing his face into Geralt's neck and a warm hand slides up his chest, wrapping him tight. It's a little weird being fully naked out in the middle of nowhere and pressed up against Geralt, but he likes the warmth of him against his back.

"Eskel and I," Geralt says suddenly, "it's not what you think."

"Dunno what else it could be," Jaskier mumbles, "you with your head between his legs and all. Though that explains why you were so weird about me meeting him." Geralt's hand makes its way up to his head, sliding into his hair.

"I didn't want to tell you," he admits and Jaskier huffs against him. "Jaskier," Geralt says softly, "I didn't want it to change things. Obviously, it did."

"How long?" Jaskier asks, though he's not totally sure he wants to know.

"Always." Geralt leans his head against Jaskier's, looking out into the fire. "We were kids the first time, cold and alone in that huge keep with no one but each other. It started as a distraction and just grew into something... else."

It feels like all the breath has been sucked from his lungs and Jaskier pulls in a shuddering breath. He had hoped that it was just a relationship born out of necessity, but that's not what it sounds like.

"You're upset," Geralt realizes, but Jaskier shakes his head.

"Just cold."

"And lying." Jaskier says nothing and Geralt tips his head forward, pressing against the back of Jaskier's head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to upset you, I want you to be happy."

After a moment of silence, Geralt sighs. "You know I care for you, Jaskier." Jaskier's heart does a weird little flip that he can't quite describe, but it doesn't feel good.

"No, actually. You do quite a good job of pretending you don't." He's feeling raw and he wants to pull away, but his hair is still dripping and there's a real chance that he could actually die if he slept out in the cold tonight.

"Jaskier..." Geralt breathes, dropping his chin so his nose bumps against Jaskier's ear. "There's no need to be jealous of Eskel. No one could ever replace you."

Jaskier hates being placated and he squirms in Geralt's arms, turning to frown at him. But Geralt's expression is soft and he almost looks like he's smiling. Jaskier's frown deepens, but Geralt holds him closer, looking at him silently for a moment before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier's temple.

Jaskier freezes as soon as Geralt moves and Geralt doesn't draw back, not entirely. He presses back in, keeping his eyes on Jaskier's, and when their noses bump against each other, Jaskier inhales slowly. He tips his head, pressing forward again and Geralt meets him halfway.

Geralt's mouth is hot against his own and he turns Jaskier in his lap, pulling him as close as he can without letting the blankets slip away. And it takes him a minute to realize Geralt isn't going to pull away, but when he's sure, Jaskier slips his arms around his neck, risking the frigid night air to wrap himself around Geralt.

He's not sure how long they stay wrapped around each other by the fire, but at some point Jaskier drifts off, his face pressed into Geralt's neck.

They change course in the morning, turning back toward the mountains.

The following morning is frosty and Jaskier dresses as quickly as he can to avoid any more loss of heat. When he's fully clothed, he works on getting his own things together, but Geralt comes over with a large swatch of fabric draped over his arm. As he gets closer, Jaskier realizes it's his cloak but he doesn't have a chance to ask what he's doing before Geralt is wrapping it around him, fastening it around his neck.

"It'll keep you warm," he says, fastening the clasp and Jaskier's heart is beating so loudly he can barely think over it. He suspects Geralt can hear it as well and that's what the little lopsided smile is for. He presses a hand to Jaskier's shoulder and pauses for a moment before sliding the same hand up to the side of his neck and drawing him closer.

"I'm sorry you were miserable for so long, I should have realized."

"No," Jaskier insists, but Geralt is already leaning in for a kiss and Jaskier shuts his eyes. For once, he's happy to leave something in the past.

"Will it be okay?" he asks as Geralt breaks away. He's still only a breath away and Jaskier flicks his eyes up to him. "Me coming to Kaer Morhen with you, I mean."

"If you're worried about Eskel, don't be. He knows."

"What?"

"He knew before I did," Geralt grins, stroking his thumb across Jaskier's cheek before turning and returning to his task. Jaskier is left speechless again and desperately wanting to know how he came up when talking to Eskel. Maybe if things go as well as Geralt says, he can ask Eskel himself.

They're a week out from the mountain pass that Geralt keeps talking about and Jaskier can't help but wonder if he was always expecting to take him to Kaer Morhen. He certainly wasn't expecting to be told no. But none of that matters now, especially not with Jaskier in the saddle and Geralt pressed as close behind him as he can be, one arm wrapped protectively around his middle.

The cloak is sufficiently warm, but he likes when Geralt touches him and his hood keeps blowing off anyway. Despite the cold wind, Jaskier likes it because Geralt will lean in and kiss his head and press his nose into his hair. Out in the wild, Geralt is careless with his affection, has been even before Jaskier realized what it was, and he can't blame him. If Geralt has been holding everything in for even half the time he has, it can't have been easy, even for a Witcher.

But Geralt likes to touch, likes to get his hands on whatever part of Jaskier he can reach and at times it proves to be frustrating. During the day, Jaskier lets him keep an arm around him and nothing more. He'd already learned the hard way that anything more than that affects him more than it should. Too many nights alone and too long on the road doesn't lead to anything good. And he's wanted for so long that his body overreacts to even the slightest touch. And the worst part is that Geralt seems amused by it, the bastard.

It's not until evening on the fifth night that Jaskier says something about it. They're sitting on the ground next to the fire and Jaskier is in Geralt's lap, watching the flames die down. Geralt has his hands on Jaskier's hips, slowly sliding down his thighs and back up again. His nose is pressed against the back of his ear and Jaskier decides there's nothing wrong with it tonight; it's just the two of them and nothing around for miles, so what does it matter?

Only tonight Geralt doesn't stop with soft, innocent touches. He slips his hands between Jaskier's thighs, fingers sliding easily over the smooth fabric and Jaskier lets out a little gasp when he slips higher than before. His cock twitches in his trousers and he tries to stifle a groan, but it doesn't work. Geralt presses forward, letting his lips brush the curve of Jaskier's ear.

"Jask," he breathes, "we can't do this here." Jaskier groans and arches his back against him.

"Why not? You’re the one who started it."

"You'll freeze."

"You can keep me warm," Jaskier hums, already pressing up into the touch.

He turns his head to kiss Geralt's mouth and Geralt hums against him, still doubtful even as his fingers slide over his crotch. Strong fingers curve around him, stroking him quickly to full hardness and Jaskier whimpers as he bucks up into Geralt's palm. It's a tease and nothing more, but when he pushes back between Geralt's legs, it doesn't feel like he needs any encouragement.

In fact, he doesn't even have to say anything more before Geralt's fingers are tugging his trousers open. Jaskier gasps as the cold air hits his skin, but Geralt's hand is hot and quick to wrap around him, stroking slowly down to the base and squeezing his way back up. He's smooth and precise, his motions speaking to years of practice - a thought which makes Jaskier's skin prickle and his heart beat faster.

"Touch me how you like it," he whispers and he can feel Geralt's breath stutter against his skin.

"Okay," he breathes and his fingers spread along the underside of Jaskier's cock, his thumb and forefinger circling the head.

Geralt continues, his speed increasing just slightly as he works over Jaskier's cock. Jaskier whines, panting against Geralt's neck. The thought that this is how Geralt touches himself is overwhelming and he kisses his neck, running his tongue along the underside of his jaw.

Already, Jaskier's getting close. He's denied himself too long and he's wanted this for so much longer than that. Geralt's hand is hot and quick and Jaskier breathes in his scent, shutting his eyes against the pulsing need of his cock. His hips jerk forward unbidden and he mumbles into Geralt's skin.

Geralt's palm slips up his chest and neck, turning Jaskier's head so he can kiss him properly and then he's pulling off of Jaskier's cock and lifting him in his lap. He turns him around so Jaskier's straddling his thighs and before Jaskier can even adjust to the new position, Geralt is fumbling with his own trousers.

He strokes himself quickly, tugging Jaskier against him and his hand closes around both of them, holding as tight as he can as he thrusts up against Jaskier's cock.

"Oh. Gods, Geralt, yes." Jaskier snaps his hips in quick sharp bursts, pressing himself as close against Geralt's cock as he can. Geralt's hand slips from their cocks, both arms curling around his waist and he ruts against Jaskier rolling his hips in short, sharp thrusts.

"Fuck, Jask," he huffs. His hands slip down, fingers pressing into Jaskier's ass and forcing the roll of his hips. Geralt's strong and enthusiastic and Jaskier shudders and groans as his own arousal burns through him.

He pushes up against him, so hard it's almost uncomfortable, but this position and their location aren't exactly conducive to comfort, not that Jaskier cares. Or Geralt, by the way his hand slips up, tangling itself in Jaskier's hair and tugging gently. Jaskier lifts his head obediently and as Geralt's eyes meet his, he feels his body release and before he can even warn Geralt, he's coming hard, spilling between them.

His hips stutter and his thighs shake and Geralt holds him, grunting softly in his ear as he continues the increasingly uneven roll of his hips. Jaskier's body feels heavy where it's sprawled over Geralt's chest, but his head is floating, empty and airy, the only thing still tying him to reality is Geralt's body wrapped around him. Geralt's cock digs into his hip and Jaskier's body shudders above him.

It's too much, but it's so good and Jaskier just goes limp, pressing his mouth against Geralt's neck and kissing him lazily. Geralt mumbles against him, breathing his praise into Jaskier's shoulder and he's never been so talkative. Jaskier can only hope he's always like this when he gets off.

When Geralt comes, it's with a low, rumbling growl that could almost get Jaskier hard again. His arms slip a little but stay firmly wrapped around him, and when he nudges Jaskier's cheek with his nose, Jaskier tips his head, meeting his mouth in a soft kiss.

"You're incredible, darling."

Geralt huffs his amusement and tips his head back to kiss Jaskier's forehead. He doesn't speak, and Jaskier shuts his eyes, listening to Geralt's heartbeat as it gradually slows to normal. He's not sure what the rest of the winter has in store for them, but he's thankful for this one moment alone, even rushed and cold in the forest.

After a little while, he peels himself from Geralt with a significant amount of effort and flops onto his back, staring up into the dark sky. Next to him, Geralt sits up, smiles down at him softly.

"We have to get cleaned up," he says lightly, "get changed before we sleep. We'll have washing to do when we get to the keep."

Jaskier groans dramatically, but he pushes himself up and leans in to kiss Geralt. He strips and changes his clothes as quickly as he can, careful not to take too much off at once because now that his mind is clear again, the air is bitterly cold.

When he's dressed again and wrapped in a blanket, he lays down on his bedroll, watching as Geralt goes through the same motions, changing out of his soiled clothing. It was rough and it was messy and Jaskier wouldn't change it for anything. He pulls Geralt close to him, breathing softly against his ear. In the morning, they have to get up and go, but for now, Jaskier is content to let Geralt wrap around him and kiss his neck as he drifts off into a pleasant slumber.

The rest of his night doesn't go nearly so well. After waking up three times and still shivering despite having the extra blanket wrapped around him and pressing in as close to Geralt as he can, he gives up trying to sleep at all. So, hours before dawn, Geralt packs their entire camp up and hoists Jaskier up onto Roach's back, setting back out along the road.

Jaskier has no notion of time as they travel, drifting in and out of consciousness up until the moment they arrive at the gates. Geralt helps him down as they approach the stables and Jaskier resists the urge to lean into him and fall asleep. He helps remove Roach's tack, though Geralt takes it from him so he can guide Roach into the empty stall next to Eskel's horse. Geralt leads the way up through the courtyard and into the mess hall and Jaskier follows quietly, taking in very little of it.

Kaer Morhen isn't what he expected it to be. Not that he's had much of a chance to see it; as soon as Geralt got him inside, he ran through introductions and got him upstairs into a hot bath. In which, Jaskier promptly fell asleep against Geralt's chest. Since he's woken up, he's found the keep to be surprisingly warm and comfortable and nothing like the cold, dark dungeon Geralt has described to him time and time again. Then again, he thinks, living here as a young boy in training to be a Witcher must have been a very different environment. But he seems happy enough now.

That night, the pair of them head down for supper and Jaskier finds himself sitting across from Eskel. He feels bad about all the things he thought about him before, but now isn't the time to bring all of that up so he just smiles cheerfully at him. There will be time to talk later.

Later, they make their way up to bed together and there's a moment of quiet hesitation once they're alone before Jaskier takes Geralt's hands and leads him toward the bed.

Waking up next to Geralt, warm and safe in bed, is the greatest thing Jaskier has experienced thus far in his life. By the end of the evening, all hesitancy is gone and after a meal and drinks with the rest of their companions, Jaskier finds himself hauled upstairs and pressed into cold sheets. He's fairly certain the entire keep hears how easily Geralt pulls pleasure from his body, but it doesn't matter. The only person who matters is Eskel, and apparently, he already knows.

For the next couple of days Geralt shares his bed and then, on their fifth night in the keep, he pauses when Jasikier suggests heading to bed.

"Go to bed," he says gently, "but don't wait for me."

Jaskier smiles relieved that Geralt is comfortable enough not to lie about where he's going or what he's doing. "You don't have to come to bed tonight if you'd rather stay with Eskel."

Geralt's lips twitch up in a soft grin and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier's mouth. Jaskier sighs and as he opens to him, Geralt presses closer, slipping his hand into Jaskier's hair. He hums softly and Jaskier can feel the restless energy in him and for the first time since the first time tonight, he's a little bit jealous that he's not the one accompanying him. He breaks away first, leaning back in for just a second to press a final kiss to Geralt's lips.

"Have a good night," he whispers.

"Goodnight, Jaskier."

Sleeping alone in a big, unfamiliar room is odd, but Jaskier wraps himself up in the blankets and burrows in. He tries not to think too much about what's happening just down the hall, but it's not jealousy that has him trying to divert his thoughts.

Jaskier adjusts to sleeping alone and he adjusts to Eskel's soft closeness with Geralt during the days, appreciates it even. Geralt doesn't get enough affection in his life, as hard as Jaskier tries, so it's good to know someone else is there when he isn't. And he likes Eskel. More than he ever expected to, especially considering the circumstances. But Jaskier isn't a greedy person and if Geralt's happy, so is he. And considering what Geralt has told him of Eskel, maybe he should have expected him to be as welcoming as he is.

He never makes any attempt to draw Geralt away and any time Jaskier comes across the two of them alone, he's easily integrated into the conversation. They get along well and Geralt seems happiest when he's between them or when everyone's together in the mess hall, so even if Jaskier didn't like Eskel, he'd be willing to put up with him for Geralt's sake. But he does like him, though it isn't until midnight a week later that he really starts to appreciate him.

It's a warmer night than it has been, so Jaskier isn't missing Geralt's presence so much tonight. He's perfectly comfortable on his own and while he would be happier with someone to keep him company, he's not lonely. And all through the evening, it had been oh so clear how Geralt and Eskel were just waiting to slip away from the group and be alone. As he lies in the dark, he wonders if that's how he comes across when he slips into Geralt's lap and whispers in his ear. Maybe, but he doesn't mind and he's sure at least Eskel understands.

Jaskier shuts his eyes, wiggling deeper into the mattress as he tugs the blanket up to his chin. He could get used to spending the winters here if Geralt is willing to bring him.

When he wakes, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, Jaskier doesn't remember crying out, but the knock on his door makes him think he must have. No one would be checking on him, otherwise.

"I'm fine," he calls, but he finds his voice hoarse and too quiet. It's been a long time since he's had nightmares this frequently and he doesn't know what's brought them on again, but he'd like it to stop.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself up, starting toward the door. Whoever knocked hasn't responded, so he pulls the door open, not expecting to see Eskel standing in the doorway.

"You alright?" he asks and Jaskier nods. "You cried out and I didn't want to wake Geralt, but I know he'd want to make sure you were okay."

"I am. Thank you."

"Geralt used to have terrible nightmares, too. Do you want to talk about it?"

Immediately, he wants to say no because Geralt's lover is the last person he wants to go complaining to. Especially a Witcher who has led a much harder life than he has. But as he's contemplating, he realizes Eskel's hand has found its way to his shoulder, warm and comforting and he doesn't want to be alone right now.

He tells Eskel about his dreams, though he doesn't go into detail. No one who cares about him wants to hear about all the gruesome ways Jaskier watches Geralt die in his dreams. But Eskel seems to get the gist of it. They head out onto the balcony where they're less likely to wake anyone and Eskel doesn't move when Jaskier leans into his body to keep warm.

"We've all been through it," he says, wrapping an arm around Jaskier's shoulders, "even Lambert, though you'd never get him to admit it. What do you dream about?"

"Geralt, mostly," he admits. "Sometimes I dream about dying, but mostly it's him."

"Understandable. Geralt lives a dangerous life, I'm still surprised he lets you follow along."

"I wouldn't say he lets me," Jaskier huffs, quirking his lips just slightly as he looks up at Eskel, "but he's never tried very hard to stop me."

Eskel huffs a soft laugh. "No, I can't imagine he did."

They talk for a while longer, but when Jaskier gets too cold, Eskel ushers him back into the keep and back to his room. When they reach the door, he offers his own bed that it might be more comfortable if he wasn't alone, but as much as Jaskier is happy to let Geralt and Eskel do their thing, he's not sure he wants to be that close to it. He declines the offer politely, ensuring that Eskel knows how much he appreciates it, and retreats into the room alone.

Now, at least, when he settles into bed, he falls asleep without any trouble.

It becomes a ritual, of sorts. Jaskier's dreams don't come every night and some nights Geralt is there to curl around him and ground him in the present, but when he's not, there's Eskel. And after a while, it's not just about the nightmares. If Jaskier is having a down day and Geralt is busy, Eskel is the one he turns to for comfort (gods know Lambert won't give in without a fight). Things are good between them and Jaskier regrets the way he acted the first time they met, but love can make people do stupid things and jealousy is worse.

Geralt spends most of his nights with Jaskier, even if they're just curled up together in the dark. The rest of the time, Geralt is with Eskel and as the weeks pass, Jaskier starts to feel the still-lingering discomfort shift. He's not jealous because admitting he's jealous would mean he has a problem with the way things are between them, or admitting that maybe Geralt isn't the only one he has feelings for. Which is absurd.

But he is closer to Eskel than he is with the others and more and more often he finds himself seeking him out, looking to bask in Eskel's warmth and understanding. But it's just because he's kind and understanding and willing to listen. Because Geralt has so few good things in his life. How could Jaskier even consider taking one of them away?

They're all drinking together one night and Geralt and Lambert are playing Gwent. Geralt gets too far into it every time he plays, so Jaskier keeps his distance, watching from his perch on the table, lute in his lap. When Lambert turns in for the night, Geralt frowns at the empty space across from him before glancing down the table at Jaskier.

"Do you want to play?" he asks and Jaskier scoffs.

"Maybe if you get me another drink?" he asks, smiling brightly down at Geralt. He gets a soft, bemused smile in response, but Geralt pushes himself up from the table and Jaskier watches as he leaves the room.

Jaskier is just drunk enough to feel pleasantly warm all over, the very few inhibitions he possesses lowered. Which is probably why, when Eskel slides down the bench to sit between his knees, he doesn't move. His heart beats a little quicker, but it's probably just the wine. Eskel lifts his arms, resting his elbows on Jaskier's knees and he tips his head to one side. Already, Jaskier is struggling against the swell of emotion that fills his chest, and the soft, lopsided smile Eskel gives him doesn't help.

"I hope Geralt realizes how lucky he is," he says and for a second, Jaskier is sure his heart stops. When Eskel's eyes flick up to his, curious, almost surprised, he's sure of it. Considering the amount of stuff Geralt overhears that he's not supposed to, Jaskier's just settled on the assumption that Witchers can hear everything. Including his heartbeat.

"You have a beautiful voice," Eskel continues and Jaskier fights a losing battle to get his body under control so he doesn't give himself away. If it's not too late already.

"Thank you," he chokes out, amazed that his voice is still working properly.

He doesn't remember the last time he felt like this. With Geralt it was simple; do nothing because it won't be well-received - or so he thought - but with Eskel he's sure he could just... lean in a little, press a little closer. But where does Geralt stand in that situation? Would he be upset, worried that maybe they'd go off together and leave him? Nevermind that Jaskier's been desperately in love with him for a couple of decades now. So once again, he does nothing and he shoves the feelings down and pretends like it's fine.

But he wants to kiss him and he can feel Eskel's body heat. And Eskel doesn't seem to share any of his concerns, letting his fingers slip over the side of Jaskier's thigh and tracing invisible patterns in the silk of his trousers. Jaskier startles when Eskel rises to his feet. He plants his hands on either side of Jaskier's hips and like this, they're barely a couple of inches apart and Jaskier can feel Eskel's breath on his face and he wants. But he can't, so he shuts his eyes.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Eskel asks and Jaskier has a witty remark right on the tip of his tongue, but then Eskel's mouth is against his own, kissing it away.

After kissing Geralt for the first time, he didn’t think anything as simple as a kiss would affect him this way, but as Eskel's lips part against his own, Jaskier can feel it all the way down to his toes. He lets out a soft sound as Eskel's arm slips around his waist, pulling him closer. Eskel breaks the kiss a moment later, only pulling back far enough to look at Jaskier.

"Come to bed with us tonight," he breathes.

"Will Geralt be okay with that?"

"I hope so," Eskel chuckles, leaning back in and pressing his lips against Jaskier's jaw. "It was his idea." Oh. "I didn't think you'd want to."

"How could I not? Who wouldn't gladly climb into bed with two handsome men like you?" Eskel snorts and pulls back to look at him, but Jaskier just smiles.

The clink of bottles against each other signals Geralt's return and Jaskier instinctively leans back a little but Eskel leans in close, breathing against his ear. "Don't worry," he whispers, "he likes it."

And Jaskier knows they can both tell the way his heart beats a little quicker, but he can't help it. He leans back further as Geralt comes to kneel behind him on the bench.

"Do you?" Jaskier asks, offering his most charming smile, "like seeing me with him?"

"Mmm," Geralt hums, cupping a hand under Jaskier's head and turning him just slightly to kiss him. When he draws back, he looks up to Eskel. "I do."

It takes Jaskier a moment to realize Geralt is playing with his shirt and it's not until he shifts that he realizes he's got it untucked from his trousers. One warm hand slips up under the fabric, fingers brushing over the bare skin beneath it and Jaskier shuts his eyes with a hum, shifting to lean back against him. As far as he's concerned, they could stay right here all night and he'd be perfectly happy with it.

Eskel's hands find his thighs, pressing down as he leans forward and catches Jaskier's lips in a heated kiss. Jaskier makes a soft noise of surprise but leans into it, and once Geralt gets him out of his doublet, he slips his arms around Eskel's neck. But the kiss doesn't last long and Eskel ducks his head, dragging his mouth down Jaskier's throat and down to press kisses into his chest.

Jaskier lets himself be moved and shifted into position, hips pulled forward so his body is flush against Eskel's. And Geralt climbs up behind him, knees on either side of his hips so Jaskier is pinned perfectly between them. His fingers slip into Eskel's hair, sliding through the strands as Eskel continues his exploration down Jaskier's stomach, undoing the buttons of his shirt as he goes. And if the sounds from behind him are anything to go by, Geralt does very much enjoy watching them together.

When Jaskier's shirt is entirely undone and Eskel has moved on to removing his boots, Geralt tugs the fabric from his shoulders. And Jaskier's pulse spikes as two sets of hands slide over his skin, then Eskel's settle on his waist, teasing the hem of his trousers. Jaskier is hardly ashamed to be half-hard already - anyone would be in his position - but his breath catches as Eskel's thumb brushes over the bulge of his cock. He tips his head back, intent on finding Geralt's mouth with his own, but when he looks up at him, he pauses.

Geralt is transfixed, paused mid-motion. His teeth pressed into his bottom lip, eyes focused on Eskel's hands where they tease at Jaskier's growing erection. Oh. He really does like to watch. Well, if that's what he wants, Jaskier isn't going to disappoint him.

He wiggles his hips enticingly and Eskel makes quick work of removing his trousers. With the last obstacle out of his way, Eskel presses in close, near enough that Jaskier's cock slips against his own - close but maddeningly separated by Eskel's clothes. Jaskier groans his disappointment, but in one surprisingly smooth motion, Eskel drops back to his seat, his fingers slipping over Jaskier's bare thighs and gripping around him. Jaskier tips his head down to watch as Eskel nuzzles between his thighs, thick stubble grazing against skin.

It's rough and a little bit ticklish, but the closeness and the way Eskel presses his face against him makes Jaskier's breath catch. He's been transfixed by Eskel for weeks now, his arms, his thighs, his lips, but now he's facing the very real possibility of having those lips wrapped around his cock and he doesn't know what to do with himself. Geralt presses against him, kisses the back of his neck, and slides a hand down his stomach.

He curves a hand around his cock, only vaguely touching him as he slips up the length of him. It's maddening in its teasing and Jaskier drops his head back against Geralt's chest with a groan, but then Eskel's lips press against his heated cock, following the path of Geralt's hand and Jaskier goes limp between them.

Geralt runs his hands up Jaskier's sides, steadying him as Eskel's lips slide over him and Jaskier leans into his warmth. Eskel's hands join Geralt's, fitting around Jaskier's hips and softly rubbing against his skin as he sinks down on him. It's never been a mystery why Geralt got involved with Eskel, but if this is what he's always like when they're alone, Jaskier can certainly see why he would keep coming back for more.

He groans as his cock bumps against the back of his throat, but Eskel doesn't let that stop him, pressing his nose into the curls at the base of his cock and swallowing around him. Jaskier is sure he's going to pass out when Eskel just stays like that and he wonders vaguely if the mutations took away his gag reflex because that could prove interesting. He bites his lip with a groan, failing miserably at an attempt to keep his hips steady. But Eskel doesn't seem to mind, guiding his hips with every little thrust. And Jaskier isn't sure he'll survive being treated this way.

He slips one arm back around Geralt's neck, steadying himself as the other slips into Eskel's hair. It takes all his concentration not to roll his hips up, slide his cock down Eskel's throat. His whole body shudders and he lets out a shuddering moan, mumbling softly as Eskel shifts and bobs in his lap.

One warm hand presses against his cheek and when he turns, Geralt catches his lips in a heated kiss. It's hot and possessive and Eskel groans at the way Jaskier’s cock throbs in response. The angle is a little off but Geralt nips at his lips and kisses him so deeply that Jaskier nearly forgets about the mouth around his cock until Eskel pulls off.

The little whine of disappointment is lost to Geralt's lips and when Jaskier eventually breaks free to look back down at Eskel, he has to remind himself not to be greedy. But it's hard when Eskel's looking up at him with those beautiful golden eyes and a faint smirk on his lips.

He rises to his feet again, pushing a hand through Jaskier's hair and cupping his jaw. For a split second, he looks like he wants to say something, but he presses forward instead, catching Jaskier's lips in a soft kiss.

"Don't start without me," he mumbles and then he's pulling away, stepping over the bench and crossing toward the door.

Despite the fire, the room feels suddenly cold without Eskel pressed against him and Jaskier cuddles back against Geralt, tugging his arms around him and shifting to kiss his neck. Geralt grabs his hips, holding him firmly and turning him in his lap. He pulls Jaskier against him, brushing his hair out of his eyes and drawing his head back to look at him.

"You look good with Eskel," he breathes, "very good. But I have to know you want this. I don't want you to do it for our sake."

"Our sake?" Jaskier asks and Geralt's hand slides to the back of his head.

"Eskel's become... fond of you."

"And you're alright with that?" Jaskier asks, hopeful.

"Why wouldn't I be? I... care deeply for both of you, why wouldn't I want him to want you, too?" He presses his lips to Jaskier's just briefly and when he pulls back, he's smiling softly. "I know you want him and I want you to. He wants you, too. We both do."

Geralt ducks his head, kissing his neck and sucking at the spot right under his jaw. He slips one arm around Jaskier's waist, tugging him closer as his other hand snakes between them, wrapping around his cock. He tugs firmly, pulling a startled gasp from Jaskier as his fingers tighten around him.

Jaskier lets him for a moment, before shifting so they're facing the opposite direction. He pushes Geralt back against the table, shifting onto his knees and he bends over him, quickly running his mouth up the Geralt's length through his trousers. He mouths at him through the fabric, taking special care when he reaches the head and Geralt's hands tangle in his hair, tugging gently as his hips rise against Jaskier's mouth.

The door creaks open but Jaskier is only distantly aware of it until he hears Geralt's muffled moan. Jaskier pushes himself up to find Eskel bent over Geralt, kissing him as Geralt's arms wind around his neck, fingers pushing through his hair. In that moment, he knows exactly why Geralt likes to watch.

Heat sears through him and he barely resists wrapping a hand around himself and getting off just like this. But he catches a glint of a vial in Eskel's hand and his heart thuds a little heavier in his chest. As Eskel pulls away, Geralt's hands fall to his sides and Jaskier can't help but smile at the soft expression on his face.

When Eskel steps away from him, Jaskier realizes he's hard, his cock straining hard against the front of his trousers. Fuck. And that fucking codpiece isn't doing anything to help matters. Jaskier climbs up, straddling Geralt's hips and rocking gently against him as he reaches out for Eskel, drawing him close with two fingers in the collar of his shirt. Eskel grins as Jaskier pulls him into a firm kiss, but he doesn't linger, even as one hand slides down to settle on the swell of Jaskier's ass.

"I think it's time we made our way upstairs," Eskel rumbles and Jaskier grumbles as Geralt asks,

"Vesemir?"

"Mm," Eskel confirms, "I don't think we need another lecture about bodily fluids." Geralt just huffs a laugh and pushes himself up, slipping a hand behind Eskel's head to guide his mouth to his own.

Eskel squeezes Jaskier's ass and dips to kiss him before pulling away to collect his clothes. Jaskier reluctantly slips from Geralt's lap and the three of them make their way upstairs toward Geralt's room.

As soon as they're in the room with the door shut, Jaskier finds himself pressed against it, a hot mouth against his own. The only way he knows it's Eskel is the scent of him. In time, he's sure he'll learn the differences in their touch, but right now he's already overwhelmed and not at all bothered with who is touching him.

He's lifted off his feet, legs snaking around Eskel's waist as one arm slips under his ass. Eskel's tongue slides between his lips and Jaskier groans, shifting his hips against him. He gets a little huff of a laugh from Eskel and is promptly deposited on the bed with Eskel on top of him. He never once breaks the kiss and Jaskier reaches up, encouraged by the press of Eskel's cock against his thigh. He tugs at Eskel's shirt, loosening it from his trousers and tugging it up over his head as Geralt joins them on the bed.

With Eskel free of his shirt, Jaskier reaches down, toying with the ties on his trousers. He gets a hum of approval and it takes a moment to realize it's coming from Geralt. He shifts above Jaskier's Jaskier, then, once he's settled, gently lifts Jaskier's head into his lap as Eskel moves back down his body. He gets his mouth around Jaskier's cock again, sucking him down as Jaskier whimpers under him.

It's not the first time Jaskier's gone to bed with more than one partner - far from it - but Jaskier more often than not finds himself in control in those situations. Tonight, though, Eskel has taken charge right from the start and Jaskier has never been happier to let himself be led. He writhes as Eskel's lips seal around him, squirms as his hands slip up over his thighs. Geralt's fingers wind through his hair and when Jaskier tips his head back he realizes Geralt is watching, his eyes focused on Eskel's mouth around him. And he's hard.

Jaskier lifts his head as well as he can, curling a hand around Geralt's neck to pull him into a kiss. It's a bit of an odd angle, but Geralt kisses him deeply, rumbles low against his lips and Jaskier arches off the bed. He feels Eskel chuckle around him before pulling off and climbing up over him. He kisses his way from Jaskier's chest up to his jaw and Geralt withdraws, letting Eskel claim Jaskier's mouth in a bruising kiss. He rocks his hips and Jaskier groans into his mouth. Eskel is thick and hard where he ruts against him and Jaskier desperately wants to get his mouth on him. Or Geralt. He isn't picky, but he is very impatient.

He's not sure if he'll get this opportunity again, so he pulls away regrettably sliding out from under Eskel's weight and leaving him with Geralt. And Eskel busies himself getting Geralt out of his shirt, something Jaskier finds difficult to tear his eyes from.

Geralt lets himself be manhandled much in the same way he does with Jaskier, but while it feels incredibly intimate and important when it's happening to him, there's something thrilling about seeing it from an outside point of view. The way Geralt lets himself be pushed and pulled into position, lets Eskel climb up over him and slot their bodies together perfectly.

Geralt reaches an arm out to him and Jaskier lies down next to him, kissing him when he turns his head toward him. Eskel hums, shifting so he and Jaskier bracket Geralt in, both pressed against his sides. And Jaskier takes his chance while he can, slipping a hand up the length of Geralt's cock through his trousers. He gets a soft groan in response, muffled against his lips, and squeezes a little firmer as Eskel's hand comes up below his.

Geralt bucks against them, rolling his head back and Jaskier takes advantage of the position to press his lips to Geralt's neck, sucking lightly as his fingers slip to his trousers, picking at the buttons. Eskel's strokes speed up a little, his hand bumping against Jaskier's every few seconds, but Jaskier still manages to undo the buttons and slip Geralt's cock free of its confines. Geralt groans as bare fingers wrap around him and Jaskier pulls from his mouth, kissing his way down to the head of his cock before licking a stripe up the side of him.

There's a muffled sound of pleasure from above him but Jaskier is focused on his task now, wrapped up in the taste of Geralt on his tongue to worry about anything else. He sinks down on him, sliding up and down his length with ease as Geralt moans above him, each sound muffled by Eskel's mouth against him. The thought of them together spurs him on and he slides one hand up Geralt's thigh, and up his chest as he flattens his tongue against him.

He's been paying attention to what Geralt likes, committing it to memory every time they're together, taking notes on what makes Geralt moan and what makes him writhe and arch off the bed. He's learning quickly. Geralt likes to be teased, even if he would never admit it; likes when Jaskier sucks him nice and slow, letting his tongue drag along the length of him, his lips slide delicately over the head. And Jaskier likes to take his time with Geralt, so it works out nicely.

Geralt groans and Eskel kisses the sounds from his mouth shifting against him and Jaskier flicks his eyes up to watch. He's not above admitting that watching them turns him on and if he's allowed, he may as well take advantage of it. But Eskel does something and Geralt whines against his lips, hips jumping forward to press his cock against the roof of Jaskier's mouth. He shudders as Jaskier sinks back on him and wraps an arm around Eskel's neck, pulling him closer.

Jaskier wants to watch, but he gets lost in the rock of Geralt's hips, the heady scent of him and he shuts his eyes and slides one hand up Geralt's chest. He teases at his nipple, rubbing it firmly, spurred on by the way Geralt twitches beneath him. He doesn't even realize Eskel's got his cock out until he hears a rumbling groan and looks over to find him with a hand around himself, leaning in so he's rutting against Geralt's thigh and that's certainly something.

Heat sears through him and Jaskier aches to get his mouth around him. He doesn't think he could, but he desperately wants to try. Eskel slips the hand from his cock to reach out, brushing his fingers against Jaskier's cheek and lifting him from Geralt's cock.

"Get him ready for me?" he breathes and Jaskier nods before he's pulled into a sloppy kiss.

It lingers longer than Jaskier's expecting and he finds himself pulled into Eskel's lap and he only just manages to snake a hand between them, wrapping around the head of Eskel's cock before Eskel's pulling away again.

He doesn't mind much when he considers the idea of watching Eskel fuck Geralt and he pulls away, running a hand up Geralt's thigh.

"Roll over for me?" he asks and Geralt is quick to comply, though he tugs Jaskier down against him. He smiles as he kisses him and Jaskier is loath to move, but he wriggles out of Geralt's grip nonetheless.

He shifts to straddle his hips, kissing a line down Geralt's spine until he reaches the swell of his ass. Jaskier squeezes the flesh, bending down to nip at him gently and he settles between Geralt's thighs. He feels when Eskel slips up behind him, but he tries to focus on Geralt, bending low to kiss him before pressing between his cheeks.

He licks a stripe over his hole and Geralt shudders under him, reaching back to grab Jaskier's hand and hold it. It's absurdly romantic when Jaskier has his face in his ass, but he loves it and he squeezes back hard. Jaskier starts off slow, with soft kisses and gentle touches, but Geralt rocks beneath him, pushing back against his mouth and it's hard to deny him exactly what he wants.

He presses his tongue against him, letting Geralt relax under him before pushing against the muscle. Geralt is surprisingly giving and Jaskier pushes into him without much effort. It's a heady feeling, the way Geralt trembles under his touch and squeezes his hand, thumb tracing circles in his skin. Jaskier fucks into him slowly, licking around his rim before pushing in again and Geralt whines as he pushes deeper, fucks him quicker.

When Jaskier gets a finger in alongside his tongue, Geralt arches off the bed and Jaskier almost thinks he could make him come just like this. And he's sorely tempted, even as Eskel presses up against his back, slipping a bottle of oil next to him.

"I want to see him come on your fingers," Eskel growls, low and rough against his ear and before Jaskier can even answer Eskel's nosing at his neck, nipping at the skin beneath his ear. Jaskier leans into the touch, withdrawing his fingers and reaching for the oil. He has every intention of following through with Eskel's command.

He slicks his fingers and presses one back between Geralt's cheeks, vividly aware of Eskel leaning over him, watching every movement. And he's as determined to please Eskel as he is Geralt. He works one finger into him, leaning low again to lick around the intrusion and Geralt mumbles into the pillows and he rolls his hips.

It's' not long before he can get a second finger into him and Jaskier crooks both fingers, pressing deep and seeking out that certain spot. When he finds it, Geralt whimpers and Eskel nuzzles against his neck. It makes it hard to concentrate, but Eskel seems unworried, wrapping one arm around his waist and slipping a hand down to wrap around his cock. Jaskier keens, jerking into the touch.

"Needy," Eskel hums. Which. It's hardly his fault. Eskel rocks against him and Jaskier is tempted to ask him to fuck him instead, prep or no.

He bends over, pushing his hips back against him and grinds back against Eskel's cock as he works into Geralt. His rhythm is a little unsteady, but he's been hard for so long he can barely help the way he rocks between his hand and his cock. It's a miracle he can even think enough to keep fingering Geralt. But he does, and when he gets a third into him, Geralt is panting and rutting against the bed.

"Jask," he groans, "please-"

"Are you gonna come for me?" Jaskier asks, his voice shaking as Eskel's cock slides against his hole. He's pushing close to the edge too and he's not sure Geralt coming won't tip him over.

Eskel's fingers tighten around him and Jaskier pushes through with a groan, thighs shaking as he shoves his fingers deep and presses against his prostate. Geralt squeezes his hand so hard Jaskier thinks he'll lose sensation in his fingers and he pushes his hips back against him, encouraging the press of Jaskier's fingers.

"Fuck, he looks good like this, doesn't he?" Eskel hums. "We're so damn lucky." He's still working at a spot on Jaskier's neck and he knows he'll have a mark in the morning and something about the fact that it's from Eskel makes it all that much more thrilling.

He tries to lean back into Eskel, but then he's being pushed forward. Eskel keeps him steady, but Jaskier's overwhelmed. He pushes Geralt's hand up, shifting to lean low over him, rutting into Eskel's fist. He rubs into Geralt and he can feel that he's close. Geralt's hips twitch shakily under him and he pulls Jaskier's hand under him, kissing his palm and pressing his nose against it.

"Jask," he breathes and that's as far as he gets before he's coming, shuddering through his orgasm.

Jaskier keeps his fingers inside him, thrusting lightly as Geralt rides through it. Geralt squirms under him, rocking back onto him even after he's come down and when Jaskier moves to pull away, Eskel intervenes. He pulls Jaskier back against him, propping him up on his lap and Jaskier is too overwhelmed to do anything but slump against his chest, head rolling on his shoulder as Eskel jerks him quick and hard.

He comes in a matter of seconds, arching off of him and crying out. Eskel stokes him through it and when a second set of hands rest on his hips, Jaskier opens his eyes to find Geralt sitting in front of him. He tips forward to kiss him and then, as he slumps back against Eskel, Geralt leans in to kiss Eskel too.

"Still wanna fuck me?" Geralt mumbles and Eskel huffs against his mouth.

"Gods, yes," he breathes. "Lie down for me."

Geralt does as he's asked, settling on his stomach, and Jaskier scoots out of the way, sprawling out next to him. He presses his nose into Geralt's side, inhaling the scent of him. He knows Geralt and Eskel will both have another couple of rounds in them, but he's already tired and quite happy to just cuddle up against Geralt's side.

Geralt's eyes drop shut and he breathes softly against Jaskier's lips, groaning as Eskel presses into him. Jaskier watches the way pleasure washes over his face and Eskel groans in time with him which is enough to have Jaskier's cock twitching again. Geralt flops against the bed, pulling Jaskier close to kiss him softly, even as he's jolted by Eskel.

Geralt is beautiful in the way he writhes against the bed and Jaskier can't keep his eyes off him. He shouldn't be getting hard again already but he's obsessed with the way Geralt moves and the sounds Eskel makes as he fucks him. Jaskier rolls onto his back, pressing against Geralt's side as he runs a hand down his own stomach. He slips down, wrapping a hand around himself and strokes slowly, feeling the way his cock swells under his touch. When he looks up, he finds Eskel watching him, a soft smirk on his face and Eskel reaches down, pushing Jaskier's hand away to jerk him off himself.

Jaskier slumps but his hips jump up. He's sensitive, but Eskel's hand feels incredible and he can't help but press into the touch. He groans as he leans into Geralt tipping his head to kiss his cheek, but Geralt shifts onto his elbows, leaning over to kiss him properly. He nips at his lips and Jaskier groans, reaching for Geralt and cupping his face.

He holds him close and Geralt kisses him hard, lips parting to deepen the kiss, shifting so he's closer, one arm draped over Jaskier's chest. Geralt's thumb brushes against his nipple and Jaskier whines against his lips, squirming against the bed. Eskel just squeezes him harder and slides his hand to the base, dipping down to suck the head of his cock into his mouth.

"Fuck," Jaskier hisses, "Fuck, Eskel please-"

Eskel flicks his tongue at him and sinks down just far enough to press his tongue against the underside of the head and Jaskier whimpers.

Eskel pulls off abruptly, running a hand up the inside of Jaskier's thigh.

"What if Geralt sucks you off?" he asks and Geralt hums as Jaskier groans.

"Would you like that?" Geralt asks, drawing away to kiss his neck. "Do you want to come again?"

"Yeah," Jaskier breathes and Geralt hums against his lips again.

"Sit up, Jask, let me see you."

Jaskier pulls himself upright, scrambling to his knees and shifts to kneel in front of Geralt. He gives himself a couple of quick strokes and catches Eskel's eye over Geralt's head.

Eskel gives him a short smack and Geralt grumbles but he presses his head into Jaskier's stomach and Jaskier is so desperately in love with him. He reaches down to brush Geralt's cheek, smiling at him as Eskel does something particularly delightful behind him and Geralt shoves his hips back.

"Fuck, Eskel," he groans and Jaskier runs a soothing hand down his spine.

He meets Eskel's eyes just for a moment, the heat in them burning straight through to his core. His cock twitches just as Geralt ducks his head, his nose brushing against him. Jaskier's mouth drops open. He's trying to be patient because Geralt has been so fucking patient with him, but it's difficult when he's rock hard and Geralt's breath is so hot against his cock.

With a groan, he slips a hand around himself, watching as Eskel's face presses between Geralt's cheeks and the way Geralt jerks and groans under his attention. Jaskier sits back on his heel and Geralt drops with him, pressing kisses against Jaskier's thighs and moving up to suck his cock into his mouth.

He swallows him down in one swift motion, propping himself up on his elbows. Jaskier drops back, knees pressing apart instinctively and he presses a soft hand to the back of Geralt's head. He pushes his fingers through his hair, dropping his head back and following the motion of Geralt's as he takes Jaskier's cock all the way down. He's quicker at it than Eskel, slipping right back up to press his tongue under the head. And fuck if he isn't good with his tongue. It's one of the few things that really surprised Jaskier when they introduced sex into their relationship and he shudders now as Geralt winds his tongue around him.

"Oh," he groans. Eskel looks up at him again and whatever he does next has Geralt pitching forward, swallowing around Jaskier's cock as he shoves his hips back hard.

Jaskier nearly doubles over and his hips give a sharp thrust forward though Geralt doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he moans deeper and Jaskier feels the vibrations of it around his cock.

"It's okay," Eskel hums, "you can fuck his mouth, he likes it."

Lust swells in Jaskier's chest as Geralt gives a grunt of assent and he runs a hand through Geralt's hair, testing his reaction as he rolls his hips. The response he gets is unequivocally positive and Geralt's hands slip under his thighs, holding him like that as Jaskier rocks his hips a little harder.

Jaskier rocks forward, pressing into the wet heat of Geralt's mouth. He's still so sensitive and the occasional graze of Geralt's teeth sends sparks up his spine. He lets his fingers slip through Geralt's hair, tugging gently and winding through it.

Jaskier can feel when Eskel thrusts into him, the way Geralt's body sways with the motion, pushing forward onto Jaskier and backward onto Eskel. It's intoxicating to see Geralt this way, giving himself up completely to the pair of them. He's always been giving as long as Jaskier's known him, and in bed, he's no different, but this feels so much bigger than his usual caring demeanour and Jaskier is a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of trust Geralt must have in them.

In a rush of emotion, Jaskier withdraws and when Geralt looks up at him, he pushes Geralt up to his knees, shuffling up close to wrap his arms around his neck. He twists the fingers of one hand in Geralt's hair, reaching down with the other to stroke him slowly. Geralt keens under the touch, rocking his hips slowly with a soft groan against Geralt's lips.

"Tell me how he feels," Jaskier breathes, pressing his face into Geralt's neck. He nips at his skin and kisses over the marks as they fade.

"Good," Geralt groans. "Really good."

Jaskier hums and flicks his eyes up to meet Eskel's. In an instant, he's tugged forward and Eskel's mouth crashes against his own, tugging his hair and biting softly at his lower lip. One of Geralt's arms slips around his waist and Jaskier presses forward, eager to be closer to both of them.

His cock aches where it's trapped against Geralt's hip and his hips shift as though of their own will, sliding through the dip of Geralt's hip. He moans softly, stuttering against Eskel's lips and then Eskel pulls away. He leans over Geralt's other side, whispering against his ear.

"On your back," is all he says as Geralt complies, Jaskier shuffles out of the way, watching the way his hair splays out around his head. Geralt truly is beautiful and when Jaskier looks up to Eskel, it's clear he's having the same thought.

Eskel gets his knees under Geralt's thighs, slipping two fingers into him and thrusting quickly. Geralt groans as he lifts his hips, pushing back onto Eskel's fingers. Jaskier watches with fascination, sitting back on his heels and absently stroking himself to the scene in front of him. He'd be happy to spend the rest of the night just like this, happy enough to have been invited to bed with them in the first place, but Geralt apparently has other ideas.

Eskel withdraws his fingers, smoothing up Geralt's side as he presses into him again and Geralt shuts his eyes and rolls his head back. He reaches out, running a hand down Jaskier's thigh before curling a hand around his wrist. He tugs him forward and Jaskier lets himself be pulled on top of him, straddling Geralt's hips.

Geralt kisses him and Jaskier drops onto his chest, winding his fingers through Geralt's hair as he deepens the kiss. A warm hand slides down his back and he arches into it, his cock slipping against Geralt's skin as he does. Eskel's hand slips over his hip, fingertips brushing along his thigh and dragging back up to his ass. Eskel's not subtle, not at all, but when his fingers press between Jaskier's cheeks, slick and probing, Jaskier whimpers.

Geralt's hand slips into his hair and he draws back, letting Jaskier bury his face in his neck. He groans softly, kissing Geralt's skin as Eskel works a finger into him. It's hot and tight and wonderful and Jaskier can't help the way he ruts against Geralt's stomach, pressing his cock into the soft flesh of his stomach. But Geralt evidently doesn't mind, cupping his ass with one hand while the other pushes through his hair.

"Feel good?" he asks and Jaskier groans a response as Eskel thrusts into him again.

"Yeah," Jaskier breathes, "gods, yes."

Eskel makes quick work of opening him up and Jaskier is disappointed when he withdraws. Eskel's fingers are thick and talented and he'd have been happy to come on them. He groans his dissatisfaction, rocking his hips back, but then Geralt's hands are on him, guiding him down onto his cock.

Geralt's hips stutter as he bumps against him, but Jaskier is hot and overstimulated and impatient. He pushes back onto him with a groan, sitting up to lean against Eskel's chest. Eskel's arm winds around his chest, holding him close as Jaskier rocks forward, adjusting to the stretch of Geralt's cock. He settles with Geralt fully sheathed and Geralt's hands come up to hold his hips down as he shifts, pushing off of Eskel's chest.

He drops his head back on Eskel's shoulder, moaning softly against his neck and reaches down to stroke himself, fingers slipping through pre-come to tease at the head of his cock. He's so close and being caught between the pair of them is doing nothing to stifle the need searing through him. And Geralt bucks under him, fingers digging into his skin as he arches off the bed. Jaskier braces himself on his chest, rubbing circles with his thumb until he's unceremoniously tugged back down.

Geralt kisses him hard, arms wound tightly around his shoulders and Jaskier just goes limp against him as he fucks him hard. When Geralt comes, he digs his fingers into Jaskier's scalp, nose pressed into his neck and Jaskier whimpers as Geralt thrusts deep.

For a moment they're still and then Eskel shifts behind them and Geralt makes a little groaning sound as Eskel pulls out. Geralt follows after him, loosening his grip and shifting to withdraw. He runs his hands up Jaskier's back and Jaskier can feel the way Eskel leans over him, kissing his neck. He's still not wholly sure how he wound up wrapped up in not one but two Witchers, but he certainly doesn't regret it. Eskel is soft and sweet and apparently, excellent at making Jaskier lose his mind and Geralt is. Well, he's Geralt. Jaskier was lost on him from the very first moment.

"You didn't come," Geralt mumbles and Jaskier is just about to tell him it's fine when Eskel bends low over him, nipping playfully at the back of his neck.

"Can I fuck you?" Eskel breathes and a whole new wave of arousal engulfs Jaskier. He whines and pushes back as Eskel's cock presses between his cheeks.

"Yeah," Jaskier gasps, "yeah, please."

Eskel doesn't waste time, draping himself over Jaskier's back and pushing into him. He's bigger than Geralt and there's some resistance, but when Eskel groans against his ear, Jaskier nearly goes limp with it. He drops onto his hands, planted on the bed on either side of Geralt's head and presses his forehead against Geralt's. Two sets of hands hold him steady as Eskel bottoms out.

He's careful, moving in shallow movements and normally Jaskier would appreciate the thought with a cock like that, but he's already slick and fucked loose and he just wants to come again. He shoves his hips back hard, prompting a deep groan from Eskel, but it seems to get his point across. Eskel holds his hips, rutting into his before withdrawing and thrusting hard.

He picks up the pace and Jaskier's skin prickles with the pleasure of it, though he goes limp, draping himself across Geralt's chest and burying his face in his hair. Geralt's legs are still wrapped around Eskel's and he pulls him closer as he kisses Jaskier's temple, brushes the hair from his face.

"Oh," Jaskier whines and Geralt kisses him so softly, a stark contrast to the way Eskel fucks him, quick and hard.

They're both drawing close. He can feel it in the way Eskel's form falters, the way his hips stutter just the slightest bit, the way he presses deep and sprawls over Jaskier's back, content to rock into him. It's constant pressure against his prostate and Jaskier whimpers. His cock drips against Geralt's stomach and he's so fucking close but he can't tip over that edge. Eskel's breath is on his neck and he kisses his neck. It's obvious that he's not going to last much longer, but he nuzzles against Jaskier's shoulders.

"Still good?" he asks and Jaskier manages a weak nod.

"Close," he mumbles and Geralt hums from under him.

He gets a hand in Jaskier's hair, pulling him down into a sloppy kiss as one hand winds around Jaskier's cock. The desperate moan is lost between Geralt's lips, but Jaskier is pushed forward with each of Eskel's thrusts and it doesn't take long before he's spilling all over Geralt's chest, forehead buried in his neck.

Eskel follows shortly, pulling out gently before flopping onto the bed next to Geralt. Jaskier tries to move, but he's held in place by a firm arm around his waist, and when Geralt kisses him, he lets himself relax.

Geralt gets an arm around Eskel's neck, drawing him closer and as Eskel shifts, he throws an arm over Jaskier's waist, fingers brushing lightly over Geralt's forearm. The last thing Jaskier knows is Eskel leaning in for a kiss before sleep overtakes him and his eyes drop shut.

It's dark when he wakes again. The middle of the night, he suspects. There's a soft moan from next to him and a heavy weight around his shoulders - Eskel - and he shuffles toward his warmth. But a sharp groan startles him to wakefulness and it only takes a second for him to realize Geralt isn't where he left him when he fell asleep.

A quick look around puts Geralt on his knees at the foot of the bed, his head between Eskel's thighs. Eskel groans again, shifting to arch off the bed and Jaskier smiles to himself. He's still exhausted, and while the thought of joining them makes his cock twitch with anticipation, he'd rather sleep for a few more hours. Let them have their fun.

These two are going to kill him one day, but at least it will be a good death.

[contemplativepancakes]

abs of steel

the 2.5k story of how Geralt came to have his season 2 armor, with some help from Jaskier, of course. read on ao3 here!

Jaskier putters around the room, with one of Geralt’s dozens of tiny bottles in his hand and a rag in the other. He gives it a half hearted shine before setting it back down and looking at Geralt. 

Jaskier’s not sure how Geralt ever survived without him, honestly, because it seems like finding Geralt in varying states of unconsciousness is becoming a much too common occurrence. He supposes Geralt’s amount of passing out probably hasn’t changed, just the amount of times someone has coming looking for him. Jaskier’s heart does not ache at the thought. 

Geralt’s chest moves shallowly under the blanket, and Jaskier goes to stoke the fire. He had sweetalked the innkeeper into giving them a better room when it had become apparent that their stay was going to be...extended, and he’s glad for it. The room has its own bath tub, and a fire place, and there’s even a soft rug by the bed where Jaskier can sit and compose without worrying about jostling Geralt’s injuries. 

Jaskier casts a longing glance to his notebook, wishing that he could write and make the voices in his head stop whirling, but lyrics have been evading him ever since he found Geralt unconscious and even paler than usual. 

Geralt had just been going after a lesser vampire, had reassured Jaskier that it wasn’t going to be a big deal, and to not wait up, but Jaskier’s glad he did. 

Frankly, he doesn’t know why Geralt tells him not to do things when they both know he’s not going to listen. 

He supposes it makes Geralt feel better. He doesn’t pretend to understand what happens in Geralt’s brain. He imagines it’s a lot of grunting and internal hmm-ing. 

Geralt stirs under the covers, and Jaskier rushes across the room to stand by his side. Geralt blinks up at him, and Jaskier lets himself drift a hand over Geralt’s concerningly warm brow. He’s hot, but he’s not sweating, and Jaskier bites his lip. He gives Geralt what he hopes is a reassuring smile, but he thinks it might be more of a grimace. 

Geralt slips a hand out from under the covers, and Jaskier takes the liberty of reaching out his own. Geralt could have died; he can’t be held responsible for his actions. “What happened?” Geralt groans, his voice scratchy and deep from disuse.

“Good question,” Jaskier says, glaring at him. Now that it doesn’t seem like Geralt is any imminent danger of never waking up again, it’s a little easier to be mad instead of just wracked with worry. 

“It was...a pack of them,” Geralt remembers haltingly. 

Jaskier hums, brushing a hand through Geralt’s hair. He wonders if Geralt would let him get away with brushing it. Maybe he’ll ask when Geralt doesn’t seem so groggy. 

“It’s okay,” Jaskier soothes. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” Geralt automatically protests, going to sit up. 

“Geralt, you are not, your rib is broken and the healer said one of your intestines might be punctured. You could get sepsis.”

“Witchers don’t get infections. I’m fine,” Geralt says again, but it’s even less convincing this time. 

“Just...stay in bed. Can you do that? I know it goes against everything in you to not do your utmost to aggravate me, but listen just this once.”

Geralt lays back against the pillow, his hair spreading out in a halo around his head. “Fine.”

“Don’t look so pleased about it, love.”

If looks could kill, Jaskier would be haunting one very grumpy witcher. “I’m sure you’ll survive,” Jaskier says breezily. “I know, it’s the epitome of cruelty to make you rest. Someone let witcher protective services know.”

“My swords?” Geralt asks gruffly, changing the topic. 

Jaskier rolls his eyes and huffs. Like he would forget Geralt’s swords. “Oiled and put away.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t be grumpy just because you don’t have an excuse to get out of bed.”

“What about my armor?”

Jaskier casts a nervous glance to the corner. “I’m afraid that’s beyond my talents. They’re a little shredded.”

Geralt follows his line of sight to where his leather armor is in a pile on the ground, blood streaked and torn. 

“Well, I need to get new, then,” Geralt says, attempting to sit up again. 

He stops with a look from Jaskier, and Jaskier gives a hum of satisfaction. “I can get it for you.”

“Jaskier, you don’t even know what to look for.”

Jaskier glares at him. “How long have I been travelling with you for? And you don’t even think I know what you look for in your armor?”

Geralt harumphs. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Jaskier asks in delight. He wasn’t actually expecting to win that battle. Maybe he can get Geralt out of something black, for a change. 

“Here,” Geralt says, leaning over the bed to rustle through his pack. Give the armorer this.”

Jaskier takes the drawing and instructions, and he’s ready to skip to the armorer’s, but Geralt’s expression pinches as he settles back into his spot on the bed, so he hurries back to his side. “What hurts?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says, taking a page out of Geralt’s book. 

Jaskier crosses his arms and stares at him for a solid minute before Geralt relents. “My ribs.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Now just let me see.”

He peels back the covers, wincing at the mess that is Geralt’s chest. By the time Jaskier had dragged him back to town, most of his wounds had started to clot, so the healer thought it was best to let them breathe, but now Jaskier has to look at them. 

He carefully drifts his fingers over the torn tissue and mottled purple of what’s still intact, watching Geralt’s reaction carefully. 

Eventually, he draws back. “I don’t think there’s anything else I can do,” he admits. “Let me get you something for the pain.”

Geralt grunts in annoyance, no doubt meaning something about witchers being nothing but vessels for pain or some other horrible thing that they ingrained in him during his nightmare of an upbringing. He goes over to Geralt’s bag, looking for the right roots and herbs to concoct his mixture. He pulls out Geralt’s mortar and pestle, grinding the ingredients together until he has a lumpy paste. He carefully scoops it out of the mortar and into a glass filled with water on the bedside table. He mixes it together vigorously and sets it back on the table for a moment while he helps Geralt sit up. 

Geralt tries to wave him off, but Jaskier insists. Once there’s three pillows propping him up, Jaskier hands him the glass. Geralt sniffs at it doubtfully. “I think you might be trying to get ready of me,” he says. 

Jaskier hides his laugh behind his hand. “I wouldn’t go through all this trouble if I was, now would I?”

“I suppose not,” Geralt sighs, grimacing as he knocks the whole thing back in one drag. 

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Geralt smacks his lips together, gesturing for Jaskier to get him some more water. “Terrible. Possibly life threatening.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome. Can I trust you to behave while I’m gone?”

Geralt chooses not to dignify that with an answer. “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Jaskier says. “The innkeeper has children, don’t make me make them come up here to watch after you.”

“I’ll behave,” Geralt says dryly. 

“Good. You better be in that exact spot when I come back.”

“Hmm,” Geralt says, and Jaskier knows that means that Geralt is the one who’s going to be ignoring him, for a change. 

Jaskier just hopes that Geralt won’t jostle himself too much as he steps out of the door and into the hallway. 

He makes his way down the steps and out onto the dusty main road of the village, peeking at the other wares being sold, particularly eyeing a doublet with stunning embroidery that he can’t believe is being sold in this dank little town, of all places. He makes a mental note to come back after getting Geralt’s armor. Jaskier investigates the baked goods, inhaling the scent of bread and surveying the hand pies, looking at their delightfully golden exteriors longingly. 

Jaskier makes it to the armorer without incident, a brass bell ringing overhead as he steps inside. The armorer crosses her arms as she regards Jaskier thoughtfully. “You lost?” she asks. 

Jaskier flashes her a winning smile. “Not at all. I’m here for a friend.”

The armorer stares back at him, unimpressed. “You know, it’s important that I’m able to measure someone to give them the best fit. I don’t want someone getting killed and blaming it on my armor. No, if someone dies, it’s going to be because of their own ineptitude.”

“I’m certain that won’t be a problem,” Jaskier says. “Have you ever made armor for a witcher before?”

Her eyes light up. “Your friend is a witcher? To tell the truth, things have been a little slow around here since the war ended.”

“I’ll pay you well, don’t worry,” Jaskier says, producing the paper Geralt had given him from his cloak with a flourish. 

She practically snatches the scroll out of Jaskier’s hands, her eyes roving over the paper. She mutters something to herself before turning back to look at Jaskier. 

“I still need the measurements,” she says. “It’s even more crucial for such an important client.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, I have them right here.” Jaskier fishes his notebook from his satchel, flipping through until he finds the page with Geralt’s sizes on it. Jaskier swears that Geralt purposely ruins all of his fine clothing between banquets he drags him to, because Jaskier always has to buy Geralt new clothes. 

Actually, come to think of it, he’s never seen the evidence of them being damaged, and it’s not like Geralt just wears them around. Jaskier shakes his head as he realizes Geralt probably just sells them. Jaskier supposes Geralt does always swear that will be the last banquet he ever attends after each one, just for Jaskier to talk him into one more, but that’s no excuse. 

Jaskier tilts his head for a moment as he contemplates how to get his revenge, smirking when the idea dawns upon him. Jaskier sketches a quick picture and pushes it towards the armorer. “How much extra would this cost?” 

She looks down at the page dubiously. 

Jaskier gives her his most charming smile. 

-

It’s been three days, and Geralt is sick of lying in bed. No matter how much he swears to Jaskier that he’s better, that his rib has knit itself back together, he doesn’t believe him.. It’s just a bruised rib at this point, but Jaskier doesn’t take pity on him, just offers a distraction for Geralt in the form of being better at gwent than he has any right to be. 

Geralt sighs heavily, looking at Jaskier out of the corner of his eye. 

“Don’t think that will make me take pity on you, Geralt,” Jaskier says, not even looking up from his composing notebook. “Besides, we have to wait for your armor anyway.”

“What’s taking so long?” Geralt complains. 

“Perfection takes time. Besides, the armorer’s never seen any of your witcher-y things, so you have to give her time to figure it out.”

Geralt groans and sits up, swinging his legs out of the bed. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Jaskier rushes to him, but Geralt brushes him off. “I’m fine,” he growls. 

Jaskier raises his hands and backs away. “Fine, fine. Don’t be so grumpy when all I’ve been doing is taking care of you.”

Geralt glares at him, and Jaskier strokes a hand through his soft hair. “You do deserve it, you know,” Jaskier says. 

Geralt looks down, a bothersome flush creeping up his neck. 

“I think I’ll go check on the armor, since you’re in such a rush.” Jaskier rolls his eyes. “She said it would be done sometime today.”

Geralt rummages through his pack, hardly looking up at Jaskier. “Good. Then we can finally move on. I was talking to the innkeeper about a wyvern a day’s ride away.”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, here, hmm?”

Geralt grumbles as Jaskier leaves, finding himself excited to see the new armor against his will. He so rarely gets anything that doesn’t already have a crust of dirt on it that anytime he has a sword or armor made, he finds himself looking forward to it. 

Geralt goes to the mirror in the corner of the room and lifts up his shirt, noting how the mottled purple has become large splotches of greenish brown. Everything’s looking good, so he sorts his satchel, shaking his head fondly as he reorganizes his elixirs. Whenever Jaskier gets his hands on them, he always sorts them by color, but that’s not what Geralt likes. He could just tell Jaskier to leave his things alone, but he doesn’t have the heart for it. 

Geralt putters around the room, making the bed and hoping that if he’s ready to go by the time Jaskier gets back, he can convince him to move on. He can smell Jaskier’s anxious energy, anyway; he knows Jaskier is just staying here for his benefit. 

Geralt finishes putting the last of his things into his pack and is just contemplating going down to the stables to see Roach when Jaskier bursts through the door, armor in hand. 

Jaskier hands it off to him with a self satisfied flourish, and Geralt freezes as he looks at it. “You can’t be serious.”

“The armorer and I thought it would make you like quite fetching.”

“Jaskier.”

“What, don’t you like it? It’s a gift, Geralt, I’m offended.”

Geralt rubs his fingers over the indents in the chest plate. He has so many questions. 

“It’s the new fashion,” Jaskier assures him. 

“I’m a witcher, not a model.”

“Why not both?” Jaskier asks airily. He looks around the room. “So, are you ready to go then?”

Jaskier steps forward to help him buckle the new armor in place, Geralt eyeing it dubiously. Besides from the obvious issue of the chest piece, it’s not even black; it’s a dark green that catches and shimmers in the light. Geralt resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. No one is going to take him seriously now. 

He huffs a sigh, trying to communicate his displeasure with Jaskier, but as ever, Jaskier seems immune to his glares. Geralt slings his satchel over his shoulder and steels himself. 

As they walk down the street, it’s not as terrible as Geralt was expecting. Sure, the sun is glinting off of his abs and blinding him a little, but Geralt doesn’t hear anyone snickering at him. Everyone just walks by, looks at him, and quickly glances at their feet, which is par for the course for the life of a witcher. 

Geralt tilts his chin a little higher, thinking maybe this won’t be so bad after all. He has a new spring in his step when he hears someone calling his name behind him. Geralt turns around, thinking it sounds an awful lot like his brother, and he’s proven right when Lambert skids to a stop in front of him. 

“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you; I heard there’s a nest of wyverns a few towns over—” Lambert’s mouth flaps for a second. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Geralt turns to glare at Jaskier, and he smiles innocently. 

[sushireads]

yoongi fic recs

this is a list of yoongi fics i’ve read and loved very much! enjoy. <3

ps. all fics with 🍙 are the ones i loved a little bit more.

“Where’s my kiss?” by @mintseesaw​

fluff | drabble | 1.6K words

A Wish Out of Water by @jimlingss​

🍙, fluff, humor, fantasy | two shots

A genie could solve all your problems. Though you wouldn’t even know exactly what to ask for - money, a warmer house, a better job, a better life? But Min Yoongi is no ordinary genie. He’s here to make your life a living hell. Too bad it was hell to begin with.

GENIE au

All I Want for Christmas by @hayjeon​

🍙 | one shot | 13K words

CEO, CHRISTMAS, SECRETARY, SINGLE DAD au

an out of bounds umbrella by @yoonsgiggle​

fluff | one shot | 10.2K words

you’re apologetic about almost blinding your university’s star point guard with the broken tip of your umbrella until you share a class with him and find out he’s a three star recruit but a four star dick or min yoongi doesn’t find your high school musical puns amusing.  

BASKETBALL PLAYER, COLLEGE, ENEMIES TO LOVERS au

aquiver by @floralseokjin​

🍙, fluff, angst, smut | series

Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

IDOL au

bad boys bring it to you by @yuengi

smut | one shot | 7.1K words

TATTOO ARTIST au

Black & White by @akinnie75

🍙, fluff, angst | one shot | 24.7K words

You finally confessed to Yoongi after he asked if you like him. His response is to give you a contract to sign. However, you soon realize that Yoongi manufactured your emotions and manipulated you to like him all for the sake of his senior project.

SLOW BURN au

Blackthorn Manor by @kpopfanfictrash 

one shot | 7.5K words

After becoming the assistant of professional recluse Min Yoongi, you begin to notice strange things. Noises which shouldn’t take place, shadows which shouldn’t move like they do. You’re almost convinced that you’re crazy - until something happens, something unbelievable to make you realize you’re not.

GOTH au

Blow by @inkofyoongi

smut, fluff | one shot | 5.5K words

Yoongi loves you, even if he’s never said it… but gestures sometimes speak louder than words.

BOYFRIEND au

budapest by @junghelioseok

smut | one shot | 11.1K words

over many years and across several dozen cities, you fell in love.

SECRET AGENT au

Clair De Lune by @yoonia

smut | one shot | 23K words

You were ready to leave a part of your life to move on to the next, and he is willing to give you a chance to end it glamorously. But at what cost? And will he be a part of the life you are leaving behind or will he be there for the next part of it?

—part of @bangtansmutcentral‘s In The Mood Project

ESCORT, MUSICIAN au

Cut Me Open by @hayjeon

angst, smut, fluff | two shots

—a spin-off from Cardio Palpitations

MARRIED COUPLE, SURGEON au

dancing with the devil by @minnpd

smut | one shot | 6.8K words

Easy Rebound by @ditzymax

smut, angst | one shot | 6.5K words

Yoongi is one of the star players on the college basketball team. You are the head of the cheerleading squad. The pair of you would make the most beautiful (if most cliché) couple on campus, except neither of you have ever wanted anything more than the frequent, casual fuck. Yet somehow Yoongi finds his emotions straying towards dangerous territory.

BASKETBALL PLAYER, CHEERLEADER, COLLEGE au

ego: hoe chronicles by @suga-kookiemonster

smut | one shot | 7.2K words

he was messing with you again. he was messing with you, trying to get a reaction out of you simply for his own amusement. but you refused to give it to him—refused to give him the satisfaction of playing right into his hands.

—an alternate universe of ego

COLLEGE, FRAT BOY, FUCK BOY au

eight by @cupofteaguk

🍙, fluff | one shot | 5K words

or, Eight times Min Yoongi tells you he loves you

IDOL au

First-Date BAIT! by @jimlingss

fluff | two shots

First dates are embarrassing. First dates are awkward. I’ve been through countless ones, sitting across from people who bored the living daylights out of me. It was less exciting than watching paint dry. Some dates were so utterly rude - I think you and I both know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on that. But now we both don’t have to waste our time anymore!

With First Date Bait they went out for me! Afterwards, they informed me if it was recommended to go out on a second date. It’s amazing with a 99.99% accuracy rate! That’s how I ended up meeting my husband!

First Date Bait.

Why waste your time with awkward first dates?

—part of the Service Series

Hades by @littlemisskookie

horror, smut, angst, fantasy | one shot | 9.4K words

You meet a rather dreamy- albeit annoying, new kid who sweeps you off your feet. Too bad it’s in the middle of a series of murders around town.

GREEK GOD au

heavy sugar by @kinktae

smut | one shot | 8K words

The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

—part of the rewind series

1920s, GANGSTER, FLAPPER, MAFIA au

i’m not your daddy by @scriptaed

🍙, fluff | one shot | 2.5K words

learning that his daughter no longer wishes to wed him but rather his now-arch-enemy jungkook marks the most soul-crushing day your husband has ever had to endure. no one, and he means no one, is more deserving of his angel than daddy min himself, and he’s willing to do anything to earn his daughter’s heart back.

DAD, PARENT au

Ink Nemesis by @scriptaed

🍙, angst, fluff | series

As an aspiring writer drowning under the public’s radar, a click of the pen is all you need to accept your supervisor’s offer to co-write an article for the SS - Secrets Spilled, a regular section of your company’s weekly tabloid; but fabricated stories and invasive details aren’t all that you write when you discover Min Yoongi’s dirty little secret. 

FAKE DATING, IDOL, PAPARAZZI au

La Douleur Exquise by @cinnaminsvga

ON-GOING | fluff, angst, smut, fantasy | series

in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for.

INCUBUS au

Melody companion by @prisczero

fluff | one shot | 3.6K words

“A soulmate story where Yoongi can hear everything that you listen to, but only if it is music.’’

IDOL, SOULMATE au

Miss Dial by @versigny 

ON-GOING | 🍙, smut | series

[11:31] You: okay so i’m texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting yoongi and telling him how badly i want his cock tonight. Arent you proud?

[11:32] unknown number: this is yoongi, hi

FRAT au

Mixtape by @jungblue

🍙, smut, fluff, humor | one shot | 15.6K words

Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

COLLEGE, PODCAST PERSONALITY au

Next Door by @personasintro

smut, fluff | one shot | 10.3K words

Your neighbor doesn’t respect your complaints about him being loud, but you don’t let it slide so easily.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS, NEIGHBOURS au

petals by @yoonia

🍙, fluff | series

IDOL, PARENT au

see you soon by @cupofteaguk

fluff, angst | one shot | 7K words

In which you live in a world where one stroke of a pen against your skin is a signage of forever, and Min Yoongi just has really good timing 

SOULMATE au

She’s Testosterone by @jimlingss

🍙, crack, smut | series

Drop dead gorgeous, cute and sassy - you adore your best friend. But is there more beneath the surface? Who exactly is Min Yoonji?

YOONJI au

so i heard you like bad boys by @scriptaed​

fluff | one shot | 4.7K words

while others see min yoongi as the resident heartthrob of the school - quiet, resilient, and mysterious - you can’t see him as anything other than your dorky best friend since childhood; but what you don’t know is his long desire to be anything but that, even if it means becoming the bad boy in town… or at least try to.

COLLEGE, FRIENDS TO LOVERS au

stay high by @personasintro​

smut, angst | one shot | 16.5K words

You’ve to stay high to keep your ex out off your mind when he comes back into your life.

EXES au

Studio cuddle by @mintseesaw​

fluff | drabble | 1.8K words

Tired from work, you went straight to Genius Lab in the hopes of being able to cuddle with Yoongi. You did not hesitate to press the passcode of his studio, knowing he might get pissed off for interrupting him from his work.

IDOL, PRODUCER au

Sweeter than Sweet by @gimmesumsuga​

fluff, smut, angst | series

“You never would have expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you. As handsome and beguiling as he is deadly, you’re enthralled from the very moment you meet. Addicted to his kiss and his bite, Jimin opens up your eyes to a whole new world of love, lust and seduction.”

VAMPIRE au

the blue coat and cerruti 1881 (a flash fire) by @yuhdongsaeng​

angst, fluff, smut | two shots

that’s the thing about flash fires. they’re intense outbursts of flames that reach their maximum heat quickly and don’t last a long time. hell, they don’t even get to fade before they cease to exist. however, flash fires may be intense and short, but the floor beneath them is ruined forever.

IDOL au

The Truth Between Us by @jimlingss & @gukyi

🍙🍙🍙, fluff, angst, fantasy | series

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS and loads more aus— just stop what you’re doing and read this masterpiece!

want a taste by @suga-kookiemonster​

smut, humor | one shot | 18.3K words

pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. of course, you’re reasonably skeptical of his claims—but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong.

—part of the you never shop alone collaboration

FRIENDS TO LOVERS, SHOPPING MALL au

what you did last summer by @winetae​

smut | one shot | 33.8K words

Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

↳ alternatively titled; How to Get Dick - an autobiography written by (you)

TROPHY WIFE au

back to navigation.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Chan: Homewrecker (Part Six)

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, it’s basically all angst i’m sorry lmao

Word count: 1,741

Summary: Chan caught your attention as soon as your eyes met across the market. Something about him drew you to him, and you knew you were meant to be. However, you were already taken and arranged to be married on your next birthday, so you could never be together.

a/n: things in bold are in english

Previous | Next | Homewrecker Masterlist

Rin frowned as she stared at her alpha. He was just reading a book at the kitchen table while she stood at the counter and just watched him, the frown not necessarily intentional, but it appeared because of her thoughts.

“Do you want something or are you going to continue to stare at me until you burn a hole in my head?” Jiung wondered, not looking up from his book.

She was well aware the older wolf knew she was there and had been watching him silently, she just wasn’t sure what to say to him. Whenever she tried to bring up what was bothering her, he just brushed it off and said everything would be fine. Rin absolutely loved Jiung, but she didn’t like how positive he always was. It was going to get him in trouble one day.

“I still feel like Eunjin’s getting closer to us whenever she screams,” Rin stated for at least the tenth time since meeting with Seungcheol’s pack. It had only been two days since then, but both nights, the pack had woken up to Eunjin screaming in the distance -- and Rin was sure it was getting louder each time. “I don’t like this feeling I’m getting, Ji.”

“Her screams were never an issue to you before, and now they are? She was in our house before, Corinne,” he reminded the younger girl with a chuckle, setting his book down on the table and turning his attention to her. “I’m telling you, everything will be okay. That probably has nothing to do with us.”

Rin grimaced at his use of her full name before making a face at him. But despite being playful with the alpha, she still felt immense worry that going into town with Seungcheol’s pack was a bad idea. She understood the pack’s promise to always help others in need, but she’d also heard the horror stories of how doing that had gone wrong for them. She was the newest member of the pack even though she wasn’t the youngest -- Jiung and Chanseong had found her on a trip to Australia  where she’d fled to from New Zealand -- so she didn’t have to go through the loss the pack had faced. But she’d heard they used to have so many more of them, and they’d all died from either trying to help other packs, or from very unfortunate accidents -- like Rika’s mate. And she feared that Jiung’s positive and helpful mindset was going to cause even more causalities, especially with them having to go into town to help. 

But, knowing Jiung would continue to wave away her concerns until she ultimately gave up again, Rin didn’t say another word about it.

-

Things were normal that morning in the house as Chan returned home. Only a few of the pack were awake -- he wasn’t sure why some of the pack woke at the crack of dawn, but at least it meant that there was usually breakfast for him when he got home --  but Soonyoung wasn’t in the kitchen waiting up for him like usual.

“He probably went into town again,” Junhui shrugged when Chan had asked about it. “He’s not in his room, so that’s my best bet.”

“Why’re you even awake, anyway?” the youngest wondered.

Jun sighed as he continued making his own breakfast, mumbling, “Stupid fucking birds...”

The pup opted to not comment on Junhui’s odd reoccurring nightmare and just ate his breakfast before going upstairs to sleep. He didn’t really sleep much when he was with you -- he might doze off a bit, but it wasn’t enough to make him feel rested -- so he often went up to his room after eating breakfast.

However, his slumber was cut short by an ear-piercing scream so loud that he only recalled one time when he heard it: when Eunjin had first seen Joshua. Chan immediately clamped his hands over his ears and let out a howl at the pain, curling into a ball under his blankets. It felt like it lasted forever, and even when it was over, it still rang painfully in his ears.

Feeling disoriented, Chan stumbled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He could hear the pack was absolutely silent, but he wasn’t sure why until he rounded the corner to the living room.

Eunjin had just passed through the doorway to the living room, frozen where she stood. The pack was all staring wide-eyed at her, but Chan was unable to see where she was looking since her back was to him. He walked forward and peered around her, following her gaze.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

Even though the whole pack was staring at her in horror, her eyes were locked with Hansol’s. The wolf seemed more surprised than afraid, staring back and blinking every so often without saying anything or moving a muscle. 

What broke the silence was Jooyeon whispering, “Is Hansol gonna die?”

The alpha blinked, broken from his horrified trance. The banshee was screaming in the face of one of his pack, and that struck fear straight through him. What was he supposed to do about that? What was he supposed to think?

He shook his head, softly replying, “I... I don’t know.”

-

Eunjin described it as ‘a bad feeling’. 

“I can’t tell what’s going to happen, I just get a feeling,” was all she was able to explain. But she clearly felt bad for shaking up the pack, quickly adding, “It might not be him dying! He might just...c-cause it...?”

That didn’t really make anybody feel better, but they felt bad for the poor girl. She couldn’t control it.

But with the date of your birthday quickly arriving, the pack was terrified of what was to come, and they had a feeling that Eunjin’s scream had to do with that. Ever since they made the plan with Jiung and his pack, Eunjin had been going out into the woods more and more often. As if the pack wasn’t stressed enough, now they had to worry about tracking down a banshee in the middle of the forest at night.

With only a few days left to work out the rest of the details of the plan, Jiung was going to go back to Seungcheol’s with Hanbin, Chanseong, and Rika while Kyung, Baekhan, and Jaesang went to scope out the town a little bit. Chan was growing more and more anxious as days went by, unable to think about anything else but you and getting you out of there. He knew it was dangerous and risky, but he was also excited that there was a chance of giving you a better life than what you had. It was scary, but it was a risk he knew he had to take.

However, as the countdown to the rescue mission grew shorter, Joshua seemed to grow more and more grumpy. He was even more irritable than normal, and more often than not, he wasn’t even at the house.

“I don’t know what’s up with him lately,” Jeonghan sighed, running his slender fingers through his hair. “He won’t talk to anyone, either.”

“I think I know what it might be,” Seungkwan offered, knowing Joshua wasn’t even around to hear them. “Well, Eunjin might.”

The pack was surprised. The girl who caused the most confusion that morning might have some answers for something else.

She just looked at him silently as the pack looked between the pair. But she seemed too nervous to speak up, so Seungkwan patted her hands he held in his and spoke for her.

“I think the voice she hears a lot is Lilly,” he admitted. Eunjin looked down at her lap, eyebrows furrowed. “She’s been telling me what it says, and she said it sounds female. She’s been saying things like ‘what if it’s like last time’ and, um... Love, what was the other thing?”

“‘He doesn’t want to leave me,’“ she recited, still staring at her lap.

“Right,” he nodded, “so I think he’s going to visit her grave everyday.”

“Why would he have to leave--?”

Soonyoung’s eyes opened as the realization hit him, cutting off Chan’s question, “Because we’ll have to move away.”

The pack fell silent, suddenly feeling heartache for their brother. Joshua was getting irritable because he was upset. All he had to be close to Lilly was the place they buried her which wasn’t too far from the house. But after all of this, they’d have to move farther away to the house Jiung had showed them. They’d be farther away from Lilly, and that made Josh upset.

“Let’s just cut him some slack for a while,” Jihoon spoke up.

Thankfully, a knock at the door broke the somber atmosphere. Jiung had arrived with his pack, so Seungcheol called for them to come in. The small group walked down the hallway and rounded the corner to the living room.

Eunjin looked up.

The next thing he knew, Chan was slapping his hands over his ears, doubling over from the pain. Had his eyes not been squeezed shut, he would’ve seen the rest of his pack -- including the mates -- and Jiung’s pack doing the same as Eunjin’s shriek made their ears feel like they were bleeding.

Once it was over, both packs slowly uncovered their ears and looked up at Eunjin. The banshee was standing up from her spot on the couch between Seungkwan and Seungcheol, staring with her lips parted and her blue eyes wide like she had with Hansol.

This time, she was staring at the other alpha.

-

At the edge of town, the small group finally composed themselves after hearing the awful scream. It was in the distance, but far too close for comfort. And it was in the direction of Seungcheol’s, which none of them liked one bit.

“What do you think that was?” Jaesang asked, looking to Kyung for answers.

Not wanting to worry the younger wolves, she just sighed and shook her head, “It’s fine, let’s go.”

‘Kyung, aren’t you worried?’ she heard the telepathic pup in her head, and knew Jaesang could hear him, too.

“No, Baek,” she promised, even though it was a lie.

Kyung walked into town with Baekhan and Jaesang flanking her, muttering to herself, “He better not be getting us into more trouble than we can handle, or I’ll kill him myself.”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 11 first part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Goodness)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Okay! This episode is a real slice of healthy family dynamics, not triggering in any way. [Uh if this is your first Restless Rewatch: that is sarcasm, dear readers]

Goodbye to You, Goodbye to Everything We Knew

Nie Huaisang asks why Meng Yao has to leave and Meng Yao says "I killed a guy without permission, so your brother fired me." 

Ha ha ha ha no he doesn't. But he does give Nie Huaisang a sweet, sad smile; he seems touched by NHS's distress. 

Meng Yao carefully removes Nie Huaisang's hands from his shoulders and bows to him, wordlessly signaling the change in their relationship from intimate friends to formal strangers, while Nie Huaisang looks crushed. 

They will return to intimate friendship in the future, but falsely. Meng Yao believes that truly loving a person can include destroying their family and using them as an instrument in your murder plots as long as you don't directly harm them.  Nie Huaisang eventually learns to use people just as brutally, but he doesn't lie to himself about what he's doing. This farewell may be the last harmless moment between these friends. 

Jiang Cheng is distressed by what's going on, while Wei Wuxian crosses his arms and watches, fully in Sherlock Holmes mode, instead of his more usual concerned-for-my-friend mode. This may signal mistrust of Meng Yao, who refused his initial attempt at friendship, and not in a sexy, slice-your-face-off way.  Or it may mean that he's reserving judgement on a complicated family situation. He maintains his uncharacteristic reserve through the entire encounter. 

(more behind the cut!)

Nie Huaisang runs in and asks his brother WTF happened. Nie Mingjue says "he killed my subordinate without permission, when he knows perfectly well power must flow from the ruler; it's like he didn't even read that Foucault book I gave him."

Ha ha ha actually he just yells at his brother, as if NHS doesn’t have his own relationship with Meng Yao after being wonder twink powers with him for probably a couple of years now. NHS has to sit and process his loss and confusion in silence.

As a younger sibling who would make friends with my older siblings' girlfriends and then lose those friends if they broke up, for reasons having nothing to do with why I liked their girlfriends, I super feel Nie Huaisang's pain here.

OTOH, older siblings are entitled to have break ups and not explain themselves to anyone besides their lover because that's the nature of intimacy. The moral is, uhh...don't have a family curse that makes you unreasonably angry. 

Jiang Cheng steps up to advocate for Meng Yao, because Meng Yao is injured, and because Jiang Cheng is actually a born leader who knows better than to throw away a useful subordinate. For example, even when Wei Wuxian is at his drunkest and most defiant, Jiang Cheng tries to reform him, not kick him out, only drawing the line at having unpopular zombie friends.

Wei Wuxian continues to keep his mouth shut, waiting for Nie Mingjue to calm down, and speaking only about the tactical situation. He clearly knows there's more to this story but he's pretty good at keeping his head down in a family ruckus, and we're about to learn why.

Yunmeng Town

The Yunmeng bros go home to Lotus Pier, where they are greeted in town with bows, smiles, and free stuff.

We've mostly been seeing them in their roles within the cultivation community, where Jiang Cheng is grumpy and anxious, and Wei Wuxian is sassy and iconoclastic. Here among common people, they are both charming, friendly, and polite, like the imaginary good kind of gentry.

They hear the news from a local lotus seller that the small clans are coming to the Jiang Clan for shelter, but that otherwise everything's ok, which doesn't sound like everything is ok at all. He gives Wei Wuxian a giant bag of lotuses for his sister to make soup from.

Home to Lotus Pier

All the disciples practicing in the courtyard at Lotus Pier are excited to see them, and one girl goes running to tell Jiang Yanli. Thanks to the admittedly beautiful design of Lotus Pier, she is running for a long time.

A long, long time. Getting around on all these insane walkways must be a real drag if you're not the flying sort of cultivator.

Discipline and Punish

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian immediately go and kneel while they wait for their official punishment. Jiang Cheng is kinda worried about the punishment and Wei Wuxian is like, I'm good at being punished, just let me do it. 

Much later, and for a really long fucking time

He also tries to get Jiang Cheng to stop being mad, even giving him skritches while he says they should be brothers after they die.

Which they will, as it happens, although Jiang Cheng after the Wen torture is only mostly golden-core dead, while WWX dies for real.

When Jiang Fengmian shows up Jiang Cheng starts to explain that they were with Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian hushes him; he is still keeping the secret of the Yin Iron. Although he's keeping it in exactly the manner that a teenager keeps their weed stash secret: immediately tell literally every teen friend about it, but keep it extra secret from everybody's parents. 

Happy Families Are All Alike

Now we get to meet Yu Ziyuan, who is generally styled Madame Yu but who I'm going to call by her name just as if she was a male character. More on that concept in a minute. She rolls up looking, smelling, feeling like a million yuan, with her two murder bitches in tow.

Her marriage is an unhappy one, and her husband does his best to avoid her and avoid conflict, lying to the kids that she's tired and then sending her away later with the same line about being tired, which is a particularly gendered kind of gaslighting. She is obviously not tired, other than being tired of Jiang Fengmian's shit.

I'm not going to say she's the worst mother ever, because parenthood in a feudal society entails a wide range of skills, many of which she has in abundance. She starts off with a relatively tender greeting to Jiang Cheng, tuning up his always-amazing sartorial style, which is exactly like her own. They are all ready for the mommy & me fashion show.

That said, she dishes out hellacious verbal abuse to everyone in her family. She targets each one in turn, making Wei Wuxian the focus of most of her ire, but without ever directly speaking to him. He is not, in her view, part of her family. 

The Stages of Family Dinner

1. Try to fix it and defuse the situation

2. Yeah no

3. Just keep your head down and be glad it’s not your turn in the hot seat

This family meal hammers home how much Wei Wuxian is not, actually, part of the family. Jiang Fengmian adopted him into the clan, and told A-Cheng and A-Yi to treat him as a sibling, but he didn't give him the Jiang name, and he didn't get his wife's approval. He also doesn’t expect him to dress like any other clan member, apparently. 

Compare this to how Lan Wangji, actual good parent, fully integrates his own adopted son into his clan and family, starting with giving him the Lan surname.  

The hits just keep coming as she goes after Jiang Cheng for being less gifted than Wei Wuxian, Yanli for performing labor for Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Fengmian for possibly begetting Wei Wuxian.

On first watching this scene I took her question "Is this how you raise someone else's son?" to mean that she thought Jiang Fengmian was being too nice to a kid who was actually an outsider, taking resources away from the real kids. But on rewatching, it's pretty clear that she's saying his favoring Wei Wuxian is evidence that Wei Wuxian is NOT someone else's son; that he's Jiang Fengmian's bastard. 

Jiang Fengmian doesn't say a thing to this, or to her mentioning WWX’s mother. This shit is why WWX is running around in the world desperate for any crumb of info he can get about his Mom; he hears about her all the goddamn time at home, but only as insults to her character.  

A Bitch is Not Wrong

Here's the thing, though; a lot of what Yu Ziyuan says is correct. 

Jiang Fengmian should be a lot more concerned about the danger to the children, and should not leave it up to the kids to decide who's going to bear that danger.

Yanli does a lot of food=love, which is ok in the right doses, but causes her to pretty extremely lose face during the whole "soup for Jin Zixuan" debacle. And her doting on Wei Wuxian is...kinda excessive. I mean, yeah, she’s more like a mom than a sister to him, but still. Running out onto an active battlefield to look for him, frex, will be a skosh too much. 

I have a dictionary too, mom

Jiang Cheng, as the future clan leader, shouldn't let his attachments affect his decision making, and should let Wei Wuxian, who's the superior cultivator, fend for himself more often. We love Jiang Cheng for those moments where he puts himself in harm's way to protect his loved ones, but it's not a good strategy. He constantly yells at Wei Wuxian for the exact same thing he does all the time himself; he just limits who he does it for.

After she roasts the shit out of everyone for these failings, she leaves, and everyone sits around being miserable and not talking about what just happened. 

Not to be gender studies-y on main but: the awful things she says to her children are really not very different from the things that Jiang Cheng says to Jin Ling, although her targeting is more adept. JC also says a lot of mean things to WWX when he’s angry. When a man says cruel or insulting things, it's often presented as real love hidden under a rough exterior. When a woman does it, she's a monster.

If you enjoy this sort of interaction you should definitely have a look at Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and the plays of Eugene O'Neill.

Road Runner

Oh thank god, moving on

Lan Wangji is headed back to Cloud Recesses, and gets ambushed by the roadside with the most ridiculous trap this side of Wile E. Coyote.

Wen Chao thinks the "rug over a hole" trap is a good idea for someone who can literally fly.

Lan Wangji doesn't faff about with sword riding, he just fucking goes up in the air and stays there until he is good goddamn ready to come down. A hole in the sidewalk is really not going to be a problem for him. 

Wen Zhuliu does get in one kick before Lan Wanji yeets backwards away from him, in a moment that's scarier on rewatching, now that I know what Wen Zhuliu is capable of.

Wen Chao talks some smack to Lan Wangji, hilariously complaining about "your patronizing tone" to a man who has literally never spoken a word to him, IIRC, and certainly isn't speaking now. Maybe it's a mistranslation and should be "attitude," or maybe Wen Chao is just that dumb.

Apparently Wei Wuxian made a stack of talismans for Lan Wangji to take on the road with him. This talisman is a twin to the one Lan Wangji brings out way, way later in Yunping, when Wei Wuxian says "you even have kept it until now." Missing scene alert! What else did he make for him?

In Yunping this talisman is used to distract some random harmless street bullies. Here it is used against a seven-man murder squad.

This works.

Assault on Cloud Recesses

Forgettable disciple #1, Su She, comes rushing in to tell Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen that Cloud Recesses is under attack.

I'm pretty sure these dudes already know it, because they are meditating extra hard with a buttload of incense, and Lan Qiren is about to cough up some blood. So I think they're trying to hold the ward, rather than just, like, chilling while their disciples get stabbed.

Cloud Recesses is super on fire, you guys; it's going to totally burn to the ground; look at that conflagration, oh the humanity, etc.

Lan Qiren Rises to the Occasion

Ok, I like to rag on Failmaster Qiren and he is definitely an authoritarian dick a whole lot of the time, but in this scene he is fucking amazing.

He starts off worrying about Lan Wangji, not just out of affection but out of strategic planning, probably in equal parts. All three of these Lans take their clan responsibilities extremely seriously.

Then he calmly assesses the situation while imperturbable Lan Xichen freaks the fuck out. 

Lan Xichen is right to be alarmed, because he knows his uncle, he knows one of them is likely to die, and he knows that Lan Qiren will choose to take the hit.

I love, love, love Lan Qiren's physicality here; how centered and assured he is, as he holds his nephew steady and explains what is required of both of them.

Lan Xichen knows Lan Qiren is right. He is utterly fucking devastated, and all he can do to show his love...

...is to obey. 

This whole scene just. kills me.

Su She and forgettable disciple #2 are in the room for this whole conversation, and they join Lan Xichen in this deep bow. Note: I will be reminding everyone of this fact in Part 2.

Whew. This episode is a LOT. Part 2 Coming Soon!

Writing Prompt: What other goodies did Wei Wuxian put in Lan Wangji's care package before Lan Wangji hit the road without saying goodbye?

Soundtrack: 1. Michelle Branch, Goodbye to You 2. Ludacris, Stand Up

[liaromancewriter]

OC/MC ask game: 5, 12 and 20 for the 4 of them please !

Thanks for the ask! From this list.

5. Favorite season and why?

Cassie: Fall because it’s sweater and boots weather, and she looks fabulous in both. Plus, she loves the sound of crunching fallen leaves on her way home.

Max: Winter. He loves snow, making snow people and getting into snowball fights, and is almost childish in his regard for it. Plus, cold weather is always a good excuse to cuddle up.

Sienna: She loved winter when she was growing up in New Orleans as it meant cooler weather. But after moving to the east coast for college/med school/residency, she fell in love with Spring and that feeling of renewal that comes with it.

Ethan: Dr. Grumpy will say he doesn’t have a particular preference for any season. But Cassie knows that he secretly loves summer because he likes spending his free time outdoors.

12. What kind of music do they listen to?

Cassie: She has very eclectic tastes, everything from pop, Top 40 to rock and alternative. It’s all about the mood and vibe she’s going for. She’s okay with Blues but can’t stand jazz, much to her twin’s chagrin.

Max: Blues and jazz are top of his list, but he also listens to rock and alternative on occasion. He loves making fun of Cassie and Sienna’s love of bubblegum pop. They ignore him every time.

Sienna: She shares Max’s love for blues and jazz; they often spend an evening at the blues club in their neighborhood. Other than that, she enjoys cheery pop tunes – something to dance to.

Ethan: Opera and classical symphonies for sure. But Cassie knows his secret. He was into post-grunge and classic rock in his teens and all through college and med school. The man has a Greenday concert tee shirt!

20. Stupidest thing they’ve done while drunk?

Cassie: Have you met Drunk Cassie? She’s extremely flirty when she goes past her limit. But the stupidest incident to date is when she punched someone in a bar in Amsterdam and got kicked out along with Max. She was grateful the whole thing went unnoticed in the press, but her hand hurt for days.

Sienna: She doesn’t get drunk often and here’s why. When she was in college (before Wayne) she was out on the town with her friends, bar crawling. She was so out of it that she started walking sideways while bent over and has no idea how she got home. After that, she kept her alcohol intake to a minimum and has only gone past it when she’s with Max.

Max: This twin doesn’t get drunk enough to do anything stupid. He has a strict two-drink limit policy and can hold his liquor well. So, no stories to tell.

Ethan: When he and Tobias were in med school, they made a bet and he lost. Ethan was so drunk that he agreed to get a tattoo of a stethoscope. Thankfully, Tobias was sober enough, just, to have the tattoo artist use temporary ink.

Character Asks: @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @rookiemartin @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @dorisz @lucy-268 @a-crepusculo @queencarb @crazy-loca-blog @ofmischiefandmedicine 

[thetravelerwrites]

Rupert and Sanoh (Lemon)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Kobold/Male Human, Female Half-Elf/Male Tielfling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Tiefling, Elf, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, Kobold, Half-Elf Content Warning: Sex, Rough Sex, Biting, Marking, Group Sex, Dom/Sub, Breath Play Words: 3349

A story with DuMont’s friends, Rupert and Sanoh! Rupert and Sanoh are having sexy fun in a bath when Kharis and DuMont enter the room. Not willing to stop, they try to be stealthy. It doesn't work. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

“Why do wererats always have to live in sewers?” Kharis grumped. “Every time we get contracted to kill rodents of any kind, I just know we’re going to have to go somewhere gross.”

Kharis, DuMont, Rupert, Sanoh, and Norman all pulled themselves out of the sewers of one of the larger towns west of the capitol. People had been going missing, and the mayor of the town realized that the rats in town were multiplying at an incredible rate, even with preventative measures. It was a clear indication that wererats were responsible.

“It wasn’t all that bad,” Sanoh said. “The humidity down there was good for my scales. They’re so itchy.”

“It may have been good for your scales, but it definitely wasn’t good for your clothes,” Kharis remarked. “That stink isn’t coming out. You might as well burn that shit.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sanoh said with a sigh. Her dancer’s outfit, which she always wore regardless of the situation, was torn and it’s bright red hue was now dark brown. “I really liked this one, too.”

Rupert seemed even more miserable that Kharis. “Can we please find a bathhouse? I haven’t been this filthy in years.”

“You’re one to talk, look at poor DuMont!” Kharis said, pointing at her giant lover. DuMont, the mountain of a tiefling that he was, was splattered head to toe in muck and grime and rat guts. His large church-bell bludgeon that he had slung over his shoulder was absolutely caked in blood and gore. “He’s not even complaining!”

“That’s because he doesn’t know how to complain,” Sanoh said. “He takes the phrase ‘roll with the punches’ far too literally.”

“Is that wrong?” DuMont asked, his cavernously deep voice echoing through the city streets, causing many who weren’t already staring at the group to spin in surprise.

“Of course not, love,” Kharis said, patting his arm as he walked on all fours. “I much prefer silent temperance to someone who does nothing but complain.” She looked pointedly at Rupert.

“Norman complains more than I do!” Rupert retorted.

“I haven’t said a word!” Norman protested. “Don’t pick on me because you’re a whiner.”

“Oh, my god, everyone shut up!” Sanoh said, rubbing her forehead. “There’s a bathhouse one block over, so will you all just please stop bitching.”

“I’m not bitching,” DuMont said in an undertone. “But I am hungry.”

“I’ll order you a rack of lamb and a sack of potatoes when we get to the inn, hon,” Kharis said. “Get cleaned up first. You don’t want to eat when you’re that dirty or you’ll get sick.”

“I’ve never been sick.” DuMont countered.

“Even still, you should be clean…er. And I don’t want you to drop pieces of food in the bath, either. It’ll feel like we’re all sitting in a stew.”

“You weirdos can sit in the stew, I’m getting a private bath,” Norman said.

“Why do you do that?” Rupert asked. “You always get your own instead of bathing with us, even though private baths are so much more expensive. It’s no wonder why you never have any money.”

“I’m not trying to get head by a paid companion in front of you lot,” He said sniffily.

“Suit yourself, but I bet that’d be fun to watch,” Kharis said playfully.

Norman snorted. “You would think that, you pervert.”

“You’ve become so shy since we started traveling, Norman,” Kharis said. “You used to be a nice, relatable pervert, just like the rest of us.”

“Maybe being with you people has made me see the error in my ways,” Norman remarked.

“Pssh, there isn’t anything wrong with being a pervert. Besides, I think DuMont balances me out. He can be such a prude sometimes.”

“I imagine being raised by a priest in a church will have that effect on a person,” Sanoh said.

“You are a pervert, Kharis,” DuMont said, as if in agreement with Norman.

“Does me being a pervert bother you?” Kharis asked him, grinning.

He looked at her and cocked his head as he walked, considering her, looking like a massively oversized dog, as he always did when thinking.

“No,” He said eventually.

“See? He likes it.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” He said. His face wasn’t built to smile, but Rupert thought he could hear laughter in his voice, and Rupert grinned.

“We would be the ones to pick brazen, sex-crazed women, wouldn’t be, big guy?” Rupert said, smacking DuMont’s broad shoulder in solidarity.

DuMont grunted in a way that could have been mistaken for a chuckle.

DuMont had been very taciturn since they had met him nearly a year ago, but his personality was slowly beginning to emerge as the five of them spent more time together on the road, doing jobs. Rupert was glad he finally felt comfortable enough with the group to try joking with them.

The bathhouse came into view shortly afterward. It catered to adventuring sorts, so it wasn’t necessarily a high-end place, and the five of them tended to frequent it often. The staff there barely batted an eye at DuMont anymore. The laundresses despised the sight of them, however, since they always arrived splattered with all manner of filth, much of which was hard to wash out.

“Hey, can we get the big tub, please?” Sanoh called out as soon as they entered the place. “We’ll pay extra to reserve the whole thing, though I doubt many people will want to come in after us.”

The woman at the front desk curled up her lip at them as they entered, but said, “Yes, of course. You’re usual packages?”

“Yes,” Norman said. “Private room for me, please. Do you have any companions available?”

“Derek is available.”

“Ugh, no, not him. What about Vincent?”

“Vincent is away visiting family. Connor?”

Norman nodded. “Connor will do. Just make sure he brings the right massage oils this time.”

“That costs extra,” The woman reminded him.

“I’m aware,” Normal said, starting toward the private baths.

“I’m beginning to think Norman is too fancy for us,” Sanoh said. “We can’t afford him.” She walked up to the counter. “Do you have any scale oil?”

“We don’t have any specifically for scales, but there are plenty for skin and hair.”

“Hmm…” Sanoh said. “Give me the hair oil, then. It tends to be thicker. What scents have you got?”

Kharis snorted. “Come on, let’s get these clothes off before they stick to us. She may be at this for a while.”

Dumont and Rupert followed her to one of the larger public baths, one with a door, and closed it behind them. Now that they had been together for a long time, they were less shy about bathing together as they had been. Even DuMont had stopped blushing when he saw them all nude in the same bath.

“Kharis, I’m hungry,” DuMont said insistently. The only time DuMont ever seemed to get grumpy was when he needed a meal.

“Let me at least scrub you down once and we’ll go get some food,” She told him, pushing him into the bath still wearing his loincloth. The robes and towels weren’t nearly large enough to cover him, so they just had taken to washing him in the bath, clothes and all. They usually did him first, drained the bath, and refilled it for the rest of them.

Once Rupert helped Kharis give DuMont a once over, getting him clean enough to go into the tavern, they left to get something to eat and Rupert and Sanoh waited for the tub to be refilled. When that was done, the fresh water was nice and hot, and Sanoh arrived with her purchased oils. They both stripped down and got in with a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, gods, this is nice,” Sanoh said.

“Mmm,” Rupert agreed. “I think this is the first time in a month that my shoulders have relaxed.”

“My scales were starting to get so brittle. Will you get my scale brush and scrub the oils into my back? I can feel them flaking.”

“Sure, just a second,” He said, getting out with a splash and grabbing her back. She had a special boars-hair brush she used to clean and sharpen her scales and horns. Her favorite thing in the world was laying out and letting him groom her tiny body all over. It often got her in a frisky mood.

Sure enough, after only scrubbing her back for fifteen minutes, she started to wiggle in his lap, rutting her hips backward into him. He began to harden immediately. Sanoh seemed to revel in getting him aroused in dangerously public places, but it always caused Rupert anxiety.

“What are you doing?” Rupert said. “Kharis and DuMont will be back any minute.”

“Then let’s be quick,” She said, looking back at him over her shoulder.

She lifted up in the water and slowly sank her swollen lips down onto him. He gripped her hips and groaned, his head falling back, trying to keep his voice down. There really was no arguing when she was in a mood like this. He began to thrust up into her, sloshing the water around them.

She laughed breathlessly. “Good boy.” She thrust back into him as he moved inside her. Before long, he picked her up and lay her over the side of the bath, slamming himself into her hard enough to make her thighs ripple. She began to moan loudly.

“Shh!” He hissed. “You’re going to get us thrown out.”

“But it feels so good,” She whimpered. “Norman has sex in the baths all the time, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t make me gag you,” He said, panting.

“You can try,” She said, laughing, before crying out against the tile. He put his hand over her mouth, but she bit him. He let go, inspecting his hand, and when he found she hadn’t broken the skin, he instead grabbed her throat, squeezing.

“Oh, fuck,” She wheezed, her eyes going glassy. As bossy as she was, she loved it when he was rough and took charge.

“Shut up!” He snarled in her ear. “You started it. Be quiet and take it.”

“I will,” She simpered, and he squeezed harder.

“I said, shut up!” He slammed hard into her, and she squeaked against his grip on her neck, her body trembling in excitement. She came suddenly, gushing down her legs, but he didn’t relent, crushing his body against hers, breathing down her neck and spine, moving at a frenzied pace.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” He said through his gritted teeth. “Stand still, don’t fucking move.”

Before he got the chance, however, he heard the far door open and Kharis’s voice drift through.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, pulling out suddenly and ducking under the water to hide himself. His cock was throbbing with the unfulfilled promise of climax, but there was little he could do about it now. He was just going to have to sit there and suffer in silence.

Until Sanoh sat back down onto him, spearing him inside her, her inner walls still quivering from the orgasm.

“Now what are you doing?!” He asked frantically.

“Just act natural,” She replied in an undertone.

“They’re going to know!”

“Not if you don’t make a big deal about it! Lay your head back and pretend you’re sleeping!

“Sanoh!”

“Just do it!”

Rupert lay his head back against the tile on the edge of the bath with Sanoh in his lap just as Kharis and DuMont re-entered the bathing area, stripping down to join them.

“Well, DuMont cleaned out the tavern, so if you want food, you’re going to have to find a vendor somewhere,” Kharis said.

“Not surprising,” Sanoh said, stealthily riding Rupert’s cock under the water, pretending to be washing her arms to cover the movement.

“What’s with him?” Kharis asked, nodding at Rupert.

“He conked out almost immediately after you left. I’m just keeping his lap warm,” She said smoothly.

Kharis snorted and said, “I wish I could fall asleep as easily as he can. DuMont’s like that too,” She reclined on the large red tiefling. “He can fall asleep mid-sentence.”

“A gift and a curse,” Sanoh said in agreement. She squeezed Rupert’s length with her inner muscles, and it took all his effort not to grunt or move. He dug his fingers into the skin of her hips as a warning. Sanoh snorted. She moved under the pretense of adjusting herself and nearly made Rupert jump out of his skin with how deep she’d push him into her. He couldn’t help but make a small sound.

Kharis noticed. “What are you doing?” She asked Sanoh, her eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about?” Sanoh asked innocently.

Kharis gave Sanoh a sardonic look. “You don’t have to pretend to be asleep anymore, Rupert, I know what’s going on. I’m a pervert, after all.”

Rupert sighed and lifted his head. “The jig is up, I guess. Sanoh, hop off.”

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” Kharis said. “Far be it from me to interrupt your fun.”

“What about DuMont?” Rupert asked skeptically.

“What about him?” Kharis replied, reaching over in the water and placing her hand in DuMont’s lap.

“Wha…” DuMont said, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Having fun,” Kharis said. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“But…” He looked at Sanoh and Rupert.

“They’re already having fun,” Kharis said. “They started before us.”

“They are?” DuMont asked in surprise, squinting at the pair.

As if to answer, Sanoh let Rupert’s organ fall out of her and spun in Rupert’s lap. Now that she didn’t have to worry about stealthing, she rocked on him and moaned.

“Oh,” DuMont replied, and then sucked in his breath when Kharis squeezed him.

“Are you okay with this, buddy?” Rupert asked over Sanoh’s shoulder, though he was beginning to lose speech. “We’ll stop if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sanoh said with a snort.

“We’ll stop if you aren’t comfortable, DuMont,” Rupert repeated, giving Sanoh a warning look. Sanoh rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” DuMont replied, playing with Kharis’s hair and she fondled him under the water.

“See? He’s fine, don’t be such a baby,” Sanoh said, pushing him into her deeper. He grunted and stopped speaking.

Kharis held her breath and ducked her head under water, and DuMont tensed and groaned, his hands balling into fists on the side of the tub. From then on, there was little talk, just moans, grunts, groans, and breathy whimpering.

Kharis came up and went to the edge of the bath, bending over and presenting her rear. DuMont followed her and knelt down, pressing his cock into her and thrusting in hard, pushing her forward and down onto the tile. She laughed breathlessly.

“That looks like fun,” Sanoh said, going over to bend over next to Kharis, wiggling her butt at Rupert and moving her tail out of the way, so he could see her dripping between her legs. Rupert followed DuMont and rammed back into her, thrusting fast and hard.

“Wanna see something really fun?” Sanoh said to Kharis. Kharis nodded, and Sanoh leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.

The reaction was instantaneous. Rupert grabbed Sanoh by the throat again and pulled her up against his body.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, his voice hard and angry. He sped up, fucking her roughly as he held her in place. “You belong to me. Don’t you dare do that again without my permission.”

Sanoh’s face went slack and she nodded, whimpering, completely at his mercy.

DuMont’s reaction was also immediate. He grabbed Kharis up and vaulted out of the bath, throwing her to the floor. He pinned down her arms and legs and put his face inches from hers. He didn’t say anything, but a low, guttural snarl issued from his throat, his brows furrowed as he stared at her with the intensity of a predator looking at prey.

“What’s the matter, big guy?” She said with a grin. “Are you jealous?”

“Mine,” He growled lowly, almost indistinguishable from the threatening, thunderous rumble of his voice.

“Prove it,” She challenged.

He opened his mouth and sank his front canine teeth into her shoulder, drawing blood. He thrust himself back into her without letting go, his jaws locked, and he lifted her off the ground and just railed her.

There was no hope of keeping their voices down now. If they got kicked out, they got kicked out. Sanoh and Kharis screamed, shouted, howled, and swore in pleasure as their lovers used their bodies to climax.

At some point, there was a knock on the door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Go away!” Sanoh and Kharis shouted in unison.

Kharis and Sanoh came several times before the boys were done with them. While Kharis had as much stamina as DuMont did and was just as active, at some point Sanoh’s legs gave out and she simply lay there on the floor in a perpetual orgasm trance as Rupert pumped her full of his warmth and kept going like a machine, finally collapsing on top of her, breathing as if he’d run five miles in a minute.

DuMont was the last to reach his peak, gushing into Kharis, his seed pooching her stomach and dripping out of her, down his legs, and splattering onto the floor. For a solid minute, the room was quiet, safe for a lot of heavy breathing.

Finally, as they all caught their breath, the re-entered the bath to wash each other.

“Kharis, you’re bleeding,” Sanoh said, pointing. There was a very large bite in her shoulder, and it was rather deep.

“Oh,” DuMont said, flustered by worry. “I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, big guy,” She reassured him. “I wanted you to do it. It’s proof.”

“Proof?” He echoed, his brow furrowed.

“That I belong to you,” She said simply. “Help me wash it.”

As rough as DuMont had been, his gentleness in tending the wound was a mirror opposite. Rupert and Sanoh sat cuddled together and watched fondly as DuMont lovingly treated and bandaged Kharis’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, DuMont,” Rupert said. “Sanoh marked me, too.” He turned and showed DuMont a bite on his left shoulder blade. “And Sanoh’s bites can be venomous. I was sick for a week.”

“I said I was sorry,” She said reproachfully. “It was the heat of the moment, I couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He said, hugging her in close and kissing her forehead.

“Does it hurt?” DuMont asked Kharis.

“Not really,” She said. “I’m sure it will tomorrow when the sex high has worn off, but I feel great right now. And it’ll scar up nicely, I think.”

“I’m sorry!” DuMont said, hiding his face.

“Honey, it’s okay!” She said, pulling his hands down. “I like it! It lets everyone who sees it know that I’m yours. Don’t you want people to know that you and I are in love?”

“Well… yes…” He said, frowning.

“There, see? It’s all fine.” She went up and hugged his neck. “Don’t fuss so much. I’m fine.”

He pulled her back and fixed her with a glare. “No kissing other people.”

She grinned at him. “I won’t, I promise. It was just an experiment.” She winked at Sanoh, who stuck her tongue between her teeth as she smirked. “And I’d say it was successful.”

DuMont grumbled. “I didn’t like it.”

She patted his face and kissed his exposed jaw. “I won’t do it again.”

“Okay,” He said, seemingly satisfied, and he pulled her into an embrace, careful of her shoulder.

The wound healed up really quickly, and Kharis took to wearing asymmetrical shirts, so that she could show it off. Most assumed that it was a grievous injury from a wild beast, and Kharis would laugh and say that was partly right.

Sanoh and Rupert didn’t engage in sex around the two of them again, but it was definitely something they kept in the back of their mind. For a rainy day, maybe.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience!To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[poesparakeet-fics]

In The Mirror Over The Bar

Includes Vox Machina AND Mighty Nein

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Critical Role, Campaigns 1 and 2

Summary: In two bars on two continents, two found families share a mirrored moment. A snippet tickle-fic.

ONE

He was lucky that the tavern was loud. They’d made it into this little town for supplies and a bed, only to find their biggest party of the year in full swing. The bar was full, with farmers swinging their wives around and everyone stamping their feet. Scanlan had joined the band an hour ago, and was now serenading the bar’s comely dwarven owner as she giggled and blushed, having enjoyed quite a bit of her own stock.

Percy was sitting in a booth in the back, trying desperately to stay quiet. The rest of their group was facing away from him, watching Scanlan’s revelry, while the twins sandwiched him from either side. To anyone else, it might look like Vax has his arm slung over his brother-in-law’s shoulders, but if they looked closer they’d see his long fingers hooked under one arm while the other hand climbs Percy’s side from the inside of his coat. Percy’s eyes were already misty, his laughter constant but just quiet enough not to be heard above the din of the party. 

And Vex, his beautiful, darling, traitor wife, her face was leaning in close to his where he was inches from collapsing onto the tabletop, a smile that was more a baring of teeth aimed right at him. Her hands were under the table, each grasping a knee and not moving a muscle. Not that his legs weren’t already jelly.

Gods, not the knees was what he wanted to plead to her, but he was well past words.

“Darling, look at me.” 

He tried, but Vax’s hand found a spot on his ribcage that made him shriek into his hand and shut his eyes tight, torso arching back against his brother-in-law’s.

Vex moved only her index fingers, each scratching exactly twice in place on the tops of his knees.

“Noohohoo!” He cried.

He lurched forward until he’d nearly passed from Vax’s arms to hers. Thankfully he could still barely hear himself, though if that changed there wasn’t a whole lot he’d be able to do about it.

“Say it and I won’t, darling! This could be so easy. Why are you making it hard on yourself?”

“Please!” Percy wheezed. 

“What was that?” Vax mocked from behind him. “That didn’t sound like ‘I will never hide a workshop injury again on pain of tickling.’ Am I wrong?”

“No,” Vex agreed with a sigh, “It doesn’t, I’m afraid.”

That’s when she started to squeeze Percy’s knees, turning him immediately into a thrashing, shrieking mess. Tears ran down his cheeks and his body tried to jackknife on instinct, only to be blocked by a solid wood table and two lithe bodies.

“Please!” He manages to get out, but just barely. “Pleaheeheeheese! I cahahahan’t!”

His laughter was turning silent, he was running out of air for it.

“If I stop, will you promise?”

He can only nod weakly. Both sets of hands still, but don’t move from their position, the threat imminent.

“Say it now,” Vax reminds him, “or we shant have any interest in what you have to say for a long while.”

“I… won’teverhideaninjuryagain… please.”

They both backed off, and he was left to slump with his head down on the smooth wood of their table to catch his breath. Vax planted a cheeky kiss on top of his head before disappearing to the dance floor with Keyleth. Vex, at least, had the good grace to sit with him while he recovered his breath.

He took a few extra seconds there to plot his revenge. Vex he’ll never get, she wasn’t very ticklish and was too capable of wrecking him with a twitch. Plus, nobody else in the group would be willing to help him cross her. Vax, on the other hand…

Well, after the party. He did his best work in the quiet.

TWO

Caleb remembered how they’d gotten to Trostenwald. He remembered how they’d found this rolicking tavern where, true to form, the locals were having a party the bordered on a riot. He was still unsure as to how he’d wound up bundled into a booth between two positively devilish tieflings.

He thought it had started with beer. He’s been showing off a little, an old trick from his school days of drowning a whole pint in one go, delighting Yasha and Beau. Was that when Molly sat down behind him? Either way, when the other women left to dance, Jester had returned from doing the same to sit at his other side.

The story of how he’d got there now clearer in his admittedly drunk brain, he came to the next problem: How to get out of this.

They both scooted closer, nearly squeezing him between them, excited glances and sharp smiles exchanged over his shoulders. He knew what was coming. Teiflings loved to tickle, especially beloved and grumpy wizards. But in public?

“Cay-leb,” Jester sing-songed in his ear.

It sent a shiver ricocheting down his spine. He briefly considered casting Misty Step, but Molly was getting very good at recognizing his somatics and he was pretty sure an escape attempt would burn any mercy they may have for him. He also considered making a run for it, either by jumping over the table or climbing under it. Going over would attract so much attention, though, and if they caught him he didn’t want an audience. Under would be too slow.

“I wouldn’t be ignoring her if I was you.” Molly purred in his other ear.

His hand reached for Caleb’s hip to slide subtly under his coat. The wizard’s body started to collapse to get away from him on that side, but Jester was soon doing the same. 

“No,” Caleb yelped, balanced between his tormentors, “I’m not ignoring! What is it, Jester?”

His voice was strangled, his torso quivering under the proximity of their fingers.

“Oh, nothing,” Jester answered, setting her fingers in motion, “I just wanted to know if you’re still ticklish!”

Caleb made a sound like he was dying, thankfully drowned out by the noise of the crowd. His torso started to rock from side to side when Molly clawed at his ribcage, his other hand squeezing Caleb’s upper thigh and making him nearly jump out of his seat. Instead he just bumped into the table and wailed.

“Nein!”

“Oh, you’re not ticklish?” Jester questioned, her lips pouting and her eyes curious, “But why are you laughing, Caleb? It sure seems like you’re still ticklish. Maybe we need to experiment some more, huh?

“Scheisse! Pleaheese not here!”

“Oh hush,” Molly soothed, as if his hands weren’t still taking Caleb apart under the table, “the party’s loud and we’re hidden back here, nothing to be embarrassed by. Besides, it’s a party. Have a laugh!”

With that he bought both hands up to Caleb’s rib cage and set about cracking him open. The move took Caleb down almost immediately, his upper body all but flopping across Molly’s lap as his eyes squeezed shut and his limbs stopped working.

“Oh no, Caleb! If only we could solve this mystery!” Jester teased, he hands moving to pinch his hips where his shirt had ridden up.

“Fine! I am! Bitte!”

“You are whaaaaat?” Jester asked him sweetly, fingers dancing up under his shirt to make him squeal.

“I’m ticklish!”

“Now say ‘I’m the most ticklish and squishy wizard in the world, and I might die--”

“Oh now,” Molly interrupts, “that’s just mean.”

Jester rolled her eyes and stopped tickling. Caleb lay halfway out of his seat, halfway in Molly’s lap, trying to catch his breath. He was going to be FAR more aware of where those tieflings were in the future.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 28

----------

By the time we got back to the Stilinski house, Nicholas was awake. Uncle Noah had been sitting with him at the kitchen table for breakfast when we walked in. When he saw us, Nicholas scrambled down from his chair and onto Uncle Noah’s lap, hiding his face in his shoulder. I looked back at Derek, seeing that he looked disappointed.

“It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.” I said softly. He nodded, smiling sadly. I walked over to the two, taking Nicholas upstairs into my room and sitting with him on the bed. 

 “Mommy,” Nicholas looked up at me with his large green eyes, “Why is the bad man here?” 

“Well, sweetie, he’s not a bad man. He just did a bad thing yesterday by scaring you. He came to apologize.” I wanted to give Derek the opportunity to explain himself. Hopefully in a way that Nicholas would understand. 

He still didn’t look convinced, hugging his little wolf plush tight. 

“Nico...” I kissed his forehead, “Mommy is going to be right there besides you the entire time. I promise you that he isn’t going to hurt anyone. He’s not going to hurt grandpa or Uncle Stiles or Uncle Scott.” I intentionally left Michael out. I wasn’t too convinced that he wouldn’t hurt Michael. “I have known him for a very, very long time. Longer than Uncle Stiles.” 

“Really?” He asked.

I nodded, “Really.” I paused, “He used to have a big, big family. But they all got taken away. So, he has a lot of anger built up and sometimes that comes out in bad ways, but he doesn’t mean to and he didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Who took his family?”

“A really bad lady.” I stood up, setting him down on his feet, “He apologized to me and he wants to apologize to you. Is that okay?” 

Nicholas blew air out through his nose and hummed as he thought about it. He hugged Puppy dog tight to his chest and looked up at me, “Okay, mommy.” 

“Thank you.” I held out my hand to him, “You ready?” 

He took my hand, “I can do it. I’m brave.” I grinned brightly at him, walking with him down the stairs and into the living room where we found Derek sitting on the couch.

DEREK

To say that Derek was nervous would be an understatement. He was a wreck. He had gone over in his head multiple times how he would talk to his son. A few of those situations involved him flying to Scotland and stealing both of them away from the Lunar Circle. Well, less them and more Michael. He hated that Michael was living with them, playing family when he knew that Derek couldn’t be there. 

After (Y/N) went upstairs with Nicholas, Scott and the Stilinski’s had gone outside to give them some privacy. Michael stood in the corner of the living room, arms crossed over his chest and staring him down. 

Derek sat on the couch, cracking his knuckles, bouncing his leg at an unmeasurable rate. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time, not because of the ass-hate in the corner of the room. If that little boy, his little boy, didn’t like him? Well, what was he going to do? His dream for (Y/N) and himself was to have a family, he had known this since he saw her again. 

2011

After finding Laura, he knew there was a new alpha in the area. His first thoughts went to revenge. New alphas were just as weak as a beta like him... or omega now. The deer that had brought both of them back to Beacon Hills had been found in the woods outside near the apartments at the edge of town. He had been waiting there since the early morning, hoping to find something. He had searched the woods and found nothing. Now, he was standing in the parking lot of the building, thinking over and over again about finding Laura. He should have come with her, she shouldn’t have come alone. He should have insisted. But she told him she would be fine. Nothing was fine.

The worst part of this situation was that he could still smell the smoke coming from the (Y/L/N) house. He had driven by on his way to the woods and it made his stomach lurch. Kate got what she wanted, all of the werewolves out of Beacon Hills. He hated (Y/D/N), he hated him from taking his best friend away. And because of Kate, he lost his whole world. He didn’t even get a chance to see (Y/N) again. He’d never see her again except for a picture in the obituary. 

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and leaned against the passenger door of the Camaro. 

“HELP! HELP ME!” He heard the shout coming from behind him, accompanied by two sets of hurried footsteps. He turned quickly and his heart almost stopped. He tried to keep expression neutral but his heart was beating rapidly. 

It was (Y/N). She was alive. Behind her was Michael, chasing her with a knife. 

“Help!” She shouted as she crashed into his body. She looked up at him with those beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes. There seemed to be a spark of recognition, but nothing like before. She still couldn’t remember. 

“Please help me.” (Y/N) gripped tightly onto the lapel of his jacket, “Please.” 

In that moment he had a vision of what the future could be. Both of them together. Smiling and laughing like they used to. Holding hands. Kissing. Starting a family. The last image was her smiling face, triskeles in her eyes. 

Derek didn’t know what his future with (Y/N) would look like, he wanted to be with her, he loved her too much. But at this moment, Nicholas was the only one he had on his mind. Today was going to be life changing. He was either going to be a father or his son could reject him.

Derek stood up quickly when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He hoped that he could somehow word what he needed to say in a way the four year old would understand. 

Then in walked the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Nicholas was walking hand in hand with (Y/N) into the living room. He looked... like Derek. His knees gave out, taking him to the floor to be at eye level with his son. 

“He’s so beautiful.” Derek whispered. (Y/N) grinned, stopping a few feet in front of him and coming around to kneel beside him. Derek could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He was... Perfect. From his dark hair to his nose and little toes.

“If you get nervous, just look at me.” (Y/N) said softly, “I’m right here.” Nicholas nodded and looked straight into Derek’s eyes, right into his soul.

(Y/N) put a hand on his shoulder, breaking him away from his trance. He sniffled and wiped his eyes quickly. 

“Introduce yourself.” She nudged him with her elbow. 

“Uh, yeah.” He smiled, “Hi Nicholas.” He swallowed thickly, “My name’s Derek. Derek Hale.” He held his hand out. 

His son glanced at his mother before reaching out and taking Derek’s outstretched hand and shaking it, “I’m Nicholas Hale.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Derek hesitantly pulled his hand away and motioned to the wolf plush in Nicholas’ hand. The little wolf plush that he had sent all the years ago, he still had it, “Ya know, I sent that to your mama to give you.” 

“You did?” His eyes widened. Derek had just now noticed that he had a little accent, probably from his upbringing across the pond.

“I did. What’s their name?” 

Nicholas held up the toy for Derek to look at, “His name is Puppy dog. He’s a Lunar Circle wolf with Lachlan and Mikey. He eats bad guys.” 

“Oh wow. Little tough guy, like you.” 

Nicholas looked down towards the floor, shifting on his feet, “He almost ate you last night.” 

“I...” Derek sighed, shaking his head at his behavior from yesterday, “You’re right. I was being a bad guy last night. I shouldn’t have been fighting your mama. It’s just that...” How was he going to explain this?

Thankfully, (Y/N) spoke up, “What he’s trying to say, sweetie, is that Derek wanted to see you so badly that no one could get in his way. And that got to his head too much.” She reached out, running her fingers through Derek’s hair. 

“Why?”

"Well, Nicholas, because... Because I'm your father." It was out. He looked a little confused honestly. 

“Derek and I are mates, like you learned about in daycare.” He nodded along to his mother’s words, “And we loved each other so much that we wanted to have the perfect little boy.” She poked his stomach causing him to giggle. 

“How come I never got to see you?” He asked, “All I had were mama’s pictures.” 

“That’s because I was here, taking care of all the bad monsters so that it would be safe for you to come home.” Derek glanced at Michael, “And whenever I tried to call, there was no connection.” 

“Oh...” Nicholas looked between, “What should I call you?” 

“You...” Derek cleared his throat, “You can call me anything you like.” 

Nicholas grinned, “Sour Wolf!” He giggled. Derek’s jaw tightened. From outside he heard Stiles laughing. He’ll get him later. He could hear (Y/N) snort, but keeping a straight face.

"Maybe a different name." Derek said, giving his son a soft smile.

"Uh..." He hugged the wolf tighter, "Daddy."

 "Yeah," His voice cracked, "That sounds good."

Nicholas smiled, strapping forward and wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, hugging him tight. He felt like the air had been taken from his lungs. He slowly wrapped his arms around the little boy, swaying back and forth. He glanced at (Y/N), seeing tears making paths down her cheeks to reach her smile.

Derek reached out, adding her into their first hug as a family. His family.

-

(Y/N)

For the most part, Nicholas took it very easily. It was a smooth transition for him. Probably because he's just a little kid. But the hardest thing for me to comprehend was what Derek was asking me at the moment. 

"So would that be okay?" He asked.

I shook my head, "Let me get this straight. You want to take Nicholas to meet Cora and Scott and whoever else is in the new pack who I certainly haven't met in person. Skyping is a poor sense of character."

"And Peter."

"And whom?" I asked as if I didn't know who his psycho uncle was. 

“I want him to meet him and Malia." 

"Why? Why would I want my-our," I corrected myself when he got the grumpy look on his face, "Our child to be exposed to the same man who tried to Jafar me."

His eyes narrowed, "What's a Jafar?" 

"Remind me to make you watch Disney movies with your child. Gonna have to get used to it. A lot of Disney movies out there, he’s seen almost all of them." I walked out of the laundry room where I had been folding laundry before I was interrupted by Derek asking me to take Nicholas on a day trip. Yesterday had been about father-son bonding, taking him to the park, getting ice cream, playing games. Today he wanted to introduce the whole family.

"And it's not like he doesn't know who they are.” I added, “He knows Uncle Scott and Aunt Cora and Aunt Malia and Uncle and Aunt whoever else." 

"Are you telling me that he's met his family before he met me?" He somehow managed to get in front of me. He's really pushing the boundaries and the alpha instincts were telling me to beat his ass. But I didn't, that was rude. 

"They answered the Skype calls, Derek. You weren’t able to." I walked into the kitchen and started making breakfast for Nicholas. He was probably still sleeping after staying up passed his bedtime with Derek. I would have usually been pissed but seeing them together was enough to make me melt. I got the eggs and bacon out of the fridge and watched him lean on the threshold of the kitchen and shove his hands in his pockets out of the corner of my eye.

“They never tried to defend me?" He asked. I put down food and walked over to him, cupping his scruffy cheek in my hand. 

“They did, Der-Bear. I just didn’t believe them." I patted his cheek and turned back to the food. He scoffed and walked up behind me, turning me quickly and picking me up and setting me down on the counter next to the stove.  

“Excuse you, sir.” I poked his nose, then, just like always, I got lost in his eyes. Derek always had this way about him that if he just looked at me, I would be memorized for who knows how long. And he knew it too. He was smiling softly, like all the years of heartache and pain were over and he was back to the boy I remembered. Kind, shy, soft. 

“Been a while since you called me Der-Bear." 

"Been a while since I was twelve, Der-Bear." He grinned, his eyes sparkling. He slowly slid his hand behind my neck and pulled my head forward for our forehead touched ever so slightly. 

"This brings me back..." I whispered softly, sliding my hands behind his neck and lacing my fingers in his hair. 

"Yeah, it does." He hummed and leaned forward. 

"Mommy. Daddy." We both jolted a part and looked for the little voice. We found it at about three and a half feet tall and wearing dinosaur footie pajamas." 

“Well hello, sleepy head." Derek bent down and took the boy into his arms, "Mama and I were making you breakfast."

He looked at us both skeptically, "It looks like-" 

"A really intense staring contest, sugar." I combed his hair out of his eyes, "And mama won."

Derek rolled his eyes, then he smirked, "Hey Nico, after breakfast, you wanna go see the Pack?" Nicholas gasped, his eyes sparkling. He had been intrigued by a pack since he was told what it was. He talked about how excited he was to run with his own pack someday, even if he hadn’t turned yet. 

“Yes! Can we go, Momma? Pwease!?" He laced his little hands together, begging. Derek knew I couldn't say no to him, not when it came to pwease. 

"Fine. But I'm going to." Nicholas raised his arms in the air and cheered.

"Thank you!" He grinned with his little baby teeth. 

"Yeah, thank you mama." Derek said, setting the boy down on his feet, "Now go wash your face and hands before breakfast." He said, utterly surprising me with how he just parented. I... I had imagined him with our kids before but... I don't know, it was weird seeing him this gentle. 

“I think I like parent Derek.” 

Derek smirked as he took the bacon and got a pan out from the cupboard, starting to cook the bacon. In that moment, I realized that seeing him like this did make me love him again, just as much as I loved him when I saw him alive on that hilltop all those years ago. Domestic father Derek was the Derek I never expected, but couldn’t live without. But this was just regular Derek. He wasn't afraid right now, he wasn't being hunted. He was just at home making breakfast for his family. He had a family and that's all he's ever wanted.

"You alright?" He asked, seeing that I was just staring at him with two eggs in my hands.

“Yeah, I just love you a lot.” 

Derek leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, “I love you.”

- 

"Breakfast!" Derek's loud booming voice called through the house. And down the stairs came Nicholas with his wolf toy in hand, Michael, Uncle Noah, and Stiles. Derek and I had set the table like a cute couple does and were starting to serve out food to the family. Then of course, everything had to be ruined. 

I sat down in a chair next to Nicholas, whose face was clean and so were his hands, with an empty chair next to me that Derek took. Michael looked like there should have been smoke coming out of his ears. 

"Hey, Derek, why don't you trade with me?" He said calmly from across the table. Uncle Noah just started eating his food, trying to ignore the tension as best as he could with eggs.

Derek, being Derek, grinned and took his silverware in both hands, "I'm alright."

"I really think you should move, Mutt." He spat the word. That's when I stepped in, I knew Derek was being a little shit right now, but there was no need for that kind of language, especially in front of a four year old. 

“There will be no use of that word at this table and if you would like to sleep here tonight, I suggest that you stop talking." The rest of breakfast went without incident, until Uncle Noah and Stiles had left the table. Uncle Noah headed off to work and Stiles went outside to avoid the situation.

"Why do you keep sticking up for him?" Michael asked. I sighed and looked at Nicholas, he was putting his last forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth. 

"Hey honey?” He looked up at me, chewing, “Why don't you ask Uncle Stiles to play soccer with you?" 

"What's soccer?" He tilted his head to the side.

"Football, honey.” Forgetting briefly that he had been raised in Europe, “The American football is like rugby, they call football soccer here." 

"Oh, okay, mama." He hopped down from his little chair and out the front door.

 Once he was gone, Michael spoke again, "You keep standing up for him and I won't have it. We've talked about this so many times, darlin. How am I supposed to just sit by with him nudging his way into our lives? Lives where we were perfectly fine without this mangy mutt and his family." He stood up and glared down at us both. Derek stood and was prepared to say anything and maybe do anything, but I stopped him by putting a hand on his forearm.

"Sit." I ordered. Derek sat. I took his place standing and inhaled, ready to give a harsh blow. 

"You can't control who I chose to side with. Frankly, I’m not choosing a side at all. You also can't control who my family is, because it's mine and mine alone. Derek is my mate and he is the father of my child and you need to learn how to respect that. Do not ever get so self righteous with me. We aren't together, Michael, we haven't been since high school and I refuse to be treated like some little housewife. I am not a housewife, I am an alpha werewolf and I will be treated with such respect." I refused to look in his eyes, instead looking at the bridge of his nose which had started to scrunch up in anger. 

“What about, Nicholas, huh? What about him? What's he gonna say when he sees his mother and this new person acting closer than us?" 

"He's a smart boy, he’ll understand. And if he doesn't then he can talk to me, his mother. Because it seems like the other mature adult in his life is having a temper tantrum over a girl." 

"You're not just some girl, (Y/N). You're min-"

"I belong to no one!" I barked, "I am no one's girl or wife or thing. I am my own person, I belong to me." I stood up and looked at Derek, "Come on, let's bring our son to meet his family." I grabbed Derek's hand and practically dragged him outside. Stiles was in the front yard, passing a soccer ball to Nicholas.

“Nico, honey, let's go." Nicholas, whose little cheeks were so red from running around in the cold weather, nodded and grinned. 

“Crap, I forgot," I whispered, remembering that I forgot his coat inside, not really wanting to go back in to get it.

"Don't worry, dad's got it." Derek walked past me with Puppy dog and jacket in hand. Nicholas ran up to him and held his arms out as Derek helped him put on his jacket, he insisted that he do the zipper by himself. 

"Is Mikey comin'?" He asked, looking back at me, hugging Puppy dog tightly to his chest. 

"No, he's busy doing Lunar Circle stuff." I lied. Derek smiled at me, knowing that he was winning between him and Michael, took Nicholas into his arms. 

“Hey, buddy, let's get in the Camaro." They both cheered and walked towards Derek's car. 

Stiles walked up next to me, hands on his hips, "Is everything alright?" 

"Probably not." I said before giving him a weak smile, then I looked towards the boys, "There better be a booster seat in that car, Derek Hale!" 

MICHAEL

"Hello, thank you for calling Praetor McLeod’s office, how can I direct you?" The receptionist’s chipper voice crackled over the line. Michael gripped onto his phone, grinding his teeth together. 

"Hello?" She asked.

"Put him on, Shawna." From the tone in his phone, she let out a small yelp and switched the lines. 

"McLeod speaking." Lachlan’s voice boomed over the phone. 

"I got him." He growled. 

"Michael, is that you?"

"I got Derek Hale. He's living at the Stilinski house." 

“Michael, he isn’t a person of interest. Hale hasn't caused any trouble in the last five years." He said calmly, but Michael wouldn't be deterred. And he didn't mind lying either. 

“He kidnapped (Y/N) and Nicholas. He took them, he's claiming that Nicholas is his son and he took (Y/N) hostage." 

"So you're saying a beta took an alpha and her son hostage?" He sounded bored. 

“Lachlan! I'm not screwing around, he's crazy!" He tried to put his point across, "He's a bloodthirsty monster and he took my son!"

"Listen, you're not thinking clearly. I know what this is about, you’re jealous that Nicholas is with his father after you’ve had that role. And from (Y/N)’s report, Derek has been fine, it's you who’s been acting differently. Now you better start acting like a man and get your act together before I have to do something drastic." He said sternly and hung up. Michael slowly took the phone from his ear and gripped it hard. The glass shattered, digging into his hand.

Well, if the Praetor won't do anything... And (Y/N) won't do anything. Then it looks like he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. 

-----------

Read part 29 here!

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Robin Hood and His Merry Band

list of characters for an original series I’m working on 

Alan-a-Dale - the gloomy and cynical bard, the grumpy voice of reason who doesn’t give a fuck, wonders why he hangs out with these crazies, knows it’s cause they’re family to him but won’t admit it out loud, besties with Friar Tuck even though they never agree on anything, is clearly a bi disaster 

The Archdeacon of Canterbury - The aging head cleric of the church of England. He supports King Richard but is becoming increasingly impotent because of his failing health. Still holds a lot of political power because of his title though.

The Azure Assassin - A deadly mercenary and rival to Robin Hood. Orphaned at a young age Azure had to steal to survive. She stowed away on a pirate ship at the age of ten and has spent the pass eight years studying fighting techniques the world over. They call her the Azure Assassin because her blue eyes are the last thing you’ll see before dying. She’s gained a modest fortune and fame as a spy and assassin, however she can never stay in one play too long due to her reputation getting out. Prince John has offered her a pardon and a place in high society if she brings in Robin Hood’s head. Shame she’s fallen in love with his brother Will Scarlet, as that complicates matters.  

The Bishop of Hereford - Conservative asshole who supports Prince John’s rule and shares his beliefs on ‘bringing order to the kingdom’. Wants to usurp the Archdeacon as the head of the church. Is Friar Tuck’s and Sister Clara’s arch nemesis.

Dame Brianna DuBois - Also known as the The Black Knight, DuBois is loyal to the throne of England and whoever sits upon it. She’s Prince John’s personal bodyguard and unbeknownst to all a double agent for King Richard who is in hiding. However she is conflicted when her duty places her lover Yua in jeopardy. Yes, she’s totally a butch lesbian.   

The Duke of Essex - Prince John’s adviser and right hand man. He only cares for power for power’s sake but is sneaky and conniving and willing to play the long game to get it. He prefers poison to swords, but is surprisingly good at hand to hand combat when cornered. Has a pet snake. It’s the only living thing that he loves.    

Elenore of England - Prince John and King Richard’s sister and Maid Marian’s mother. She died when negotiations during a worker dispute turned violent. Unable to quell the people’s rage, she was stuck down during a riot. Richard, blaming himself for losing his temper and causing things to escalate has since tried to follow in her footsteps and become peacemaker. Prince John went the opposite route and blamed the ungrateful peasants (criminals in his mind) and resented Richard for even bothering to negotiating in the first place.   

Friar Tuck - The jovial and optimistic heart of the team. He tries to keep everyone’s spirits up and believes that helping people is the ultimate expression of god’s love. Is a hopeless romantic and also very, very gay. He butts heads with more traditional leaders of the church often. He also has a not so secret crush on his best friend Alan. 

Guy of Gisbourne - From pauper to nobleman, Guy is Robin’s opposite in everyway. He crawled up from the bottom rung by using and stepping on others and he’s always looking for the opportunity to climb the ranks. Don’t let his foppish ways fool you though, he is both a cunning and ruthless foe and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. His latest scheme however is to marry Maid Maiden and become next in line for the throne as Prince John has no other heirs save his ward.  

King Richard - Good Richard the Lionhearted is no longer a bloodthirsty crusader in this alternate universe but a peacemaker. He wishes to end wars, not start them, however his more abrasive, uncouth, and impulsive nature can often clash with his loftier goals. Many feel the king would do better to stay at home and tend to domestic matters instead of concerning himself with the conflicts of other far off lands. At the start of the story he has disappeared on one of his diplomatic visits. In reality Prince John has stuck a deal with the king’s enemies and he is currently on the run. 

Lady Tiffany - Little John’s little wife and the daughter of the Sherriff of Nottingham. She acts as the gang’s ‘man on the inside’ helping Robin Hood sneak in and out of places and feeding the team needed information. She’s stubborn and spoiled but also very kind hearted. She usually can get her father to give into her demands with just a pout and when that doesn’t work a full on tantum will do. She a woman who knows what she wants and what she wants is her man. Unfortunately daddy dreariest would never approve of their union and so Friar Tuck marries them in secret.  

Little John - Robin’s best friend and right hand man. He’s a simple man who loves life’s simple pleasures, good food, good friends, and a good brawl from time to time. He adores his partner, Tiffany and would like nothing more than to marry her for real, in a real church, in front of the whole world. However their relationship must remained hidden from her father, the Sheriff, since the violent lawman would sooner see him hanged then have a thief for a son-in-law.  

Lord Locksley - Robin’s and Will’s father. He is arrested for ‘not paying taxes’ but in reality it’s for supporting King Richard and secretly helping the displaced monarch. His arrest leads to Robin and Will becoming outlaws and the series kicks off two years later.   

Maid Marian - Prince John’s ward and niece. Her mother died when she was young and her beloved uncle adopted her. Prince John is the only parent she’s ever known and she at first believes him to be a kind and just man. She’s completely oblivious of Prince’s John’s underhanded dealings and oppression of the poor and at first is skeptical of Robin Hood. However as the two grow closer, Marian learns how harsh the real world is and just how much her father figure has lied to her. 

Miss Yua - Maid Marian’s lady-in-waiting and best friend. She’s the daughter of Sir Ivanhoe and longs to be a knight as well. She’s a stickler for rules and doesn’t trust Robin Hood and his gang of thieves. At first anyways, over time she too learns of Prince John’s cruelty and even becomes a victim of the tyrant’s schemes. Which puts her in direct conflict with her love, Brianna DuBois.  

Much the Miller's Son - born as Midge the miller’s daughter, the young Much longs to be accepted as a boy. As such he’s ditched his dresses, cut his hair, and ran away to Sherwood Forrest in order to be free from society’s expectations. The rest of the merry band accepts Much for who he really is, but at only 13 won’t let him join their gang. He still winds up caught up in their misadventures anyways due to his refusal to listen to anybody, and his determination to get away from his overbearing mother. 

Nurse Agnes - Maid Marian’s wet nurse and the closest thing to a mother that she has. Agnes believes in the ‘old ways’ and is very superstitious. She’s also very critical of royalty in general, but is smart enough not to say so out loud. She’s tried to raise Marian into a better person than Prince John, but eventually was dismissed once Marian had come of age. Since leaving the court Agnes has become the witch of the woods and a healer for the poor. 

Prince John - The main antagonist. Prince John believes that he needs to bring order to the kingdom of England and feels like his brother King Richard has neglected his duties as ruler and placed the kingdom in danger. He'll do whatever it takes to protect the country including subjecting it’s undesirables.  

Robin Hood - Leader of the Merry Band and archer extraordinaire, Robin Hood had to go on the lam when his father was arrest for ‘treason’. While his first priority was to keep his baby brother, Will, safe, the two of them met other outcasts in need over the years have built up an underwound network of rebels who fight against Prince John’s rule. Seemingly suave and cool at first, Robin is actually a bundle of nerves as he tries desperately to keep his friends and family safe...even if it’s mostly from themselves. His world is turned upside down though when he meets the lovely Maid Marian. 

Sheriff of Nottingham - The spiteful and cruel sheriff tries to keep the small town of Nottingham under his thumb. He hates Robin Hood and his Merry Band with a passion and sees their continued exitance as a personal insult. The only thing that will deter him from his goal of putting those outlaws in their place is his devotion to his beloved daughters Tiffany. Who distracts him with her seemingly impulsive and shallow whims.   

Sir Ivanhoe - A respected knight who once served under King Richard has returned home only to find that his king has not made the journey back as planned. He suspects that Prince John is up to no good, but is afraid to make any risky moves so long as his daughter Yua lives among the court. Her safety is the most important thing in the world to him. 

Sister Clara - The resident nerd of Sherwood Forrest and the brains of the team. Clara had joined a convent in order to receive an education and to study science, however her experiments were frowned upon by more traditional leaders of the church, like the Bishop of Hereford. She’s since renounced her monastic vows and has joined Robin Hood’s Merry Band in the pursuit of science! She’s allowed free rein on the sole condition that she doesn’t blow up the camp.  She still manages to blow up the camp, at least once a month. Still her inventions are invaluable to the team and she’s absolutely feral with her chim-bombs.  

The Trapper - A mysterious hermit who sometimes visits the local pub. He’ll often corner patrons with crazy drunken ramblings and loves to give Robin cryptic prophecies and disjoined ‘clues’ whenever they run into each other. (turns out this is an act and he’s really a spy for King Richard)

Will Scarlett - Robin’s younger brother. Will was 15 when they lost their father and now at 17 wants revenge. He’s a hothead and is constantly picking fights with everyone and anyone. While he is dismissive of Robin’s overprotectiveness, he both loves and admires his brother. Even tries to emulate him in some ways. He also would like to think of himself as a smooth talking clever con artist and ladies man but more often then not his temper gets the better of him. Like most teens he’s obsessed with the latest fashion tends and loves to wear fancy clothes (that he’s usually stolen) He’s favorite article of clothing is his impractical red feathered hat. He’s in love with Azure and is best friends with Much. 

[ultimatebethylficlist]

Veteran Author of The Month: June 2021

The featured veteran author for June is also a co-admin right here at UBFL: SquishyCool (or @im-immortal )!

SquishyCool can be found on AO3 and FFN under the same penname.

When asked what got her into Bethyl and what the fandom means to her, she said:

I’ve been a hardcore TWD fan since the show began airing, but that’s because of my love for zombies. In all honesty, I didn’t really ship anyone for the first 3-4 seasons. I kind of shipped Daryl with Carol, but then it became clear that it was a platonic relationship and in all honesty, I just wanted to see them both get some action lmao. Then the prison fell... and in those first moments of “Still,” when we see Beth and Daryl running and running and finally collapsing on the ground, breathless and exhausted... the butterflies started. Something clicked and I immediately thought, “uh oh.” The rest is history, especially considering how “Still” and “Alone” played out. I can’t explain how or why I’m still so heavily invested, especially considering my last 2 fandoms only kept my attention for about 2-3 years each, but here I am. And I love it! I am so incredibly grateful for the Bethyl fandom because not only has it helped me improve my writing so much more than I ever could have imagined, but it has also introduced me to some of the most amazing people, including someone who I now consider one of my very best friends! It’s my happy place :)

For her personal fic rec list, she recommends:

In The Maw by ronsparkyspeirs

Way Down We Go by LeathernLaces

Surfacing by lindentree

Wild Things (The Moonshine Poet) by Abelina

The Gift by Feliz

The Man Who Can't Be Moved by burningupasun

New Experiences Series by wallflow3r

Whisper Softly to Me by taylorcatherine

Interstice by leftmywingshome

To Love Like a Man by Seraphique

Death, Death (i defy thee) by alamorn

In My Blood by Courtneyshortney82

Let the Good Times Roll by gutsforgarters

Resolved by Allatariel

the weight of these wings by peachthorns

all my spaces are filled with you by annabeth_writes

A Little Jailbreak with the Little Jailbait by wandering_gypsy_feet

between the beginning and the end by sheriffandsteel

SquishyCool’s Works & Personal Thoughts:

Dirty Fingernails and Dried Blood Summary: What happened during the months between "Still" and "Alone"? Beth uses the last pages of her diary to write down every detail of surviving with Daryl. Thoughts: My first Bethyl fanfic. It holds a special place in my heart for that reason, though it is pretty rough. If I could go back, I never would’ve done it entirely in first-person. But I do plan to finish it one day. There are some scenes I’m particularly proud of, and I still have a long note full of ideas and plot points.

Most Wanted Summary: After Beth’s mother and half-brother are murdered in a drug war, the godly veil on the Greene Family operation is lifted, and law enforcement comes down hard. In an effort to protect her family, Beth commits a heinous crime that could mean life in prison alongside them. Now everyone she’s ever trusted is in police custody and her only chance at freedom is to get as far away from Atlanta as she can... Thoughts: Well, this is a must-read if you like my writing. I hope to one day convert this into an original fiction and maybe get it published, but I need to finish it first LOL. I got the idea from ONE scene of “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” and from there, it exploded into a huge mystery thriller (with lots of romance and smut). I’m really really proud of it, and I’m scared I’ll fuck it up tbh, so I keep putting off continuing it. But I really need to get back to it because I really want people to see what I have planned! (Also, this fic is the reason @courtneyshortney82​ started talking to me, so that alone is pretty historic lmao)

The Crow’s Song Summary: Beth and Daryl spend a few more days together in the funeral home and come to terms with all they've lost along the way. But soon, they must decide what comes next. Thoughts: This fic... this fucking fic. It took me a full year to write. I made numerous edits. I even got a little depressed while I was writing the last two chapters, and my bf didn’t know why until he read what I’d been writing lol. It’s honestly the Bethyl fic I’ve always wanted to write but just didn’t know how. I’m still really really proud of how it turned out.

Carnival Games Summary: Daryl is a traveling carnival worker and Beth is a barely legal farmer's daughter looking for a night of fun when the carnival comes to town. Thoughts: Omg this fic is so fun!! One of my first Bethyl fics, and one of my first Bethyl smut fics. Short, sweet, a little funny, and a lot hot. I am still impressed with myself on this one, especially considering how much my writing has improved since lol

Breathe. Please. Summary: Beth shows up at the Hilltop. Alive. Daryl can hardly believe his eyes. Until she's lying in his bed, an arm's reach away. And he can hear her inhaling... exhaling... inhaling... Thoughts: Another “fix-it” that I’m proud of. Tbh I didn’t think it was anything all that special, but a lot of readers have said it’s one of their favorites, and some say they reread it regularly, and nothing makes me happier than hearing that, so I am extremely proud.

picking @ scabs Summary: Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, being with them just isn't right. But what wouldn't you give for it to be right? Can someone like Daryl learn how to swallow his pride and stop repeating the same mistakes over and over? Can someone like Beth learn to fight off her demons and allow him to get close enough to hurt her again? How can they stay away from each other when it's all too easy to fall back into one another? Picking a scab will leave a scar, but they both have so many scars already... what's a few more? Thoughts: This fic is very, very personal for me. It’s like my “therapy” fic. I have poured some of my deepest feelings and struggles into its chapters, and the whole idea that got me to start it was that I wanted to find a way to navigate and cope with ending my 3-year long relationship with my emotionally/mentally/sometimes physically abusive ex. I still have a lot of fond memories from that relationship, but even more so, I have painful memories. Not to mention, going through your early 20s as a woman in the modern day is a fuckin’ trip, so this kind of explores that. It’s really self-indulgent, I think, but I’m really proud of the smut in it. And more than that, I’m proud of the response. I’ve had a few people message me or comment to say that they’ve felt all those things, or have experienced similar things, and it’s really just... relieving. I put my heart and soul out there, and what I got back was “you’re not alone.” So yeah, this fic is special. I wanna finish it soon, but I have to be in A Mood to do so. 

In Toto Corde Summary: Despite a million reasons not to, Beth and Daryl fell in love. Then he made the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep all of his promises. Now, facing unimaginable consequences at the hands of witch hunters, Beth has no choice but to use her powers to bring Daryl back from the dead. "He won't be the same..." Thoughts: I LOVE THIS FIC. I love it so much that I had to rewrite it after like 4 or 5 years. And I already started on a sequel that I really hope I’m able to finish. Though it doesn’t have many hits, and I don’t think many people have read it at all, which I understand since it basically is entirely focused around Daryl being killed. But damn, I’m proud of this one, and it was really fucking fun to write because witch!Beth is just... the best.

risk it all (part 1 of in for a penny, in for a pound) Summary: Daryl Dixon has a pretty decent life, all things considered. He's got his own place. A good dog. A few friends. Even a girlfriend. He keeps himself out of trouble. Until he starts texting Beth Greene. And hell, if he ain't about to risk it all for this damn girl. Thoughts: This was supposed to be one short multichapter fic focused entirely on smut and social media. Then I got on a roll and it ended up being the beginning of a series! This fic is purely fun. Nothing too serious or heavy. I write it when I’m in a Good Mood because it’s my little happy place. I have plans for about 4 more fics before the series will be finished!

Don’t Make Me Haunt You Summary: So here's the thing: Merle Dixon is dead as fuck. And as it turns out, Beth Greene is the only one who can see or hear him. Which is weird considering she's never met or even heard of this guy, let alone anyone with the last name Dixon. That's her first problem... Thoughts: The reception to this fic has absolutely blown me away. I had no idea anyone would want to read about ghost!Merle haunting Beth and forcing her to solve his murder with the help of his grumpy brother. And it was all inspired by an episode of South Park lmao then I started really getting into it and now it’s just like, my super fun fic where I explore a range of emotions and all kinds of religious beliefs and different mythologies and I can build the world however I want and goddamn I just love writing this fic. Plus there’s a podfic for it! I can’t even begin to explain how much I love this fic and how proud I am of it :)