#this was so incredibly disgustingly fun to draw

[fujimousee]

happy valentines...be whoo you aaareee❤️ i guess...

[cute-brainz]

Summit spoilers !! ( incredibly jumbled thoughts)

I started writing this the day after the summit came out. I think the spoiler warning is still valid !

- hella artblock but girl I will draw Sam and Tank sitting on a bench just outside the rain on skyside's porch holding hands and being so gooey and disgustingly sweet first chance I get. And more importantly sitting on their couch at home afterwards eating BUTTER PECAN ice cream. I am rotating them both in my mind.

- I do not want to talk or think about Alexis, so I won't. 👍 (Her VA was amazing though, props to them!)

- Asher and David should've kissed during that "look into my eyes" scene, I just think that would've been really fun. Angel probably thought so too

- I hope Sweetheart is okay because I am legitimately worried about them. And Milo because this is so stressful for him too lol

- And Lovely's crown.,. Oh my gosh. I have the biggest heart eyes you've ever seen. They love each other so much . I am rotating them in my mind also

- I am so fucking relieved Treasure didn't actually come. I have too many feelings in my body so it probably would've just made me evaporate off the face of the earth. I need their relationship to progress more please. if Porter didn't want to take them then why did he bother telling them about the magical world? Maybe just to have a consensual and regular blood source? Or maybe he really did want to bring them, then changed his mind? is everything staring me in the face, but the autism is winning so I have no idea? Many questions.

- WHERE is bright by the way??? And my boy Frederick????? I'm pissed.

- WILLIAM. Do not even get me started because this post is already too long for me. I love him but there's a lot he needs to answer for. And I care about Vincent SO MUCH So I will be a little pressed about it until he gets an explanation.

- Expected a lot of shifter-directed bigotry, then got a little bit, then decided that was enough for me.

- In my head while Sweetheart was agreeing to go with the plan and Milo, Asher and Babe were standing there, SH and Babe had a little "please be careful" moment. Thank you.

- I said I wasn't going to talk about Alexis but eventually I am going to write down Alexis and Tank's interactions. What alexis said and how I think tank responded. Tank is me, so it's important that I dissect everything that happens to them.

- Closeknit?? In MY party???

TLDR. I enjoyed it and I have big feelings

[scarywaryspookysoup]

I’m not normally one to shit on things sight unseen (well that’s not completely true, I’ll shit where I want) but jesus christ this new M. Night Shyamalan movie looks so goddamn stupid.

My thoughts from the ad:

1. Not a believable father/daughter duo, but maybe it’s the poor editing of the ad… or maybe it’s the shit dialogue.

2. Clear Lady Gaga character… not even trying here. I mean, the singer is named “Lady Raven”

3. Hopefully the sound in the concert scene is only this shitty because it’s an ad otherwise… jesus.

4. Why would this stadium employee talk to this idiot? First off they’re fucking busy and this dickweed waves them over and away from the work they’re doing. As someone who works in the service industry, I would have said “Do you not see alllll of these other fucking people that are in line to be fucking helped? Does M Night think all you have to do is wave someone over and tell them your name and they’ll spill every ounce of tea they have for you? No, they’ll wait and tell their coworkers about the entitled asshole they gave the cold shoulder to.

5. Why the fuck would this employee know all of the details of a high-stakes police (ACAB 🖕) operation?

6. How exactly did the cops (ACAB 🖕) find out that he was gonna be there but also don’t know who he is? Aaand how exactly are they planning to find him?

7. Pretty disgustingly close to a real murder case that was truly horrific and only 10 years ago. It’s one thing to be “inspired by headlines” (although let’s be real… that’s unnecessary as well, just use your imagination) but to make it this similar from the outset… why? If I can pick this up from a single, poorly made ad, it is pretty blatant.

8. What’s the twist gonna be? Bum bum bummmm the daughter knows! Bum bum bummmm he’s not the butcher— he’s the devil! Bum bum bummm he called the cops on himself! Or, a more important question: who cares?

While I’m sure this reads as FUCKING FURIOUS, more than anything I find it incredibly annoying (except for 7, I find the true story very upsetting and it is asinine to exploit this for another M. Night flop.) I find the current output coming in from studios pretty uninspiring — it’s starting out as a rough summer, but I always hold out hope and often find gems.

Remember when M. Night Shyamalan made that one really incredible movie? And then like a handful of meh movies? And then he just hit the rock bottom of a trash heap? And then he came out with a pretty fun movie and it was like “hey, you burned through a lot of our good graces but good job pulling this one out.” Except then he essentially went back to his worst instincts. One great, a handful of meh or ok, and a pile of dogshit movies do not a box office draw make. In fact, an ad this lackluster and cringe-inducing that then has M. Night Shyamalan’s name blasted at the end as though it will entice us is… laughable to say the least. I didn’t know my eyes could roll this hard. 🙄

[fareehaandspaniards]

In case anyone was wondering, why my nickname is Fareeha AND some Spaniards, answer is right under the cut! (Since Tumblr is basically a diary, and I REALLY want to describe, tell, write down, draw and even put it in my blog) Long post ahead! Many screenshots, personal stuff, memes etc.

So you decided to read... Good :'D

It started with Dark Souls 3. The first game experience was very exciting. I spent for about 3 hours creating a character, dealing with a disgustingly made character editor, and they came out.... Simply terrible. Some chubby-cheeked femboy (I have nothing against it, even like it sometimes, but he looked really terrible) with a face like he wants to betray you right now, taking away your family castle and all your feudal possessions. What a waste of time… Also it was sad that I spent 3 hours in the game without starting it. Therefore, I deleted this character and hastily, literally in 5 minutes, created new one - I barely changed one of the in-game templates - slightly lengthened the nose (because big noses are an art); decided to take a hairstyle that would be a little feminine, but at the same time more or less practical - a bun :’D ; made a slightly more stern appearance and it turned out that he was very attractive! There was a problem with the name, but then I also took the first one that came to mind - Esteban. I took the Deprived class because I couldn’t decide who I want him to be and I also wanted to try the so-called “most difficult class,” which turned out to be the most comfortable.

During the game I fell in love with him so much exactly the way he was - and he turned out to be a little frivolous, jester, Casanova, just a handsome guy in my favorite armor of the Black Knights (those devils look INCREDIBLE and make me squeal) and funny older brother of my husband's character.

Tbh now I see that I am making a kind of a doll game out of Fromsoftware games, as it was in childhood - all my characters have their own story, relationships, preferences and strong family bonds lmaooo Why not (I won’t stop)

Esteban was the first "Spaniard". Playing with him as my avatar was incredibly fun - numerous deaths were not perceived so hard, there were LOTS of funny moments, I was scolding Esteban, amusing my husband… In general - we became close, and for a long time finishing the game I could not calm down and was talking about him too much (I genuinely don’t know how my hubbo puts up with me). I was drawing, even wrote a fanfic. And since I LITERALLY CAN’T live without a romantic story, Esteban was the first simp of Prince Lothric and a little bit of Orbeck and Fire Keeper xdd

After DS3, we started Elden Ring. There I created Miguel - also a spaniard, Wretch, cheerful, but more mischievous and feminine than Esteban. I couldn't stop changing his appearance for a very long time until I found something that suits Miguel and fully reflects his character. I really liked Gideon Ofnir, well, really, really liked, but Miguel didn’t share my interest, and I couldn’t really ship them (except for a few explicit drawings :’D). Miguel stayed with Ranni, whom I love dearly, and I started the game again, with a new character. I created a girl. She turned out to be french and received the name Fiquet, and she not only gave me inspiration to finally write a fanfic about her and Gideon, but also brought me mental satisfaction because I finally took the Sorcerer class and spent the entire game killing enemies so easily (except for Mogh and Malenia) with a few hits, without tactics, thinking or other crap. Fiquet, my girl Q_Q

I miss them, enjoy the pics of them

Hello, sir :^)

After Elden Ring we started DS1, where Ramon was created in the same way, and also Jose in DS2 (I didn’t go further than Majula, I can’t help it - I don’t like this game. The desire to continue appears only because of Jose, who is my funniest character I think)

Ramon as his is. No screenshots of Jose, he jumped of a cliff and now looks kinda bad lol...

So it became a tradition to start the game with pathetic (I mean his class xd) spaniard and continue with girl (although I have only Fiquet for now. Others are not much remarkable). That’s how Guillermo was created for playing Bloodborne! I already did absolutely everything I could in BB (I even created a female character to come to Edgar so choir boy won’t be so sad :'D), but Guillermo remains with me - kind, sweet, a little nervous, like an angel from vintage postcards (I see him that way xD), caring, kind of mother figure, confident in his rightness, responsive and sensitive, but at the same time with an impenetrable moral shield (I mean, it’s impossible in any way hurt his feelings). I brought him together with Micolash (not surprising, I guess), came up with a tragic and romantic story for them and an AU with a continuation of the plot after the squid hunter ending for a happy end, endowed him with the blessing of Kos and gave him a backstory. There is something attractive about it when a man receives the blessing of a female deity who protects women - it says a lot about him as a more feminine person on the inside than he appears on the outside.

When I imagine any cool plot with Guillermo x Micolash, I feel like

Guillermo in case if you hadn't see him already:

You know, all my oc x canon look like that

(my OCs are always sort of Sportacus for their loved ones lol And also their loved ones are almost every time evil and edgy)

With all this I want to say that my spaniards and Fiquet have probably become like children to me... I love them, I continue to write about them, they are an integral part of my perception of games, and yes, this is probably really a peculiar need to play with dolls at my age xd Maybe that's why Guillermo wears Doll's gloves, Esteban enjoyed wearing Zullie the Witch's dress and gloves (with ADORABLE manicure yknow!!!) and etc lol...

Thanks for reading! I love to tell stories (As you may guessed lol), tho it take a plenty of time to translate it. Love yall

[ensnapemysenses]

No Full Moon Needed

Pairing: Severus Snape x Remus Lupin

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, 18+ Only, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Hand Job, Loss of Virginity, Top Severus Snape, Bottom Remus Lupin

Summary: Severus shows Remus such a great first time that he howls even though the full moon is weeks away.

Word Count: 1,068

A/N: This idea came from this ask! Thanks to whoever sent it! I had fun writing this short one-shot based on it!

Masterlist

No. 12 Grimmauld Place. One of the places that Severus despises the most. It’s not just that the house is unkempt but also that it belongs to one of the people he cannot stand to be within eyesight of, Sirius Black. In fact, the only thing keeping him from sprinting out of the disgustingly dirty and decrepit place after The Order meeting tonight is the prospect of spending the night with his boyfriend, Remus Lupin. 

Lupin had shyly whispered a plea into his ear for him to stay tonight, his face a glow with a bright red blush, and Severus jumped at the opportunity relishing the few extra hours the two would spend together. Things unexpectedly became quite heated between the two lovers the moment they entered the bedroom they would share for the night with Remus ravenously kissing Severus and pushing him against the door.

Startled Severus pulled back after a few moments. “Rem? Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, love,” Remus hums. “I - I think I’m ready to have you - all of you Sev.” He breathes deeply, taking Severus’s head in his hands and pushing their noses together, gazing into Sev’s black orbs. 

“Are you sure?” Severus licks his lips and searches Remus’s eyes for any doubt, but he comes up short, finding none present as Remus nods. 

Leaning forward Severus kisses Remus again, this time is more patient as compared to the earlier heated makeout session. It’s slow and delicate, deliberately drawing it out and making the most of their first time together. Though Severus is experienced he knows Remus is not and will do whatever it takes to ensure that Remus enjoys every last second of the night. Slowly he inches the both of them towards the bed, not breaking the kiss for a moment before laying Remus gently on his back. 

Ripping off both of their shirts, he pulls back and again searches the depths of Remus’s eyes for any hint of disgust or a change of his mind but he finds nothing but lust in his eyes as they cascade over his figure and wander farther down to the obvious bulge in his pants. He could have them both undressed in a matter of seconds with a muttered spell, but he feels like doing things without magic tonight is the way to go. If things go well, there will be plenty of time for quick sessions later.

“Can I touch you?” Severus asks Remus.

“Please,” he whispers.

Severus nods and slowly removes Remus’s trousers, leaving him in just his underwear which is already slightly damp with a few spots of precum. He breathes in sharply at the sight. “I’m going to remove these as well. Is that okay?”

Nodding, Remus closes his eyes as the tingling sensation elicited by Severus's fingers sneaking under the waistband of his underwear spreads throughout his body. Although they had touched before, knowing that tonight would be even more intimate makes him incredibly nervous. He stops breathing as Severus slowly pulls his underwear off, hissing as he wraps his hand around his length and begins pumping him.

“Breathe,” Severus whispers. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

Remus relaxes into Severus’s touch, whimpering with each motion. His mouth drops open with a silent gasp as Severus takes him into his mouth. “Fuck,” he groans.

Severus hums in response and begins bobbing his head up and down. Remus tangles his fingers in his dark hair and begins to shout incomprehensible nonsense.

“Use your words, dear,” Severus commands, releasing his length with a pop.

“I - I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that, Sev.”

“Oh, so are you ready for the main event,” Snape teases. 

“Fu- fuck, yes.”

Severus slowly removes the rest of his clothing. “I don’t usually top but I can tonight if you want me to lead,” he says, caressing Remus’s face and planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“I - I think that would probably be best,” he sheepishly replies, his ears turning bright red. 

“Anything to make you comfortable, love.” Severus kisses Remus deeply. “Legs up,” he demands and Remus obeys, slightly shaking from both nerves and excitement. 

Severus mutters a lubrication charm and inserts one finger and then another into Remus’s entrance. He wants to do this right - slow and meaningful. He’s determined to show Remus a toe-curling first time. 

Quickly, he finds the spot and begins massaging it in gentle circular motions. He applies a steady pressure and soon Remus is writhing with pleasure, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth agape with a pleasure he’s never felt before. It’s almost too much, he knows he isn’t going to last long. He’s already doing his best to hold back his impending release. 

Remus struggles to hold his moans in but the moment that Severus replaces his fingers with his cock he’s done for. A beastly howl erupts from his mouth and he comes hard, seeing stars as his warm seed soaks Severus’s chest and runs back down onto himself. Remus’s glorious screams have Severus rutting into him with a brutal force, searching for his own release which comes shortly after. Remus groans and his face screw up in pure bliss as he feels Severus’s warmth spreading in him.

“Are you okay? I didn’t know you would actually howl,” Severus teases, the two men lying in a sloppy embrace on the bed.

“I – I’m great actually. That was amazing,” Remus says, a dazed look on his face. 

Severus mutters a cleaning charm and they soon fall asleep, both too worn out from the night's events to do anything else.

The next morning Severus and Remus are in the kitchen enjoying a cup of tea and are soon interrupted by Sirius.

“Moony, why were you howling last night? It wasn’t a full moon was it?” Sirius asks.

“I - Uh no it wasn't,” Remus blushes.

“Then why –” Sirius stops short, glancing at Severus’s smug look as he sips his tea. “No, you didn’t!” he exclaims, his eyes widening, “And in my house?” Sirius feigns a gagging motion which only makes Severus smirk even more.

“I think it’s time we go for round two. What do you say, Remus?” Severus proudly suggests. Placing his now empty cup of tea on the table, he grabs Remus and drags him out of the chair and back to the bedroom. He’s going to have him howling some more shortly.

[adrianasunderworld]

More of Asmos daughter Astaroth, aka Asta

Astas mother is a succubus that knew Asmo for many years. They had a friends with benefits relationship that went on for a few centuries and at one point, the odds were not in their favor and all birth control fronts failed which resulted in Asta. They are still good friends and have a healthy co-parenting relationship because of it though. 

Asta primarily lives with her mother in another city of the Devildom that is a couple hours way. Her mother is a big name in the fashion industry and that's where the main office of her work is, hence why they don’t live closer. When Asta is on the Devildoms equivalent of summer break is when she goes to stay at the House of Lamentation for a few months.

Asmo has had a couple of oops babies over the many millennia, it is what it is. But they are all far apart in age and live in different parts of the devildom now. Asta is by far the youngest of the family, and she is the only girl. Her half siblings are boys. So she is disgustingly spoiled by her father and uncles. She knows it too. All she has to do is pout and bat her little eyes with a “Pretty please?” and all the lords of sin will fold. Asmo is so proud of his little charmer.

Solomon is her favorite uncle. The other six are irrelevant the moment he enters the room.

Is a daddys girl, was there ever any doubt though? Asmo calls her “My little princess” all the time. Asta has never been in want of affection, praise, or attention. Asmo always gushing over how cute she is. He's very biased, but Asmo genuinely believes each of his kids have been the most beautiful children to be born in the devildom.

Asta is used to having cameras around with parents like hers. Asmo loves to parade her around. When she was a baby, he loves having matching "Daddy and Me" outfits. Now that Asta is older though, it's more she picks out what she wants,and Asmo tries to coordinate. They still have fun though.

Despite being the child of two giant extroverts, Asta is very quiet, at least in comparison. She isn’t shy or anti social, far from it actually. But she often prefers more silent activities that she can do on her own. Like her uncle Satan, she very much likes to read. She sometimes writes her own stories and has little drawing to go with them. Or play games that are very laid back or have plenty of puzzles. She gets along very well with Levi in that regard. Even at the demon equivalent of nine, Asta greatly values her alone time, something that can be a bit of a rarity in the HoL.

All that being said, Asta is incredibly protective of the time she spends with her father and uncle's. She has affection and praise in spades, but that doesn't always make up for their lack physical presence and attention that she does not have readily available from them at all times. Whenever she stays with them, she wants to be with them as often as possible because she craves that quality time. So at the start, she does not like Mc at all, because she sees how much the brothers adore them and perceives that as impeding on her time with them. Especially since the brothers view Mc as part of the family, and want Asta to accept them as well. So they always suggest Mc come along to any outing that is planned,and she hates it. She isn't afraid to look all dead in the eye and say "No."

It genuinely breaks Asmos heart that two of the people he adores most are not getting along. He's tried talking to Asta but she always just replies that she has no interest in Mc and does not want them around. Asmo knows his daughter well enough that forcing her to be around Mc isn't going to help anything.

Asta may be fairly quiet but she isn't shy by any stretch. She's very blunt about about a lot of things and can be down right mean at times with little to no remorse. She no problems telling her family when she has a problem with something. Her mean streak has only gotten worse since Mc came into the picture.

Lucifer decides he's had enough of her behavior and sits Asta down in his study. (He told Asmo he was doing it. He wanted to be there but all the brothers agreed it would be better with just Lucifer. When it comes down to it, Lucifer will put his foot down with her.) He assures Asta she is not in trouble and that it's only them and she can freely speak. But she is not leaving until he gets a straight answer about why she dislikes Mc so much. Asta still tries to get out of it. She plays it off like she doesn't know what he means. Then sniffles like she's going to cry. When nothing works, she finally tells her uncle the truth. She immediately saw how much love and attention the brothers give Mc and was insanely jealous and insecure. It felt like they liked Mc more than her and since Asta doesn't see them often, she was scared of being replaced. They were her family first and she didn't want Mc to take them from her. All the while her fake sniffles turned into real crying.

That when Asmo burst into the study with the others behind, because of course they were listening, and hugged his daughter. Repeating over and over how much he loves her and she could never be replaced. And that they can spend as much time together as she wanted.

After the big family heart to heart, Asta started to act nicer. Well nice for her,at least. She didn't turn her nose at Mc, didn't make rude comments. It was slow going, but Asta eventually warmed up to Mc over her break. When it came time for Astas mother to take her home, she actually apologized to Mc for how she acted at the start. Something that shocked all the brothers. But it made Asmo a proud papa.

As Asta sat in the back of the car, her mother asked: "So did you have fun?" Asta nodded. "Yeah, had a lot of fun."

[wonderpommey]

{Roman’s sexuality - Solved}

What is going on with our little bundle of repression? Theories abound fixated around the main variations of human sexuality, which aren’t likely to fully explain what is going on here. It’s also sometimes hard to discern the writer’s intentions and the fandom’s desires for every man on the show to be gay ;) and shipper’s desires for him to be Gerri-sexual (guilty as charged). So just a heads-up that this is disgustingly biased, way too long but also 100% right. What we know from the people in the know is that although they initially wanted to have Roman be bisexual, they then seem to have decided that this was “too simple” an explanation for whatever was going on with Roman... Link to post

Roman as a character has this pull which draws people to him and he constantly uses that. He's a self admitted "people sniffer” who knows when to turn it on, to get what he wants, which is why so many of his interactions feel sexually charged. Case in point with Mencken who announces people wants to "fuck him or kill him”, thereby telling Roman what to do, which he does without any inhibition as he naturally has that fluidity, but it doesn’t really tell us what HE wants.

One explanation that may connect all the dots is that Roman just can’t bring himself to want what his parents would want him to desire. Logan has always pushed on his children the notion that business acumen=masculinity=toxicity=sex=love etc. This mantra is both something that Roman seeks officially and rejects privately (the total opposite of Shiv btw who rejects this officially but seeks it privately and that’s why Roman/Gerri despite being unofficial and private feels way more genuine and healthy than Tom/Shiv who have the legitimacy of marriage - and will keep having that - but that’s all). When his mother delights in Tabitha, because she is the very thing they want for him, he immediately says she’s a sex worker he met while she was blowing the groom at a sex party, in an effort to make her seem less agreeable. When his dad displays the acceptable sexuality by going “see Kerry, hot ugh, want her?”, he’s like “hawt ugh” and proceeds to look as uninterested as he possibly can. Trying to cure Roman from looking for love by trying to sell a relationship where one pimps out their girlfriend? Logan can be so incredibly dense sometimes.

Roman just can’t conform to what is expected of him sexually/romantically, maybe because he already conforms to everything else. Roman, unlike his siblings, is the least able to push back against his father and even when he finally disagrees with him (firing Gerri/selling the company), he caveats it by asking for Logan's love.

Might his sexuality be the only way he has to escape his dad’s grip and be his own man? His only way to rebel against visions of love/sex he instinctively disagrees with - most of his misogyny always feel so performative? Gerri’s admonishment that his family would be ashamed of him, if they knew where he was, doesn’t it only serve to excite him more? 

The typical misogynist alpha male relationship with the universally hot, younger, interchangeable girlfriend just bores him - and through his eyes to the audience, does feel boring - no matter how fun, young or hot the partner in question is. He knows to make a show of wanting it and we still see him flirting in public with whomever the nameless contessa of the episode is, but that’s not who he meets in private, who he watches painfully from a distance, who he asks about half drunk at night…

Unfortunately for him, repression is unavoidable when you simultaneously crave your parents' approval and try to kill them or at least rebel against the way they love you privately. This renders his sexuality too intrinsically linked to his dad’s disapproval to ever be something that is healthy and sustainable (Gerri even refers to his sexuality in terms of “finding an outlet” (allow me to digress within my digression - interesting by the way that she tells him that their relationship can exist without this - Everything being open to interpretation in succession, it almost reads as permission to pursue other “outlets”). Still, I think the people who want Roman to be a closeted gay/bisexual man who will be fixed once he accepts it have another thing coming. Roman will never be fixed, that’s the very push/pull of his character…

However, gay relationships definitely fit in something Logan would hate for Roman. It has the desired element of wrong (in Logan’s eyes).

So is incest and we always see Roman leaning into comments/jokes (though that’s probably more linked to Roman’s great original confusion as to what is family, love, sex and not having been taught to compartmentalise all that). Similarly, when Logan confronts him about Gerri, he’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t take the clear way out Logan gives him of saying “this was like saying fuck you”, he maintains eye contact with Logan through that conversation and then asks him not to fire her. 

^ This, incredibly, was as much shame for not abiding by the acceptable sexuality and strength in being recognised.

In many ways, it’s not enough for a normal person who seeks a relationship with another, but in the universe of succession and for Roman, maybe as big of a backbone as he’s ever displayed in front of his dad, and the sign of a relationship which was, despite being incomplete/unofficial, much healthier than Shiv and Tom’s. We all saw this ultimate decision between Logan and Gerri for Roman coming from a mile out, but of course it turned out to be way more subtle and about many different things. What we saw in those final episodes were his two selves facing each other in this doomed confrontation; one ridden with primal fear and craving of Logan’s approval and the other as the only thing that makes him feel like he has agency, the only way he can finally tell his dad to “fuck off” with his antiquated notions of sex (and love and business as the 3 are so often linked in the show).

Do all these things have to be linked for Roman? I guess it depends how happy an ending the writers want for Roman (lol I know I know), but right now it seems as the only way he can get love is through not linking it to his many destructive, uncontrollable, repressed kinks, which so far have only destroyed his relationships. Roman instinctively feels he’s not loved the way he should have been and he’s right of course, so why should he abide by his family's rules of what love is, clearly none of them really know... It’s obviously the thing he seeks though; someone who will remind him enough of Logan but who, unlike Logan, will know how to love him the right way - or what he sees as the right way; forgiving all his trespasses and boundary-pushing behaviour, propping him up as the prince he wants to be, foregoing one’s own interest to pursue his instead. He’ll either go all out pursuing this fool’s errand with Matsson (who already told him he’d use his weaknesses against him by the way) or he’ll realise that he did have love - even if it couldn’t be expressed the way he wanted it to. Or both. What a f****n ride!

^ that’s just free

[write-ur-wrongs]

A/N: Hello! Being on vacation has done wonders for my creativity and I am literally having so much fun writing these prompts. Here is a short fic requested by an extremely sweet anon, for Jaskier x female reader with the prompt: “don’t ever let anyone make you doubt your worth.” From this list of extremely soft prompts. This baby is about 1000 words and, as always, not proofread so I apologize for the typos you might find below the line! 

_________________________________________________________

Today sucked. It was truly and completely horrible. Not only did you get your ass handed to you by a group of ghouls, but you were ruthlessly chewed out for your mistakes; in public no less. You knew Geralt could be rough, especially in the afterglow of battle, but knowing this did nothing to soften the blow of his targeted assault.  

He didn’t even give you a chance to stand up before he started wailing on you, berating you for your lack of skill in battle, reminding you none-too-kindly that your hesitation with your sword could have cost someone their life. The memory of his face, red and contorted in anger as he yelled burned behind your eyelids every time you closed your eyes.

Now, fat, furious tears blurred your vision as you stomped your way up the stairs of the inn, desperate to lock yourself away from everyone’s looks of pity and contempt. Your boots, heavy with mud and congealed blood, were squelching disgustingly with each step you took; another reminder of your recent failings.

You reached your room just as you lost your battle with the tears pooling in your eyes, and let out a strangled sob as you tried to kick off your boots. Despite your best efforts, it seemed that they were in no rush to be discarded and resisted your attempts to wretch them off with your opposite foot. Groaning loudly, you threw your bag off your shoulder and bent over to pull the boot off by force.

However, as the tears kept coming, you struggled to keep your balance and felt yourself start to fall. You hopped pathetically on the one leg, still trying to free yourself of your footwear, when a strong pair of hands closed around your elbow. Agitated and confused, you fought against the support momentarily, but allowed yourself to be held when you finally registered the voice that was softly murmuring in your ears.

Now fully sobbing, you collapsed into Jaskier’s arms, your legs folding beneath your weight. Your sobs shook through your body freely as you felt the cold, wetness of your boots seeping through your pants. You felt like a pathetic rain-soaked child clinging to the warmth of the bard’s chest, burying your face into his neck.

Jaskier, to his immense credit, treated you with far more tenderness than you felt you deserved. He didn’t rush you out of your low and only shushed and coo-ed in response to your attempts to apologize for the scene.

Only once your breathing slowed down, giving way to sniffs and hiccups, did Jaskier pull away, brushing the hair out of your face. “I’ve got a bath ready in my room,” he whispered, giving your temple a kiss, “it’s all yours if you want it.”

“Jask,” you breathed shakily, “I can’t let you-”

“Hush you, I want you to have it. I can leave you, give you privacy? Or,” he sputtered, a light blush creeping up his cheeks, “I can help you? Get some of this gunk out of your hair?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you tried, but when your eyes met his, you couldn’t help but let a teary laugh bubble out of you. Giving into his pleading look, you leaned back on your palms and let him remove your disgusting boots before accepting his hand and getting up on your feet. “You are far too sweet to me, Jaskier.”

“Nonsense, my angel, you are far too hard on yourself.”

*

The pair of you walked, hands held, across the narrow hallway to his room in silence. To your great pleasure, Jaskier had been serious when he joked that he’d requested a bath so hot it could scald you; the lavender-scented water was still steaming when you gently lowered yourselves into it.

You were just about to fall asleep, leaning back onto Jaskier’s chest, his chin resting atop your head, when he spoke up – his deep voice vibrating against your back.

“Don’t worry too much about Geralt’s fit today,” he said, drawing circles on your arms, “he only yells like that because he worries.”

“Sure,” you hummed, not wanting to discuss the day’s affairs just yet.

“I’m serious, my love. Trust me, this is how he shows he cares. H-how he communicates his concern. It’s brutish but that’s Geralt.”

“You weren’t there during the battle, Jaskier. Or no, sorry, ‘attack’ would be more appropriate,” you spat, self-hatred bubbling back up to the surface. “I’m a drain on this little operation. I’ve been thinking it might be better if I… stayed back. Left you to your heroics.”

“What?! No, no, no, I will not accept this!” He gasped, pulling his legs back behind you so that you could turn and face him in the tub. His wide, grey eyes were fixed on yours so intensely you couldn’t help but bite your lip in a feeble attempt to slow the blush from taking over your features. Upon seeing your expression, Jaskier softened his own; taking it from stern to supportive in a flash.

“You are not a drain, okay? You’re – you’re incredible! You’re so brave, and kind, and caring. Don’t ever let anyone doubt your worth; especially not you! Hey… look at me. There she is,” he breathed, “there’s my girl. Give us a smile?”

“Don’t push your luck, Jaskier,” you warned, albeit playfully, as you felt a smile pull at the corners of your lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he laughed bashfully, before lacing his hands under your knees to guide them over his legs and around his waist, securing you on his lap so he could cup your face tenderly. “But I was being serious, yeah? You are, so incredibly valuable to us, to me. Don’t you dare harden your spirit to accommodate him. We need a heart like yours on our team.”

You looked at him fondly then, pulling your arms and legs around him tightly before leaning in to kiss him slowly, deeply, and sweetly.

“I love you,” you murmured, pulling away briefly to catch your breath.

“I love you more,” he replied, pulling you back in, with no intention of ever letting you go.

[abcd-adventures]

Tagged by the wonderful @zerocarb (to provide extensive answers)! :) 

the rules: tag a few people you would like to get to know better

relationship status: Met my husband when I trained him on the cash register at McDonalds--he had a permit to work at fifteen; I just lied about my age. He found me incredibly obnoxious at first, but I wore him down and we became super close friends! Fun fact: he actually attended the reception for my first wedding just long enough to hug me and tell me he may not agree with the marriage but he’d always be there for me. He always was. And, when I was ready for a healthy relationship, he was there. We’ve been together for 16 years--married ten of those years! Bonus picture of the family above! I’m disgustingly lucky, and I try not to take it for granted! <3

favorite color: green/turquoise? Any blue/green combination is probably going to draw me in. I love cool colors like that; they’re very calming.

three favorite foods: Potatoes! I don’t think there’s a version of potatoes I don’t like. They’re the best! Also, TACOS!!!!!! And, nachos! Ok, just all Mexican food, authentic, Tex-Mex--whatever. Texas has really great Mexican food options and I LOVE IT!

last thing I googled: a condo complex that is down the street from our neighborhood. @zerocarb is a real estate mogul and the husband wants us to be moguls, too, but it freaks me out. So, we’re considering compromising on a condo close by for our first investment property instead of a house. *shrug* CONSIDERING. It still freaks me out. I was not raised with money and I still find it weird to have it.

time: 9:46pm (CDT)

dream trip: We both really want to do a hiking trip through New Zealand, but that’s a LONG flight and probably won’t happen for at least a few years because toddler, so also Northern Ireland and Scotland. Ireland is our favorite place we’ve traveled; we could even see ourselves living there if we didn’t have other family pressures.  

tell me what you really, really want want, what you really, really want (fixed it): I want someone to magically give me the answer about what to do about my mom??  Should we move and try to find a place that we can have her live with us but not make us all want to kill each other? Should we go in together with her to buy a house so she can afford her own place near us? Should we go back to the plan of adding on to our own house and just deal with the many complications, long wait times, and over-priced BS with the contractors? Her place is becoming overwhelming for her and she’s not in the best of health and we need to figure this out but she’s making it difficult and it doesn’t help that I also feel completely at a loss about what is the right call. My anxiety is through the roof whenever I even let my mind touch on this subject!!!!!

Tag! @jsunshine @crunchy-bits​ @stackofpaperbacks​

[jjackrabbitt]

Ms. Peregrines, book 6, chapter 21-23:

unrelated to anything actually happening right now, but i don't believe that men cannot be ymbrynnes. that doesn't make sense from a biological standpoint and i think the ymbrynnes made that up. i don't know why, if it was just a misunderstanding or if it was for control reasons, but "men can't be ymbrynnes" sounds like a damn lie.

this is related to whats happening: i would like to give jack shaken baby disease for everything he's done, but particularly what he's done to the addicts.

woo guerilla warfare

while it's plenty amusing that Jacob can forget to speak human language in favour of hollow, it would be incredibly funny if he could use his human voice to speak through the hallows.

"he crashed into the roof, narrowly missing Emma and a contingent of home gaurds," (top of p. 436) three of the hallows heads whip around to face Emma and Jacobs voice comes out to say sorry :/

oh fuck off we're busy carrying a bloody 13 year old inside

hi Francesca :^)

WHERE is Mother Dust

Fiona said LETS EXPLODE THINGS

@finn-nito ya know what would have helped get through the quilt? millions of worms.

i really want to do some drawings of Myron's house cause it's a victorian house but it's a museum but it's a big machine and it's got rococco angels and many portraits of him on the ceiling and it looks enough like shit on the outside to be unnoticeable in Devils Acre and takes up like, an entire block.

hey if jack's goin to be in everyones brains, could it go both ways? could you talk back to him? tell him the entire plot of hannibal in detail? upload every episode of Bill Nye? fill his brain with chewing noises?

a sleepover isn't complete without intergenerational trauma and night terrors.

how many times do yall think Myron got mad at jack when they were kids and told Alma exactly how to get his short ass in trouble with Ms. Avocet?

Hi Nim :^)

i would like to give Nim fun sweaters and good food

Bold of Myron to assume there would not be some one (me) who would want to open the farting case Really Bad just to see if it smelled

aight so i know no one (barring the like, 40 people here) reads these books so what's it matter and Jacob isn't like, Jewish-jewish but maybe? don't have your jewish characters be descended from freakass monsters who are part of a Super Secret Group of Powerful People and these specific ones eat people? maybe don't do that? where the way for your jewish main character to become more powerful and closer to his ancestors is to drink souls? which in this book can be removed from a person as a blood-like substance? that doesn't look great :/

i'm 70% sure that wasn't intentional but :|

i still think someone should have gotten to paint stuff on Myrons portraits

how many times does Jacob have to do something he thinks is unforgivable and his friends only try to help him for him to figure out they're not going to leave him? even if he turns himself into a hallow and survives?

fun fact: when Noor eats all of jacks stolen souls, she gets all the power

"his wind had slowed to a breeze" alternatively, just keep him like that and anytime it gets hot out you'll have an angry little fan to sit around.

speaking of which, it's so disgustingly hot here, i'm fucking dying.

good night, babes <3

[jeonggukkiepabo]

MOONCHILD 🌙  6

SUMMARY: Soulmates are a common thing. Everyone has one. Some people think soulmates are the greatest gift fate could give, others are envious about happy couples that were lucky enough to receive a wonderful partner. One of them was Min Yoongi. Your time to meet your significant other hasn’t come yet, stumbling into the tattoo parlor with a simple idea in mind, not knowing that you will be bound to step by more often. When you leave for the first time, you’ll go home with your masterpiece of a tattoo.

When you leave for the second time, you’ll go home with not only one, but two soulmates.

The man that was supposed to be your only soulmate, the one that never wanted to tell you that he woke up with the exact same koi karp tattoo just sits and watches - until he can’t take the pain anymore.

GENRE: Soulmate!Au

PAIRINGS: Y/N x Taehyung / Y/N x Jungkook / Taehyung x Jungkook / Taehyung x Jimin / Jungkook x Jimin / Hoseok x Seokjin / Y/N x Yoongi 

WORD COUNT: 8k

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, fluff, kissies, deep talk with yoongi, mentions of heartbreak

Somehow, it was easier to warm up to Namjoon and Jimin than you thought in the beginning. It’s a weird feeling, growing comfortable around basically strangers, but it feels like you’ve known them since forever. Thinking about it now, you’d totally agree to what Jungkook and Taehyung said before: a bond isn’t something random and that it’s impossible to ignore it. To you, it feels just right, without any further explanations needed. You even stopped wondering why you always feel so at ease when one of your mates is around, why any fears seem meaningless when you’re with them.

Because you couldn’t be happier about the bond you shared with your four… now boyfriends. Your soulmates. The loves of your life. Of course, everything is still new for you and the group’s dynamics are still confusing to you, but as Jimin once said: you’ve got time. Things are getting easier every day and everything is falling into place slowly, allowing you to feel lighter every day. 

Soon enough, your spare days are consisting of either hanging around at the tattoo parlour or drawing in the bakery to at least spend some time with Jimin and Hoseok. You’ve grown closer to the latter, lucky to have a neutral person to talk to, someone unbiased when it comes to your lovelife.

He’s incredibly funny and you’d never complain about his teasing jokes, because you’re not the only victim; he’s unstoppable and your four boyfriends are his favorite target for his bickering. And Hoseok himself could only describe you with one word: endearing. He loves seeing you smile, loves to be the reason for your adorable reactions. The red haired man knows that he adores people way too much for his own sake, but you’re definitely one of a kind. He almost feels a soft lightning of jealousy whenever he notices how differently you brighten up once one of your soulmates comes into sight, but he’s quick to remind himself that he has an adorable soulmate on his own.

Hoseok even created a special cupcake flavor for you - a cotton candy cupcake with bubblegum frosting, pink and blue, melting on your tastebuds. 

“Hobi those are amazing!” You smile as you lick the frosting off your cupcake, sprinkles sticking to your nose as you do so. Hoseok grins, shrugging his shoulders as he places another one in front of you. “I know right? The bubblegum frosting kills it! This one is the last, though. I don’t want to feed you cupcakes all day long. They aren’t going to be special to you any longer if you keep eating several of them every day.”You pout, looking over to your boyfriend to save you. Surely someone will make Hobi cave right? No one can resist you; you always end up having what you want. 

“But I like your cupcakes, Hobi! Jimin, tell him that cupcakes are good for me. Some people might need vitamins, but I need cupcakes to live!” Jimin laughs, eyes disappearing as he holds up his hands in defence. Goodness, can you get any cuter? He can’t believe that their soulmate can be such a child sometimes. You’re worse than Jungkook and Taehyung and the three of you can become a dangerous trio.

“I can’t help it, peaches.” He walks over to you, bending down slightly to match your height. Then, he licks one fat stripe across your nose. 

“Jimin!” You screech at the disgustingly wet feeling, but your boyfriend just giggles, licking his lips slowly. 

“You had frosting on your nose, I couldn’t help it. Even though I have to say that I’m not a fan of the bubblegum.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle quietly despite the sticky feeling not leaving your face.

“Yah! No sex in my bakery, Jimin go and do some dishes, mop the floor or do whatever you usually do at work!” Jin chimes in, gently slapping the back of Jimin���s head. You can’t help but laugh out loud as you notice Jimin’s dejected expression. He glares at you slightly, whilst you wiggle your eyebrow just like he did before. You get his “wait until we’re alone” message clearly and think that you might have to run away before his shift is done otherwise you might be in for a complicated time later.

“Karma, Minie. Thanks, Oppa! How are you doing, Jinnie? I haven’t seen you around in a while.” You smile sweetly, trying to distract him from your boyfriend before he gives him more work. The eldest sighs dramatically, showing you all the boxes he just carried inside the bakery. 

“I spent the weekend in my hometown to see my family, but also went to this kind of coffee expo, that’s where I got all that new stuff, coffee beans with rose aroma, different oils to infuse the coffee and pastry and even some of those little sprinkles Hoseok loves using - but those glow in the dark!”

You scrunch your nose worriedly. “Are those healthy?”

“Yah! Who cares about health if you can have cupcakes that glow in the dark? Sometimes you’re the worldwide funny girl, Y/N.” 

Jin laughs and shakes his head as he continues to carry the boxes into the storage room, mumbling how exciting those sprinkles are and that they were worth every cent. A big smile is plastered on your face and you’re sure it won’t fade anytime soon as you feel a warm sensation spreading through your entire body. This is one of your new safe places. You don’t know a lot about Seokjin and Hoseok, but they are possibly the nicest men you ever met (excluding your soulmates) and you often find yourself speaking with the two men, spending some quality time with them in the café. It feels like you’re a little family and you can’t help but giggle at the image that is now stuck in your mind; Jin being the loving grandma whilst Hoseok is the chaotic father that doesn’t even know his children’s friends' names.

“Hobi, please don’t put them on my cupcakes. I think Yoongi would love them though, they match his personality and that way you can test if they’re harmful or not.” You wink at the couple as you start collecting your belongings and shoving them into your backpack before returning your cup and plate to Jimin. 

“Thanks, Minnie. I’ll see you tonight, right?” You press a kiss onto his lips before turning around to Hoseok. 

“Hobi, help your man, you don’t have those strong arms for nothing! Thanks for the cupcake, I hope there’ll be more tomorrow!” Hobi laughs, shaking his head as he hands you a small bag of pastries for the boys in the parlour. You smile quickly before leaving. Jimin sighs behind, already missing your comforting presence.

“You have a lovely soulmate Jimin-ah.” Jimin perks up at the mention of you and he giggles quietly. Hoseok smiles at him, happy to see his friend so joyful, breathing happiness. Jimin has been glowing recently, and Hoseok knows who is responsible; and to be honest, he can’t really blame him.

“She’s the best”.

The days at the parlour are the most thrilling ones because Jungkook couldn’t stop suggesting to tattoo you, even if he’d only get to tattoo small little designs in hidden places. In the beginning, you were strictly against it, but his round doe-eyes combined with the adorable pout made it almost impossible to say no. And boy he knows it. He knows how to use his charms to make you cave in. So one day, you indeed gave in. 

“Fine,” you sighed, “but make me a small dinosaur, I want something cute on my ankle.” 

Firstly, he’s overjoyed that you said yes but then he replays the sentence in his mind and the thought is not so attractive anymore. Jungkook sighs, stomping his boot-cled foot on the floor. 

“A small dinosaur? Why not something more.. dangerous?” 

He can’t help but imagine you covered in his arts, only the prettiest pieces for you, and he can’t explain how much the thought arouses him. It has-scratch that-you have an effect on him that he can’t really comprehend. But… Come on, a small dinosaur? He expected better from you.

“I’m not dangerous, honey. I can still ask Yoongi to tattoo me one, though. If you’re not up for a challenge…” Smirking, you wait until he reacts, knowing that Jungkook would never say no to a challenge. 

But what’s making him silently snap is not really the challenge but the thought of someone else accessing your skin. No. He’s not going to allow that; it’s either him or Tae, but no one else. 

Behind you, Yoongi’s head pops out of the room he’s currently tattooing in. 

“I’d say no as well, I hate those minimalist tattoos,” he replies before closing the door again, leaving you more than confused.

Once you look back to Jungkook, he already prepared some small designs despite his complaints. There is no way he is letting someone else tattoo your perfect skin, so he prepared a little t-rex, a stegosaurus and a cute little triceratops. 

“The last one, the last one!” You clap your hands, excited for the new addition on your body. Jungkook grumbles, moving towards the desk to prepare a stencil.

“Get a girlfriend they said, it’ll be fun they said. Tae would never want a dinosaur tattoo from me.”

You frown, eyebrow raised as you look over to your boyfriend. 

“Are you saying you regret being my mate? Because last night when you had your dick between my boo-” 

“I didn’t say anything, calm down.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he comes back to you again, pulling you into his own little tattoo corner. Sometimes you’re more dramatic than Jimin and he doesn’t know if he thinks it’s endearing or just slightly annoying. Usually, he goes for the first one.

Small tattoos were soon enough a weekly thing for you, sometimes Taehyung chimed in with an idea but it were mostly some scribbles from Jungkook’s sketchbook that caught your eye and were inked into your skin a few hours later. If the first dinosaur hadn’t really thrilled Jungkook, he began to adore these little additions to your skin somehow all fitting together. The two boys were getting protective of you and what you were getting on your skin, debating where and what to tattoo to make sure the whole would look pretty on you.

One day, Jungkook is just getting started to tattoo a little moon onto your wrist, next to the sun that he gave you last week when Yoongi comes into the parlour, cupcake and coffee in his hands. His eyes meet yours and for a second you see so many different feelings swirling in his orbs that you feel slightly uncomfortable, even with your boyfriend next to you. 

“Y/N, again? Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t have pulled you into the parlour. Don’t you have a workplace to be or another one of your several boyfriends to annoy? Jungkook, you need to charge her for all that material at some point, I’m not shitting money.”  The shop owner scoffs as he places his breakfast onto the front desk. You smile, ignoring his snarky remarks, because by now you know that all he does is bark but not bite. Yet, the gloomy feeling you have is not leaving your skin and you shiver for a second. Jungkook’s eyes snap to yours, worry written all over his features. You soothe him down as you feel his questions through the bond. Does he think he hurt you even though he still has not started the tattoo? 

“Oh, you got a cupcake from Hobi-oppa? Wait, is that the special one he makes for his friend? Poor soul, his friend didn’t pick it up again?” Jungkook giggles, having to pause the tattoo gun for a second to look at his Hyung’s reaction. He knows who the friend is and your confusion is just peak comedy. 

If only you knew what you had started.

Yoongi shoots him a warning glare before mumbling a “I’m the friend, you idiot”. It takes you a few seconds to understand what he just said and you realize why Jungkook is a giggling mess by now. 

Hoseok’s friend is Yoongi. 

Yoongi and Hoseok know each other and Yoongi picks up cupcakes on a regular basis even though he told you he wasn’t one for sweets. 

“You’re friends with Hobi? I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you otherwise I wouldn't have been that rude.” You smile sheepishly even though the blonde man seems to be ignoring you. “That’s so unexpected though, you’re grumpy and he’s a sunshine. I wouldn’t have guessed it, you must make an interesting pair. When worlds collide, huh” you chuckle as you watch Jungkook finishing the last line. “Thanks, bub!” You press a quick kiss onto his lips before he wraps your wrist, then you’re done. He knows that Yoongi is about to say more; the older is unable to finish a conversation without making sure that he has the last word, especially when it comes to Hoseok. Jungkook is not one to get involved where he shouldn’t, but sometimes he has questions that are burning his tongue even if she succeeds in keeping everything for himself. 

What you don’t hear is the painful sound coming from Yoongi as he watches you and Jungkook’s  bond playing games with him again. He’s been trying to deny that the bond hurt him when he sees you with someone else, but sometimes, it stings a little bit too much for him to ignore it. Your tattoo was still there, even after you accepted your other mates, so who was he kidding? He wasn’t even enough for you, he couldn’t replace any of those young men - not that he wanted to. You were annoying, too gigglish and beaut- always there, you were always there. Whether it’s the bakery or their parlour, your scent, your laugh and your voice are everywhere. It follows Yoongi and he hates every second of it. Sometimes he feels like Edward when he met Bella for the first time. Not that Yoongi watched Twilight. No. He has… just heard of it.

You are everywhere and he hates it. He truly wishes he had not dragged you into his shop because now you’re not leaving even though he’s doing everything to avoid you. 

But why does he even want you to be bothered? It's not like you mean anything to him, he has no reasons to expect a reaction from you right? Especially since you found other soulmates, far better than him apparently. You even spend more time with Seokjin and Hoseok than with him anyway. 

“Yeah, I’ve known him for quite some time now. Free coffee and cupcakes from time to time are a nice thing to enjoy.” 

Quite some time, sure, Yoongi thinks. What about your teenage years that you were inseparable? The crush you’ve had on him for ages? The one drunk kiss you shared the night before you turned 18? That drunk kiss could’ve activated the soulmate bond, but you chickened out and ran away like a baby, it’s your loss, bastard. Seokjin used his chance and what happened after that was obvious.

Yoongi turns his back to you to take a deep breath, his oversized shirt slowly moving down his shoulder and exposing his neck before he can do anything against it. He realizes his mistake a little bit too late even though he’s quick to turn around again, looking for any sign in each Jungkook’s and your face - obviously both of you realized something. He sees the confusion melting into a frown on your face and he cannot meet your eyes. This is happening, isn’t it?

“Why do we have the same tattoo, Yoongi?” 

The fact that he doesn’t even bother to answer is making you angry. Why the fuck does he has the same tattoo? You’re 100% sure of what you just saw, you look at this tattoo every morning before getting dressed. You know the lines by heart and it is not possible for you to mistake it by any means.

So why the fuck does he have your tattoo copied on his skin? Reasons and possibilities are flying through your racing and furious mind. You already imagine the worst. Maybe one of the boys even helped him? He cannot reach this place by himself. It means that someone else did it for him. Did one of your very own soulmates betray you like that? “I drew it myfuckingself and now you’re running around with a cheap copy of it? Who did it, Jungkook!” You’re on your feet, getting closer to the young man at a dangerously slow pace. Jungkook blinks at the sudden call of his name “Tell me. Did you or Taehyung help him?” He tilts his head obviously confused by what you are saying and it only angers you more. Is he playing dumb now? You know a tattoo when you see one and even though it’s not your job, you’re well aware that the place of the tattoo is not one someone can reach alone. Someone had to help. 

Jungkook is getting mad too as he starts pulling the puzzle together but he sighs, shaking his head. You are his priority, he has to get you to calm down first. You are a team, not against each other. “Neither Tae nor I knew about this, I’m as shocked as you are, love. We wouldn’t have done that, I promise you. A tattoo is far too personal for us to do something this low. Now though,” Jungkook glares at Yoongi, hands slowly balling into fists, obviously understanding what’s going on. Yoongi just smirks at him, happy to piss the younger off. “Don’t act up, Jungkook.”

At least Yoongi has the upper hand for now and if he can take a little advantage out of it, then he will. The angry face of Jungkook is too good to pass the opportunity. Though, Yoongi does not dare meet your eyes; he fears what he’s going to see if he does. 

“Act up? Why? What’s going on?” But both of them ignore you and this is only rilling you up. 

“You have some guts Yoongi, you still didn’t answer me!” You almost growl, looking at the white haired man whose lips are still holding that sassy smirk. He’s still not looking at you and the fact that he is ignoring you is pissing you off greatly. Who does he think he is?

“You knew about that and didn’t think it would be important to tell her?” Jungkook gets no answer so he goes on “you know what could’ve happened and yet, you didn’t tell her? She could’ve been in so much pain, you could have hurt her, don’t you fucking care at least a little? You rejected your mate without even telling her about it you fucking son of a bitch!” With one big jump, Jungkook was right in front of Yoongi, hitting him right into the stomach. 

But then, you realize it. The tattoo appeared on his skin because it became the link between you and him. Your bond reached him through the tattoo. 

Yoongi is your fucking soulmate and he obviously rejected you as he never talked to you about and seemed to be actively avoiding you. The thought alone causes you to shiver. You failed as a mate before even being given the chance to prove yourself.

You laugh darkly as your fears finally become reality. Four perfect mates who loved you and accepted you for who you were? This was only a story you find in books, not in reality.

 No, in reality you have five mates and one would rather be risking both of your lives (thus risking all of the others as well) than to try to speak to you about it. Your voice is caught in your throat when you realize that you’ve also put your four other mates in danger because of this. If you’d come to lose the bond with them, it could damage their bonds with each other and most probably could hurt them physically and mentally as well. The tears are hard to swallow, but you have to for now. You want to vomit when you remember what you’ve been told about mates rejecting their other halves. It’s unfair how your bond is manifesting only now when it never did even though it reached for Yoongi’s. Because it hurts so much you wish you had felt the pain before, just for it not to hurt as much as it does right now. 

You’re not really sure where the pain comes from but you’re lightheaded when you look at both men again. You see Yoongi on the floor and Jungkook’s rage is flagrant on his features. You never saw him that angry. You’re almost concerned for a few seconds but you laugh bitterly in your head. 

Are you that pathetic that one of your mates had to punch someone for you?

Even though Jungkook’s move is well deserved - and makes you feel somewhat better, because he seems to feel the anger you’re feeling as well - this isn’t his fight. You’re not one to enjoy fights. 

That’s not what you wanted.

Why have you been tied to all of them? It feels unfair. You’re only destroying what they have and not adding anything positive. Just looking at what is happening now, you only brought chaos.

Yoongi might not want you as a soulmate, that’s his own choice. It hurts, sure, but this has nothing to do with Taehyung or Jungkook because the tattoo happened before you were a thing. And now you’ve involved both of them, hurting both in the process and almost putting them in danger because of your bonds. You can’t let that continue, you have to find a way to stop everything.

Once you get a hold on Jungkook and are face to face with Yoongi’s cocky smirk, you can’t help the urge to just smack him across the cheek, tears spilling from your eyes before you leave into the locker room, knowing that Taehyung was just about to finish his break.

This is what Yoongi wanted, so this is what he gets. 

You have to leave, you have to find another place to be because you can’t breathe correctly. You feel Jungkook reaching through the bond but you’re trying your everything to refuse him access. How do you cut a bond without hurting someone? Is that even possible? 

You laugh over your thoughts as you notice that  you are trying to reach for comfort. What are you doing? Are you trying to leave or are you trying to seek for one of your soulmates? What are you trying to do? Feel validated by one of the four men you adore? What if it only made them realize what you are? You’re just a nuisance after all. You keep on ruining what they all have. Do you really deserve to be selfish once again and seek for one of them to comfort you? 

At least you know better than running to Jimin right now, because he would’ve told Namjoon, Namjoon would’ve called Taehyung and Taehyung would… You don’t even know what Taehyung would do, you don't even know what you are doing, you just don’t want to hurt or worry any of them, yet your mind is turning cloudy as you open the door and fall directly into Taehyung’s arms, bond reaching for his instantly. 

You feel pathetic. Running into your soulmates arms as soon as something is going wrong. You’re just going to worry Taehyung, which is going to worry Jimin, who is going to worry Namjoon and- And you can’t think anymore. 

Your mind is racing but you can’t focus anymore. The only good thing about finding Taehyung is that it’s better if he hears about what happened from you, rather than to understand everything by someone else. Besides, it feels a little bit soothing to have him close to you. You feel like you belong somewhere despite… Despite what Yoongi decided for you and for your bond. 

“Angel, what’s wrong? I can feel a lot through the bond, but it’s… Quite negative, what is happening?” Taehyung whispers as he strokes your hair carefully, embracing you in a warm hug that soothes your hazy mind a bit, but everything still feels suffocating. You just hope that your feelings aren’t fully communicated through the bond because you’re probably setting everyone in panic if so. You can’t contain your words but your labored breathing makes it difficult to actually explain what is happening right now to your confused soulmate.

 “Yoongi… he has my koi carp tattoo… He didn’t even tell me, god, Tae. Why me? He hates me, he so obviously h-hates me and now he’s mated to me as well? H-He doesn’t even want me and bad things happen to people that don’t accept the bond and it means that you g-guys are in d-danger because of m-me. God I r-ruin everything, I’m a-awful…” 

“Wha- shh, angel, slow down. You’re okay, you’re safe with me, alright? Don’t say those things about yourself, you're perfect sweetheart. You’re not ruining anything” Taehyung has to breathe a few times not to curse loudly and yell some pieces of his mind to his Hyung.

He respects Yoongi a lot, he has always been his mentor. But there are things that he does not tolerate and making his soulmate cry and panic that much is one of them. 

God, he has felt the urgency in his bond; you were trying to desperately find an issue. Had he not had his hands full of ink when the bond started to weigh his whole soul down, he would have flown to the lobby. He feels regretful for not throwing everything away in order to come to you. 

You and Jungkook are both way more precious to him than some disposable things. He knew something was wrong and he had tried to brush it off, thinking that you both were together and thus, nothing could happen to you. He should have followed his bond at the exact moment he felt something. 

Fucking shit, Yoongi is your soulmate? And he said nothing? What if something had happened to you because of his rejection of the bond? 

Taehyung is gritting his teeth; he has to calm down otherwise he’ll never soothe you down either. Yoongi is an asshole. Okay, he didn’t think that he would ever do something that low but he has to focus on you and soothing the ache in the bond. 

He tries to mentally erase the moment you started saying you were an awful soulmate because it is not helping him. He just wants to leave the room and find Yoongi. 

But Taehyung is an adult, he knows that acting rash won’t help.

He’ll get angry at Yoongi later.

“Jungkook is probably talking to him right now, even though I’m… Definitely not the biggest fan of his actions, Yoongi... I don’t really know if he does, but I think that Yoongi might deserve it right now. However, that’s Yoongi’s problem right now. You don’t have to endure it, nor to wait for him. It’s not because he is your soulmate that you have to think of him first, alright? Do you want me to take you home? Away from Yoongi? I don’t have any more clients, I should be doing some sketches but I can do those at yours if you want to. Think of yourself first for once, will you? If you feel like you have things to tell him, then we can stay, but I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure for an idiot that didn’t even think of you in his decisions.” 

Tae kisses your forehead, but you shake your head no. 

“I have to talk to him about it. I want to know why he hates me so fucking much. Also, I want to return the right of having a soulmate, some people are overwhelmed with just one, now I have 4 and a half!” Taehyung smiles, proud of you. “That’s my baby.” His thumb runs on your cheeks, erasing the tears that escaped. 

“Whatever Yoongi chooses is not your responsibility, alright? It doesn’t change that we have a bond, the five of us and you are with us whatever happens, okay? You are an amazing soulmate, Angel. Don’t doubt it. The one who fucked up is Yoongi. Not you. Yeah?” 

You nod quietly against his palm and he kisses the crown of your head. You don’t feel quite ready to speak with Yoongi but you guess that you deserve to know the truth and the full story. He does owe you that, at least. 

It does surprise you that Jungkook and Yoongi weren’t fighting anymore once you came back into the lobby. Instead, they are seated on the couch and talking quietly, even though it’s more like a whisper-yelling from Jungkook’s side. You don’t really know how to feel, you’re confused and hurt obviously, but you’re going to have to be the bigger person and actually wait for him to explain if he wants to. Taehyung is reaching to you through the bond and you feel slightly more confident. You’ve been overwhelmed with so many feelings that you had begun to think about things that were so far from being the truth. Your mind just kept on escalating until you’d felt like nothing. You’ll have to thank Taehyung for grounding you. 

“Yoongi..?” You shyly ask as you make your way towards them - somehow afraid of the platinum blonde man. Biting your lip, you try to calm your anxiety down for at least the talk, but how could you without knowing how this day would end? 

You could either end up being heartbroken or happier than ever with a new mate, and with the way he always treated you, you don’t really feel like you have another happy ending incoming. It feels more like the start of the end. 

And besides, you thought about him only but Taehyung told you to think of yourself first: would you even accept him if he actually comes to tell you that he wants to pursue something with you? 

Would you let in someone who is not afraid to put everyone’s safety in danger just for selfish reasons? You’re trying to push the thoughts far from you for now. 

Live the moment and see what can happen: whatever happens, you’ll be able to say that you tried your best until the end. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi sighs and looks over to Taehyung, worry written over both their faces. You were just about to speak when Jungkook chimes in. 

“C’mon Tae, let them talk. I’ll explain everything to you.” 

The youngest stands up and presses a soft kiss onto your cheek before taking his boyfriends hand and walks back into the locker room. He sends you one last wink, silently cheering for you and you smile quietly. What do you have to fear when whatever happens, you’ll always have your soulmates cheering for you?

Yoongi swipes his hair out of his face, exposing his stern eyebrows before looking at you. God, he feels like an asshole. He knows that, technically, he has been one, but he never thought it would come to the point that he would knowingly hurt his soulmate. He always hides behind the fact that he’s in love with Hoseok, but that didn’t give him the right to hurt you. He should have at least told you…

“Sit down, please.” His voice is rough, almost exhausted but also sounds… painful? Distressed?

Slowly, you take place next to him, trying not to touch his leg, trying not to touch him at all. You’re still confused if you want to have anything to do with him to be honest with yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, barely whispering as you lower your gaze, avoiding his cat-like eyes that are probably full on judging you right now. 

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, watching you confused. 

“Why? You couldn’t have known that this would happen, I couldn’t know - otherwise I wouldn’t be doing that job. I mean, I’m the one that should be apologizing in the first place. I should have handled everything differently, and the only thing that I can do now is to explain, but… Yeah, the thing is, I don’t believe in soulmates.” He quiets down for a short amount of time, creating a break between his words to gauge your reaction, but you don’t seem to be that surprised.

For some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him. He knows he has done enough damages but he wishes for a reaction rather than your expressionless face. “I don’t think that fate should be the one to select your forever and always, do you get what I mean? Of course, I’m pissed about the fact that I got mated to you, but it’s not you that makes me hate being mated. You have done nothing wrong and I’ve been taking my frustrations out on you, and I know it’s wrong but... It’s just… I’m in love with some fucking stupid red haired baker that loves to add too many star-sprinkles on top of cupcakes and…” It clicks too easily in your mind as those words leave his mouth. It doesn’t excuse him, but you finally understand why everything has been this way.

“You’re… You’re in love with Hobi...” You didn’t expect it yourself, but a big grin takes place on your face as you clap your hands excitedly. Just the fact that you finally understand what is going on is making you- not really happy but - something along the lines. Once more, Yoongi is confused, it’s not the reaction he thought he would get. Not at all.

“Yes, but…  Shouldn’t you be mad or jealous or something? I mean, not that I expect you to be, I’ve been nothing but an ass to you, but, that’s how I felt once you got mated to Taehyung and Jungkook, even though it’s my own fault… If I hadn’t changed your appointment…” 

He catches how your glance suddenly changes at this information. You don’t seem to be mad, nor surprised, but you’re acknowledging what he says, as if you had already considered this idea. “Anyways, I mean…  Aren’t you mad that I don’t want to be your mate?” 

You shrug your shoulders, not sure what to answer. It’s quite a dumb question. Of course you are. Of course you are hurt. It feels like you’re not good enough for him. But… You try to understand his side, and you're not sure how you would feel if you had been in love with someone for like, forever, and you suddenly have to accept and love someone else. It seems like something that you would have had a hard time carrying yourself, so who are you to judge him, or to be mad at him? 

“It’s rude, I guess. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the most wanted human on earth for sure. It kind of feels like I suck so much that my own soulmate doesn’t feel like they can care or love me. So, the question is kind of easy to answer, I’d rather say that it stings, but who am I to be mad at you? I see your point of view and I’ve already got four mates that are caring and loving - three more mates than I thought I’d have. I never thought that I would have more than one soulmate. I’m always surrounded with love when I’m with them, so I'd say that knowing that there’s another man running around with my tattoo - a tattoo that means so much to me - is just overwhelming, knowing that you don’t want me as a soulmate hurts, but I’ll get over it if that’s what you choose, we’ll just have to be careful with our health because I’m not putting my mates’ safety in danger for you own comfort. Maybe we are soulmates to understand things and not to live them together. It does happen sometimes. I do agree with you, fate shouldn’t be the one to decide - but in our case, fate is just suggesting who to choose, don’t you think so? You decided against choosing me and we are still alive. Besides, I don’t…,” You seem to hesitate for a second, “I don’t feel a bond between us and you probably don’t feel that either.” 

You feel a bit bitter to lie like that. You didn’t feel it until today. Until you realized who he was to you. But you guess that you shouldn't try to make him change his decision. 

“But I do.” Yoongi whispers, finally looking up from the hole in his jeans. 

He tries to read you, but you’re not easily opening up anymore. He feels like it’s his fault, but he still sees that glimmer of hope inside of your eyes, and trustfully, it kills him, because he just wants to give in right now. Yoongi wants to be held, to be loved, anything. 

He just wants to feel. If he doesn’t accept you, would he ever get another chance again? Would there be another human soul accepting his own broken one?

“I fucking do feel bonded to you, Y/N. That’s the problem. I don’t want to smile whenever I feel you around. I don’t want to feel happy when I see your smile. And I don’t want to suffer just because I see you kissing Taehyung or Jungkook - even if you smile at them instead of me, it hurts. I want to be loved, I want to love. But the only person that exists for me is Hoseok. I’ve loved him since I was 16, but fucking fate destroyed  - I mean, not destroyed, wrong choice of words but - my chance of being mated to him disappeared for me that day. The man I’m in love with is mated to someone else, and now even I’m mated to someone else. How do you think it feels like to be rejected by the only person you’ve been interested in? And then there’s your soulmate, you’re supposed to love her, to be everything she’s waiting for, to care and be there for her and a month later she’s suddenly mated to four other men. What does the fabulous fate want me to do? Get into a polyamorous relationship with four men and one woman? Being not the third but the sixth wheel? I don’t think so.” 

You nod, slowly understanding his issues because that’s how you felt just a few weeks ago. From your dreams of a soulmate that would be your one and unique love, to your new reality composed of four men, who are absolutely amazing, do not kid yourself but, it’s so different from anything you thought would happen. It took you some time to accept what was happening, to accept four men who you’re supposed to be a lost part of their soul. 

You don’t really like the idea of being broken without your soulmates, but it feels just right when you’re with them. In a way, you understand why people came to say that. Because it’s so powerful that it’s hard to define it differently. 

Just like how Yoongi said that fate destroyed his chances with Hobi. 

You understand. Because it’s overwhelming, it’s new. It feels like no one can help you out. However, you have your soulmates. It’s been the five of you to get through it and to start your relationship. Yoongi on his side, he has no one to talk to. 

So, honestly? You understand him, as weird as it sounds. Even you, at some point, think that it isn’t right, that you shouldn’t be so understanding: you should be mad. You even thought about rejecting him if he wanted to pursue anything with you after all of that but now all your anger seems to have faded away. 

Yoongi was expecting it from you too. But no. You aren’t. You’re just glad that he finally decided to talk and to stop running away from you. You don’t want to prevent him from doing anything, you just want to be here for him, at least. He is not alone, and he will always be able to count on you. Maybe you’re meant to be soulmates in a… friendzone kind of way.

“I know, Yoongi. I get it, don’t worry. I mean, I probably should be mad, but I understand. I don’t want to force you into anything, you are your own person with your own belief and choices. I’m not your soulmate to berate you, or to be annoying or whatever. You’re just, not alone in this, you know? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything with me or to get involved with me- but don’t you think you deserve love? Because... I think you do. Maybe love is what you need to get rid over the thought of Hobi being out of your reach? You need love to start a life where you only care about what the future holds, someone that helps to pull you out of that dark place. Crying and being upset over his bond with Jin won’t make your life easier. It would actually be the other way around. Maybe you need to let go, Yoongi. And once again, I’m not asking you to accept us. I mean, we don’t even know if you’re meant to be with the four other men in my life, and I know that Jungkook and Taehyung might not be your types, I thought so too when I realized that Jimin and Namjoon were a part of this too, but I gave them a chance, and I think that one chance might change everything. You already know all of them and I think that it is safe to believe that your two coworkers are your closest friends by now. You trust them, you take care of them even though you might not want to accept that. The bond doesn’t feel like we are forced to love each other, okay? It just happened and I don’t regret it. But it’s your decision, Yoongi. And I won’t take it away from you, just know that if you ever decide to accept me, accept us, then-” 

And then, he kisses you.

Yoongi kisses differently from what you would have expected. He wasn’t soft, shy or holding back anything. His kisses are hungry, frustrated and maybe a little bit aggressive.

This time, the bond didn’t feel like fireworks or butterflies in your stomach, it was more like an explosion full of bad energy that rushed over into your body. 

Yoongi grabs your face, pulling you even closer and as you put your hands on his cheeks, you feel them. Tears are spilling out of his eyes, the feeling of being complete finally settling into your bodies. It is amazing how a simple action holds so many consequences and feelings. It feels like you did something amazing, while you just kissed.

Once Yoongi breaks the kiss, he pulls you onto his lap, hugging you tightly whilst his body still slightly shakes from being overwhelmed. 

“It’s alright, Yoongi. We’re here, we’re together. You have all of us on your side,” you coo, trying to calm him down as you run your finger through his messy hair. 

He’s not alone, he has never been but if he never realized it and you’re going to change that. He’s going to be loved and cherished as much as he lets you. 

You’ll give him anything, you know it sounds desperate, but you feel so much for him. Goodness, he changed everything upside down in one kiss and one talk. 

You kind of hate it, but at the same time, it feels right. Maybe Yoongi is in it to prove to you that fate doesn’t do it all. You have to fight for your mates too. You can’t be given everything, love and trust is something that you gain. 

You’re starting to feel exhausted because of the ride you just did. You went from anger to pain, to despair, to anger again, to shyness, to compassion and finally you’re here, hugging your missing soulmate. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Yoongi whispers, eyes still spilling tears onto your shirt. “I treated you like shit, yet here you are, ready to soothe my pain.”

“Don’t, Yoongi. That was the past. Now we’re here. The healing begins.” You smile soothingly as his arms wrap tightly around you. He keeps on letting apologies fall from his lips and you don’t think that he listens to you when you tell him to stop. He doesn’t need to apologize, you understand him. However, if he feels like he has to, you’ll let him. You’ll give him all the reassurances he needs to walk further with you. 

Seconds later, Jungkook and Taehyung run back into the lobby, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. “What happened, Y/N? I just got a love boner and that wasn’t because Tae and I were basically-” 

“Oh, fuck it, Jungkook,” Tae groans. Then, his eyes fall on you and Yoongi, still embraced in a tight hug.

“Fuck, you did it, love.” His smile was generous, heartwarming and you just know he isn’t mad about the fact that you decided to love one more person. 

Quite the contrary, Taehyung is a perceptive man. He doesn’t really want to tell anyone, but he had known it. He knew it would end up like that, and he can’t wait for the time when you and all your soulmates will be able to be together and walk toward a better future. On the other side, Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, disbelief visible in his eyes. 

“Yoongi, the fuck? You just said that you would never want her, minutes later you’re having her on your lap? Wow.” You feel the jealousy that washes over Jungkook, the boy doesn’t like sharing you, you are his baby, his best friend and his mate. He was fine that you were being mated to his soulmates, but Yoongi doesn’t belong to him. 

He doesn’t know if he would want him to be his as well, or if he’s just jealous that you give love to someone else, especially someone that just made you cry. Taehyung told him how he found you and Jungkook was not happy. Either way, he doesn’t like it too much.

“Jungkook,” you sigh as you press a chaste kiss on top of Yoongi’s hair before sitting down next to him, patting the free spot. “Can you guys sit down? We should probably talk.”

After all of you talked and came down from the emotional roller coaster, the atmosphere was much calmer. 

“I’m not kissing any of you, just to make that clear.” Yoongi looks at the two men, scrunching his nose in disgust. 

“I wouldn’t want to kiss you anyway.” Jungkook mumbles, earning a kick against his shin from you. “Stop it, Jungkook. You’re gay as fuck and Yoongi is good looking, of course you want to kiss him. I would,” Taehyung shrugs as he grins at the eldest. 

“I’m not gay, I’m bi. There’s a difference, because I like boobies too.” Jungkook pouts, looking at you to help him, but you just laugh, shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to kiss everyone, Jungkook, nor do you have to, Yoongi. It’s fine. Even though I’ve got to tell you that Taehyung is an amazing kisser. But maybe, one day it’ll happen. I didn’t kiss Jimin and Namjoon on the same day I kissed Taehyung and Jungkook either. But we have each other, and that’s what prevails.” 

Yoongi hasn’t felt that complete in a long time, yet here he is: happy. And strangely enough, he can’t wait to see what the future will bring. 

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[jaskierswolf]

The (un)Helpful Mage (Pt.3/3)

Previous _____

Months turned into years into decades.

The bard and the witcher were still travelling together and if you were to meet them on the road you might believe that they were still cursed. After years of practice they danced around each other, never getting in each other’s way nor moving further than about twenty feet from each other. It was as if they could predict the other’s movements and adjust accordingly.

In fact, after decades of travelling together, the two men still believed they were cursed. They had no desire to be separated and those who wished ill against them had been warned about tearing the White Wolf from his Nightingale. Only death came to those who tried.

“Geralt.” The bard, Master Jaskier, whined as the two men entered a small tavern just a few days ride from Posada. “My feet are about to drop off. If you don’t get us a room then I am leaving you, dear heart. I will get a nice house in Toissant with an even nicer wine cellar and perhaps an even nicer spouse to keep my bed warm.”

The witcher, Geralt of Rivia, scoffed and tilted his head as he smiled warmly at his bard. “Nice try, bard, but we both know that can’t happen.”

Jaskier twirled a lock of his chestnut hair in his fingers. It now fell down to just below his chin in soft waves, he’d given up cutting it a few years ago whilst on a particularly long trek through the forests beside the witcher whilst they were chasing after Ciri. The decision to let it grow had been encouraged by whispers in his ear after dark whilst the witcher’s hands tugged at the growing strands of hair.

“Ah yes. The blasted curse.” The bard fell dramatically against Geralt who caught him with ease.

Geralt rolled his eyes but seemed content to hold the troubadour in his arms.

“Someone once called it a blessing.” Geralt muttered.

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me now, witcher.” Jaskier placed a long elegant finger on the witcher’s nose. “We both know I have all the poetic talent in this relationship.”

Geralt opened his mouth to say something but the troubadour’s finger slipped from the witcher’s nose to his lips, effectively silencing him. The other patrons of the tavern watched the whole interaction with unabashed curiosity. They had heard of the bard who was not afraid of witchers, the bard who teased them and bossed them about as if he were a dragon and not a lowly human. It was different hearing the stories to seeing them in person. Every person in the tavern watched the new arrivals with bated breath.

“Limericks about Lambert do not count, dear heart.” Jaskier chided. “No matter how accurate they may be.”

The witcher smirked at the man in his arms and promptly dropped him. The bard’s arms scrambled to keep a hold on Geralt’s neck and it barely managed to stop himself from landed on his arse.

“Geralt!” He pouted up at the witcher as he clung from his neck, his knees lax and feet still unstable on the ground. To everyone’s surprise, Geralt of Rivia laughed and leant down to kiss the bard on the lips. His arms wrapped around the troubadour’s waist to steady him and Jaskier practically melted against the witcher’s chest.

The stories didn’t do it justice.

A wave of hushed whispers rose up in the tavern, all eager to discuss what they had just seen with their own eyes.

In the corner of the tavern was a robed figure, a mage and their beloved wife.

“Carwyn?” The woman with eyes like rich molten chocolate whispered to her partner. “The curse has not lifted?” She seemed distraught by this revelation.

Carwyn closed their eyes and inhaled deeply and then shook their head, a strand of greying auburn hair falling in front of their face. “I think it has, my dove.” They laughed gently. “They don’t appear to have noticed.”

“We must tell them!”

Carwyn shook their head and squeezed Amala’s arm. “My love, please distract the witcher for me.”

Amala stood up and gently guided the witcher from the bar with tales of monsters and a contract. Carwyn intercepted Jaskier by asking the bard about his latest ballads and the tubes of parchment that he’d begun to carry on his back. The troubadour was easily flattered and at times narcissistic so he was led away from the witcher with no real effort on the mage’s part.

Jaskier followed Carwyn towards the bank of the river that the tavern stood beside, talking about rhymes and chord progressions and the intricacies of his music that only a trained ear could pick up but even a fool could love.

Carwyn hummed thoughtfully in the right places and prompted the bard to continue whenever his gaze began to drift behind them. They were about twenty five feet away from the tavern when the bard stopped abruptly.

“Isn’t that right Geralt?” He spun round to ask with a charming smile on his face. The smile quickly faded as he noticed the witcher was nowhere to be seen. “Geralt?!”

The bard began to panic and Carwyn realised they had made a terrible mistake as they suddenly had a knife pressed to their throat. “You tricked me!” The bard spat out, his cornflower blue eyes were blazing furiously. The man may be approaching his fifties but he was not as weak as he seemed. “Where is Geralt, Mage?”

Carwyn closed their eyes. “There is no trick, bard.” They said as calmly as possible but the knife dug deeper into their neck.

“How is this possible?” The troubadour hissed. “I’ve never been this far away from him. Never! It’s just not possible! Don’t you understand?!”

“It was my curse, Master Jaskier, or my blessing as I once told your witcher.” The knife fell to the ground and Carwyn kicked it away with their foot. “When was the last time you tried to leave Master Geralt?”

The bard watched the mage with a curious, thoughtful expression. “I was kidnapped. Bandits. They didn’t get very far. After fifteen feet it was as if I was too heavy for them to carry, not to mention Geralt came screaming after me. They died in pools of their own blood.” Jaskier laughed darkly. “It only happened once more after that before people stopped trying.”

“And when did you and your witcher become a couple?” The mage asked.

Jaskier laughed with a toss of his hair. “Oh well. We were rather more oblivious to that one. It was about three years into our acquaintance. Geralt almost died after he saved the Princess of Temeria from a curse and I, being the fool that I am, blurted out that he couldn’t just die because I loved him! It was bad enough that he’d locked me in a crypt all night to keep me safe and then he went and got himself mortally wounded. If Triss Merigold hadn’t been there then, well, I’m afraid our story would have a rather different ending, but anyway. It turned out that Geralt loved me too and we’ve been disgustingly in love since.”

“You’ve been a couple for over two decades?” Carwyn asked with a hint of surprise in their voice. “You’ve not been more than twenty feet apart for over two decades?”

The bard stuck his tongue out and counted back the years on his fingers. “No?” The word was drawn out as if he didn’t quite believe his calculations. “No. That can’t be right? We must have at least gotten close. We would have felt it.”

Carwyn shook their head. “Perhaps I should have cursed you so you couldn’t be within twenty feet of each other.”

“What? No? You can’t do that. Geralt?!” The bard shouted as the door of the tavern flung open to reveal an incredible irate witcher.

“Jaskier!” The two men embraced tightly and the witcher glared ferociously at the mage. “I knew I recognised you from somewhere. You little shit!”

Carwyn smiled serenely at the witcher, not at all showing their fear even though the witcher could have smelled it a mile off. “When you said fuck Destiny, witcher. I didn’t think you meant it literally.”

“Destiny?” The troubadour pulled back from the witcher’s embraced but his arm stay wrapped around his waist, Geralt was just as loathed to let his partner go but he kept one hand free just incase he needed to draw his sword.

The witcher hummed nonchalantly.

“Now now, don’t give me that. Geralt. What did they mean by Destiny?” Jaskier prodded Geralt in his chest.

Carwyn raised their eyebrow at the witcher. “You never told him?”

“It never came up.” Geralt grunted.

The bard looked between the mage and the witcher with a look of utter betrayal. “What never came up? What’s going on, darling?”

“The curse, or blessing,” Carwyn started to say.

“You’re my soulmate. Apparently. According to some shitty curse from when you were eighteen.” Geralt snapped quickly. “It’s bullshit.”

The bard’s eyes lit up. Bards were in their nature hopeless romantic and the thought of being bound to one’s soulmate was too much for the excitable poet. “Oh ho ho!”He laughed gleefully. “Oh Geralt, you brute! You never said! Just think of the possibilities, the ballads! I could write a play! I’d change the names of course. You know I hate being featured in my own work. Perhaps Yennefer wouldn’t mind, you know my adoring public can’t get enough of your romantic exploits with the beautiful sorceress!”

“There are no romantic exploits and you know it, bard.” Geralt rolled his eyes but his protests fell on deaf ears.

“Soulmates!” Jaskier sighed. “You’ve been holding out on me, my love.”

Geralt hummed.

“Yes yes. I know. You knew how I would react but Geralt!” The troubadour pulled his lute from off his back and began to try out rhymes and rhythms.

The mage followed the pair back into the tavern and as they began to barter with the barkeep about a room, the mage nodded at their wife.

It had taken over twenty years for their spell to pay off but they had finally repaid the witcher for the debt they owed him. _______

More witcher fun!

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 35

Negan didn’t take Carl and me somewhere and ditch our bodies after beating our brains out with his best girl, Lucille. Sadly. Instead, he took us on a road trip. Back to Alexandria. He regaled us, the entire way there with all the ways that he COULD have killed Carl. How he could have forced me to have to watch him put down my baby brother for daring to attack as he had.

I let his bullshit roll over me. I’m learning, slowly, that Negan loves the sound of his own voice. And he truly adores putting fear into the hearts of those who allow it. Instead, I watch out the windshield as we drive along the road. Abandoned cars. A smattering of walkers. And the feeling of being fully aware of everything for the first time in a long time.

When we arrive at the gates, no one dares to stop us from coming inside. With both Carl and me at his side, Negan makes his way to Dad’s house. And, instead of walking in like he owns the place, which I’d expected, he knocks. Olivia, the woman who’d kept the inventory for the armory and pantry answered, and I wondered if she was my replacement in my former house.

I can’t remember having much interaction with her before, when I was still an Alexandrian. It doesn’t strike me as very strange how intimidated she seems by Negan. He’s a hard pill to swallow when he’s trying to play therapist, but when he’s just being himself, well then you see an asshole in full bloom. She tries to get rid of us, because whether she understands or not, Negan and I are a matched set right now. She tells Negan that Dad is out scavenging, that he probably won’t be back by the end of today. I wonder if Michonne went with him, and that’s why she’s here, to watch my baby sister.

She talks about how they’re low on supplies, how they’re practically starving, and then Negan shows just how fucking charming he is. A raised eyebrow. He looks her up and down and insults her by insinuating that since she’s curvy, that he doubts her sincerity. And, yes, I’m editing his bullshit, because it was disgustingly mean. He catches my eye, and sees my glare, so he tries his hand at apologizing.

Of course, this is Negan we’re talking about so once he tries to say sorry in his own classy way, he follows up with an offer that has me rolling my damn eyes. “I think it would be enjoyable to screw your brains out. I mean if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.” Dear fucking Christ, does he have a filter at all?

And Olivia, who I can’t recall much about, does something that has me fucking grinning from ear to ear. She slaps him straight across his smug, arrogant face. The crack makes my heart sing.

Negan ruins the fucking experience by telling her, after she rocks his fucking head on his shoulders with that slap, “I’m about fifty percent more into you now. Just saying.” Ugh. Seriously? He catches whatever look I have on my face, smirks at me, and winks. Could he be more crude and annoying?

He dismisses her, letting her leave his royal presence to fix lemonade that he knows he left behind. Powered lemonade is his newest whim, and I wonder if Olivia had it in her to fucking poison him.

Of course, we couldn’t just drop my little brother off at home, get back in the damn box-truck, and head the fuck back from whence we came. Now, where would Negan’s fun be in that?

Olivia, acting as though I’m an enemy too, stays in the house as Negan takes a grand tour. Taking off his boots, testing the carpet in Carl’s room with his bare feet, I have to wonder if he’s truly enjoying the feel of it because of the novelty, or if he’s checking to see if wiping his bare ass across it would cause him discomfort. Watching the steady stream of water as though he’s never had it before. He looked around what had been my room with interest. Uncomfortable interest, as though he’d find something more about me. Good luck.

And then, as we passed the room where Judith sleeps, he goes to open the door and I shake my head and tell him it’s just another empty room. He squints at me, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Really?” I ask him, raising my eyebrow. “Why are you interested in empty rooms?”

He calls my bluff and opens the door, and there she is. My little sister, the ONLY thing I regret leaving behind. And the ONE person in the world that I wanted to protect, from him, from the world at large and he’s found her.

“Oh my!” He doesn’t raise his voice, as he draws nearer to her, and handing Carl his precious Lucille, he almost seems in awe of her. “Look at this little angel.” And then she’s in his arms, and he’s being incredibly gentle with her, as he looks over her sweet blonde curls at me. His tenderness is a surprise, even if he’d never shown me the mean streak I knew ran in him.

Judith is holding a stuffed elephant as he bounces her gently in his arms. He takes a minute to study her, and then looks once again at me. And I wonder at the clear question in his eyes. What could Negan possibly want with this? With Dad’s life? With mine?

Negan makes himself at home in Dad’s house. He shaves with Dad’s straight razor, giving Carl advice like “against the grain, always go against the grain”. He’d handed Judith to me before he went into the bathroom, and I started to turn away, to take her somewhere alone, but he stopped me. “No, sweetheart, you both stay.” Shooting a look at my brother he corrects himself. “All three of you stay.” Which is why I’m having my unscheduled visit with my baby sister in full view of the man I’d assumed would kill me.

While he’s shaving, giving out advice to Carl, he keeps watching me with her. As I quietly talk to her, running my hand down her soft curls, and checking her for signs that she missed me. Even a tiny bit. I can’t stop myself from kissing her head. From entertaining her with her stuffed animal. And I work hard to block out Negan’s interest. Pretending that he’s not filing my reactions away for another round of my therapy when we head back to his domain.

He fixes dinner. Spaghetti sauce from scratch. Noodles, obviously. And he enlists Carl to make rolls. Me? For once, since I offered myself in Glenn’s place, he allowed me to sit at the dining room table and have peace away from him. Still in view, of course, but at a distance. With Judith. And get lost in her, if only for a little bit.

Olivia returned with the lemonade, and I could feel her glaring at me. Her urge to grab Judith from my arms, to keep her safe from ME was clear as a bell on her face. I could also tell that Negan had noticed. “Be a lamb, Olivia, be a lamb.” He was reiterating what he’d said when he requested the lemonade earlier, only now the term that I’d taken as a taunt to the other woman, took on a new meaning. A warning, I could hear it in his voice. A threat, a reminder of who he was, and that I was with him was so evident that she rushed into the kitchen to make the drink.

Once dinner was prepared, we settled around the table, looking for all the world like a family dinner with a tinge of hostage situation. There’s an extra place setting, but I’m so wrapped up in my baby sister that I don’t pay attention to the why. I’d kept Judith on my lap, but we didn’t start to eat. Negan, clearly waiting for something, or someone. And I knew, he was holding dinner for Dad. A picture he’d created, a scene that would fuck with Dad’s head a little bit more. His children, a member of his community, and the very man who’d bested him, around his very own dining room table with a meal fit for a Sunday dinner from before the world turned to shit.

Negan has the patience of a toddler. Eventually he realized that Dad wasn’t going to return just because he’d set the stage. He finally gave in and asked Carl to pass the rolls. I hated to admit it, and I damn sure wouldn’t let him know, but he made a sauce that rivaled the Italian place that I’d loved while at college. I fed Judith from her own plate. I drank a bit of the lemonade that Olivia had made. And I tried, very hard, to ignore the feeling that Negan was watching me closely.

After eating, Negan decided it was perfect weather to sit on the porch and take in the scenery. He held out his arms, once he’d taken off his jacket, and I reluctantly handed Judith back to him. He took one chair and Carl took another. Negan looked like he was enchanted by my little sister. That in her he saw something that he hadn’t seen in far too long. Did I trust it? That he wasn’t dangerous to her? No. I didn’t. Not because he’d shown violence to me or her, but because the need to keep her safe. The need to make sure that she remained innocent of the world and its dangers was one of the few things that I’d never felt numb to was amplified by my mask developing the cracks that Negan’s meddling had created.

I leaned against the banister in front of them. Close to Negan, since she was in his arms, and I hadn’t noticed that Carl’s eyes were taking in my behavior, and Negan’s.

“So my sister doesn’t get to sit?” He bit out, glaring with his one unruined eye. “She has to stay quiet, she has to just blindly follow you around?”

I closed my eyes to his challenge. He didn’t get it. And I had a feeling no one, not even the rest of my family understood. Why I’d done it, why I had to stay beside him. Carl didn’t see me. No better than anyone else had. Dad had only had a glimpse, and even he didn’t get it.

“Have you seen me order her to stand?” Negan asked. “Have you seen me tell her not to look at you or speak to you?” He was challenging my brother’s assumptions. “Jesus, were you this fucking blind before you lost your eye?” I opened my eyes to see him cradling Judith to his chest. His voice stayed low, quite even, careful not to scare her. “I’ve been thinking about what you’d said earlier, Carl. Maybe it is stupid keeping you and your dad alive.” He pulled Judith forward, bouncing her on his knee and seemingly speaking to her. “I mean why am I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down there in those flower beds.” A gesture to the manicured lawn in front of us. He was staring into Judith’s tiny face, smiling and chuckling. “And then I can just settle in the suburbs.”

My heart clenched. Fear blossoming in my chest at the thought that my deal with him was all for nothing. That my brother’s actions, that his clear challenge of Negan’s power and his seeming inability to wipe all of us out was a sign that he was weak.

We’d gone back inside Dad’s house. Negan grew tired of taunting my brother and the neighbors. Judith was fussy, too much excitement I’d guessed. He’d given her back to me, watching as I rocked her in my arms and hummed to her. He followed me upstairs to put her down for her nap. Ignoring the dagger glare of Olivia, ignoring Carl’s unasked questions, the hurt that had flickered across his face when he decided that my silence was my own choice.

I was staring down at Judith as she drifted off to sleep clutching her elephant. Leaving her, today, would be more painful than my realization that I'd given her up for the ‘greater good’ had been. Holding her, feeling the rush of feelings that I’d gone numb to, the unconditional love I had for her, made it all the rawer. He watched me, leaning in the doorway, keeping his distance, letting me have this at least.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the maternal type, Jessi.” He kept his voice down, so Judith could rest. “I didn’t know that you fucking had her here, that she depended on you.” I could feel the intensity of his attention. “That you sacrificed your need for HER when you offered your life to me.”

I hadn’t noticed the tear falling. Didn’t even feel the usual burn warning that I would cry. His thumb brushed it from my cheek, startling me since I hadn’t heard him come closer. I kept my head down, drinking in Judith’s tiny person. Savoring it, memorizing it, so I could take this little piece of her with me. “Do you want to stay?” It was barely a breath. “Jessi, do you want to stay?”

I shook my head. A deal was a deal. And I wasn’t a shirker. Plus, I’d seen the look on Olivia’s face. The judgement. The insinuation that I was a traitor. A turncoat. In bed, I imagined her look inferred, with the enemy.

“No, I don’t want to stay.” I answered, keeping my voice as quiet as he did. “There’s nothing left here for me, nothing aside from her.” I couldn’t stop myself from running my hand down her back. Touching the softness that I’d taken care of for so damn long. “And she has other people for that now, to keep her safe.” It hurt to acknowledge that I was so easily replaced. That Dad had handed her care, her safety over without effort.

He left me there, letting me have my quiet and solace in the company of a sleeping little girl that had become my only reason to keep the motions going. The only reason that I kept up my mask. The only reason that I’d survived, even if I wasn’t living.

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Twenty Two

Aerith Gainsborough has a gift. And that gift is talking people into doing something that they don’t want to do and making it feel like it was their idea in the first place. That’s the only reason Geralt can find for the fact that he’s sitting in a coffee shop on a Friday night, listening to slam poetry and geeks on guitars. 

There isn’t even beer here. No spiked ciders or even Irish coffee. It’s a fucking travesty, and every time he builds himself up to say something about it, Geralt looks down at the tiny woman with a grip on his arm, and he swallows it. 

Damn those eyes. 

I can hear the cannons calling, as though across a dream- 

Geralt pulls his sour gaze away from the top of Aerith’s head when he hears the first strains of the song. This wasn’t some hipster strumming along with a woeful little play at a folk song. There was something haunting in that voice that was drawing Geralt in. 

The sight that greets him isn’t so bad either. 

The man perched on the edge of the stool, a guitar propped on his knee was gorgeous. The line of his stong neck was curved as he looked down at clever, graceful fingers plucking at the strings. Brown hair brushed against his forehead, and when the singer looks up, Geralt feels a jolt in his gut. 

Like the singer is looking right at him. 

Distantly, he hears Aerith tell him that Cloud was there, a pat to his arm before she disappeared into the eclectic crowd. And any other night, this would have been the moment that Geralt left his seat and got the hell out of here. 

But he’s pinned to the spot now, trapped beneath the stare of incredibly blue eyes and a voice that curled against the base of Geralt’s spine and laid down roots. 

The song is sad, too weighty to just be called melancholy. It casts a spell over the room, most of the idle chatter and clinking of flatware and dishes falling away to the sound of it. And when it ends on a low, aching note, Geralt is pulled from the spell of it by the eruption of applause around the room. 

The singer smiles, and it changes his whole face. Gone was the melancholy boy singing about lost loves. Unfortunately for Geralt, what was in his place was a disgustingly good looking man. Why did people have to be both talented, and good looking? It was unnatural. 

Geralt watches him step down from the stage, cradling his guitar in his hands like it was something special, until he could slide it back into the soft case he had for it, propped up against the back wall of the coffee shop, far enough away from the lights of the makeshift stage that he wasn’t drawing attention away from the next person on the stage. (Geralt isn’t sure if it’s a man or a woman who’s taken up the stage now. He’d have to be able to look away from the singer to do that.)

Any thought Geralt might have stifled about going up and saying something to the singer is lost when people start to crowd around him. “Jaskier!” That’s Magnus, who owns the place, who swans up to the singer, this Jaskier and embraces him warmly, kissing both of his cheeks. “One of these days darling, I’m going to get you to play a happy song.”

Jaskier smiles, nose crinkling. “Oh, you know me Mags. Art is pain, et cetera, et cetera.” Jaskier waves the words away as Magnus turns back to answer a question from someone else. There was still a gaggle of people around Jaskier, and Geralt turns his glare down towards the Earl Grey in a steaming mug in his hands. 

Stupid. What would he even do with a pretty little thing like that? (The back of his mind has a few vivid, sweat soaked suggestions. Geralt ignores those.) Nothing. It’s not like they’d have anything in common. It would be pointless to talk to him in the first place, and it would only end badly if he did. 

Geralt downs the rest of his tea in three long scalding gulps and puts the mug down on the table. There was no reason for him to stay now, Aerith just liked the company on her walk over, and Geralt liked glaring at idiots who thought they might want to talk to her. She had her blonde boy there now, and Aerith would decide if she wanted him to walk her home. Which meant it was time for Geralt to go. 

“I love the way you just sit in the corner and...brood.” The words startle Geralt from his thoughts, and he looks up to find himself face to face with those stained glass blue eyes. Damn, Jaskier was quiet on his feet. (Or Geralt wasn’t paying enough attention to his surroundings.)

“I’m here because a friend doesn’t like to walk at night alone.” He’s here, right now, because he couldn’t stop looking at the man in front of him. Now Geralt just has to convince them both that it’s a load of horse shit. 

“Good. Right. Yes.” Jaskier takes a seat from the row in front of Geralt’s and straddles it, because Geralt’s life isn’t hard enough right now. (And his life isn’t the only thing that’s hard, either.) “Well. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance. Except you.” 

It shouldn’t be charming, the bastard going from group to group around the room to collect his praise for a song well done. And yet, here they are. 

“Come on.” It’s wheedling, Jaskier leaning the chair forward so that only two legs are still on the ground, his chin resting on his crossed arms. “You don’t want to keep a man with...bread in his pants waiting, now do you?”

Geralt knows better than to engage. He knows. And still the words leave his stupid mouth. “If that’s a metaphor, I don’t understand it.” 

Jaskier grins. “Oh no, I never joke about bread in my pants. Watch.” Geralt watches, because what the fuck else is a man supposed to do when he sees a twink wiggling on a chair to pull a flattened piece of pain au chocolat out of his pocket, still wrapped in the plastic wrap that Bilbo used for his treats. He waves the bread around and takes a hearty bite before he speaks again. “You must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

‘I want you’ are the first three words that come to mind. And as much as Geralt is starting to get the impression that it’s mutual, he’s not putting himself down that road. Fucking some out of towner was one thing, or the girls in the red light district. It was a means to an end, a way to scratch an itch. 

Fucking a local meant seeing them again. It meant feelings getting involved and everything getting messy. Geralt didn’t need anyone, and the last thing he wanted was someone needing him. “It’s not right.” There. Three words, and as polite a ‘fuck off’ as Geralt can manage. 

But the words don’t make Jaskier turn away. If anything, he leans in closer. Geralt subtly places the toe of his boot against the crossbar of Jaskier’s chair to keep it from dumping over forwards. Backwards, he couldn’t help with. “Ooh. Fun. Let me guess. Not a fan of love songs? Flowers? Go on, tell me.”

Bossy. Another thing that shouldn’t be charming but it was. Geralt watches him for a long beat, but the withering stare that seemed to drive people off in droves wasn’t doing a damn thing right about now. “It’s still a lie. Even if no one hears it, you’re still lying to yourself.” Geralt would know. He’s lied to himself more than he’s ever lied to anyone else. 

Jaskier, for some bizarre reason, lights up at the words. “Oh, a pedantic. This is so much better than my guess of repressed heterosexual.” Geralt scoffs, but he’s fighting a smile as he does it. Damn it all to hell. 

“I’m not repressed.” He’s not heterosexual, either. There were too many good looking people in this world to fuck to leave it just to one side or the other. His mother taught him to clean his plate when he was a boy. Geralt took that missive through all aspects of his life.

“You’re not? Well that’s good to know. You’re also very rumbly.” Jaskier gives him a thumbs up before he tears the smashed remains of his croissant in half and offers it out to Geralt. “If I lure you in with sweets, will you tell me your name?”

Geralt makes a low hum of a sound in his chest, to pretend like he was thinking about it. He plucks the piece of chocolate croissant from the cling wrap and pops it into his mouth. “No.” 

“No?” That earns him a bright huff of laughter from Jaskier. “You sir, are a scoundrel and a cad. If I have to lower myself to your nefarious levels to find out your name, then so be it.” Jaskier leans back in his chair and calls across the room. “Oy! Magnus!” There’s a moment before Magnus turns away from a customer, brow raised. “You know his name?”

The entire fucking room is staring at them now. Geralt has never been the kind of man to shrink away, but he’s not a big fan of attention. There are too many eyes on him right now, including Magnus Bane’s bright eyes. God help him if Magnus mentions they’ve fucked. 

But surprisingly, Magnus doesn’t call back across the room. He just sends Bilbo’s little brunette assistant over, who grins at the both of them and hands Jaskier a napkin. Jaskier snaps it open, the way you would a newspaper, and hums. “Well well well. It seems you’ve been outmanuevered, my dear….Geralt.”

It’s been awhile since he’s heard his name pronounced correctly. The Mediterranien influence was strong here. They were far from his part of Europe. But he should have known a man named Jaskier would at least be within spitting distance of the parts of the world that Geralt grew up in. 

“Oh no.” Geralt’s delivery is flat, as is his expression. “I’ve been found out.”

And he’s never going to admit how much he enjoys the peal of laughter it gets him. Damn it all to hell. “It’s true.” Jaskier nods along solemnly, and Geralt can feel the weight of the chair against his toe. Jaskier would be flat on his face if Geralt wasn’t holding the chair in place. “I’m a master spy. James Bond often calls me for tips. But don’t blame me for his blasphemous taste in martinis. That’s all Jim.”

Jim. Geralt rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t do a fucking thing to deter the pretty little singer staring him down with those blue eyes. 

Geralt was in trouble. 

“I also taught him how to pick up beautiful, dangerous people.” Geralt wouldn’t consider himself dangerous, but the size of his arms tended to put that idea into people’s heads. 

Geralt cocks a brow at him. “When are you going to show me that?”

Jaskier holds a hand to his chest, leaning far back in the other direction. Geralt has to shift his foot quickly behind the cross bar to the chair to keep it from going over backwards. “Oh ho ho, the pretty boy has a sharp tongue! You wound me, sir.”

Fuck it. 

Geralt uses his foot on the chair to tip Jaskier back towards him, and he’s rewarded with a yelp. He catches the back of the chair with his hand, knuckles brushing against Jaskier’s forearm as he does. Leaning in himself, the next few words are only for the beautiful disaster in front of him. 

“I can show you what else this tongue can do.”

[dancingsparks]

How Laurent Got A Date Despite Being A Condescending Idiot

Thank you at my wonderful beta and the Capri Discord for inspiring me!

Also on Ao3

***

“I’ll go talk to him,” with a decisive nod, Vannes empties the last of her glass.

“Sure, if you think that would be fun. I won’t stop you.”

“Laurent, that was a threat. You were supposed to stop me and beg me not to, giving me the perfect opportunity to suggest you go over there. You have been drooling all evening and quite frankly, I am sick of it.” Laurent can feel himself blush as his eyes flit again to the man in question. It’s undeniable - he is very attractive. He is tall, a wild mess of dark curls on his head, ridiculously athletic and a warm laugh that reverberates through the entire room. However, Laurent had most definitely not been drooling over him. He glares at her for daring to suggest he would, receiving only a smirk.

“You do know how a threat works, right? It’s supposed to scare me into doing as you want. As I don’t care about him, there is nothing you could say to him that would make me want to go over there myself.”

“Okay, no threat then,” Vannes shifts in her chair, leaning closer to him, “let’s make it a challenge, shall we? I don’t think you have the guts to go over. I think you are scared to talk to him and would much rather sit here and whine later about the hot guy who didn’t talk to you.” She is right. Terribly, embarrassingly right and by the smug expression on her face she knows it too. Laurent throws his napkin at her. Vannes catches it and throws it right back, but this time Laurent doesn’t catch it, too caught up in staring at the ‘hot guy’. He is talking to a friend now, possibly a brother, laughing again, drawing Laurent in like a moth to the flame - helpless and doomed to burn.

Not only has she terrifying insight in his motivation, Vannes knows exactly what she is doing when she phrases it as a challenge - Laurent was never able to resist one of those and the wretched woman knows that all too well. “I don’t even know what to say to him, I will make a complete fool out of myself and he will laugh me in the face.”

“Nonsense, the room is full of very important and very sophisticated people. He would discreetly make fun of you with his friends after you left.” Laurent turns back to her, glaring. This doesn’t help his nerves at all, or her cause. “Look darling, this is one of those charity functions that few know the purpose of. He won’t be interested in what you have to say. Tell him you have money, tell him it’s more than you know what to do with. You are pretty, you are rich - that is all it takes here. Just smile, say something obnoxiously witty and throw your money around.”

That is not what Laurent wants to do at all. He is only here because Auguste asked him to and he is weak when it comes to his brother. There are very good reasons Auguste will inherit the company and Laurent will be his adviser. One being that Laurent is not good at dealing with shallow people, with this kind of events, smiling through insults and pretending to care. Neither is Auguste, but the difference is that he is utterly charming about it, it’s impossible not to like him.

“Why would I want to do that, exactly?”

“Because I dared you to. Now go.” She gives him a rather strong push, winks at him and orders a new drink as an have an excuse to flirt with the bartender. Laurent sighs. He knows he is being played, he isn’t stupid, and she couldn’t have made it more blatant. He should just stay here, defy her expectations and save his dignity. All the same Laurent stands up, cursing himself for being predictable and easy to manipulate, yet determined to make the best of it.

Thankfully the man is alone by the time Laurent reaches him - this will be painful enough without people to witness him. Laurent takes a deep breath, reminds himself of Vannes’s advice and puts on a bright smile.

“Hey there, what is someone as beautiful as you doing all alone?” Laurent cringes internally at the corny line, but the man rewards him with a warm chuckle that makes something flutter in chest. Perhaps it’s his heart, beating faster than it should, loud and surely audible to everyone else in the room.

“I could ask you the same. Why don’t you join me, remedy this situation for both of us?” His smile is even brighter up close, small and amused but sincere, revealing dimples that give him a cheeky charm. He is irresistible, and Laurent agrees before he can stop himself.

“I’m Damen, what’s your name? I don’t think I have seen you around before, I would have remembered.” There is something suggestive about his tone, stealing Laurent’s breath and making him blush. This is not how this was supposed to go, Laurent was supposed to be the charming and suave one, making him flustered and stumbling over his words. All Damen had to do was smile at him. Desperately he clings to what Vannes told him, to what these people always do when they have an unexpected problem: throw money at it.

“Laurent DeVere. Pleased to meet you,” wide smile here. “I’m sure you heard of my family - we are very wealthy.”

Damen laughs at that, throwing his head back, expressing his amusement with a full body laugh. Laurent is afraid he said something wrong but then Damen smiles at him, soothing the worry and replacing it with pride at making him laugh like that, like no one else did this evening, like he would like to do again. “Laurent DeVere, allow me to say the pleasure is all mine.”

The phrase is often used and seldom meant but considering the way Damen holds his eyes, speaking in an earnest tone, Laurent thinks he might mean it. Or maybe he is a fool charmed by pretty eyes and a bright smile. Laurent doesn’t care either way - he is having more fun right now than the rest of his time at this dreadful thing, so he would not question it now.

“So, Damen, do you often frequent charity events?” Damen gives him a considering look, as if confused, but Laurent keeps his smile up. It was a normal question, there is no reason to be weird about it. Except if Damen doesn’t - oh no, what if Damen is here as someone’s plus one? Not invited personally because he doesn’t have the money to donate or the importance to be seen here. Now Laurent is forcing him to admit to something one would like to hide here. He is about to apologise but Damen is faster.

“Not as many as I would like, I am very busy you see.” Busy - of course. Laurent doesn’t believe him, but he would also not question him further, he humiliated the poor man enough for an evening. But there is something he could do to make it up to him - he gets invited to more events than he cares to count and if Damen wants to go, it would only be right to invite him along.

“You know, I could take you with me, to the next event. I always get terribly bored - but with you as my arm candy-” Laurent stops when he realises what he is saying. Trying to make it look intentional, he puts on the most pretentious expression he can muster - which is incredibly and disgustingly pretentious in his humble opinion - and gives Damen a cocky smirk. Once again Damen watches him steadily, a small smile curling his lips but his eyes clearly calculating.

“I don’t know-” Damen begins but Laurent interrupts him. He came too far to back off now.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I could send you a car if you need one. It would be very rude of me not to take care of my guest,” he is imitating his father when he is lecturing him about something, tone stern and face serious, but he adds a smile at the end because he really does want Damen to say yes. To Laurent’s surprise, he enjoys talking to Damen, despite the restrictions laid upon him, and would like to get to know him further. Ideally not in such a stiff and proper environment, but he will take whatever he can get.

“Alright then, how could I say no to such an offer,” Laurent feels like he is missing something, like Damen is really laughing at him now, but he doesn’t care. Damen said yes and somehow that is all that is important.

“I have to excuse myself for a moment, promise not to move?” he takes Laurent’s hands in his, eyes pleading with him and giving the simple request more depth than it probably needs. Laurent can’t say no.

“I promise to wait if you promise to come back.” Damen smiles at him, squeezes his hand, presses a quick kiss to his cheek and leaves, gone in the crowd. Laurent misses him already.

Laurent sinks down at a nearby desk, settling down for the wait and trying to reason this out. It’s ridiculous, that he should be so affected by someone who is only interested because of his money. But then, Laurent did all he could to interest him in his money. Maybe he should use the next evening - decidedly not a date - to talk about other things, find out who Damen is and test if he is interested in finding out who he is in turn.

“If I could get your attention for a moment,” Laurent groans, a speech is the last thing he needs right now. But the voice is familiar, almost like - but that can’t be, impossible. Laurent looks up, seeing that it is indeed Damen standing in the middle of the crowd, a space cleared around him, microphone in hand and a bright smile on his face. What is he doing?

“I wanted to thank you all for coming to this event - it means a great deal to me and being allowed to host it has been a great honour. I am sure the money donated today will make many lives better. I would love to keep talking to you all, but I have a stunning blond who keeps flirting with me and I would like to get back to him and I am sure you have your own things to get back to.” Damen says some more about the charity and how they could help further if interested but Laurent isn’t listening. This is mortifying! Humiliating! He wishes the ground would open and swallow him. The closest he can get to that is hiding beneath the table, which is cowardly and disgraceful, but he would do anything to get away now, before Damen comes back.

Trying to subtly glide of his chair and under the table to where the long tablecloth would finally shield him only results in him falling on his knees as he loses his balance, ripping down the whole thing with everything on it, creating a huge crash and turning every eye on him. Fantastic. Whispers break out, muffled laughter and pitying looks, and Laurent wants away. This has been a terrible idea, he should leave and forget everything about Damen and this mess and blame everything on Vannes.

“What’s someone as beautiful as you doing all alone on the floor?” Laurent flinches as Damen repeats the corny line he had used on him, throwing in his face how he behaved. Laurent is still thinking on his reply when Damen sits down next to him, closer than necessary for a conversation but not quite touching. He looks at Damen in confusion, shouldn’t he be laughing at him right now?

“I meant it, I really would like to flirt some more.” Damen is smiling, as if it where that easy.

“You are hosting this party.” It comes out more accusing than he hoped, but accusing is better than crying so he goes with it. Damen does looks appropriately scolded, blushing and fidgeting.

“Yes, I thought you knew. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Despite what his head tells him, Laurent, foolish and naive and hopeful, believes him. Damen is here, not laughing, sitting on the ground, surrounded by broken glass and spilled drinks, next to Laurent and smiling at him. It suddenly hits him that he could love this man, easily, that already he doesn’t want him to leave.

“I suppose I won’t have to take you to the next event then? That you will be invited yourself?” Laurent needs to know where they stand, if Damen even wants to be around him after the condescending way he behaved.

“No, and I don’t want to go anyway,” Laurent’s heart falls at that. Of course, he doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore. “I would much rather take you out on a date.”

Damen is smiling, small and crooked, dimple on his face and curls falling in his eyes.

How could Laurent say no?

[yourhero404]

Puppetry. (Theurgist Magician 2)

@shigarakiweek Day 3!! I decided to make this one a part two to one I wrote from last year’s event!

If you haven’t read Theurgist Magician from last years event, please do so!

Day 3: Royalty/Gods/Madness (Decided to mesh all three!) Word Count: 1,399 Description: Everything in life has a give or take. Sometimes, the fine print is too hard to read.

Polished silver crown upon his head—though it isn’t the sparkle that catches his eye.

The king, the Theurgist Magician, the ruler of the forbidden kingdom—Tomura stood among the members of his court, leaning against the war table in front of him. The tattered map sprawled across the surface held faded pictures of the kingdoms below—that damned golden kingdom disgustingly in the center. Hand crafted flags and pawns scattered about, marking who they own and where, where they were going to strike next, and signified their biggest threats.  

He played with the pawns, rolling them between his fingers while his eyes scanned his possibilities. His mind was as cold as his body, unnerving and calculative. He fell into his own mind at times, imagining each and every outcome, losing himself in just how pleasurable it would be to get his hands on the sunshine hero of the high kingdom—how immense the feeling would be to just watch him crumble in between his fingers while the mind and hopes of those who follow him shatter simultaneously all until they’re ash;

“Lord?” his shadow rogue spoke, “You’re looking particularly mad today. Are you ill? Might we call for the doctor? Perhaps you need to rest?”

“No,” he placed the pawn representing his kingdom back where it belonged, “I’m simply thinking.”

The shine caught the corner of his eye again—he assumed it had been the gleam of the knife in his rogue’s hand, but it had been sheathed.  

“Toga.”

“Yes, Lord?”  

The shadow rogue was young; She looked as though she were simply a pure maiden, allowing her to indulge in her fantasies without fear of being caught.

“Here.” He placed her pawn on the board, “The commoner and his party. Infiltrate it.”

“The commoner?” her face light up with something akin to insanity in her eyes, “I’d love to! I made friends with the witch, you know.”

“Then take her place. Gain intel.”

“Of course!”

He took a moment to imagine how her quest may go; Flawlessly taking a blade to the witch, drawing her blood in order to take her place. She would play her part, gain their trust—would she take after her Lord and take matters into her own hands were she caught? Perhaps before she were caught, just for fun? For the experience? Take pleasure in how smoothly her blade moved through the air and fluidly through their bodies, bathing in their life source and feeling the warmth leave their bodies as they--

“Lord.”

Tomura sighed, picking up another two pawns—his death knight and illusionist magician—and placed them towards the mountains.

“Dabi, Twice. Up here,” he tapped the map, “resides the King of Dragons. He’s young, impressionable. Incredibly strong—a leader—do not engage in more combat than you have to.”

“What would you have us do?” the knight asked, tapping the hilt of his sword lazily, “If we aren’t to fight, what do you have in mind?”

“As I said—impressionable. Bring him back to me, we’ll hold a hearing and attempt an alliance.”

“Is that such a good idea?”

“Perhaps not. However, it’s the only way to get an audience with him—he doesn’t play well with others, after all. Avoid his dragons.”

His knight had a mind of his own—his taste for destruction high as his will to do so drastically differentiated. He looked and played the part of death, his fire magic deadly and vast; With the help of the illusionist, he was sure to get close. Draw in the king with challenges with the illusionist’s projections, swipe him with his own hands.

“As you wish, Lord.”

His words fell on deaf ears as Tomura had been lost in thought once again. Could his knight keep his control? Would he get irritated and use that fire in his soul to make the young king comply? Would such blindingly heat burn from his hands as they touch the king’s skin, tearing the young boy apart at the very core of his being? Would he bask in the light, the heat, the glory of taking down the kingdom in one fell swoop? Would he get to laugh as the kingdom, the scenery, the people, all go up in flames as Tomura wished he could do?

“My Lord.”

“What is it, Kurogiri?”  

His psychic bowed slightly in apology, Tomura only now realizing the others had left his side. The shine that passed his side must have been his knight’s sword, right? Or was it off of the jewel upon his psychic that had caught the lantern’s light? His psychic, yes, he had a role for him as well.

“And what do you wish of me?”

“Guide them. Communicate if needed. Watch and ensure that they do not fail.”

“And if they should?”

“Then you’re all to be executed.”

“My Lord, that’s not practical--”

“Do not tell me what is practical!” Tomura yelled, banging his fist on the table—his pawns falling and rolling across the map, “I am the king! I’m the ruler! What I say is what shall be done—there is no room for failure!”

“Yes, my Lord.” Kurogiri bowed once again, taking his leave.

Tomura took a deep breath, staring at the splintered wood at the edge of the table beneath him as he leaned further above it. It was steadying him—his head was hurting; it was as though someone else had been trying to talk in his own mind, overpower his choices, call him naïve.  

The glimmer in the corner of his eyes returned, only it increasingly became blinding. He had to squint to focus on what he had been seeing—threads? Had he been caught in some sort of silk? Spider’s web?

His wrist felt as though it had been yanked upwards by this thread, his other one following suit. He could feel it around his throat—the constant tickle that always accompanied him as his thoughts went wild grew uncomfortable, painful, irritating. It grew tighter, this invisible grip, making it hard for the king to breathe.

As quickly as it had appeared, the glimmers had disappeared, all previous feelings against his skin dissipating faster than he could register. He had to catch his breath—should he had taken his rogue’s advice and called for the doctor? The chair closest to the table is where he fell, resting his body there and his head against the surface in front of him. His eyes closed—his mind finally calming down as his body followed suit and allowed him to slip into a quick slumber.

The king, the Theurgist Magician, the ruler of the forbidden kingdom had his unspoken secret in which he was even a fool to.

The Theurgist Magician, one blessed by the Gods with power dark as the night to make him special—to make him important—to give him the tools he needs to rule his kingdom and succeed his predecessor without disappointment.  

The God’s were nowhere to be found these days—higher powers were almost as vague as the stories the bards had told; Magic was to be natural, to be within a person as they were born, the God’s were not to give such luxuries to those of human status. But who had given Tomura such a power—who had given him such a gift that he was blind to the giver?

The power tugged at his threads once again, watching as his limbs twitched and dropped lifelessly; The God’s have been gone, their descendants roaming around the humans in peace so long as they live a life of harmony—though this power had lived in nothing but shadows since awakening. For years this higher power had roamed, watching, waiting, crafting the perfect plan and the perfect puppet to play with.

Tomura had made a deal with the Devil, devoting his life to the dark power in order to complete his puppeteers wishes, slowly growing mad as the strings of his mind had been pulled so taut they had snapped, allowing the darker power to slip between the crevasses and call it home.

Far away from Tomura’s reach, the puppeteer had pulled on his strings once again, watching his puppet dance to his every will in exchange for his tainted heavenly power.

All for One had smiled to himself, admiring just how refined his puppet had started to become.