#to have mob admit that his powers have helped him--have saved him!!--so many times

[scribefindegil]

finally had enough energy to subject myself to manga confession arc and god!!! i love Mob Psycho!!!!

[onsunnyside]

ok so i've been trying to come up with a mafia trope for this ask by the bestie @bimbofawn: now this isn't a full-blown mob fic, but it has a few elements

The Camerons have all the wealth, influence and success anyone can dream of. They come from a long lineage of fame and riches, now running the parent company of many subsidiaries with power all across the country. It's no surprise they're involved in a few shady businesses, yet it's all kept tightly under wraps.

As the heir to a vast dynasty, Rafe grew up under a lot of pressure to be the best in what he does, and his ego is proof of that. He's in the tabloids, the ivy league graduate by day and the wild bachelor by night, landing himself in more scandals than ass-kissing articles.

The Camerons are known for their prestige and (heavily manufactured) picture-perfect image. So Rafe's sleazy, immature behaviour just won't do. Although he's doing good with the shady side of the family business (bc ofc he's into violence and drug trafficking/manufacturing), he needs to do better with the public side. To give his son a motive for cleaning up his act, he gives him an ultimatum: lose it all and get disowned or settle down.

Now, he has a few months to find someone, but his ego won't let him settle for just anyone. The headlines aren't any comfort either: Pleasure Over Business: Is Rafe Cameron responsible for the fall of the Cameron dynasty?

This is very off-to-the-races coded: you drift into his sector on his friend's arm one night. He shrugs you off, expecting there to be a different girl the next time they go to the clubs (because there always is) but nope, you show up again and again.

It’s hard for him to ignore someone so kindhearted and naturally alluring. He can’t look away from you sipping on the straw, your calm gaze locked on his, making him stumble over his words like a teenager with a crush. He dreams of you every time he falls asleep, your pretty face burned on the inside of his eyelids as if you belonged there.

But one night his friend shows up with a different girl.

"Her rates got too high, and my folks were getting suspicious so I had to let her go, unfortunately." He exhales, his arm around the other woman kissing up his neck.

Now, did he predict you were an escort? Not at all. It catches him off guard and he almost spits up his drink. "You paid her to date you?"

Topper glares, "you don't have to say it like that. We did more than just make appearances together if that's what you're asking. All consensual, of course, but you do have to pay extra for private um... sessions."

me senses... a sugar-baby proposition: "I'll take care of everything, all expenses, your rent, and an allowance on top of that. Anything you want you can have."

You're still apprehensive, you've taken clients who've heard of you from word of mouth before, but this was new. They were best friends who routinely saw each other, you'd hate to stir the pot. "Won't it be weird?"

"You with Top was just business and so is what I'm offering." Perhaps that was a little white lie, but you didn't need to know that. "No harm, no foul. In my hands, you could live better than this."

"I like my home." You mutter, hugging a pillow to your chest, it was one of the many mismatched cushions that littered your old couch. "I worked hard to get it this way."

He nudges the wobbly table by the door, the picture frames rattling on the surface. "For thousands of dollars a night, I would've expected some sense of luxury, or a stove with actual knobs." He says and quirks a brow, "where'd all that money go?"

"Oh... I had to give my boss his cut."

"How much is that?"

"80 percent." You admit, ducking away when Rafe frowns, "I know, I know... It wasn't my fault, my daddy—" Your voice cracks, "My daddy got involved with a bad man after he gambled away all our savings and my college fund. And he still couldn't stop after my mama left. I had to—I had to help somehow."

You still remember returning from campus to see him bruised and battered on the living room floor, crying for your mother who was halfway across the world, now a happily divorced woman. The memory brings tears to your eyes and they stream down your cheeks.

Rafe bites his tongue, rethinking his decision to show up here in the first place. Your unlucky life only made you more perfect, and as terrible as it sounded, he knows he won't find anyone more fitting for his circumstances.

He refused to leave until you agreed.

"What's his name?"

You don't hear him over your sniffles and rub your nose into your pillow, "huh?"

He crouches by your feet, placing a hand on your thigh. "What's the big bad man's name, sweetie?"

"Why—Why are you asking..."

The blue in his eyes seems darker, but it could just be the dim lightbulbs you haven’t changed yet. He blinks up at you with thick lashes, a slow smile crawling onto his face.

"I'm going to prove to you that when you're with me, you've got nothing to worry about."

And the next night, he shows up at your door with a fresh bouquet of flowers and bruised knuckles. You don’t get one word out before drops a heavy duffel bag on the floor, “here’s the money you deserve for your work, and extra for your troubles.”

You glance at the bag and then his face, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “What—What did you do?”

He smiles, cocking his head to the side. “Nothing you have to worry about, sweetheart.” He says, wiping toothpaste from the corner of your lip. “Now, are you going to invite me in?”

Rafe is very possessive, he doesn’t care that you dated/slept with his friend because you belong to him now. He buys you a gold necklace with his initial on it, parades you around the city for all the nosy paps to see, and brings you home to meet his family. And yes, you do get the gold seal of approval from his father.

well this is just a mash-up of different tropes 🫡 fake relationship, sugar daddy and mob, with rafe's signature "you're mine" mindset. me has a few slutty and soft ideas for this au too hehe

[ntlazer]

The villain created a device that disabled the superhero's power. Now the hero stands in front of the villain, but instead of fighting them, the hero is thanking the villain with tears in their eyes.

McKitrick pulled at his collar and took a step back as his nemesis, Newton, was blubbering a few steps ahead of him, tears free and words undecipherable. McKitrick had a disempower gun in hand but was stuffing it in a coat pocket behind his back, embarrassed on behalf of Newton. Newton continued to try and express his thanks but was overwhelmed by the emotion of being powerless. McKitrick couldn’t help but take another step away from him. 

“You, uhhh… you good?” McKitrick asked, scratching the back of his hand while deciding whether or not he should call Newton’s bluff. Newton wiped his face on his sleeves far too many times to be sanitary and McKitrick almost looked away from the scene when his nemesis had been standing so valiantly only minutes ago.

“I’m free! It’s over! You saved me!” Newton said once he gathered his wits. He tried to stand but stumbled back to his knees. 

“All right, that sounds… Sketchy,” McKitrick admitted. “Weren’t you here to stop my plot or something?” 

“Originally, yeah,” Newton said, deciding to sit back rather than attempt to stand up again. 

“And… that’s changed?” McKitrick said skeptically. 

“I was here representing the Hero Unification Entity, but I never wanted to be a hero! I never wanted these powers! Do you know why I was given the name Newton?” Newton asked. 

“I assumed because your parents named you that,” McKitrick said, feeling a little dumb. 

“Because I had power based on Newton’s Third Law!” Newton said, feeling his arms slowly and wiping another tear away. 

McKitrick looked at Newton through narrow eyes and decided that Newton wasn’t telling a joke. 

“Newton’s Third Law acts on everything, whether you have powers or not,” McKitrick said, condescension heavy in his voice.

“My power was a lot different! I could alter my strength to whatever level I wanted, but my body didn’t respond in kind. So, I could deal out a large amount of damage, but cause myself the same amount of damage, with no protections. I could punch a hole in a wall, but I’d destroy my arm in the process. I could jump high, and throw my back out in the process,” Newton explained, tapping his legs lightly. 

“I’m not sure that has anything to do with Newton’s Third Law, it’s not like you’re subverting the equal and opposite reaction part, it just sounds like you don’t get armor when you add strength to yourself,” McKitrick opined. 

“Yeah,” Newton agreed. 

“I wasn’t saying anything in support of you,” McKitrick snapped. 

“And then the Hero Unification Entity would have me out on all these missions regardless of how wracked my body was at the end of them. ‘Stop McKitrick and his robot army! Stop McKitrick from summoning a tornado downtown!’ There was no escape because the public knew who I was! I couldn’t refuse without a mob targeting my home for refusing to save lives. No hero wants to admit they can’t handle the job!” Newton was rambling. McKitrick wasn’t sure how to respond. 

“And so… now that you’ve been defeated… you’re happy?” McKitrick asked, uncertainly. 

“Defeated!” Newton laughed, causing McKitrick to flare up in anger and prime a weapon, but Newton quickly continued before McKitrick could act on his rash reaction. “Defeated doesn’t mean anything!”

“But I won!” McKitrick said petulantly, more than a little offended. 

“Of course you won, but that’s not the point! I was defeated more than my fair share of times, but they just waited for me to be able to stand and then would send me out again. HUE was always short on heroes, we were overworked!” Newton said. 

“So what’s the difference now?” McKitrick asked. 

“I’m powerless! A Hero can’t be powerless! They have to have something! I’m free! They’ll give me an honorable discharge and let me go! Thank you! It’s over! I’m free!” Newton repeated, another bout of tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Oh… well, ummm, you’re welcome,” McKitrick said. “Should I keep trying to cause the earthquake in the MidWest or are you going to try and stop me?”

“I don’t care!” Newton laughed, finally standing himself up.

“Ah…” McKitrick looked back at his control station and breathed out, disappointed. “It just doesn’t feel the same when you aren’t trying to stop me.”

“It’s not like I could stop you if I wanted to,” Newton said, beaming. 

McKitrick frowned and turned off his Earthquake Generator, feeling miffed. He huffed and watched as Newton began making his way out of the lab. 

“Have a nice time!” Newton said as he waved out the door. 

“You too, have a nice vacation,” McKitrick grumbled, deciding immediately that his next project would be to restore Newton’s power to regain his nemesis.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Banished (1)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

After the shitshow of spring 1986, all parents are kind of worried about leaving their kids with Eddie again, even when he was proven innocent. It’s not that they think he killed Chrissy, but they are afraid that their kids might be targeted for the association with Eddie, like Dustin and Lucas were before. 

Even though Eddie doesn’t want to show it, it breaks his heart because he really loves his bunch of gremlins (and the new additions as well, El, Will and Max who finally joined some of their sessions after healing). He tries to accept it though, perhaps stepping back a bit, not hanging out too much because he wants to keep them safe, damn it, they survived the Upside Down and they’re not going to be harmed by a town mob. Especially not because of him.

Steve notices Eddie pulling away first, of course he does, but he has no way to fix this. The kids’ parents trust him, yes, but he’s not that much older than the party so his voice doesn’t have the power to persuade them. And he tries, he really, really tries. The answer is still the same - “maybe when things settle down a bit”, but damn it, they need Eddie now, and he has a feeling that Eddie needs them too. 

When Steve vents to Robin, he mentions how hurt the kids are, especially Dustin (and he doesn’t also say so about himself, no, doesn’t admit how much he misses that loud laughter, the endless fantasy ramblings, the odes to his guitar), Robin just smiles at him and pats his back. “Can’t make any promises, but I might have an idea what to do.” 

What happens is as follows.

Robin goes to Nancy to ask for help. She refuses to have Steve present and there might have been some gossip involved because Nancy looks at him in a funny way afterwards and says: “Give me a bit more time, you might just get what you want.” And winks at him. Nancy Wheeler winks at him. 

Nancy goes for the throat and ambushes her mother. Karen Wheeler is a caring, sympathetic woman, and Nancy talks to her about who Eddie is, how he’s helping the kids, how he made Mike’s high school experience bearable, even enjoyable. She tells her bits and pieces (not all, definitely not everything, but enough) about his home life and what Eddie means to the whole party. She also mentions (maybe with a small smirk. Definitely with a smirk) that Steve will be driving the kids around anyway and while the mob might go for a few teenagers, they definitely will not mess with Steve Harrington. If nothing else, the Harrington family would absolutely sue. “Please, mom,” she finishes her plea, leaning into Karen. “There aren’t many people those kids can relate to. And Eddie doesn’t deserve to be punished even more, especially for something he didn’t do.” 

And Karen Wheeler just nods with a deep sigh, hugs her daughter and picks up the phone. She makes several calls and Nancy doesn’t want to listen in (well, maybe she does, but Karen is very assertive on the phone so it doesn’t take much), but she hears phrases such as “Claudia, do you know he actually saved Dustin during the earthquake? Exactly. I’ve reconsidered my decision and frankly, so should you,” and “I get that you are upset about the incident with the police car, but please understand. It’s exactly the kids sticking together that saved them and I absolutely don’t intend to dissuade them from doing that.” 

A few hours later, Karen Wheeler emerges from the phone with a victorious smile on her face. She knocks on Nancy’s door and asks her if she could make sure Steve is available tomorrow, to drop the kids off. Also for dinner, they might not be together anymore but she still likes him, considers him family. “But please call him in twenty minutes or so”, she adds, “I have one more call to make.” 

The phone is not picked up immediately, but when it is, there is a cautious “hello?” at the other end. Karen’s heart skips a beat when she hears the fear in that voice, fear of more accusing calls, of insults, assumptions. She curses herself for ever taking a part in that, even if with the best intentions. 

“Hello, this is Karen Wheeler,” she announces, making sure her voice sounds normal and collected. “Am I speaking to Eddie?” 

There’s a gasp at the end of the line, and then a quick “Y-yes, this is Eddie. Look, Mrs. Wheeler, I swear your son is safe, I haven’t been around him in-”

“Eddie,” she interrupts him, strict but kind. “I know. And I thank you for indulging me...and the other parents. But there have been some changes. Would you be free tomorrow at...let’s say, six PM? Join us for dinner, from what I understand, all the kids will be here for their fantasy game. They have been complaining nonstop it’s not the same without you,” she finishes in a soft tone. 

“I’d...I’d love to, I really would,” he says, voice strained, and Karen grips the receiver tightly. She is a social person by nature, but she really wants to meet Eddie now, properly meet him and talk to him. “But it’s not just you, Mrs. Wheeler, even if I have your permission, the others-”

“Will not be a problem,” she completes the sentence for him, smiling into the phone as if Eddie could see her. “I talked to them before calling you. They all gave their okay and will drive their children over, so you can check with them too. But I assure you, it will not be necessary. You are welcome to join us, Eddie.” 

“O...okay.” There is a quiet sound at the other end, perhaps a sniffle, rustling of a tissue? “Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Thank you so much. I will...I will be there. Six, you said?” 

“Yes, six. See you tomorrow, Eddie.” 

As she hangs up the phone, she sees Nancy leaning on the wall, smiling. “You’re the best, mom,” she whispers and hugs her. “You really can’t tell where I get the fighting spirit from?” 

Karen Wheeler just laughs, returns the embrace and starts planning tomorrow’s dinner. The phone is finally free. 

Steve picks up almost immediately and when Nancy tells him the newest developments, there is a huge sigh of relief and she can just tell the way Steve is smiling into the phone, running a hand through his hair. “I could just kiss you and your mom,” he laughs after he confirms he’ll be there no matter what. 

Nancy just snickers because there is no expectation, no unfulfilled hope there, just warmth that comes with Steve’s friendship. “Hmm...thank you, but I’ll pass this time. How about you kiss Eddie instead?” 

She hangs up the phone to Steve’s sputtering and, once she’s certain he can’t hear her, laughs until her sides hurt because a shy Steve Harrington? That’s a new one and something she definitely cannot miss. 

[burningvelvet]

so many movies and stories about the romantic era are about the byron/shelley circle’s time spent at the stormy villa diodati in 1816 when mary wrote frankenstein. but where is all the representation for their equally chaotic adventures in italy circa. 1821???

them being friends with a chaotic lesbian/trans couple (writer david lyndsay and isabel robinson) and mary shelley helping the couple skip the country and go to france with fake passports she procured so the two could live as a married couple,

percy dealing with john keats dying in rome & simultaneously saving byron from dying of STDs in venice where he had over 200 chaotic affairs with men and women who were literally dying and brawling over him,

byron becoming a captain in the mob faction of the carbonari during the italian revolution, his palace becoming an artillery & living with one of his sassy countess mistresses teresa who had to get consent from the pope to divorce her crazy old husband who was a powerful assassin just so she could be with byron, and byron & co. having to deal with shootings and sword fights outside his apartment all the time, in which mary shelley and teresa were once interrogated by police for hours after someone was stabbed & byron had to pay the bail,

claire clairmont (mary shelley’s step-sister) who secretly plans on kidnapping her and byron’s daughter from byron’s custody and/or fleeing & eventually does flee to become a russian nanny and live in anonymity after their daughter tragically dies in a convent and she becomes fed up with everyone’s chaotic bullshit and converts to catholicism, turning down multiple men to remain a single working woman by choice,

percy having to act as the go-between messenger for claire and byron since they refuse to talk to each other,

percy having or adopting a mysterious child who died young but who many thought was his and claire’s, although it possibly belonged to his nanny elise and/or male servant paolo, who both claimed it was claire’s, despite there being no evidence she was pregnant — percy and claire nonetheless having to battle rumours that they were a couple for this and a million other reasons, byron believing percy/claire had an affair, mary having to quell the rumours (but we still don’t know the entire truth about the mysterious child’s real parentage, or whether shelley had affairs with elise or claire???),

percy and mary basically becoming pseudo-swingers with a couple they lived with — edward & jane williams — jane being a cool sexy singer and guitar player who inspired a lot of shelley’s poems after he fell in love with her, and the bisexual mary admitting she found jane attractive too — and jane marrying one of shelley’s best friends after shelley died,

byron and percy sailing around 24/7 with edward trelawny the eccentric traveling pirate/sailor daredevil (who was also probably attracted to percy and demanded to be buried next to him after keeping his memory alive for 50+ years after he died despite only knowing him for ~6 months - and later writing a lot about him and byron, the stories of which were embellished and changed over time),

byron saving percy from drowning and chastising him for reading while sailing, percy refusing to learn how to swim, percy commissioning a fancy sailboat to be built and then byron renaming it after his own poem (don juan) as a prank, percy and edward unable to scrape the new name off, then byron having a huge pleasure yacht built just because he wanted a boat that was bigger than percy’s, but then he barely even used it and had to get rid of it which started a huge feud with trelawny and the boatmakers that lasted for years,

percy (and edward) dying in a boating accident with john keats’ poetry in his pocket, rabid tourists/fans trying to crash the funeral, byron then spending the funeral getting drunk, throwing up, practically trying to drown himself bc they all decided to go swimming during the cremation and byron stayed in the water for hours only to become deathly ill for the rest of his life afterwards from getting heat sick, byron trying to steal percy’s skull from trelawny, leigh hunt trying to steal percy’s heart, mary keeping percy’s heart in her desk next to his and byron’s hair, the heart being wrapped up in his poem adonaïs which he wrote for john keats death but which she noted was also mysteriously fitting for his own, mary later dying while staring at percy’s heart which no one knew was in her desk til then,

mary shelley hating italy in general & having miscarriages, her and percy going insane from grief and percy hallucinating their dead kids, percy/byron/leigh trying to form a newspaper together and then failing, etc.???,

byron inviting leigh hunt and his six rambuncious children to stay with him and then proceeding to be driven mad by said children who he called “yahoos” and “blackguards”, then hunt writing a passive aggressive thinkpiece where he roasts byron for singing loudly whenever hunt was trying to concentrate and get stupid drunk and would ride on his kids rocking-horse,

byron and edward trelawny fucking off to go be key figures in the greek revolutionary war bc why not (& partly out of tribute to percy who was obsessed with greece—although byron/trelawny were also obsessed with greece, there is some evidence that percy inspired them to join the war) . . .

i mean really. netflix, stop fucking around!

[plan-d-to-i]

It's really funny that ppl think lwj standing beside wwx in his 1st life will change things. When lwj did this in wwx's 2nd life, he got called a traitor, & this was 13 years later when ppl's hatred was supposed to have lessen by time. He'd get killed on sight if he did this at that time w/c is exactly what the lan clan feared. The conflict is so easy to understand but these victim!wwx stans are just too deep in their victim mentality they just missed what mxtx wrote.

Well, I thought this passage was pretty telling:

"At this point, a small voice suddenly spoke up, “Dad, I feel that maybe he really didn’t do it. Last time, in Yi City, he was the one who saved us. This time, he seem to be here to save us as well…”

He followed the voice. The person who spoke was OuYang ZiZhen. However, the father immediately scolded the son, “Children shouldn’t talk so carelessly! Do you know what situation we’re in? Do you know who that is?!”

Withdrawing his gaze, Wei WuXian spoke calmly, “Now I understand.”

He had known from the start that no matter what he said, nobody would listen to him. What he denied could be forced; what he admitted could be twisted.

Lan WangJi originally had quite a lot of weight in his words. But, now that he was with him, he was most likely a target of the people as well. " (68)

LWJ alone is ineffective once he publicly sides with WWX against the mob drunk on their own righteousness. Regardless of how unimpeachable his reputation had previously been. The juniors' voices alone are dismissed. You need the help of someone from the inside. But people forget about NHS (which frankly NHS would love). Even at the second siege of the Burial Mounds, NHS is the one who runs into the cave first. And again, that was a perfect inimitable situation and a huge strategic misstep from JGY (also caused by the pressure NHS put on him w the threatening letter) because this environment is created where everyone is forced into a room cave, exhausted and powerless, essentially forced to listen to WWX. NHS's little comments spurn the conversation on too.

Yi WeiChun shouted, “There’s nothing for us to chat about with you!”

Wei WuXian, “How could there be nothing to chat about? I’m not buying it—don’t you want to know how you’ve suddenly lost your spiritual powers? From the bottom of my heart, I’m not so powerful as to have done something to all of you without anyone noticing.”

Just as Yi WeiChun spat, he heard Nie HuaiSang respond, “Yeah, I think he makes a lot of sense.”

WWX gets room to speak and slowly weave a trap for SuShe. He saves everyone there in the most heroic way possible. And finally, at Lotus Pier, Nie Huaisang's witnesses come to take down JGY's reputation from all sides, firmly refocusing everyones' zeal for "justice". So many things had to happen for WWX to get a break. Not in the least, there being a new focus for the angry mob to rally against. But ppl are like: WWX won bc of the power of love and hopes, wishes and dreams! Well the story is more cynical. Having support is nice on a personal level, but "justice" still comes about because the goals of someone on the inside, are temporarily aligned with those of the protagonist. Someone who perfectly weaponizes his image to appear as unthreatening as possible to the established order while subverting it. No matter how wonderful and brilliant the protagonist is, or how perfect the love interest.

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || we will meet again

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

proof read: N/A

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

Back in the day, when Jujutsu Sorcerers were at their prime, lived a Cursed Spirit who goes by the name Sukuna. Once a human Sorcerer himself, he had somehow managed to create himself into the Jujutsu world's most feared Cursed Spirit. He was dubbed 'the King of Curses' and rained terror over the human and jujutsu world; with super natural powers and a sadistic personality to match the title. Everyone who has crossed him shook in absolute fear.

That was, of course, before he met a particular princess.

She was a beautiful woman; the daughter of one of the then king’s favourite concubines. Born with the alluring beauty of her mother, and a heart of gold, it was hard to ignore her presence when she walked into a room. 

She was brought up in the palace, where she was given the title as princess; but she will never sit on the throne of the kingdom her father rules over. As only the King’s wife is allowed to bear the heir that will sit on the throne. She didn’t mind, she had never desired such power to begin with. Even if she was going to be married off to one of the many foreign princes asking for her hand in marriage, she didn’t care about titles. 

Since she was never destined to sit on the throne, her father had given her quite the freedom to do as she pleases. With all her free time, she tends to use it connect to the people of her kingdom; helping the needy during their time of need, always purchasing things from the local vendors and merchants that have travelled long and far. She is beloved by the people, and shines a light on the royal family that makes them more human instead of the godly image that is projected onto the royal family.

Anyone who meets her would fall in love for her - and apparently not even Cursed Spirits were the exception.

The princess have always love spending her time out in nature - horse back riding with a few of the guards in training, swimming in the river that her brothers love to hunt by, learning about the different plants and herbs from the doctors that go out foraging for medical herbs. So it came to the surprise to no one when Sukuna stumbled onto the princess by accident on the riverbed.

Sukuna had not expected to see any human about as he goes about his walk deep in the woods. It was one of those rare moments to himself where he does not necessarily have anything he needed to do on hand, and also the few rare moments where he does not have a mob of sorcerers up his ass. He was just enjoying the sounds of nature and the soft wind blowing against his kimono when he heard what sounded like a human's laughter coming from the river near by. At first he was curious, since no human usually ventures this deeply into the woods. At the same time, he had wanted to ignore it, since humans are just a pain in the ass to deal with even if they can't see you. However, there was something so alluring about that soft giggle that had him wanting to see just who this annoying brat was. So, without even him realising what was happening, his feet quietly walked towards the river and before he knew it, he had pushed the last branch aside to peek over at the river bed curiously. Sitting before him on a flat rock by the river was a woman with flowing hair, her small feet dipped into the running water below as her hands reached forward to play with a few of the fishes that swam by. The pink fabric of her furisode laid behind her like a pink halo, showcasing the intricate sakura trees and flowers that were sown into the fabric. The aura around her was relaxed and peaceful, and somehow just seeing her brings him a sense of peace. As if she could sense his stare, the woman suddenly pauses before she turns to look over her shoulder curiously; bright and seemingly glowing eyes meeting his red ones head on. Sukusa felt the world around him come to a stop as the eyes of the princess before him trapped him on the spot, causing him to loose all train of thought from before. "Oh - were you wanting to sit here too?"

"Huh?"

The casual way she just asked him that question definitely threw him off. The woman actually just lets out a soft laugh at his dry answer. "It's alright - we can share the space if you don't mind." She commented, a teasing tone taking over her voice as she patted the free spot beside her. "I promise I don't bite."

If she had known just who this man was, she might actually understand how ironic her sentence was. But Sukuna decided not to comment on it as he quietly makes his way towards her, sitting down at the spot beside the princess whose eyes had already returned to the river before her. "The water feels extra nice today. And there is more fishes then usual." She conversed with the man casually, causing Sukuna to wonder if she is pretending to be as dense as she is right now. "How are you so calm right now? I mean, do you see a 10ft tall human with four arms every day or what? Your reaction is sort of dull." 

The princess pauses in thought as she thinks, looking far too relaxed by his side. "I have always been able to see...odd things." She started off with a soft hum, glancing over at the man beside her with a soft smile. "I have asked people around me before, and after realising that I am the only one who can see them, I decided to ignore them." She admitted, running her dry hand through her hair softly. "But if I am being honest, this is the first time one has actually ever spoken to me."

"Well, I'm not the everyday curses." He said with a slightly proud tune in his voice, to which the princess beside him looks up at the taller man with interest. "Every day curses are small things, I am basically what people in my world call a Special Grade Curse." He continued, and for some reason, when he saw how her eyes were staring up at in him awe, he looked away with a light blush on his face. He doesn't even know what was about her that drags out these human-like emotions from him - he had never felt like this ever before.

"Special Grade Curse?" She echoes back with curiosity, to which the man beside her just nods softly as he leans back to rest on the free arms, the other two crossed across his chest. Suddenly she turned to face him, her eyes shining so brightly with excitement that it caused Sukuna to squint a little. "Can you explain just what you are to me a little more?"

One question was all it took to have Sukuna falling, and if he was being honest - he actually didn’t mind spending so much time on this little human. From sharing stolen nights in her bedroom in the royal palace, to sneaking out to just go to the riverbed where the met for the first time; they even spent time just wandering about his domain. It was actually during these small explorations of the world around them that created a special bond between the two.

For her, he was her escape from the restrictive and repetitive routine of royal life. For him, she was his utopia, a person he can turn to whenever he feels like just killing everyone around him. Soon though, these emotions sprouted into something deeper and more personal. It was jarring at first, falling for a human - but he knows that she was worth it all.

He remembers the way her eyes shone brightly with a constant look of innocence in them, yet she is mature and realistic enough to know that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. He remembers the way she carries herself, her warm and loving smile, how content he felt whenever she wrapped her arms around him. He loves the feeing of her soft hair that tumbles around her face in soft waves, how it feels like silk whenever he runs his fingers through them. How with just one glance, she can fill the void in his heart that he didn't know existed.

Yet they were never set to happy ending to begin with.

It was during just what started off like a normal day when the town the princess was in was suddenly invaded by a rival kingdom’s army. Their goal was to conquer and take over the kingdom with any means necessarily; meaning that the royal family had to go.

Uraume had entered his hideout, panting with wide eyes as they told Sukuna of the town now plunging into chaos. Within seconds the Cursed Spirit was up and sprinting towards the royal palace, great fear and anger gripping him from within. Entering through the destroyed doors of the grand palace, he ignored the screams of anguish of the others around him as he ran straight towards one of the buildings - the building where the royal sleeping chambers were located.

When he finally found her room, he felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest at the sight before him.

The once beautifully crafted shoji doors with panels decorated in a beautiful forest scene now laid in tatters, the furniture inside looking as if though a huge scuffle had happened. Rushing deeper into the room, he felt his heart sank to its stomach when he saw the splatters of blood leading towards the small room where the princess would sleep in.

Entering the back room, his red eyes scanned over the many splatters of blood about the room, the red handprints of the princess smeared across the ornate walls whilst the body of the princess laid on her futon; the sheets now soaked in blood. "No, no, no.." Sukuna managed out in horror as he quickly made his way to his lover's side, pulling her bloodied body into his arms immediately. "Flower, open your eyes. Please.."

Slowly her eyelids begin to move, and Sukuna felt his heart break when he saw how her now dull and tired eyes shifted to look up at him, taking a moment to truly process just who he was. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna mumbles out through a small voice as he pulls her closer, trying his hardest to press his hands against the gashing wound on her abdomen. Since the wound was inflicted by a non-sorcerer, there was no trace of cursed magic on her; meaning that there was no way he can save her to begin with. "I-If only I had known..."

"Shh...it's okay.." The princess whispered out in a soft but pained tone, her bloody hand reaching up to cup his tattoo cheek ever so softly. The familiar touch brought another wave of emotion through Sukuna as he tries to blink back his tears, pulling her closer to his chest as he shifted his posture so she was sitting in his lap. He barely even acknowledge his own kimono that was slowly being soaked in blood. "Y-You didn't know this was going to happen...no one did...don't blame yourself..."

With watery red eyes Sukuna marvelled at how even though she was on death's doorstep, she still tried to put on a smile for his sake. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna manages through a pained tone, tears now sliding down his face in thick streams whilst the woman just gave him a loving smile, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't be.." She mumbles softly, forcing the man to look down at her as she gave him the same smile that had him falling for her from the beginning. "You know that...it takes more than this to get rid of me.."

The teasing words caused Sukuna to let out a soft and pained laugh, remembering the times where he would tell her how annoying she was whenever she would cling onto him and tease him relentlessly. He would trade anything to go back to those moments once more. "Brat.." He manages through his silent sobs, to which the woman just lets out a soft laugh as her fingers slowly traced along his features. For a few moments it was just silence, but the next time she spoke, Sukuna knew that the end was coming.

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

"I promise, my love." Sukuna mumbles back quietly, resting his forehead against hers when he noticed how much effort it takes for her to blink. "No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you." He told her firmly as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead. "No matter how long it takes.." She echoes quietly, to which Sukuna just press a loving kiss on her head just as he felt her soft hand slowly slide down his chest, falling limply on her side.

For a moment Sukuna just held her against him, quietly crying into her hair. His entire world was in his arms, and just like that she was taken away from him. From that sadness came anger, and he soon found himself with the deep desire to crush whoever took her away from him.

Thus started the true rein of terror under the King of Curses, his anger fueling him to chase for bigger goals. Whilst he strive to rid of this world of dirty humans who took his flower away from her, he kept the vow that they promised one another - that they will wait for the other no matter how long it takes.

Because he had promised you so, and he’d do anything to keep that promise.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[littleoddwriter]

Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

[dolugecat]

Real talk though, Dimple is hella underrated as a character. Its easy to dismiss him as just the mandatory lil mascot, but that’s a real shame. He’s basically just an even uglier, more grizzled Reigen, and has just as much of an impact on Mob’s growth as him too. He serves very important narrative roles and undergoes his own character development too! Here is just some rambles on his importance to the story and to Mob!

The dynamic between Mob and Dimple mirrors that of Mob and Reigen’s in that Dimple provides Mob with a link to sprits the way that Reigen provides Mob with a link to humans (paraphrase of something ONE said once bout them). And unlike Reigen, Dimple can actually offer exposition and insight on the spirt world!

Big one: Dimple has saved Mob’s ass many times! From forcing a reaction out of that sad ghost family, uncorrupting Mob in Mogamiland, taking care of Mob’s unconscious body a couple times, calming Mob down before he nuked the country when his house was set on fire, to all the shit that goes down in the last part of the manga (if you read it, you know and you might have cried too admit it)

Providing key insight on how Mob is feeling and initiating conversation with Mob so we get to hear his thoughts. Very important, especially earlier in the series when Mob had no friends! Without Dimple, Mob would barely talk when not with Reigen! And yet, Dimple isn’t a perfect narrator for Mob and definitely has his own biases/perspective, so it’s not noticeable that that was his main purpose!

Like many characters in mp100, Dimple’s character development cements the main themes of the series. Without even realizing it, Dimple has throughout the story been changing for the better bc of Mob’s influence, and honestly vice versa too! Just as with everyone else, Dimple is on a (misguided) journey towards self-satisfaction but doesn’t know what he really needs. It’s only with the help of others and the strength to look deep within himself that he overcomes his greatest struggles. Which is ya know, kind of what Mob needs to do (spoilers, he does yay for character growth and thank you dimple for leading the way)

He’s funny. Yeah, that’s pretty much it for this bullet point. Comedy is like 50% of the reason why Mob Psycho isn’t a super depressing series so points for comic relief!

Dimple serves as a good foil to Mob. As good foils do, the traits he has that are opposite of Mob draw attention to said traits. Next to Dimple, Mob appears especially honest, endearing, and well intentioned (some of the most defining character traits of Mob)

Being like the lil devil on a shoulder that temps people into doing selfish things. This provides extra tension and served as a catalyst for Ristu’s descent to emo-ness, as well as demonstrating how unwavering our beloved protag’s determination to be a good person is. And lets be honest, a lot of Dimple’s “bad” advice on how Mob should use his powers is exactly what most of us would do if we could. Dimple’s advice kind of a relief from Mob’s ridged mindset and provides the more self-centered audience a character to relate to (or maybe i’m just chaotic evil, I definitely would not be as morally good with OP psychic powers as Mob is lol. Although its not like Mob’s way was good either, both are wrong but that’s for another day).

[shadow-sovereign]

I’ve got another Ashborn/Jin-Woo fic idea.

This one is an au world, though I’m still working out the exact details of the setting. I know that I want it to be a no electricity, everything’s run on magic world. No cars, internet, and phones.

The setting is a somewhat isolated town near the mountains and a forest with one dirt path leading to the next village, several miles away. It’s a town where the people have worshiped a death god (Ashborn) for as long as they can remember.

In return for sacrificing some animals and produce here and there, Ashborn keeps them safe from invaders. But unbeknownst to the townspeople, the temple priests in charge of the sacrifices have recently begun keeping the offerings for themselves, leaving them vulnerable.

Now, Ashborn isn’t being malicious about it, but without people actively praying/sacrificing to him, his attention begins to wander. Maybe it’s even harder for him to visit the mortal plane without the anchor of their worship. So, he doesn’t even notice when that town he used to protect is attacked.

The townspeople are able to fend off the invaders, but many are injured in the process. And they know that the retreating force were mostly just scouts, a bigger force to follow. Everyone’s frantic, wondering why Ashborn didn’t defend them.

Obviously, the temple priests aren’t willing to admit that they’ve been slacking on their duties, so they tell the people they’ll research the old texts to figure out what Ashborn wants from them. There, they find reference to what they perceive is a human sacrifice, made a couple thousand years ago. The texts say that the human woman gave ‘her mortal life and heart’ to Ashborn, and in return, he protected the town and helped them prosper.

The priests think this means a greater sacrifice gets greater reward. It also gives them an excuse to tell the townspeople, that the death god requires a human sacrifice every so often. They’d rather sacrifice a human than admit their mistake, knowing the townspeople would call for the missed sacrifices to come from their own wealth.

It takes them a while to convince the townspeople, but then it becomes a question of who to sacrifice. Not wanting a mob to form if they start fighting about who to sacrifice, the priests lie and say they’ll look for a volunteer. In reality, they look for someone who won’t be missed.

Thus, we have Jin-Woo’s family, living out in the woods. His father is a hunter, selling meat and furs in town. He’s often away in the forest, checking traps and hunting animals. His mother tends to their garden, along with Jin-Woo and Jin-Ah. No one in town would notice for a while if one of them went missing.

The priests find Jin-Woo when he’s in the woods and threaten his family to get him to come with them quietly. They make him write a note, saying that he’s willingly sacrificing himself to save everyone. Since Jin-Woo will be dead by the time anyone reads the note, they figure there won’t be a way to prove one way or the other whether his sacrifice was willing or coerced.

What they didn’t count on was Ashborn’s reaction.

Ashborn feels it the moment they kill someone in his temple, cutting out Jin-Woo’s heart and throwing it in one of the black flame torches next to the throne. He’s livid, the room growing dark as he appears inside.

His anger permeates the room, demanding to know what they’ve done, his rage only growing as they explain what and why. To have that ritual from so long ago twisted by their greed.  

The woman that gave her ‘mortal life and heart’ to Ashborn was never a sacrifice, but his consort. He replaced her mortal heart with one of his own creation, the ‘black heart’, so that she’d live for a long time by his side. And as his consort, he naturally took care of the people of her hometown, wanting to make her happy.

But now the temple that was built to house them both has been defiled, a seventeen year old boy sacrificed in his name. Even though it’s not his fault, he still feels guilty that Jin-Woo’s life was cut short. And so, he offers Jin-Woo’s spirit a choice.

He doesn’t have the ability to heal Jin-Woo’s body as it is, but he can create a new black heart for him. Not telling him the original meaning of it, but that it will extend his lifespan if he accepts it.

Jin-Woo isn’t quite happy about the idea of living longer than a normal human lifespan, but he’s unwilling to move on and leave his family behind. He accepts the heart, then asks if Ashborn will help him defend his family from the invaders.

Ashborn agrees, but says that he wants Jin-Woo to move into the Temple. With that Black heart inside him, Jin-Woo is now able to command his shadow soldiers, and he wants to get to know the person who’s essentially become his second in command. (Again not mentioning that the heart originally had that power because it was meant for his consort.)

Jin-Woo moves into the Temple while the Shadow soldiers start patrolling around the village. His family slowly moves into the Temple, too, packing up their stuff, moving the garden. His father has to go around collecting his traps from the forest, as the Temple is on the other side of the village.

While this is all going on, everyone starts getting to know each other. Jin-Woo and his family have conversations with Ashborn and get introduced to some of his most trusted shadow soldiers. Igris and Bellion are made the family’s guards, but Jin-Woo also becomes close to Beru, Iron, and Tank.

Jin-Woo and Ashborn slowly develop a friendship and eventually, Jin-Woo asks about the story behind that woman who was said to give her ‘mortal life and heart’ to him. Ashborn is a bit reluctant to tell him, but doesn’t want to lie to him either. After revealing that she was his consort and what the black heart originally meant, he’s quick to reassure Jin-Woo that he doesn’t have any expectations of that from him, but that he couldn’t just let him die when he was killed in his name over such a misunderstanding.

Jin-Woo is a bit embarrassed by the revelation, but knows Ashborn enough by that point to trust he’s telling the truth about not expecting such things from him. But it does get him thinking later, seeing Ashborn in a new light. It hadn’t occurred to him before that a death god could fall in love with humans. He assumed a god would see humans in a more distant way, a species that’s so much weaker and dies in the blink of an eye.

It makes him curious, wanting to get to know Ashborn better. He finds that they both value loyalty and family, are ruthless in the pursuit of keeping their people safe, and both enjoy the simple things in life. Family meals, stargazing, the first bloom of flowers in the Spring, petting an animal as it purrs in your lap, and many other things like that.

Slowly, they start to fall in love.

For Ashborn, this presents a bit of a moral quandary. It’s already an awkward situation with Jin-Woo having the black heart inside him, even with his promise of having no romantic expectations. He’s not sure if Jin-Woo will react badly if he confesses his feelings.

There’s also the difference in their status. Some humans would feel pressured if a god admitted interest in them or worry about retaliation if they refused. He doesn’t want Jin-Woo to accept his feelings out of fear or obligation.

On Jin-Woo’s end, he wonders if Ashborn would even be interested in someone like him. He’s fairly young, seventeen when they met and eighteen by the time he realizes his feelings. But surely every human must seem young to someone so ancient.

And even if age isn’t an issue, he doesn’t know if he’s Ashborn’s type. What was his human consort like? Does Ashborn prefer women or does gender even matter to gods?

Jin-Woo would probably start by asking the shadow soldiers if any of them were around when Ashborn’s consort was alive. Asking them what she was like and how Ashborn treated her. They’d end up having a conversation about Jin-Woo’s feelings and maybe give advice. At least one of the summons would know that Ashborn liked to take his consort stargazing or that she sometimes cooked his favorite food. Things like that.

Ashborn, meanwhile, is thinking of ways to subtly get across his feelings. Courting Jin-Woo without being obvious about it. Starting with making sure Jin-Woo at least thinks of him as a friend, not as his patron god.

So, they’d both be thinking of activities to do together. Finding gifts that the other would like. Ashborn would also try to get closer to Jin-Woo’s family, so that they wouldn’t feel concerned if the two of them started dating.

It’d just be both of them trying to show that they can be a good partner, hoping that the other person will start seeing them in a romantic light as well. Eventually, they’d start to catch on, maybe the shadow soldiers and Jin-Woo’s family giving them hints that the other person likes them. Then someone will clue Jin-Woo in that he needs to be the one to confess first, as Ashborn is worried about their difference in status making things awkward if he expresses interest.

After confessing, they start going on actual dates and live happily ever after.

And Ashborn figures out a way to extend the lives of Jin-Woo’s family, too. A way that’s less traumatic than literally cutting out their heart and replacing it with one of his own creation. And thus, they all get to live long, happy lives together. The end.

[cregla]

DREAM SMP UNDERTALE!AU

Part One link is found at the end of the post.

A FORGOTTEN DETAIL:

Of course, I had it considered it obvious, but it makes sense to put it down: Technoblade kills Ranboo. He kills him once, and then again, and again. But Ranboo, despite his surprise, always goes back - resetting the timeline to a "save point" and thus managing to move forward by understanding what the future holds.  No one seems aware of this, but the ghost boy follows him in his resets and has knowledge of all past timelines, even if he forgets some details every now and then.

THE BADLANDS: 

Ranboo and the ghost boy enter the Badlands, where they become acquainted with various inhabitants and are attacked by other members of the Royal Guards, sent by the "Warden": Badboyhalo, Skeppy, Antfrost and Puffy - the latter however is not Ranboo's antagonist, she doesn’t try to capture or kill him like the others as she goes against her own allies to bring him to safety and tries in every way to hide him from them. While traveling through the Badlands, Ranboo begins to discover more and more about the Dream SMP. - Puffy tells of a much happier time, where players from other servers like him were welcomed, not rejected. Although Ranboo tries to ask more questions, Puffy doesn’t answer further. Ranboo compares her sad look when she speaks to one of someone’s grieving. - During a dinner with Karl, the latter warns Ranboo of a "masked person" whom the boy recognizes as "Dream". Ranboo asks Karl why the server is named after this person and Karl confirms that it's the opposite: the server was created hundreds of years ago by an entity named "DreamXD" and over time, the inhabitants of the Underground either named their children by that name or tried to assume the identity of the creator for one reason or another. So many have taken on the name "Dream" and its mask - good people, bad people. Karl's friends, enemies.

THE WARDEN:

No matter how hard he tries to escape, no matter Puffy's intervention - at one point, Ranboo is forced to face the Warden - Awesamdude, the Dream SMP prison’s keeper and new Captain of the Royal Guard. The creeper hybrid is surprised to see Ranboo so young, but he’s resolute in his intentions and still tries to capture the boy.  Using the power of reset, Ranboo manages to save himself multiple times and eventually escape, but is caught up again. As they fight, however, Sam realizes that he is indeed facing a child, and makes the decision to put his weapons away and "get out" of the role of the Warden, having also learned that Ranboo hasn't hurt anyone in the Underground.  Sam convinces the other members of the Royal guard to stop fighting and takes Ranboo (and the ghost boy) to his home. When Ranboo wonders if the King will blame the Royal Guards for letting him go, Sam says he will completely take the blame and not to worry. The two become friends and Sam gives his phone number to Ranboo to accompany him on his journey - then, learning that Sapnap and Quackity still intend to capture Ranboo, accompanies him to their house to talk.

MEMORIES OF THE PAST:

Quackity and Sapnap are not at all friendly, but the presence of both Sam and Karl prevents them from attacking Ranboo. The five spend an evening together and slowly, the two members of the Royal Guard seem to open up - Quackity more slowly, but in the end the two admit that Sam is right. Sapnap explains that as much as he wants revenge, he cannot regard Ranboo as anything other than an innocent person like someone else who came before him. Ranboo notices a photo in Sapnap's house - a group of friends in front of the “Community House”, smiling. Sapnap explains that most of them left a few years ago the known lands of the Underground (but not the Underground itself, since they’re stuck there), following the tragedy that marked the beginning of their hunt for the inhabitants of the outside, and that Sapnap did not follow them only because of Quackity and Karl and for his desire of revenge. When Ranboo asks what he is talking about, he gets no answer. In the end, Sapnap and Quackity also give Ranboo their numbers and direct him to the “Greater Land”.

As they enter the new area, the ghost boy hesitates as they pass by a hill - looking sadly at a rotting wooden bench and a broken jukebox. Remaining silent, when Ranboo continues on the path the ghost follows him sadly.

THE GREATER LAND

While escaping from mobs (who still spawn in the Underground, yes), Ranboo is saved by a fox hybrid named Fundy who bring him to his home. There, he introduce himself as the Archbishop of the Dream SMP and explain that, since the Warden usually captures and kills the players before they reach the Greater Land and he was still a child when the Hunt had first begun, he had been curious about Ranboo and had spied him using lots of cameras scattered around the Underground. Fundy explain to Ranboo that he feels sympathy for him and approves his cause of running back home, and that so he has paid two friends so they could escort him to the Barrier. He then introduces Ranboo to Jack Manifold and Niki Nihachu, who are ready to be Ranboo’s guards in the Greater Land.

THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS

Ranboo, the ghost boy, Niki and Jack proceeds in their journey, quickly becoming friends and interacting with the other inhabitants of the area.  Ranboo constantly receives calls from the people he befriended: Sam, Quackity, Sapnap, Karl, but also Puffy and the other Royal Guards through Sam's cell phone. Fundy also had given him his numer and helps the trio (or rather, quartet) cross the Greater Land areas.  Despite everything seems to be going well, Ranboo begins to be the victim of strange, particular accidents: a bridge that almost breaks under his feet threatening to make him fall and die, objects falling on him from the sky, badly placed TNTs, explosions. Thanks to his skills, the help of the ghost boy and a bit of luck, Ranboo practically survives all the time, hardly noticing what's going on. At a certain point of the journey, Ranboo is separated from Niki and Jack and is attacked by a mercenary, Purpled, who tries to kill him by the order of “someone” until he realize that Ranboo had financed his and his brother Punz's financial business back when he was in the Ruins, thus deciding to let him go.

While searching for Niki and Jack, Ranboo and the Ghost Boy stumbles upon a strange corner of the Greater Land, where they find an abandoned, dilapidated structure, lying on the water and made of bricks and crafting tables. The doors and windows are barred and it seems that no one has set foot there for years.

A FAILED PLAN

Reaching the end of the area, Ranboo finds Niki and Jack who, however, seem to have abandoned the "friendly" facade they had had up to that moment as they aggressively reveal to him the truth of what had happened. Fundy's plan was definitely not to take Ranboo to the Barrier, but to escort him directly in front of the King to be imprisoned, as Fundy actually holds a very strong grudge against players from other servers because of what they took away from him. Niki and Jack should therefore have pretended to be Ranboo’s friends, but they had tried to kill him several times and even now they are "fed up". Their intention have indeed become to kill Ranboo themselves and steal his soul to cross the Barrier themselves. The three begin to fight. Niki, exactly like Fundy, seems to be holding a grudge towards other servers' players, and it is only thanks to the words of Ghostbur, who arrives there to kindly try to make her desist, that the girl stops, realizing that since the people she hated were already dead, she had used Ranboo as a "substitute" for her anger and hatred. Jack stops too, as his friend's well-being is more important to him than whatever plan they were planning. The two and Fundy, having arrived there, apologize, having realized that Ranboo is a good person, and Fundy shows Ranboo the way to reach the capital of the Dream SMP, where he will find the King and the Barrier. 

Ranboo and the ghost boy then leave the area and set foot in L'Manburg where, advancing towards their destiny, they hear the inhabitants of the city tell a particular tale...

Masterpost - Previous - Next

[innaminitus]

To meet you again

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Request:  Hey! May I request Geralt x reader? Maybe where the reader is a commoner in the kingdom, and while Geralt is there to kill a monster, him and the reader keep crossing paths? But get this: the reader is extremely clumsy and every time they cross paths it’s because of the reader tripping, or running into him, etc ya know? It gets to the point where Geralt starts making small offhand comments about her clumsiness and she shows that she’s actually pretty damn feisty. I’m so excited! Thank you hun! (from @badass-dora-milaje​)

and

Hello there. I read your beautiful lake story and just fell in love with your writing style. So I'd like to request a story if I may: Geralt & reader meet up time and time again. She somehow always helps him out (calms a mob, heals his wounds, gives the missing coin he needs) and she's always kind to him. There may be underlying tension between the two, but she doesn't act on it. There is a change in their dynamics though when she endangers her life while trying to help him again and anger and worry finally make him react, pushing her against a wall and showing her how much he truly cares. Now I'd like to leave it up to you if the smut is passionate and either sweet or more angry. I hope this is okay as a request? Thanks so much for sharing your work and doing this! Regards V (from @superconfusedandreadytorumble​)

Warnings: smut, language, angst

Word count: 3034

A/N: I didn’t proffread it because i’m a lazy ass 

You were… just a nobody, really. Just a clumsy girl, who happened to have just enough healing abilities to help with cuts and burns in the town.

Somehow he always crossed paths with you.

You were picking up the herbs in the forest, finally unbothered. It was the beginning of spring, and the door to your house almost never closed. People were storming you with colds and allergies, sometimes knocking on your door at night. Mothers were… overprotective, bothering you when their sons barely sneezed. In the forest you could finally rest, breathe fresh air and be alone for a change. No one walked that deep into the forest, afraid they might meet leshy and his monsters; you’ve never met him, though and doubted he actually lived in the forest.

That is, until you heard sounds of a fight. Frozen in place, you were too afraid to move. A cry of a beast mixed with hoarse screams and clings of steel, followed by sudden silence. Someone, or something moved for the last time and hit the ground. You waited for any sign that, whoever it was, was still alive.

“Ahh… Fuck.”

Well, that almost definitely was a sound of being alive.

You rushed in the direction of the voice, whose owner, thankfully wasn’t far. A man was on the ground, leaning on the tree, pressing his hand on his thigh. In front of him lied a beast, its horny head detached from its body, slimy blood spilled all over the clearing. Your stomach flew to your throat, but you managed not to vomit at the sight. One deep breath and you looked back at the man. He was bleeding as well, but the difference between him and leshy was that he was still alive.

You walked to him slowly, he turned to you when you stepped on a twig.

“Who are you?” He asked in between sharp breaths. His hair was white and his eyes were oddly yellow.

“A healer. I can help you.” You kneeled next to him and looked at the wound on his thigh. It was deep, and he was losing a lot of blood. You pulled at the hem of your dress and ripped a long stripe, then tied it firmly above the wound. “Come, you need to get up. My home is not far away.”

You held him while he clumsily got up, and supported him while you walked out of the forest.

“So what’s your name, healer?”

“Y/N. And yours?”

“Geralt.”

That was the first time you’ve met Geralt. You healed his wound and said goodbye, believing it was the last time you’d see the white-haired man.

How foolish of you.

He passed your village multiple times, since beasts seemed to adore the forests and swamps surrounding it, and soon the Witcher was a frequent guest in town.

You were reading a book. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t see him, it was the fault of the heroine in the story, who was making the worst decision of her life.

It wasn’t a pretty picture, really. Geralt was talking to someone, and you just didn’t bother to look above your book. You smashed onto him, hitting him with the book, and hurting your nose badly on his broad back.

“Ouch…”

“What the hell are you doing?” He turned angrily, but his presence softened once he saw you. Not for long, as it seemed, since he started laughing at your miserable form, holding your nose with your palms and tears building in your eyes. He picked up the book you dropped. “I think that’s yours.”

That was the second time. You’ve had pleasant conversation with him, and discovered he also liked books, but haven’t had the time to read them anymore. Turned out he’s not just a pile of muscles and a nice voice.

Finally a day without a single patient. You could spend all calm day on the market, and unbothered buy food. Maybe you’d buy yourself a little treat, maybe a piece or two of peach pie…

You were buying apples when you heard a horse nearby. You smiled softly at Roach tied to a feeder near the inn and walked to her.

“Hello, Roach.” You caressed her head gently. She bumped your basket, full of fresh food. You fed her an apple. “And where’s your owner, huh?”

Suddenly you heard a loud noise in the inn and the door swung open.

“Witch– Witcher!” Geralt stormed out of the inn, the publican right behind him. You didn’t fail to notice how good the Witcher looked, his hair a mess and unbuttoned shirt. “Pay or I’ll swear my boys will kill you in your sleep.”

“You dare to threaten me?” Geralt turned back and faced the publican, who somehow got smaller under his burning sight.

“Geralt,” you called him, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s the problem?”

“He haven’t paid for his stay!” The publican shouted.

“I said I’ll pay later!”

“I don’t believe ya Witchers! One day you fuck a whore in my inn, the next day ya dead! And I am left with no money!”

“I’ll pay for him.” You gave the men a few coins.

“That’s not enough!”

“Well, remember about it the next time you drag your pregnant daughter to my house demanding an abortion. And I’ll maybe remember to not tell anyone about it.”

He reddened and, murmuring something under his nose, went back to the inn.

“Abortion?” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“He has five daughters, and each one is rather frivolous.”

He untied Roach and turned to you.

“Thank you. I’ll repay you, I promise.”

“I know.” You shrugged. “But maybe next time you’re here, stay at my place.”

You tried not to show how many sinful thoughts flew through your head.

He stayed a few times, arriving at the evenings and leaving early in the morning. Unspoken tension between you was enough to keep him away. It wasn’t that you were disappointed, only you were… a little disappointed.

Snow was falling into your eyes as you were trying to make your way back home. You treated a boy with fever, not sure if he would survive the night. The cold was merciless, piercing you through, and you forgot your cloak when you run out to save the boy. Only a thick sweater was protecting you from wind and snow. You cursed your stupidity, dreaming of warm fireplace waiting for you. There was one more thing keeping you warm, but you didn’t really want to admit it to yourself. You just couldn’t help it that his eyes reminded you of the sun.

You stepped onto frozen mud, your poor excuse for shoes not protecting you from sliding all across the puddle. With a squirm you tripped on ice, and waved your hands, trying to catch stability, inefficaciously, only making your situation worse. You were sure to hit the ground, but someone’s warm arm wrapped around you, protecting you from it.

“Geralt,” you gasped, still hanging above the ground.

“Hello, Y/N,” he laughed and pulled you up.

Only this time it was different.

You just… had a feeling. A feeling that you should be out, even though it was night. You wandered around the town, this weird feeling in your guts not allowing you to rest. Your intuition was strong, due to your grandmother being a minor witch, and almost never let you down. It was an unsettling thought, piercing you through, that something bad was going to happen.

You didn’t notice that you left the town and mindlessly walked to the forest. Cold air soothed your burning cheeks and scent of wet grass hit your nostrils. You knew you wouldn’t get lost in this forest, you knew it better than you knew yourself, so you walked deeper, letting your intuition guide you.

Everything was oddly silent. No birds singing, not even the bugs working their way through the bushes. You could barely see in the darkness, but you didn’t need a good sight to feel the blood hanging in the air.

One, two, three vampires, and between them the whitehaired Witcher. You watched the scene with parted lips, as they hypnotized him, one already sucking blood out of Geralt.

You had to help him. A silver knife shone in the moonlight when you took it out of your pocket, glad you took it with yourself. You pressed the blade on your arm and with a deep breath cut the skin deeply, not allowing yourself to whine in pain.

“Blood.” One of the vampires shot his head up.

“Blood.”

“Blood.”

“Human.”

You kept squeezing your fist to pump more blood out of the wound.

“Hey, assholes,” you shouted. “How about a dessert?”

Two of them left Geralt and run to you with awful screams, and it was enough for the Witcher to free himself from their power. You didn’t see him killing the vampire still sucking his blood, the two beasts already knocked you down, their cold, dead lips locked on your neck.

A groan was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

The ground was shaking when you woke up. You were flying, you were sure of it. Was this how death felt?

Your eyelids felt awfully heavy when you opened your eyes, the stars were shining on the dark sky. You moved your head. You weren’t dead. You were still in the forest, in someone’s arms.

“Geralt…” Your throat was sore, you were barely able to make a sound.

His jaw was clenched when you looked at him.

“You are… Stupid. Irresponsible. Do you even understand how big of a danger that was?” His voice was shaking from anger, but he tried not to shout.

You moved in his arms.

“Did you kill them?” He nodded. “Geralt, we have to go back.” You tried to fall on the ground, but he was holding you too tight. “Geralt, we need to bury them, their heads apart from their bodies, with iron nails in their skulls… And sprinkle poppy seeds–“

“I did it.”

“What’s with the poppy seeds, though?” You were taking without any sense. “Like… I know they’re supposed to obsessively count them, but do they really do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you mad at me? Don’t be mad at me, please.” You lifted your hand to touch, but it felt weightless. You had no feeling in your limbs, but you could move them. It must’ve been because of the loss of blood.

“Yes, I am mad at you. You should never put your life in danger, not for me, not for anyone else.”

“I wanted to help you.”

“You shouldn’t have. I was dealing with them perfectly fine without you.”

“No, you weren’t,” you snorted. “They were killing you, you needed my help.”

He stopped. You didn’t notice that you already left the forest and were standing in front of your house. He gently placed you on the ground, making sure you wouldn’t trip. Your head was dizzy, but you were able to open the door and walk inside. Familiar scent of candles and herbs soothed you.

“It would be much better if they killed me instead of hurting you,” you said, your back turned to him, as you lit the candles.

He held your arm, and pushed you against the nearby wall.

“No,” he said in a hoarse voice, anger glistening in his amber eyes. “Stop saying such stupid things.”

“Stop telling me I’m stupid!” You were over it. You helped him, and that’s how he thanks?

“How can I, if you obviously are?!”

“You shouldn’t save me then, leaving me as a meal would eliminate me from your life just fine!”

“You must have no idea what you’re saying.” His hands were clenched on your shoulders just like his jaw was clenched when he was talking to you with such anger.

“Enlighten me, then!”

It took him a split second to press his lips onto yours, and to melt you completely.

“Is that clear enough?” He asked in a husky voice, his face millimeters from yours.

“Not– Not really. You’d have to repeat that.”

Only you didn’t give him any time to repeat it, because you threw your arms over his neck and kissed him hurriedly, leaning on him, almost knocking him down. He smiled during the kiss, deepening it, his tongue slid into your mouth, inviting yours to play.

Within a second you forgot about everything, about the vampires, about how bad you felt after the attack. He was more than enough to make you forget.

He lifted you up, and bumped on a closet on the way to your bedroom, making you laugh, quickly silencing you with his tongue. Soon you felt cold sheets under your back, and Geralt’s fingers untying the ribbons of your dress. He slid the material down your shoulders, kissing every inch of the skin that was exposed to him.

He kissed your collarbone, lick the hollow underneath it, his tongue swiped down, to the delicate skin of your breasts and suddenly you weren’t in the mood for laughing. You sighed when he softly tugged the side of your breast, pulling the dress down, exposing your hardened nipples. With a silent groan he closed his warm mouth around one nipple, caressing it with the tip of his tongue. The other one he rolled in his fingers, releasing a moan from you, and you felt him smile at that sound. His big hands kneaded your breasts as he kissed the valley of them before sliding your dress even lower.

His lips never left your body as he made his way down, gently biting your waist, leaving a mark. By the time he got to your hips the heat between your legs was noticeable, just as how wet you were for him. He kissed one hipbone, then another, and ignoring your womanhood kept kissing until he reached your knee, and then, and only then he made his way up. In most torturous of ways he licked the skin of your inner thigh, left hot kisses above the wet trail and finally, after almost driving you crazy, reached your heat.

He didn’t plan to work his way fast. Oh no, he planned to feast on you.

He kissed your folds, yet that was enough to make you squirm. He stuck out his tongue and with just the tip licked a stripe through them, parting them for his warm lips.

“Mm,” he groaned against you “so wet already, and I haven’t even started properly.”

His deep voice was giving you goosebumps, but it was his tongue that made you grab his hair. He flattened it on your pussy, rubbing your clit and forcing a moan out of you. His hands massaged your thighs, but one of it slid to your folds, to the aching clit while he pushed his tongue into you. You arched your back as he worked you this way, his tongue in and out of you, his skilled fingers rubbing vicious circles on your clit.

“Fuck… Geralt, please, don’t stop,” you moaned time after time as he mercilessly drove you to the edge of sanity, forcing an orgasm out of you.

You were shaking as you came on his face, whispering pleads and his name, pleasure holding your throat tight enough for you to not scream. You mindlessly held his head pressed onto you, spasms of ecstasy making you come yet again around his tongue.

He pulled away, his wet mouth and chin glistened in the light of candles as he ripped his clothes and hovered over you. You kissed him, your taste spilled in your mouth as his tongue was dancing with yours.

You felt his hot shaft on your stomach, how it dripped on your skin, making you hungry for more, more of his body, more of his lips. He bucked his hips, caressing your overstimulated clit with his tip, collecting your slick. He slid into you easily, you caught his gasp in your mouth.

“So fucking tight,”  he whispered on your neck. “So marvelously tight…”

He pulled out only to push back in, and you were lost yet again, only now it was Geralt as well who lost control. As you expected, he wasn’t the one to be gentle.

He rammed into you like a wild animal, sounds of moans and wet bodies smacking filled the room and your ears. You reached above your head to hold the frame of the bed, but he had other plans. With sadistic smile he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them still as his other hand held firmly your hip, sure to leave bruises. All you could do was to wrap your legs around him to make him reach deeper, and moan when he buried himself balls deep into you.

His thrusts were fast and violent, his eyes travelled from your waving breasts to your parted lips, as you begged for more, for him to never stop.

“Gods– You fill me so fucking good–“ You squirmed as your whole body moved to his pace.

“That’s right,” he groaned, leaning over you as your muscles clenched hard on his length. “I want you to come all over my cock.”

You would never deny that order. A heat wave hit you hard, overtaking your body in its silky arms, as pleasure spilled all over your mind just as Geralt’s cum spilled deep inside your pussy. Your legs were shaking when you rode down your orgasm with his gasps near your ear.

He fell on the bed next to you, panting.

“So… So you care for me. If I got the message right,” you said in between heavy breaths and looked at him.

“Pretty much, yes.”

He also looked at you before you both laughed. He pulled you to a soft kiss before closing you in his warm arms. There was nothing that could disturb that night. Not when you felt so warm, so safe next to him.

You placed your head on his chest and soon the sleep surrounded you like a fog. And you dreamed, dreamed about amber eyes and clear blue skies.

 ___

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💖 - @omg-so-many-fandoms @iwannaendme

🖤 - @winterpoohbear

[fuckyeahisawthat]

One of the (many) little details I keep coming back to about Trust episodes 6 through 9, roughly, is the way Primo and Leonardo interact with Little Paul. Because there obviously is an essential power dynamic of “we’re kidnapping you” and if you challenge that you might get shot in the face. But within the bounds of that framework, they still see him as a person. And they really don’t go out of their way to be cruel to him just because they can. Quite the reverse, in fact. I’m trying to express this in a way that won’t be misinterpreted as “uwu soft kidnappers” because. They are not. Primo is extremely comfortable with using violence to get what he wants and he can be quite scary when he’s angry, and Leonardo may not be in a position where he has to get his hands dirty quite as often but he absolutely understands what he is part of. Which is why it’s so interesting when we see these brief tiny little moments of kindness or shared recognition of humanity between them.

Leonardo is a bit more open with it: the St. Christopher medal, picking out clean clothes out of his own wardrobe, giving Paul a hug both times they think they’re releasing him, helping him climb the mountain up to the cave even while they’re discussing what a MASSIVE problem they have on their hands, being so genuinely mystified at why his family won’t pay. (“If it was my son I would pay everything I had.”) What kind of monster doesn’t pay to save their own kid when they have so much money they wouldn’t even miss it?

Primo tends to express himself more through things like sharing drugs and threatening doctors. (I think it’s notable that when they show up with a vet and then a doctor, it’s Primo and Leonardo; Salvatore definitely can’t be bothered with this; and I really do not think Primo is only concerned with protecting himself here, even if he would never admit that.) The little moment that always gets me is Primo lighting a cigarette while they’re waiting for the ransom to arrive the first time around, noticing that Paul, in the back seat, looks like he really wants a cigarette, giving it to him and lighting another one for himself. He doesn’t have to do that, but he does, and this happens in the same scene where Primo tells Paul he’s going to die today.

(Despite what he says, that time he is able to talk himself down without Leonardo being there to do it for him.)

And it’s just...such a contrast to the way Paul’s own family members, except for Gail who actually cares about him, think of him as a business deal or a way to make a point or a pawn in a long psychological cold war between father and son. Like when an actualfacts mob boss is calling you heartless (ironically in a conversation where he’s talking about how Getty Sr. got old and stubborn), then something is deeply wrong with you. Trust really went all in with saying that growing up with a violent criminal organization embedded in every aspect of your life will make you a murderer but being a capitalist makes you a sociopath.

[empyreanwritings]

Almost Lost You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: near-death experience, mentions of blood loss, anxiety, minor angst with a happy ending

A/N: Look at me finally putting out a one-shot that isn’t mob related. Aren’t y’all proud of me? adklfjdsf this is written for @mycupoffanfiction​ ‘s writing challenge! My prompt will be bolded below - congrats on your milestone bby! you deserve all the followers in the world <3

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated (: x

The kitchen grew silent the moment you stepped into it. Everyone's eyes were on you, and you could tell they were gauging whether or not they could run over and hug you. Bucky was the first one up and pulling you into a hug, not caring if your body was still healing. You heard Natasha scolding him from her spot at the counter, but he didn't loosen his grip until you hugged him back.

One by one, the rest of the team walked over to give you hugs or gentle pats on the back. You pretended not to notice the way Natasha choked up when she came over to you. Almost losing you was hard on everyone, but she didn't want the others to think she was going soft.

"I'm surprised they discharged you already," Steve said as he made you a plate of eggs. "Did they have any say in the matter?"

"They did," you snorted. "Helen said I'm recovering a lot quicker than she expected. I can't go on assignments just yet, but I don't have to be cooped up in the med bay either."

"What's the damage?"

Bucky was the one to ask this question. Steve threw a glare over his shoulder, and the others didn't seem so pleased with it, but you smiled. It didn't bother you to talk about what the bomb did, especially with Bucky. He, of all people, knew what it was like to be scarred for the rest of your life. His metal arm was a constant reminder of who he used to be.

"The right side of my body was burned pretty bad, so there's going to be a lot of scarring once it's fully healed. Helen wanted to put me in the cradle and recreate the tissue, but I told her no, so we're doing it the old-fashioned way."

"Why? Wouldn't anyone want to keep themselves from being permanently damaged?"

You shrugged. "I think it's a good reminder that I'm still human. My powers may make me think I'm invincible, but I'm not."

There was a faraway look in Bucky's eyes when you said this, and you gave his shoulder a small squeeze to pull him out of his thoughts. He gave you a small smile and a nod before diving back into his breakfast.

By the looks on everyone else's faces, they didn't understand why you chose to heal naturally. The whole "I want to remember I'm human" reason didn't seem like a good enough reason to be scarred for the rest of your life, but you weren't going to explain it to them. There was nothing more to explain; you made a bad call in the middle of an assignment because you didn't think anything could ever hurt you, and you got hurt. You were feeling a lot more humble lately because of it.

You looked around the room, trying to spot the one person you've been craving to see since you woke up. Steve noticed your wandering eyes and shook his head - she hadn't joined anyone for breakfast since that day. She stayed locked in her room most of the time.

You stuffed the rest of your eggs into your mouth and quickly excused yourself to find Wanda. You felt a small twinge of anger at her for shutting herself away from everyone else - away from you. She never once visited you when you woke up, and while you appreciated everyone else's love, you really only wanted her company. Every day she didn't visit, you grew just a little more upset.

Wanda's eyes grew wide when she opened her bedroom door and found you standing on the other side. She silently took in your appearance; you noticed the way her eyes lingered on the bandages wrapped tightly around your arm and torso and sighed. It looked like it pained her to see you like this.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one you are avoiding." You pushed your way past her and made your way to her bed. You plopped onto the side you know she normally slept on and pulled one of her pillows on your lap. She didn't move from her spot by the door, and it only made the anger inside of you bubble up more.

You gestured to the corner of her room where her desk lamp lied in pieces on the floor. "What happened over there?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, right, nothing," you hummed in annoyance. "Because that certainly looks like nothing. You don't visit me in the med bay; you shut yourself in this room and avoid the rest of the team; and your desk lamp is broken, but it's nothing! Everything is fine and dandy in Wanda's head."

She shook her head. "Don't start, please."

"Don't start what? I'm just trying to understand why the hell you've been avoiding me!" You sat up and looked Wanda straight in the eye. You wanted to understand what she was feeling, and you wanted her to feel the heartbreak you felt when your best friend didn't come to check on you. But she broke your gaze and looked down at her feet. "I can understand the others because they're, sometimes, lame but me? I needed you, and you weren't there."

She stayed silent. She refused to look up at you and face the anger you clearly felt, and you let out a small, humorless laugh. If she didn't want to talk, you wouldn't force her. But you weren't going to sit around and wait for her, either.

You slid off her bed and made your way back to the door. You stopped in front of her, gave her a moment to see if she would say anything, but when she didn't, you scoffed and left without another word.

"Y/n, wait-" She tried to reach out for you, but she stopped in fear of grabbing the wrong arm. She didn't want to hurt you or make anything worse.

"No, forget it. I have nothing else to say to you. If you want to keep avoiding me and the rest of the team, that's fine."

"Please just listen to me for one second."

"Just tell me why you're being so fucking weird recently!"

She bit her lip. Tears started to well up in her eyes, and you felt your anger instantly dissipate. Seeing her so torn up made you forget why you were mad in the first place. You hated yourself for raising your voice at her, but she didn't give you time to take back your words because she was pulling you into a hug before she could.

"I'm in love with you," she sobbed as she nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck. "I'm in love with you, and I almost lost you. Do you understand how that felt for me? To hold you in my arms and watch the light literally leave your eyes?"

You weren't sure what to say. You had no idea what that must have been like for her - it was something you never had to experience, thankfully. While you were recovering from the blast, Wanda lived with the memories of watching you fade away from her. No matter how much she begged you to stay awake, no matter how much she wished it was her instead of you, you almost died. And she couldn't help but blame herself for not getting to your dumb ass sooner. Maybe she could have convinced you to be a little more cautious.

Maybe she could have saved you before the bomb went off.

"I took so many showers that night," she confessed quietly, "But I still couldn't get the feeling of your blood off my arms. I tried to come see you - I really did - but every time I stood outside your room, I just remembered the look on your face when you-"

You shushed her, not wanting to work herself up with the memories of what happened. She melted in your embrace when you started to run your fingers through her hair.

She thought she lost your touch forever. She thought she was going to have to live with the fact she loved you and never got to tell you. You could no longer be angry with her for not visiting you because you couldn't imagine that kind of torture.

If you lost Wanda…you weren’t sure you'd be able to keep it together.

You weren't sure how long she stood in your arms, but you had no intention of making her move until she was ready. She needed the chance to enjoy having you back, and you weren't going to take that away from her. Even if your legs were starting to fall asleep from standing so straight.

At one point, Bucky and Steve were making their way towards the hallway, but you quickly shook your head and made them turn in the other direction. Wanda would be horrified if she knew the others saw her breaking down like this. They could handle not going back to their room for another hour or so.

Wanda pulled away slowly and wiped at her eyes to control some of the mascara that was running down her cheeks.

"I look like a mess, don't I?"

You shook your head. "You look beautiful as always."

"I didn't mean for all that to come out," she murmured. "You don't have to say anything back. I understand that I unloaded a lot on you."

There was a lot you wanted to say. If you could take back the stupid decisions you made, you would. You didn't think about how your actions would affect those around you, and you should have. You were aware of that now. You could spend the rest of your life making up for what you did, but no one would ever ask you to do that.

You saved a lot of citizens that day. As much as your team hated what you did, they knew what would have happened if you didn't take the risk.

Wanda waited for you to say something. You could tell by the way she rocked back and forth on her feet that she felt awkward, but she wasn't going to admit that out loud. She had done enough confessing to last a lifetime.

"Ya know, I think I've loved you since the day we met," you replied after another beat of silence.

"You did not!" She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "You're such a liar. You're only saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm not, I really think I did!"

"Stop, you're literally such a liar. We hated each other when we first met."

You gasped. "Did not! I didn't particularly like you because you knocked me on my ass and looked hot as hell while doing it, but I could never hate you."

She looked back down at her feet, trying to conceal the smile on her face with her hair, but it was useless. You already saw it before she even had a chance to hide, and it made a smile grow on your face as well. You thought about making a cheesy comment about how she had the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, but she wouldn't believe you. Yet.

"There's the smile I love seeing," you teased and gave her side a gentle nudge. "Do you want to get some breakfast?"

"I'm okay. I actually haven't slept yet, and I think my energy is officially sapped from my body." You nodded, taking a step back so she can have some air. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

Your eyebrows raised, and your smile grew wider at her word. "Oh?"

"I mean, I just-" She huffed. "I'm just saying, I know you probably didn't sleep well in the med bay, so if you wanted to catch up on sleep, you can do it in my room."

"You don't have to ask me twice, darling."

Wanda stepped aside and let you back into the room. You took a few steps forward but stopped before you went too far. She began to question your actions, but you whirled around and pulled her back into an embrace, this time taking the chance to finally kiss her.

Your hands were on her cheeks. You felt her hesitate for the slightest moment, but she eased into it before you could step back and wonder if this was okay. The second her hands found your hips and pulled you closer, you knew she was more than okay with this moment.

It wasn't a passionate kiss; it was slow and tender. It was your way of reminding her that you were okay, and you weren't going to leave her any time soon. Comfort. Love. Need. The kiss was everything you wanted to say but couldn't find the words to truly convey how you felt, and it was more than enough for Wanda. For the first time since the accident, she felt like she could finally breathe.

"Believe me now?" You mumbled against her lips.

She hummed in amusement. "Not for a second."

"I guess I'll have to keep trying."

"I guess you'll have to."

[tmntallthewaydown]

Tales of the Hidden City Writing Appreciation Post Pt.1!

The last batch of episodes, Tales of the Hidden City, were excellent. As an animator, it’s easy to get bowled over by the visuals of the show and just rant about those, but I wanted to spotlight another awesome part of Rise of TMNT -- the writing!

The writing is always fun in the show, but there were parts of these episodes that I really wanted to call out for how clever and great they are.

Each of the Tales of the Hidden City eps puts the characters in a situation where their strengths are negated or challenged. (Also, big cheer for a bunch of episodes finally exploring the Hidden City. It’s such a fun location, I want to see it all.)

Donnie Vs Witch Town  an episode where Donnie’s tech can’t solve the problem Raph’s Ride Along  an episode where Raph’s heroics are seen as anything but Hidden City’s Most Wanted  an episode where Mikey’s peacekeeping can’t keep the peace Bad Hair Day  an episode where the face man’s face ain’t enough

I figured I’d do a separate post for each episode so it doesn’t get over-long. 

I’ll be focusing on character development mainly since that’s what stood out to me most!

Donnie Vs Witch Town

Directed by Abe Audish, Written by Ian Busch, Storyboarded by Alicia Chan

*Spoilers for the episode!* I won’t do full recaps, and assume you’ve all seen the ep if you’re reading this..

We start with Donnie referencing the Shadow Fiend in the Battle Nexus. 

“Rumour has it, this Shadow Fiend is quite the fierce champion”

I’m assuming this line’s here because the writers want to keep dropping us tantalizing crumbs to set up the Shadow Fiend as being an important figure in this season. The writers want to keep them present and in our minds as well as let us know that whoever the fiend is, (I bet we all have guesses), they’ve gotta be making quite the name for themselves if even the Turtles have heard of them.

April says she’s headed to Witch Town, whereupon Donnie is horrified. I think horrified is the right word.

“Drop it, D.” “Why not ask me? Mr Science!”

The “Drop it, D” is an elegant way to imply this conversation is a continuation of one they were having pre-episode. April is already very done with the discussion.

Donnie’s line is great because it’s one of two times in this episode that he calls himself ‘Mr Science’ or ‘The Science Guy’. Here, the line comes off as triumphant and proud, but later there is a feeling of desperation to it. It’s a really nice parallel to set up at the beginning, so we can hammer home the duality of what that label means to Donnie.

To preface, this episode deals with Don’s self worth being tangled up in his ability to do Science good. Because of this, he does a lot of projecting in this episode. For the most part, you can assume any time he mentions ‘Science’, he is actually talking about himself. Basically, substitute that word for his own name, and it makes the subtext more obvious.

Here, have these just because they’re fun.

Don ‘helping out’ with various Science Fair projects. April has a good reason not to ask him for help again.

A nuclear powered cooking multi-tool?

The Erupting Volcano. The floor is literally lava.

The Classic Potato Battery experiment.

“Hmm. That must have been the work of another Teenage Mutant Ninja Dummie.”

I’m calling out Donnie’s response here just because I enjoy the consistency the writers give to the way he handles failures. Innnnn that he will feign complete ignorance of the incident and claim it must have been someone else entirely.

--

“You turned a cuddly animatronic bear into a psychotic robot bent on destroying us? No? Got April Fired? Mmm? Nothing? Mmm?” “That does not sound like me, no.”

- from Al Be Back

--

In general it’s an established part of his character that he has problems accepting failure.

Donnie deflects blame in many other episodes - to April in ‘The Purple Jacket’ and to his brothers in ‘Todd Scouts’ off the top of my head. This trait is pertinent to this episode in particular because the apology we get at the end of the episode from him is by far the most full and cohesive admission of blame he has given in the two series so far. I’d say it’s a step forward on the level of Leo’s apology from the ‘Air Turtle’ episode (another great episode showing Leo’s growth towards becoming a team player!). 

Either way, it’s nice that we see him redirect the blame early in the episode so the moment can provide more of a contrast to him coming full circle and accepting the blame later.

One last thing about the line - I put my hands up to admit that this may be me overthinking it, but Don essentially calls himself a dummie here. Whether this was intentional by the writers to hint at his insecurities or just a fun line, I couldn’t say - but since it relates back to events later in the episode I thought it might be worth mentioning.

Moving on, Donnie accompanies April to Witch Town despite it being the last place he wants to be. It’s our first hint that his obsessive need to convince April that all Mystic stuff is garbage might run a bit deeper than just vocal teasing. 

April calls him out on being closed minded and we get

“Oh I’m sorry, I was just stewing over how everyone needs to be more like me.”

Of course we know that’s not how he really feels, as we’ve all seen that episode.

The writing here is nice and subtle. It lets us know that Donnie isn’t being honest. He’s giving April sass, but the sentiment he’s expressing is false.

The episode continues with Donnie comparing every feat of magic to it’s scientific equivalent until April essentially tells him to can it if he doesn’t want a bat to the plastron. The witches show off, prompting exclamations from April at how amazing their magic is.

Then we get one of my favourite lines from Donnie as he snaps.

“Your Mystic Magic is not amazing, it’s simple and soft. There, I said it.”

That soft is a word that Donnie would use as an insult, associating it with something he dislikes and looks down on, is very affecting. You know what else is soft?

The writing here is so revealing and wonderful. They could have used any insult, but the writers chose to have him express his frustration in a way that sheds light on the way Donnie sees himself. It gets right to the root of the problem he has in this episode, which is that without his science and tech, Donnie doesn’t feel like he is particularly ‘Amazing’ either.

That April calling magic amazing is what prompt’s Don’s snap, rather than any of the words of the townsfolk, is one of the clues we’re given to the truth behind D’s drive in this episode. The writers will bring that back later on!

So April and Don are kicked outta Witch Town when Don’s improv musical performance to convince April to let him help her instead ends up blowing up in his face.

Popping this here because watching Donnie get deservedly smacked by April at this point was very cathartic for me. Dingus.

Donnie offers to help the witches in return for them helping April. It seems sweet at first, but it becomes plain fairly fast that this is really another opportunity for D to try and prove that science is king.

“Ah would you look at that. Banished, and I still saved the day.” “Wait, is that why you did this?” “Nooo! It’s because I was sorry - about being closed minded - about how wrong I were.”

Again, it’s up to the writers to show us that Donnie is lying about his motivations here. That little bit of incorrect grammar (saying ‘were’ instead of ‘was’), calls out to us that something is up. Donnie is smart, and it’s out of character for him to word things sloppily. It lets us know that all is not well, and that things are yet to be resolved, internally at least.

I couldn’t help calling out this wonderful posing, even though I’m trying to focus on the writing. It really sells us on the dissatisfaction brewing between them. Gorgeous acting from the animators.

The peace offering potion the witches were making seems to work, and Donnie wastes no time in trying to rub their faces in the fact that science provided one of the ingredients - until it becomes clear that Donnie’s contribution has soured the brew. He tries to avoid blame and responsibility, as we’ve seen him do in previous episodes (and earlier in this one). Nothing I’m calling out here besides the novelty of seeing a mob of witches trying to lynch a scientist - a bit of a historical reversal!

The big bad is storming Witch Town and Donnie gets ready to smack down - specifically “because when I defeat it with my tech, they will have to admit science is better!”

It’s worth saying that on the word ‘they’, he points directly at April. Because as we’re about to discover, it’s not actually proving to these random villagers that Science is best that’s important to him (though maybe that would be nice), but about proving to April specifically that Science is best. Thank you animators/storyboarders for making that subtext more explicit!

At this point we as the audience have had it up to here with Donnie’s bullheadedness. The reveal that D’s gripe is personal and April/brother specific, rather than just a frustration with Witch Town in general, goes some way to explaining why he is so obsessive over it.

Donnie’s Tech Bo breaks in the conflict, and we get the awesome reveal of April’s Mystic Bat. She is of course, badass with it and kicks butt. April saving Donnie’s hide with Mystic Magic prompts the confrontation between them that is the emotional heart of the episode.

“Why are you so obsessed with proving me wrong on this!?” “Because! I’m the Science Guy! (sigh) If Mystic Powers can do everything I can do but better, then why would you guys even need me?”

Here is the payoff to the opening ‘Mr Science’ line from earlier in the episode. The wording is similar, however this time the line is tinged with defeat. The duality revealed is that Science makes Don feel powerful, but without it, he feels powerless.

The visuals that go hand in hand with the dialog are very telling here, too.

The image of Donnie holding his broken Tech Bo isn’t just to show us that his technology isn’t enough to win, that it can be broken. It’s also showing us how he sees himself, drawing a direct comparison between Donnie and his broken Tech. He’s not always perfect, but he’s ultimately useful, right? Until he’s not. I’ve no doubt that this was a deliberate move from the Storyboarders, and I think they sold the moment brilliantly.

His words make it clear that Donnie believes that “if Mystic Powers can do everything I can do but better”, ie, help April with her project without blowing her classroom up, why would she not keep going to Mystics instead of him in the future? 

With her not ‘needing’ him for scientific assistance any more, he sees no reason for her to continue hanging out with him. This ties back to the clues the writers dropped earlier in the episode, that suggest he doesn’t regard himself highly without his science. 

The obsession this episode with disproving how ‘Amazing’ Mystic Magic is in front of April makes a lot more sense through the lens that he is fighting to keep April’s friendship.

“You Guys” expands this sentiment to include the rest of his family. If his tech ends up letting down the team and is unneeded then by extension, he would also be unneeded.

As viewers, we know this is untrue. Even beyond the fact that these characters rely on one another emotionally, we saw Don fight alongside his brothers in ‘Insane in the Mama Train’ - all of them tech-less and Mystic-less - and they kicked butt, even if they did end up being eventually captured. However, it’s clear from the writing here that this isn’t how Donatello himself feels.

“You’re not important to me because of your tech, you’re important to me because of you! I don’t think Mystic Powers is better than Science. If anything, they’re stronger together, just like us! Right?” “Right!”

April’s comeback is wonderful. Super eloquently written and gets right to the heart of his insecurities. First undermining the thought that if Don didn’t have tech, she wouldn’t need him, then framing Mystic Powers as something that will bring them closer together. Beautiful writing! 

I also want to just celebrate how the writers handle April’s characterisation as being someone who is super excited and curious about any kind of Mystic Magic or supernatural shenanigans. I really like this consistency in her character where she is way into anything otherworldly or unexplained. I hope we get to see more of it in the future!

We get to see April and Donnie kick butt together which super fun! I’m very happy we got another episode with these two, the way they bounce off one another is really enjoyable to watch.

“I was wrong to not be more open-minded. It’s just that Mystic Powers are the one thing I have not been able to solve. As a man of Science, it is maddening to finally come upon something that you do not understand. Especially when your dum-dum brothers totally do, and they wave their dum-dum weapons in their dum-dum hands all the dum-dum time! But that is just a long way of saying I am sorry’.

The apology is very articulate, letting us know that D is truthful here. It’s a nice little payoff when compared to his earlier lie with April, where the writers had him fudge his words to imply his dishonesty. 

April actually believes him this time too, judging by the lovely acting here. 

 We’re treated to this perspective on Donnie’s feelings, which reveals a couple of interesting things to us. ‘The one thing I have not been able to solve’ indicates that he has previously attempted - and failed - to understand Mystic stuff, which is new information. It goes against our impressions from the rest of the series so far (that he is simply disinterested). We also learn that his brothers’ understanding of their powers has created a knowledge imbalance that is a frustration to him. I very much hope that the show keeps taking steps in this direction with Donnie, just because I would love to see an arc that results in him getting more involved with the Mystic side of things.

To wrap up the episode, I really appreciated the way the writers handled the internal conflict in Donnie Vs Witch Town. There was a lot of subtlety and subtext in the writing, which I am absolutely here for. Donnie’s end reveal really recontextualizes the earlier shenanigans in a meaningful way, and marks a step forward for him. April has her Bat now, and Don is a little more open to Mystic Powers as a possibility! I’m excited to see where we go next! 

Thanks for sticking with me, if you got to the end, and I hope you found it as interesting as I did! ‘Raph’s Ride along’ is the next ep I’ll dig into.

[geraskierficrecs]

Part One 

Sorry for the long delays, but Tumblr ate the story the first time I posted so I had to rewrite.

Watching Jaskier run from the house with devastation carved into his face hurt worse than any blow he’d been dealt.

Geralt started forward, numb legs sluggish with a grief too terrible to bear, but familiar hands pulled him to a stop.

“Don’t--” Yennefer’s voice was rough with her own demons, but she clung to him with determination in her strange eyes, “--we had to do this.”

“Did you see him?” he snarled, trying to summon anger in an effort to push aside the reality of all he’d just broken.  “He--he’s...”

“It’s the only way to keep him safe.”

“He’ll never forgive me.”

Yennefer opened her mouth, but it was another voice who answered him.

“How could you?” They both turned to see Ciri standing next to the doorway Jaskier had disappeared through with a cold fury in her eyes.  “He trusted you.  He trusted both of you!”

He loved you, she didn’t say.  They already knew.

“Ciri...” Yennefer began, but Ciri shook her head.

“How many times will you break his heart before you’re satisfied?” Ciri hissed and Geralt flinched like she’d struck him.

His tongue felt thick in his mouth and he could feel his eyes burning at the thought of how easy it had been to destroy everything they had built with Jaskier here.  Geralt tried to remember the way Jaskier had smiled at him--wide and trusting--just that morning when he’d declared that he was heading into town to get some things from the market.  Already the house felt empty, cracks appearing in the walls like without the bard to hold it together the house began to fall apart.

If he closed his eyes he knew he would see the look in Jaskier’s eyes the moment he’d seen Yennefer and Geralt.  It had been so easy for him to believe the worst.

“It’s not what you think,” Yennefer tried again, hands held out to match the pleading in her expression.  “We’re trying to save him.”

Ciri’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits and Geralt wondered if she would attack them for what they’d done.  “What is there left to save?  You’ve taken everything.”

His child surprise didn’t give them a chance to respond.  She just turned on her heel and left the house to chase after Jaskier.  After a beat, Yennefer followed.

Geralt stayed behind, listening to the ghosts of his own happiness die in the silence of the empty house.

_____________________________________________________________________

It started with a whisper.

“They’re coming for you, Witcher.”

Geralt hadn’t taken the dying words of the hag to heart.  It wasn’t the first time one of the creatures he’d hunted promised revenge with their dying breath and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.  His mind had been full of anticipation for returning home to his family.  To Jaskier.

The next mention had been a fluke.

He’d been passing through a town and, through habit, checked the message boards for any odd jobs he could complete for a little extra money on his way to Novigrad for work.  There had been a few of the usual missives from locals searching for missing livestock or begging for someone to assist in work.  He scanned them without interest until his eyes settled on a rough piece of parchment, faded by the weather.

At the center of the page was a roughly drawn medallion that burned with dark flames.  The page made no mention of any work or needs, just the strange symbol and a short message beneath.

Feras morte.

Death to monsters.

Geralt stared at it for another moment before carefully pulling the page free from the message board and tucking it into his pack.  He resolved to find out more while he was Novigrad.

____________________________________________________________________

They called themselves The Order.

They were the kind of fanatical movement that made Geralt want to avoid humanity for good.  Their focus had originally been altruistic--to protect humanity from the beasts and magical nightmares that roamed the land when Witchers didn’t arrive fast enough.  They traveled in groups to areas plagued by barghest and noon wraiths had terrorized villagers.  Through luck and growing skill, they began to make a name for themselves as champions of the people--a more palatable alternative to calling a Witcher for assistance.

With their popularity growing, a more sinister element of their beliefs became more obvious.  Since the first Witcher had stepped foot on the Continent, they’d been targeted almost immediately for their unnatural new biology and abilities.  Geralt had been run out of more than a few cities just because of the odd color of his eyes so the news that a group of human labeled his Witcher brethren in the same categories as the monsters they hunted wasn’t surprising.

Whatever the Order’s altruistic intents originally, they had wandered into darker realms once they gained a following.

Anything that was not fully human was considered a threat.  For the first time in centuries, the Continent was home to witch burnings and mob attacks on children born with strange birthmarks or eerie features.  They followed the path of wars and fed on the bitterness that lingered among the survivors.  The Order gave the people of the Continent a new target for their anger.

Monsters--though the term became more flexible the longer they were around.

His contacts in Novigrad weren’t sure where the group had begun, but it was easy to track where they’d moved from the trail of bodies left in their wake.  Dopplers.  Hags.  Hedgewitches.  All burned to ash on massive pyres left at the edges of each village as a warning to the next--along with anyone foolish enough to try to protect them.

Geralt’s disdain for the blatant abuses of power and widespread violence slowly became tempered by a new fear.  The Order seem able to move as they wanted without any response from local leaders too afraid of risking their wrath.  They seemed an unstoppable force eager to continue their bloody crusade against anyone or anything that did not meet their standards for purity and innocence.

He was in Temeria when he found the dead Witcher.

There was little left of the warrior aside from burnt, tarnished medallion that had once hung proudly from his neck and the steel sword he must have wielded.

Silver for monsters.  Steel for humans.

The blade had been shattered into two pieces that were tossed alongside the burning remains of his bones.  Geralt crouched beside it, hands passing over the scarred metal and meager remains of a life spent fighting for people who’d turned on him just as easily.

“Did you know him?”

Geralt turned at the soft voice, frowning at the woman standing at the edge of the trees.  Her face was marked with age and deep sadness that seemed unending. 

“No,” he said gruffly.

She hummed, looking back at the pyre.  “Perhaps it’s better that way.”

“Why’s that?”

The hand that trembled out was blackened along the fingertips with ash as she pointed toward the smoldering pit.  “Those he loved lay there beside him.”

Geralt froze, something like horror in his expression.  He looked back at the pyre once more, eyes picking out the bits of bones. “What?”

“That’s how the Order got him to surrender,” she said, “They told him they would spare the woman--Anna--and her child that he liked to visit in the village.  He’d saved them from the creature who’d taken the girl’s father, you see, and he liked to check up on them whenever he passed by.  Sirret was a gentle soul despite his calling--he only wanted to make sure they were safe.  So he threw down his sword without a fight when the Order called for it and let them beat him and drag him through the town to the sounds of their mockery.”

“Then they killed him.”  Geralt’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles went white.

The old woman’s eyes were dark with tragedy.  “They killed the girl first, after a time.  Then the mother was put out of her misery when her injuries became too much.  Sirret...the Witcher held on for much longer.”

The broken sword suddenly seemed as morbid as a tomb.

He took a breath full of smoke and death and tried not to think about a bard choking on blood and a foolish wish.  “Where did the Order go?”

____________________________________________________________________

“They’re too close.  We need to do something.”

“What can we do that we haven’t already tried?” Geralt snapped, “I’ve been hunting them for months, but all I’ve managed to do is kill off a few of their soldiers.”

He carefully didn’t think about the promises they’d spat at him as they lay dying.  Promises of pain and suffering beyond what anyone should bear.

Yennefer tossed back the last of the wine in her goblet and scowled down at the mess of messages, maps, and bits of notes sprawled across the table.  They’d met at the tavern in the city closest to their cottage in an effort to keep the information far away from Jaskier and Ciri’s wandering eyes.  So far, it hadn’t seemed to help.

Yenn had been the only one he’d dared to tell about the Order--as though admitting their presence would allow them to creep closer.  Her contacts through Aretuza had made it easier to track where the Order had been most active, but continued to offer no solutions as to how to stop them.  Ciri and Jaskier were far too important to risk as targets in someone’s campaign to destroy everything they considered dangerous.

“Whoever they are, they’re going to come for us soon.  You know this.  They know we’re hunting them--that makes us a threat.”  Yennefer’s voice was firm despite the anxiety he could sense hanging in the air around them.

Geralt didn't respond.  It was the same argument they’d been having for weeks.  How could they protect Jaskier and Ciri from these horrors?

“Ciri will have to stay with us--she’s too valuable to risk letting them get their hands on her.  They’d probably consider her to be a ‘tainted’ bloodline anyway.”

“And Jaskier?” he bit out, “Do you intend to leave him behind while you run off with Ciri?”

Yenn glared at him.  “You know I don’t.”

Whatever their relationship might have been at one time, the mage and the bard were practically inseparable now.

Geralt scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed.  “We can’t let the Order torture him to try to hurt us.  He has to be safe.”

The burnt Witcher’s medallion in his pack seemed to laugh at him.

“There’s...” Yennefer sounded oddly reticent and he looked over at her curiously, “We could make Jaskier leave us.”

He shook his head.  “He would never do that.  Especially if he knew that we were in danger.”

“So we don’t let him know the Order is after us.”

“And say what? ‘Hey Jask..why don’t you stay at the University for the season?’  He’s not an idiot--he’d want to know why.”

Yennefer ran a finger over a drop of wine left on the table, face downcast.  “What if we made him want to leave?”

________________________________________________________________

Days later, Geralt watched Jaskier run out of the house and pretended it didn’t feel like his world was burning down around him.