#i know this has been sitting in my inbox for a bit oop

[hanlengjun]

Mizi reaches up and brushes Mobei Jun’s hair behind his ear. “You look really nice today.”

Do not stroke the already inflated ego. It will do no one good except spoil Mobei Jun rotten.

"Hh. You like my face." He snorts, "Good."

[yuyusuyu]

bloody hell — the emos

synopsis. oh, if only, if only she hadn't crossed paths with him. then maybe, just maybe, all of this could've been avoided... except, it was bound to happen by fate. there was no escaping the fate that was given to you at birth.

pairing. ot8! vampire! ateez x fem! reader (not poly! everyone will have their own ending!)

genres/aus. vampire au, suspense, romance, angst, slow burn

warnings. mentions of being watched, cursing, a kms joke oops. if there's anything i should add, please lmk !

rating. pg-13

wc. 3.2k lol...

a/n. this was nawt proofread... super duperrr sorry for uploading late !! was very busy and am very busy right now but things should calm down during december !! this is also a long chapter bc i deadass forgot to include the first part last chapter LOLLLL

send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

TODAY IS CLOUDY AND SOMEWHAT CHILLY, though you don't mind it. you see people who are bundled up with scarves hanging around their necks, some of them even wearing mittens to protect their skin from the biting chill in the air. september has its own few days of cold before october settles in, today being one of them.

you rip your eyes from passing students down to the bag in your hand, the plastic wrinkling as you shift on your feet to lean against the familiar black car beside you. jongho’s borrowed clothes lay folded neatly inside, smelling of the expensive kind of detergent you bought to wash it. you sigh and close your eyes, your head hurting just thinking about how much the detergent cost. jongho doesn’t care about these things, you know that, yet you can’t help but care when it comes to him.

it’s no question that he’s well off, maybe even rich but you can’t gauge just how much he is. you’ve been aware of such things ever since you first met him three years ago, how your classmates from then used to whisper about the things he wore, his belongings, everything. and so you’re so painfully aware of it all now, the expensive things he owns, how you’re extra careful around him at times.

though he may not be like her, flaunting around the wealth he has and making snide remarks about how you should be careful or how poor you are, you don’t want to risk it.

she’s made you have these bad habits, the ones where you care too much over things like this that shouldn’t matter.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting long.”

jongho wears a beanie, hiding the purple streaks in his hair from your eyes. he rounds the car and opens one of the back doors, dumping his practice bag and his backpack in the backseat. you hop inside his car quietly and buckle your seatbelt just as he sits in the driver’s seat.

“you didn’t take long,” you say, glancing at him.

he hums and sits quietly, shoulders slumping just the slightest bit.

“are you… okay?”

jongho tilts his head to look at you, a tired smile on his lips. “yeah,” he breathes out, “it’s just been,” he pauses, “a long day.”

by the way he sits up to start the car, by how his shoulders relax and tense all at the same time, you decide to not ask him about it and keep quiet, watching as jongho drives away from the campus.

“do you want me to pick him up?”

you turn away from the window and blink at the male. “what?”

jongho’s lips quirk upwards, clearly amused. “we’re here already. you know,” he points at the middle school building on the other side of the street from where he’s parked the car, “kou’s school.” he leans over the control board, and presses his index finger to your forehead, pushing your head back. “what’s got you distracted, hm?”

you open your mouth to reply, finding that it’s dry but you’re interrupted by the swinging door from behind jongho’s seat. jongho leans away from you as your brother gets inside the car, sporting a bright and infectious smile.

“sis!” kou drops his backpack by his feet after closing the door, hurling himself at you and attempting to hug you. you laugh when he pulls away, rubbing his head after hitting it against the roof of the car.

“woah there, little guy,” jongho says, his dark eyes gleaming with mirth, “careful.”

kou apologizes, smiling sheepishly at him. “hyung,” he says, settling in the backseat, “are you staying tonight?”

“sure am, champ.” the older male watches kou through the rearview mirror, only putting the car in drive once he’s buckled up.

the eleven year old gushes about his day: what he learned in math and science, how literature class was boring, how he and his friends played a lot during their break. you don’t register jongho’s taken you to the mall until kou starts pouting and wishes you wouldn’t have to work today so you can spend time with him and his hyung. you have to promise to dedicate saturday to only him and jongho, and that’s when kou beams and lets you leave.

“no way you just got here.”

“oh shut up, mingi.” you roll your eyes at the male that twists around to walk right in front of you. “you’re going to trip if you keep walking backwards like that.”

mingi shrugs. “i’ll be fine,” he says, “but how come you’re just arriving?” he raises an eyebrow at you. “you’re an early bird.”

“nosey much?” you mumble, walking past him in a hurry, “hurry the fuck up, mingi. we have less than ten minutes to get to the store.”

the tall male loudly laughs, clearly entertained by your behavior, and follows closely behind you, pestering you with questions.

mingi leans down, wearing a look of disgust as he glances between you and the incoming flock of people. “the emos just keep coming and coming,” he whispers, standing up straight and walking out towards the cashier to tend to the person waiting to buy their items. mingi grins at them, leaving you alone to roll your eyes as you focus back on the task at hand: unboxing and sorting the new merchandise onto the shelves.

which should be mingi’s job right now.

true to mingi’s words, the emos do keep filing into the store to keep buying the edgy jewelry in stock, just like every tuesday evening and the ones before that. you huff through your nose, wiggling your fingers and stretching your arms just as mingi walks into the back, your closing shift manager praising him for getting through the emo rush in one piece while they go to flip the open sign to the closed side.

“kill me now,” mingi groans, dramatically flopping onto the makeshift chair you two had made earlier before the emo rush started (something mingi prides himself for coming up with) and falls through it because you had emptied it long ago. “the emos need to find a new store for their stupid shit!” his hands fly up and attempt to tug at his long, black hair, trying to play it cool as he quickly stands up and dusts his baggy jeans.

you snort and bite your tongue to hold back a laugh when your coworker glares at you. leaning down to grab the last couple of shirts in a box before walking back into the store, mingi follows after you with an unopened box in his hand. “you also like that stupid shit they wear… you know, the jewelry. so doesn’t that make you an emo, too?”

mingi gasps, slapping your arm as you two stand next to each other. you chortle as he tears the box open with a cutter, grumbling about how foul it was of you to say that about him. “you’re evil,” he says, lazily throwing shirts and shirts onto the shelves. “how could you call me an emo? do you know how derogatory that term is to me? and this jewelry is mine, so the emos can go suck a nut and find a different store!”

laughing, you place the last shirt in your hand onto the shelf, giving mingi’s back a singular pat. “right, sorry,” you cough. “you’re definitely… not an emo… my bad.”

puffing his chest out, the pink haired male points at the box at his feet, crossing his arms afterwards. “apology accepted… only if you help me with the last box.”

“oh no,” you take a step back, arms raised in the air as you shake your head. “i’m not helping you. you basically left me alone to go through twenty damn boxes while you handled the emos. that’s my job. you’re not very slick when it comes to trying to get out of the things you have to do, mingi.”

mingi scoffs and narrows his eyes. “actually, you were supposed to do that today and i was supposed to be out at the cashier.” when you deadpan and point at something behind him, mingi raises his eyebrow before turning around. he gulps and looks back at you, smiling sheepishly.

you, as always, are right: you were going to be at the cashier and mingi was going to unload the boxes.

“well…”

“well…” you repeat his words, smiling in amusement as mingi scratches the back of his neck.

“well… the manager actually said that they forgot to change the board for today!”

“mingi, i literally saw the manager change the board today when you clocked in late.” you grimace at him, “by the way, how the hell did that even happen? we got here at the same time.”

the male gapes at you. “what? no, he didn’t! don’t lie to me, yn! and… actually, i have no excuse for clocking in late.”

you shrug, walking into the employee room. “i’ll ask the manager and send proof later!”

“what? yn, wait! don’t—”

you grin, twirling around and taking a step back at how mingi is quite literally right behind. you’re surprised at how quick he was able to get to you. clearing your throat, you turn back and head towards the locker you put your things in. “i’m just messing with you, mingi.”

“oh thank goodness,” he says, sighing and heading over to where he put his things.

the first thing you grab upon opening your locker is your phone, turn it on and read the messages jongho sent you.

jjongs: hey, i won’t be able to pick you up tonight

jjongs: i just finished helping him with his homework and he wants me to read him a story

jjongs: i won’t be able to get there in time when you get out

you sigh.

you: don’t worry about it, jjongs

jjongs: i’m so sorry

you: i said it’s ok

jjongs: text me when you’re on your way so i can come out and get you

you: seeing me outside my own apartment building is sooo romantic and chivalrous of you

jjongs: can’t have a fair lady like yourself be out in the dark for long

you: LOL?

jjongs: oooo you want me so bad

you: in your dreams wtf

you: i’m leaving the store right now so i’ll text you once i’m out

jjongs: ok

you and mingi shut your lockers at the same time, a loud thud resonating in the room. then, the two of you walk out, making sure to say goodbye to the closing shift manager before heading out of the store, walking down the almost empty halls of the mall. once outside, you quickly bid mingi goodbye and take a step forward when mingi speaks.

“it’s really late,” he says, looking down at his phone with furrowed eyebrows. he puts it back into the pocket of his jacket, stuffing his hands into them and looks up at you. “i’ll walk you home.”

you sigh and smile, shaking your head. “i live far away, and i have to take two buses to get back. i wouldn’t want to bother you anyways.”

mingi looks at you through squinted eyes. “it’s late and it’s dangerous for women to be out at this time. i don’t want to be lonely without having my favorite coworker around to bug all because you decided to walk alone at night,” he huffs.

“damn,” you say, eyes slightly wide as you raise your arms up in mock surrender. “okay, fine. you win. you can come along, but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

“puh-lease,” mingi snorts, joining you as you walk towards the bus stop. “how far could you possibly live from this place?

“holy shit, you really weren’t lying when you said that you lived far away.” mingi gasps as you two exit the last bus you had to take to get to your apartment.

you glance at mingi from the corner of your eye. “there’s still some walking to do if you’re still so adamant on seeing me off. honestly,” you sigh, stopping. “you really didn’t have to come all the way here, mingi. i’ve been doing this for a while, so i’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“i don’t care,” mingi says, crossing his arms over his chest. “i’m being a good friend right now.”

“a good friend?” you tilt your head, surprised. “since when did we become good friends?”

“since we started working together,” he replies, his tone so serious that it takes you aback.

you didn’t know he considered you as such.

“how are we supposed to be good friends when we barely know each other and only work together a couple days every week ?” you grumble, clutching onto your bag as you resume your trek to your apartment. it’s already late, and you feel bad for not being there to tuck your brother away to sleep

“we can start getting to know each other right now,” mingi says, catching up to you quickly. he bumps shoulders with you, grinning. “i’ll start. i really like girls.”

“no shit,” you laugh.

mingi looks at you in surprise.

you’ve never really… laughed like this before. you usually laugh quietly but never this loudly to the point that your eyes are closed and your head is thrown back in amusement, your hands covering your mouth in… embarrassment, maybe? or is it out of habit? he’d like to know.

“you’re always flirting with the female customers.” your laughter subsides into giggles, and you playfully elbow his side.

mingi scoffs. “i do not!”

you stare at him.

“...well, maybe you’re right—”

“nope,” you cut him off. “i am right.”

“well, what about you?” mingi quickly says. “what do you like?”

you hum in thought. “well, i like school.”

“really?” he laughs. “you like school?”

you shrug as you both pass the pharmacy, and you make a mental note that you have to pick up kou’s medicine tomorrow morning. “yeah,” you reply. “i like school. gives me something to do and look forward to…”

mingi frowns at the tone in your voice. something to do and look forward to, she says…

it’s then that you stop. mingi blinks a couple times and looks up, coming face to face with a run-down apartment complex. he looks between you and the building, surprised.

she… lives here?

“well,” you look at him, smiling. “thank you for walking me all the way here, mingi. you really didn’t have to, but i appreciate it nonetheless.”

“oh,” he says, “it’s no big deal… listen, is it alright if i head in with you?”

you cock an eyebrow at this. “why?”

“just to make sure no weirdo tries following you back to your place.”

again, you laugh. “no one’s going to follow me, mingi.”

“but—”

you walk towards the entrance and push the doors open, saying, “goodnight, mingi,” before the doors close and you disappear up the stairs, leaving mingi staring after you.

“ah shit,” you groan, pinching your nose. you forgot to text jongho. well, you shrug, it’s not like i’ll get in trouble. jjongs is just a friend.

the walk to your faded apartment door with the very ugly numbers of ‘117’ plastered on right beneath the peephole stare right back at you. as you rummage through your bag to find your keys, the door suddenly swings open and a boy that reaches your shoulders grins widely at you.

“sis!”

“kou,” you say, baffled. “why are you still awake?” jongho leans over the kitchen counter from behind kou. “what’s he doing up, jjongs?”

kou pouts, opening the door wider as you slip inside, kicking your shoes off and turning around, waiting for your brother’s answer. the boy looks up at you. “i wanted us to read together before i went to sleep… i’m sorry—”

“mhm,” jongho hums out in agreement, turning his back towards you two. “what he said. kou is quite the convincer, you know?” the sound of water running fills the air, and you can only assume that he’s washing dishes.

you sigh, leaning down slightly to ruffle his hair. kou perks up, smiling as he tries leaning into your touch. “there’s nothing to be sorry about, kou.” you stand up, holding out your hand. kou grabs it, and you lead him over to his room. “did you brush your teeth already?”

he nods. “yes. um, sis?”

you hum as you flick the light switch on in kou’s room, ushering him over to his bed. he goes under the covers, and you tuck the duvet right under his nose, pinching it afterwards. kou giggles, “sis, stop!”

“okay, okay.” with one last pinch, you sit back comfortably at the edge of his bed. “what was it that you wanted to ask?”

“oh. um…” kou’s cheeks flush as he looks away. “can you um, put the butterfly clips in my hair again for when i go to school tomorrow? i really like how it looks in my hair.”

“of course!” you coo, kissing both his cheeks. “anything for my little brother.”

“thank you, sis,” he giggles. “can you read to me now?”

“of course—”

kou begins to cough uncontrollably. you’re quick to get on your feet, leaving temporarily and coming back with a cup of water and two pills in your hand. you pat his back as kou carefully takes the glass and pills into his hand, popping them into his mouth before washing them down with the water. once he calms down, he awkwardly lays back down in his bed, screwing his eyes shut.

you know he doesn’t want to talk about it.

so you grab the book you two have been reading together for the past month, finding the page you two last left on and begin reading out loud to him. a couple minutes pass before kou tells you that he’s feeling sleepy. you place the bookmark on the page you just read and place the book back on the nightstand.

“goodnight, kou,” you whisper, giving his forehead a quick kiss, ready to head out when you notice that the window in his room is open. you head over to it, leaning out for a second to feel the night air. a shiver goes down your spine, goosebumps appearing on your arms and the back of your neck. you immediately lean back inside the room, shutting the window and locking it.

it felt like you were being watched… but who the hell would want to watch you?

you're nobody.

you scrunch your nose, deciding to ignore whatever just happened and opting to go freshen up before heading to sleep.

you’ll just have to worry about it if it ever becomes a problem, but for now it isn’t.

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BLOODY HELL | yuyusuyu 2024

[aniimoni]

Thank u for the refs when u responded to me anways

Can you tell me a little bit about ur AU?

(narilamb relationship/ about the world of ur AU etc?)

This has been sitting in my inbox for a year now (approximately when I first updated my htk character references,,,) , and I was waiting to hopefully answer it with some more drawings, but I haven't been in a "lamb art" mood too much lately. HOWEVER! I have absolutely been in a "lamb writing" mood lately. Also, I've been dying to talk about this, it helps me think.

Anyway, I'm going to try to share the basics, since it has been a while.

On the topic of the Lamb and Narinder: Their story starts off as it does in the game. You've got the lamb going on quests to free TOWW, making discoveries, forming relationships, growing their cult as they go, etc. etc. But, the main thing that diverges is the fact that as the Lamb is going on these quests, they also play the role of TOWW's storyteller. Meaning, with each adventure, they make sure to come back to TOWW with a story to tell. This engages him in a way he's never really felt before. At first, he finds it incredibly annoying, because he's never asked them to do this for him. He was expecting something more "professional", but clearly, that's not where they're headed. To spare you from reading me repeating myself, I'm linking a lore post I made ages ago. Hopefully it makes sense, because I wrote it at approximately one AM,, and it was one year ago.

Also some extra background information (that is still subject to change) can be found:

AU master post

Pre-battle Lamb's persona (slight mention of their disciples)

More vague breakdown of Lamb's persona

Pre-battle Lamb's relationship with the cult (out of date description of their relationship with their disciples, because I'm cool like that)

Hopefully this helps!

What each post doesn't really touch is what you asked about: their relationship. I know I talk about the premise of their conflict, but not about what's affecting them as the story goes on. I've been thinking about this for a while, and I've got what's considered a rough idea. So, let me explain as best as I can.

Some background info before we start! The lamb has 3 disciples: Mordias, Saimon, and Alego. This will help us later, trust.

Their main conflict touches 3 bases:

their battle

the disciples

passing the torch (aka transition of authority and motive)

I guess before I talk about these, I should mention something important: I wouldn't consider their relationship romantic on both ends, but there's absolutely enough loser-yearning from them to last us a whole winter.

Their battle

As I described in the post I linked, the battle left both of them feeling really disoriented.

Narinder has processed the fact that he has been "betrayed", but this conflicts with the feelings he developed during his imprisonment. This ends up in him pleading his case, therefore earning what he calls "a second chance". He spends his early days locked inside a hut, throwing tantrums and whatnot, but also slowly coming to terms with his feelings. Eventually, it dawns on him that this is what he has yearned for all the many months since the Lamb began to tell their stories, and fill his mind with new dreams.

Before anything else: what is ultimately driving the Lamb, is their desperation to live. This is what eventually drives them away from the relationship they formed with TOWW, and is kept hidden from him in his late days of imprisonment.

I didn't mention it in the post I linked because its a concept I came up with later on, but Lamb comes to the conclusion that there will be a price to pay to free TOWW on their own. TOWW still breaks the news to them, but at this point they have made up their mind about what they want from this experience. Too late, oops.

After the battle, they're given the opportunity to kill him. They would have chosen to, if it weren't for the rush of emotions they were feeling in the moment. After this phase passes, they decide that its too late to take their word back, especially when they have a whole cult looking at their every move and decision. Even then, they are very much aware of the rush of emotions that rise whenever they speak to him.

2. The disciples

I'm just going to give summaries, if you will. They each have their own stories, but this is only discussing how they impact our focus right now.

Mordias is considered a pillar of the cult. She has been there to build its foundation; its laws, its buildings, till its farms, welcome their very first members, etc. She met the Lamb shortly after her father was murdered for being in a rebellion, and was immediately drawn to the Lamb. [Okay I genuinely had to cut down this part so much because I realize halfway this ISN'T a Mordias centered post, and I will get to rant about her in another ask that's been sitting in my inbox collecting dust and mites probably] All you need to know is that she doesn't fw with Narinder and is always up to challenging him in anything. He doesn't get to breathe when she's around, he's not allowed. Iconic Lesbian vs. weird old demon (its more complicated but we're trying to get the point across here)(also this is NOT a Mordias centered post :SOB:) Also she isn't dealing with the "break" very well. Which I would elaborate on IF THIS WAS A MORDIAS CENTERED POST

Saimon is the last one you'd expect to end up alongside Narinder, being a mouse and all. They're actually genuine when they encourage Narinder to be more active in their community, which quickly begins to tick the Lamb off. This came as a surprise to everyone because they were the epitome of loyalty. Sometimes they'd get into small disagreements, which then grew into moral disagreements, which also ended up in the Lamb distancing themselves from them (HOWEVER, I wouldn't say it was super personal winkwink).

Alego was the last disciple to join, and the first to dissent. He never necessarily agreed with anything, but the Lamb chose to bring them in because Mordias thought he brought in an interesting perspective, which the Lamb agreed they appreciated at the time. For a while, he was genuinely helpful for the reasons Mordias said he would be. Alego became well liked and appreciated. But, his way of thinking posed a problem when the topic of Narinder came up, and he would always find something to argue for; never quite sticking to a "team". This wouldn't have been a problem if he hadn't begun meddling in Narinder's new life, and often seeking out to rile the Lamb up and start an argument. (His story is also very much subject to change, because I feel like I can't quite get a handle on his character)

3. Passing the torch (aka transition of authority and motive)

Since Narinder obviously no longer holds his status as a god, he loses the control he used to have. He is given the option to leave, but doesn't out of his claimed "morality". This is another part of the conflict he refuses to leave his room for, for the first couple of days. He was raised with the ideal that gods are above anything else, and must be surrounded by unwavering loyalty---wouldn't it be another breach of ideals if he chose to do anything else? If you noticed that this way of thinking contradicts his actions and previous thoughts,, good job, because he is the biggest fucking hypocrite in the world. Inherently, its Mordias who is extremely pissed, because she knows (among other reasons).

He spends the rest of his time trying to (by his definition) make amends. After the Lamb spends several weeks forcing him to participate in events or activities to humiliate him, until he begins to actively make an effort to learn about nearly everything. It was the Lamb, after all, that inspired his curiosity and change of heart. Unfortunately, its this change of heart that disconnects him from the reality in front of him.

With everyone being so caught up on the impending battle, it was easy to miss unusual behavior coming from the Lamb. The changes were slow, but eventually became too hard to miss, especially to those closest to them. The battle came, Narinder was spared, and suddenly everything was just a bit too different. With Narinder in front of them, flesh and bone, the reality of their actions came crashing down on them very quickly. They have the opportunity to control their lives in a way none of their ancestors had; it would be an absolute waste to not make the most of it.

Pretty soon, they stopped seeking time with their disciples.

Narinder still sought them out, hoping for even a moment of their time. In all truth, he felt lost without them. He was looking for a piece to complete him, to make him feel within reason again. But how can you seek to feel whole with someone who never needed another piece in the first place?

Anywarysyss, hope you guys can decipher this, its 1 AM now and I've got tons on my plate tomorrow (fun things though!!) This AU has clearly undergone a bit of rework, but hopefully you can still see Narinder as I intended

uhmmm leave questions if u want, always appreciate it even if i let them collect dust and flies, but i think of them 🫶🏼

I'm working on my writing i sweaarrrrr I swearrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[desertfangs]

Dying at the mental image of Daniel knocking on Armand’s bedroom door at Trinity Gate for the fourth night in a row like “WELP 😵‍💫 I have somehow ended up here again 😜😇 boss look I have nowhere else to go 😟 the cellars are dusty and smelly and full of moody immortals 🥺 whats’a a poor horny fledging to do? 😔🍆” and Armand is nodding along very seriously to everything he says because he’s 100% into this being some kind of roleplay for them and it’s fun and it’s been a while since they did this so he lets Daniel in and has his way with him. The following night they wake up like a pair of kittens who fell asleep while they were play fighting, with their fangs still in each other’s throats/body parts. Eventually they come to an unspoken agreement (I mean it’s been weeks!) and Daniel just starts letting himself in and lays in bed with Armand while caressing his hair until they both fall asleep. They think they’re being discreet but absolutely everyone at TG knows they’re fucking again and are definitely gossiping about it xoxo DA

DA!!! This is delightful and I love everything about it. I love the idea of it starting as a bit of a Daniel going "Hey, maybe if I just say good night, he'll let me stay," so he knocks and maybe thanks him for the guest room and compliments Armand's room, and wow, is that a fireplace! Do you use that thing? Bet it's great in the winter! And then oops, he's over the threshold and complimenting the rest of the room and wow, it's gotten so late and--yawn--I guess I could head to my room but that's kind of a long way.

The idea of them making it a game is so perfect and absolutely something they'd do! Just pretending Daniel is only intending to say good night and head off but it never quite happens and he just ends up in Armand's bed every night, and Armand pretends he's exasperated that Daniel can't seem to get to his own room or the cellars or wherever he was set up to stay but really is relieved to have him there.

And yes to them waking up like kittens, curled around each other, limbs tangled together (love the fangs still in throats, oof! That's hot! 🥵🥵) Armand pretending that he accidentally fell back to sleep after sunset woke him up and oops, guess I'm still here in bed with you! Funny how that keeps happening. At some point, Armand will give him a key to his bedroom "just in case." And that's basically when the game stops and Daniel is just sliding into Armand's bed--whether Armand is there yet or not--every single night. And of course Armand caressing him while he falls asleep is perfect. (I headcanon--and I think a lot of us do--that Daniel has a sort of mortal grogginess that makes him fun to snuggle and caress when he's sleepy!)

And LOL of course everyone knows! Lestat pegged it the first time Armand came into the room looking just slightly less tense. Louis was dubious but agreed two nights later when he saw Daniel sitting in the garden watching Armand talking to someone else across the room and looking a little flushed. No one is surprised, and everyone wonders why it matters at all, but they're far too polite to say anything. Except Lestat, who will razz Daniel at the first opportunity, messing up his hair and saying, "It's about time!"

DA I love this so much! Always a pleasure to find your messages in my inbox! I hope you're having a great week!

[aqua-dan]

I’m sorry for like constantly filling up your inbox with question but I’ve figured out what Roy and Garth’s little misunderstandings were so you don’t have to answer that ask.

I also would like to admit that I think that I’m kind of a Roy.

Bare with me…

I often trash on my friends at any given opportunity. Any opening for a snide remark, any mean comment I could possibly think of in two seconds. If it’s clever and witty then I’ll squeeze it in and for any other person what I’m doing is seen as mean and for a while… they also considered me as rude.

I never really realized that I was actually overstepping someone’s boundaries. This is more geared to one specific person and I felt like really bad about it… because… the whole reason I was being like that in the first place is because I like them and I want to be close to them…

Like I considered them different from everyone else - I felt like I related to them and I felt like they could understand me - like they could understand the worst parts of me and if they over time got conditioned to being around me even when I’m like that then they could be the type of person who I can show all my ugly to as well.

It’s like weird - I don’t know how to describe it. In my head I seriously think that what I’m doing is like extremely and so obviously affectionate and caring. It’s like me insulting them is actually the most hilarious thing in the world because me thinking low of them would be the biggest joke to end all jokes… because I don’t think low of them - I really like them and I thought that was obvious.

I guess it’s easier to show that in a special little game made for them then it is to do it in a normal way because if I do that I’ll be showing my ass because if I was affectionate in a normal way and they didn’t like me then it’d kind of crush me and if I do it this way and they still like me than perhaps it’s mutual.

God, to think when they communicated to me that they didn’t think we were close enough for that then I felt like a damn idiot because I felt closer to them than literally anyone else. :(

It’s very twisted but my POINT is that lowkey Roy probably really likes Garth if my situation at all resembles that.

Ah, classic preschool bs, if he’s mean to you for no reason than it means he likes you but it is very true.

I think that people don’t understand RoyGarth because they refuse to see the implications. It’s not a bad or confusing ship at all. It’s misunderstandings and if they truly hated each other’s guts its not like that will ever effectively take away from the quality of the ship.

What Roy does for Garth is almost inherently affectionate and almost romantic seen through the right lenses.

Sorry for the tangent. This isn’t me venting AT ALL by the way - I’m just trying to connect Roy’s behavior to something and I know myself better than anyone so!

Hey! No worries, anon! I actually LOVE getting asks, and I'm always super appreciative for every one I get! I'm sorry also that I'm so slow to answer them. I get so nervous answering things sometimes because I don't want to say the wrong thing. I've been known to go and re-read whole series just in case so I can give the best response I can. But that does mean that sometimes asks sit around for a bit... oops. This ain't about me though, so!

Thank you genuinely for sending this! I think it's a really interesting take on this whole thing from someone who has clearly analyzed their own actions/feelings, and gives us a perspective that we may not otherwise see.

I do think it's really intriguing, both in real life and in fiction, how differently two people can view something and how actions can be interpreted/misinterpreted.

Again, thank you for being willing to share this! (And as a side note, I still am planning on answering your other ask anyway, but maybe as a comprehensive look at Roy and Garth's interactions)

[apprenticestanheight]

Kind of similar to that last platonic request but could you do something where apprentice reader comes out as transmasc to the other apprentices? Thank you!

Coming out to the various apprentices hcs

Hi!! This has been sitting in my inbox for more than a month, which I am SO SORRY ABOUT! Stuff has been all over the place and trying to find work in the past week or so has been a freaking NIGHTMARE so a lot is on my plate in the mental area right now but realistically that's not much of an excuse so again, I am so sorry it's taken me this long!

I'm not the greatest at writing coming out scenes (I can't think of one of my characters who, even if they've been in a straight presenting relationship, has not been queer in some way since I started writing, which makes that sentence ironic) but I did my best with the several I've written/explained here! As is evident by the title, I wrote this out as headcanons, which I hope is okay! Also didn't include logan (watched like, an hour of jigsaw?? maybe?? hated it. hated him. respectfully) which I hope is all right.

Fic type- this is very fluffy!

warnings- none other than the fact that this wasn’t edited before posting (oops)

ALLLLLLL RIGHT!!

You probably just like--I feel like coming out to them individually is the way to go because if you do it with all of them present it'll kind of be like--it'll--something will feel a little bit off because there's some animosity between Amanda and Mark and their reactions will have some variation. Plus, it's just easier anyway because, while you are with them individually a lot of the time, the four of you are together very, very rarely, and typically only when John asks you all to be somewhere at the same time.

So you come out to Amanda first and she takes it REALLY, REALLY WELL!!

The first thing that she does is offer you one of the guys sweaters she keeps in the back of her closet--they're baggy, warm and typically what she'll wear in winter because jersey gets cold during the season.

She also asks you what your preferred name and pronouns are and then takes to them like she's snapped her fingers and your birth name and previous pronouns have left her memory. She is really, really sweet about it and so understanding--as far as the apprentices go, I feel like she reacts the best and handles it the best because she IS queer and has queer friends so she gets it to an extent.

Lawrence and Amandas reactions are similar! He mentions he has a couple of shirts and sweaters and stuff that he doesn't really wear anymore and offers them to you while also asking if you want coffee or tea because you decided to come out while he was just at home (you're working in--idk,, pharmaceuticals?? and so you work close by anyway and Lawrence also wants your opinion on trap stuff so hey! Your meeting has two purposes!)

and then he asks you what your preferred name and pronouns are and takes to them pretty quickly! Once you've left with coffee in a to-go mug and several shirts, sweatpants, hoodies and cardigans and just--clothes that Lawrence doesn't wear anymore that either already fit or can be altered so that they do, Lawrence practices so that he makes sure not to fuck it up because he knows that you're having told him about how you identify is really important and a really special kind of thing and the idea of messing up by calling you the name you used to go by or using the pronouns that make you dysphoric makes him feel terrible right out the gate.

Hoffman has the attitude of someone who's like,, super chill about that kind of thing! again, queer himself (you cannot tell me that he and strahm were not fucking on the DL. I refuse to believe otherwise) and very understanding about how difficult coming out can be.

He asks you what your preferred name and pronouns are and takes to them fairly quickly! He messes up like, once?? twice maybe before he's like "I need to practice using the name and pronouns because fucking it up is not needed--dysphoria seems like it sucks and I don't want him to be dysphoric because of me." so then he practices it mentally while he's working and kind of like,, under his breath while he sets traps up and has it down within that week.

Also gets you a checkerboard cake that has three layers and has the trans flag colors because he feels bad about the times he messed your pronouns up. You absolutely devoured that cake after a really tough day and it was delicious (he got strahm to bake it because as much as I love him, I do not think he could bake a cake without burning it)

All in all, their reactions are different but they do love you and they make sure that you know that.

[theflyingfeeling]

heyyyy hellooooo!!!! 💖💕💘💕💖

lately I've been thinking of Allu playing the guitar on stream and sorry but I gotta say it, there a reason why he's a DJ/music producer/percussionist and not the guitarist of the band 😅💀

well, imagine that his good friend Olli hears him play idk the ice cream truck song and decides that Allu could use some guitar lessons, so he offers to teach him a thing or two (because Allu can be a better musician if he learns to play more instruments, yknow? not because they would get to hang out more and he'd get to see Allu's lovely face more often or something like that haha.........)

and Allu obviously accepts because of course he would like to broaden his skillset (and not because he would get to hear Olli explain nerdy stuff to him in that low voice of his and maybe have him quite close because he will need help with the positioning of his hands on the fretboard of the guitar of course haha.........)

so they start the lessons through some silly videocalls where Olli explains and plays some stuff for Allu to repeat, until Olli has to go to Helsinki for... band stuff... so he stays at Allu's place and they get to use the studio for their lessons and mayyyybe they are sitting in opposite sides of the couch and somehow they start getting closer and closer until oops, Allu is almost sitting in Olli's lap 😳 (not that any of them minds, but maybe it's better to stay a bit apart, for a while?)

it happens a few more times until one day, where Allu lights up his famous Studio Candle (maybe as a joke, maybe because he wants the experience to be more intimate, but he tells Olli that it's good for concentration), there's a bottle of red wine half empty near them, and they're sitting so close to each other that Allu can feel Olli's heavy breathing next to his ear 🥰 so he turns around to face Olli, but seeing those beautiful blue eyes this close leaves him speechless (and the exact same thing is happening to Olli), and suddenly they're kissing, not knowing who made the first move but enjoying it anyway🥰

and well, maybe Allu won't learn a thing about playing the guitar but really, who needs that when he can devout himself to learn all the beautiful noises that he can pull from Olli 😇💘💕💖💕

Hiiiiiiii oh my god!!!! 😭😭😭😭 jesus christ and virgin mary this is just too cute I need a moment to collect myself from the kitchen floor aaaaaaaa 🤧

Little idiots in love making up silly excuses to spend more time together, fuck yeah that's my new favourite trope 😭🤲💗💕💖💞 just imagine the butterflies in Olli’s stomach when he suggests it, thinking Allu will laugh it off and think it's stupid, but of course Allu also sees the opportunity to hang out and to get to hear Olli's calming voice talking sweet nerdy stuff 🥺

And what you described would happen at the "physical" guitar lessons is practically exactly what I spent most of last week imagining: them spending day after day together and growing closer (also in physical intimacy) until one day they just kiss and it feel so natural like it was always meant to happen 😭💗

And ooohhhhfffff pulling beautiful noises from Olli you say? I'm very interested in those hhmmmmhhmmhmmm 👀🥵

Thank you so much for brightening up my Tuesday with this!! 🥰💕 I almost wanted to just keep this in my inbox so I could read it over and over again, but I didn't want to be greedy, so here it is for everyone else to enjoy and dream about 💖💗💖💞💕💗💖💕💞💖💕💗💖💞

[monstersinthecosmos]

could you go into more detail re: how you changed the post-bom smut in chapter 9 of TTSR? i looove the whump+smut combo but i totally get what you meant by thinking it wouldn't be realistic for keith to even recover from what you initially had in mind, esp. given it's a multi-chaptered fic and listen we have places to get to we have burns to slow and daddies to kink and whatnot. but still i am kinda foaming at the mouth to know what the original plan was LOL, if you're up to talking about it ofc. btw it's sheith VC anon and i've just started reading IWTV! lestat cracks me the fuck up but i feel like louis would sound just as ridiculous from someone else's pov, arguably more so. girl you are out there standing still in the middle of the pouring rain for hours. love the moments when it stops being an interview and becomes a psychoanalysis session instead, hey it's free therapy. if he's even aware of such a strange and novel concept yet. also the AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE COFFIN bit made me lose it

WHAT A DELIGHTFUL ASK IN MY INBOX FIRST THING IN THE MORNING HAHA. LOUIS PLZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 i s2g lol baffled-idiot-at-the-zoo-core

Gosh so like, when I write outlines, I kinda

list the points out

in the bottom of the document

that i can always peek down and just see the next part im trying to make it to

AND THEN I ERASE THE LINES AS I GO HAHA. So there's no real record of my original outlines oops. So tbh I don't remember allllll the details but I do have a couple clues from DMs with my TTSR cheerleader:

Basically, like, in the first aid/aftercare area of the chapter I was gonna have Keith in like COMPLETE hysterics hahahaha but I'm kind of a slow writer so idk the trials part of the chapter took WEEKS to write so like. It's hard for me sometimes because in my mind I feel like "I've been staring at this scene for weeks and it's getting boring" without remembering that it would take like, idk 10 minutes to read? I get very worried that my fics are long and boring LOL. But like working on the trial for weeks where it was like so dismal and violent and dark, I think it MAKES SENSE that someone would be in hysterics, but I also felt like.!!!!!!!!!!

I wanted the sex at the end of the chapter to be like quiet and intimate but for Keith to be really shut down and uncomfortable afterwards, and I wanted him to pull away and have walls up. Like to be in hysterics, then to have sex, then to calm down and be really embarrassed that he was in hysterics in the first place, and get freaked out that they're being too intimate.

But it feels like at a certain point I'm not trying to like slow burn or drag the story out FOR THE SAKE OF DRAGGING IT OUT, I don't want to include those things if they feel gratuitous. Does that make sense? Because I've read some bad slow burns where I felt like the author was being purposefully verbose to inflate the word count so that you FEEL SLOW BURNED by the slog of words but not necessarily by what's happening in the story? To me, slow burning is about what the characters are DOING and what's happening and how everyone feels, not strictly about making people sit through 100k of build up. You can slow burn someone in 3k if you're purposeful! So like without my original notes anymore what I do remember is

Keith was going to be in COMPLETE hysterics. The notes probably were like "Keith comes out of the trial puking and has a huge meltdown" and when you write notes it feels kinds harmless but then when you write like idk 15k about the trials suddenly it's like "a huge meltdown" feels like Too Much.

Shiro drugging him wasn't in the original outline; this was my excuse to get him calm and loopy instead of having a metldown.

I felt like Keith emotionally shutting down during sex at the end was going to be TOO MUCH so I let Shiro take care of him a little more. A compromise was that I added that he COULDNT COME LOL I just thought it would like still give me an excuse to have him be frustrated/burnt out/whumpy but without pushing it so hard. (Of course Shiro figures out a way to get him off anyway because I didn't want to like edge the reader on that either, that also felt a little cruel LOL)

I don't recall if I planned whose bedroom they'd be in but I let Shiro fell asleep at least before Keith leaves. FALLING ASLEEP IN KEITHS BED LOL FEELS SERIOUS.

I also think I wrote something about how he wasn't going to want to see Shiro's face or be on top in the second scene because in the opening scene he's on top for the first time and he's really nervous and uncomfortable and doesn't like it. So like instead of the BOM trial bringing them CLOSER I thought it was going to like push them further from each other because he was too traumatized LOL.

BUT IDK IN THE MOMENT ONCE I ACTUALLY SAW HOW THE TRIALS WENT I JUST FELT LIKE IT WAS TOO MEAN LOL. AND I DECIDED IF HE'S VERY HIGH AND EXHAUSTED HE CAN AT LEAST PARTICIPATE AND I DONT HAVE TO HURT SHIRO'S FEELINGS LOL. AND HE CAN STILL FEEL VERY EMBARRASSED AFTERWARDS WHICH IS THE NEXT CHAPTER THAT I'M WORKING ON NOW.

ajsdkglasdg

[castlebyersafterdark]

My biggest thing has always been - and not just leaks but fandom theories and concepts they cannot shake - is the whole uhhhh Vecna repetition?? Why would he be doing all that again? Th gates are open, his dramatic moment is over, "getting Vecna'd" I feel is a thing of the past and he'll have brand new ways to torment and cause mayhem. So that was an immediate no for me.

lmaooo 😭 i genuinely love how you answered my ask from like weeks ago (i lowkey didn’t even remember sending that uhh) but it’s so weird how people are a bit caught up in the idea of different characters getting “vecna’d” i specifically see it directed towards mike , it’s genuinely not gonna happen to will simply consider how much vecna is fixated on what will can do for him (get your mind out of the gutter guys please 🖐🏽😔) and on a side note if henry (and the duffers) wanted him dead he would’ve already killed let’s be real 😗

I'm so behind with asks and I really try to answer things if I can! I just don't have the energy sometimes and it gets easy to just pop off a few from the top of my inbox haha but you never know when I'm gonna respond!! I still have asks sitting from back in June that will show up eventually 🙃 😅

Haha oops my mind is deep in the gutter but that's OK 😘 a little something for everyone!! But... again again again - it's just not great storytelling to repeat the same things again. They're gonna want to do new freaky and scary things with the villain - it's horror. How can they horrify and captivate us with things we already expect? It's gotta stay fresh. Keep that in mind!!

[harcove]

hiiiii! <33 i dont know if you are taking any requests but can you write a leon x reader in which the reader gets bitten? (i love drama lmaoo)

love uuuuuu<3333

Okay so I do have like a bunch of other stuff to finish in my inbox, but I tend to not do things in order of when I get them, I do them in the order of whatever I get done first (since I start them all whenever I get them and work on them over time) and whatever I'm getting the most inspiration for at the moment, and this baby right here: chefs kiss right now. I LOVE angst so much, it is my favourite thing to write.

Also I'm always open for requests! It's just a matter of when they get done, since like I said above, and also my final year of uni just started so oof. ALSO: Decided to do RE2 Leon oop... I hope that's okay!

I LOVE YOU TOO! Here you go bb,

Warnings: angst, blood/gore, injury, character death

Length: 2.8k (I- oop.)

Request: in the ask!

RE2 Leon Kennedy x Reader - Not you.

Your hand squeezed your thigh with as much strength as you could muster. It wasn't that it was hurting too much yet, you were still running off the shock and adrenaline from the events moments before that the pain hadn't yet settled. Dark blood oozed between your shaking fingers and coated your hand like you had just decided to dip your hand into a bucket of red paint. It was hardly sanitary considering the situation you were in, dirty and sweaty, having been going through the sewers earlier.

The undead man who had done the deed lay a few feet away with your survival knife Leon had given you stuck in his temple. You could see your own blood and flesh on his face, in his mouth. It was unnerving, and you usually wouldn't have noticed such a detail, except that it was your skin. Your blood. Your body.

You inched yourself towards the corpse and used the tip of your foot to make sure it wasn't still going to get back up. When it did nothing after a few pushes, you deemed it safe enough to take your knife back. With a few hard tugs, it dislodged itself with a squelch and you fell back against the wall behind you, exhausted.

The sudden sharp pain that run up your leg into your spine and made you arch your back for a moment as you stopped breathing forced you to pay attention to the wound on your leg. Hesitantly, you moved your shaking fingers away from the bite on your leg to take a peak.

There wasn't really a point to looking at it, you realized moments after you laid eyes on it. It wasn't going to fix anything, and there was nothing for you to assess. A bite was a bite, and you knew what it meant. Leon and you had seen what happened to Marvin. You yourself had seen a friend turn after being bit before you had gone to the RPD. So you knew.

The skin near the bite was incredibly hot to the touch, and even without touching it, you could feel the heat coming off your skin. Your jeans sported a hole where the bite was and you wondered if there was anything in your bag to cover it with. It was ugly to look at, and scary.

You let out of deep sigh as you closed your eyes. There wasn't much you could do but sit there. Leon was somewhere inside the NEST, and you were at the entrance. You weren't sure if you wanted Leon to find you dead or alive, but all you knew was that this was not something you nor him could fix.

It felt like hours had passed when Leon had shown up. But in reality, it had only been about half of an hour. Whatever was in the bite, whatever the virus really was, had done a number on you as you felt sweat bead at your forehead and slowly trickle down the side of your face. The furrow in your brow from the pain almost felt like it was permanent.

"Y/N!" He called out when he spotted you. He looked worse for wear, that was for sure. The way his shirt had been ripped on the sleeves, and the bandage you could see just beneath his shirt and RPD vest. He was caked in blood, sweat, and dirt too.

And yet he was a welcome sight for your tired eyes.

He quickly slid onto his knees and if you weren't in so much pain yourself, you would've winced at how harshly he landed on the hard floor, but it didn't seem like he was affected by it.

"I'm so glad I found you," he said breathily; he reminded you of a little puppy, and it made you want to squeeze him close to you, "what happened, what-"

Your hand squeezed your leg unconsciously and he looked down when you did so, his beautiful blue eyes resting on your bloodied hand and whatever you were covering up. His eyes looked back up to you almost hesitantly, asking to look. When a half-smile was your only response, he looked back down and focused on your leg.

His hands gently pried your fingers off your leg and he carefully let your hand go on your lap, giving them a squeeze.

"I'm..." he seemed at a loss for words, you would've been too, "I have to... Cut this away to see it better, okay? It's..."

Carefully he used his own survival knife to cut away at the pieces of your jeans, which were dyed deep red around the wound, so he could see it better. Your hand came up to his shoulder as he did so, peeling the bloody fabric away from it as much as he could without hurting you, and you squeezed his shoulder so tightly, fighting the urge to scream in pain. But he didn't seem to notice, or care, about the harsh grip you had on his shoulder.

"Oh. God..." it was said softly, almost as if he had no air left inside him to breathe, let alone speak.

"It's really ugly, I know," you tried to make the situation less dire, but it didn't seem to work, because Leon just looked at you with his big eyes, full of so many negative emotions.

"It's not..." even Leon didn't know what he was doing to say as he trailed off. He began searching through his pockets till he came up with a bottle of antiseptic that looked half empty.

"It's gonna be okay," he finally spoke again as he started to open the bottle, but your hand reached up and seized his own holding the open bottle above your leg.

"Don't use that," you pushed it closer to him and further from your leg, "you can't afford to waste that."

"I'm not wasting it."

You hadn't heard him sound so sure of his words, so... Angry. You hadn't known the boy long, but that was the first time you'd seen him react that way to anything. It made your push your lips together in a thin line, but you kept your hand on him, stopping him from using the antiseptic.

"I'm pretty sure we both know how this ends," you prompted slowly, "I don't think an antiseptic is going to fix it."

"The vaccine is here somewhere, it has to be," he stated firmly, "we just need to find it. It's going to be okay."

It wasn't that you didn't trust him, or that you didn't believe him. But how long was it going to take to find a vaccine? And how did you truly know you were going to find one? You didn't even know if it would work.

You didn't have much say when Leon moved to put your arm over his shoulder, and looked at you, counting to three before he helped you off the ground.

It worked initially: you had managed to stand up with the help of the rookie cop beside you, who kicked the zombie that had done the deed further from you two when you had gotten up. But it didn't last long, as pain shot through your leg and seemed to spread through your entire body. You could barely keep yourself upright even with his help, your body felt too weak to even function.

"Leon, I can't," you cried, falling back against the wall, "I can't."

"Damnit," Leon cursed under his breath, looking around him urgently before he left you against the wall to open a door across from the two of you.

He was missing for less than a minute when he came back out from the room and quickly came back to you. One of his arms reached under your legs while the other went to your back.

"I'm going to pick you up, okay?"

Ever the gentleman, even when you were definitely dying.

"My hero," you smiled softly but it came out as more of a grimace as he lifted you up like you weighed nothing.

You supposed training to be a police officer meant he wouldn't have trouble carrying fully grown human beings.

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp. There was a bed right across from the door, and a desk close to the door. Someone must've used this room as not just a study but a place to sleep. Like a bedroom.

Leon gently placed you on the bed in the room, being careful on how he placed you, and never taking his focus away from your leg.

"Okay," he breathed out pulling back, "I'm going to go find the vaccine. And then we're going to get out of here. Together."

It was a wonderful thought. It was the dream, right? For everything to be okay, for you to be fine, and for the two of you to get out of Raccoon city and away from this mess. Together.

And yet you knew it wasn't going to happen, you knew you weren't getting out of there. You knew you were dead. And it was a scary thought to have to face alone because you wanted so badly to live. To live with him.

He would've been out that door had you not reached your hand out and grabbed his hand as best you could, squeezing it as hard as you could.

"Don't," your voice cracked as you swallowed hard, the ache in your chest only growing when his pained expression met yours, "don't leave me. Leon..."

"But I need to..."

It was blatantly obvious to not only yourself but also to him that there wasn't anything he could do. Not anything he could do in time for you. He didn't even know what he'd be looking for exactly, but he'd go find it if he could. He'd do anything to help you. To save you, and keep you near, but there wasn't anything he could do. It was a cold hard truth, and one he so desperately wanted to avoid.

But he couldn't.

Not when he looked at you, and really looked. Not just second glances over your form and your leg that lasted seconds as his blue eyes frantically moved like they were trying to find something they couldn't. No, when he really stopped and stared at you, he couldn't avoid it.

Your skin was ashen and you were covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your eyes somehow looked like they had sunken in a bit, and looked dull compared to what they usually looked like. The way you breathed was alarming, it was shallow and sounded tiring, and then some moments it would speed up only to slow down moments later. You were in pain, and you were hardly there anymore.

"Y/N..." Leon's voice cracked, and you never thought you were going to see him cry. He held your hand back tightly and noted your fingertips felt cooler, "This isn't happening. Not to you."

"I should've paid more attention..." you said softly, "I don't... I don't want to die."

"I should've been here, I should've..." he exhaled through his nose, "damnit!"

"I'm not letting you blame yourself," you sternly interrupted him and squeezed his hand as best as you could, "not now. Not ever. None of this is your fault..."

Leon said nothing as he took to the ground beside the bed, kneeling right beside you. His face was close to your own as he leaned forward, his hand still holding your own tightly, which he brought up to your chest where your intertwined hands sat.

"Just..." you knew what you wanted to say but you didn't want to make the hurt worse, "just... promise you won't forget about me? And promise... Promise you're going to get out of here. Alive."

"I could never forget you," he said hurriedly as if he was offended you would have even thought he could forget you, "even if I wanted to, I could never..."

There was something there, between the two of you, that was trying to lay itself bare, but something was stopping it. There was something unsaid, simple words that were hard to say and had so much meaning, so much weight. But neither of you could say it.

If you did, not only would it be the first time, but also, the last time.

With your remaining strength you slipped a ring off your finger; it was an old thing, something that you had for a while and you didn't even remember why you got it or where you got it, but you always wore it just because. It had no sentimental meaning, but now it did as you pushed it into his hands. The look of confusion on his pained face made you smile slightly.

"So you always have a piece of me," you said, "and if you ever try to pawn that off I will come back and find you, Kennedy..."

His eyes trained themselves of the silver ring in his hands, it was so plain, just a band. But it was yours. It was you. It was all he could keep of you, he realized because this wasn't going to end with your life. Pocketing the ring, he took your hand again.

"I might just sell it then if you show up," he tried to make you smile, which it worked, but he also felt the need to reassure you, "I won't get rid of it. Ever."

"Good to know," you let go of his hand again and pulled out the gun in the holster that he had found for you in the station, inside was a round of ammo that you wouldn't need. Pulling out the ammo, save for one of the bullets, you gave him the rounds.

"What? What are you-"

"I'm not... Going to need this," you said, slightly out of breath from the pain you were in, "and I know they fit Matilda. But I'm keeping the gun, and one of the bullets."

It seemed to dawn on him what you meant by your final sentence and he frantically began to protest.

"Hey, wait, no," he shook his head, "no. I can... You don't have to... Let me."

It was the idea that you would have to shoot yourself that made him uncomfortable. The idea that you would need to take your own life upset him. But if you didn't want to turn into one of them, he would do it for you. He would... He...

"We both know you can't," you justified, "and I don't want you to. I could never ask you to. So, you go. You leave Leon, and you find that virus. You get out of here, and you live. You don't do anything stupid or reckless, and you make these bastards pay."

You were adamant, and you left absolutely no room for argument. Even if he wanted to argue, he couldn't. And he wanted to argue. But denial would get him killed, and you wanted him to live. And some part of him wanted to live for you.

"Alright," his voice didn't waver this time as he spoke, "Alright."

He placed his head against yours for a moment when he stood up and squeezed your hand a little tighter in his own when he grabbed it again. Softly, you placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth and ushered him to leave. It felt like he was walking on hot coals the whole time as he walked out the door, he regretted it when he looked back at you at the door, like he was waiting for you to get up and go with him. It just made closing the door behind him a lot harder.

He hadn't really been keeping watch of the time since he arrived in the RPD. He didn't really realize how fast or how slow time was going. But at that moment, outside that door, he really felt the way time flowed. It was impossibly slow, agonizingly so, and it was deadly quiet. Something that happened in only moments felt like it had taken an eternity.

He was used to the sound of a gun by now. It didn't make him flinch anymore. But this time it did. It made his stomach clench and his jaw tighten, his body stiffens. He hated how it sounded more than he ever had before.

The piece of metal in his pocket weighed heavy as he ghosted his hand over it.

Leon was going to find who did this. He was going to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. But most of all, he was going to make them pay.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

[tuiyla]

that infamous ryan murphy quote about how quinn was supposed to be this unsympathetic mean girl character to me and dianna “ruined” that is crazy to me because the poor girl finds out that she’s pregnant as early as season 1 episode 4 😭 and proceeds to get knocked down by life nearly every single episode after for the remainder of the first season. dianna did play a large part in making quinn so likable and sympathetic (in the following seasons especially but even just in season 1 also) but even just her character on paper kind of makes your heart ache for her. she’s only 15/16 years old, gets pregnant under some dubious circumstances, loses so much in the process, is kicked out of her own home and disowned by her father, bounces from place to place to live until actual angel mercedes steps in, struggles with the hardships of teen pregnancy and the decision of what she wants to do while literally being 15/16 years old. and of course she makes her fair share of mistakes along the way, she’s by no means perfect. she’s a bully when we first meet her and she lies to finn about him being the father. but my god i don’t know how you couldn’t not feel bad for this child, dianna and her wonderful ability of making quinn likable to watch onscreen aside.

We're doing it we're answering asks, let's goooo

That said an ask about the infamous Ryan Murphy quote has been sitting in my inbox for about 4 months at this point oops haha, but we'll answer one at a time

Cause girl! That's what I've been saying! Like, regardless of what RM actually meant when he backhand complimented Dianna I truly believe that this bitch didn't consider how sympathetic Quinn was bound to be and he's so wrong for that. There's no way you can have a character go through as much as Quinn did, on a show like Glee that ostensibly champions the downtrodden and not have her be sympathetic. I truly believe that three male writers didn't think people would feel for Quinn as much as they did in that situation. Which is bonkers because was she cruel towards Finn? Sure, but even Beth's conception itself is so dubious like we've covered before. But even IF Quinn was just some cold-hearted calculating whore who wanted to hurt Puck and Finn and everyone around her, she's still a 16-year-old pregnant girl who gets disowned. Come on! How the fuck am I supposed to feel more for Finchel's "tragic" inter-social (i.e. high school) class relationship in the face of that. Fuck relationship drama, this girl is h o m e l e s s and pregnant.

I really feel like the message of Glee throughout Quinn's pregnancy storyline up until the point Quinncedes happens is that Quinn... had all the hardships coming. That she deserved to be knocked down a peg. Only it happened through her getting knocked up and it's super messed up that the show pretends she's anything but a victim. Who the hell cares that she's bitchy. Who the hell cares that popularity is important to her. Newsflash assholes, it's just as important to out supposed heroes. Lmao I get so mad about Quinn's treatment. And this is why I can't in good conscience get behind people who say s1 is Quinn's best and that the pregnancy storyline was done well. No it wasn't. It decentred her whenever possible and wasn't in the least bit sympathetic if not for like, a single scene in Ballad and from Home on. And, of course, if not for Dianna. RM should be grateful Dianna did her thing with Quinn cause framing your arguably most tragic character as if she had it coming just because she's a bully at 15 is not a good look. But that's a recurring thing for Glee, ain't it. The more I think about it the more I believe Quinn and Santana's treatment re: pregnancy and outing are similar.

Quinn is a walking talking, but mostly crying tragedy. It's frankly disturbing that for some time they cling to this idea of her being irredeemable when she's just a mean kid playing into the same system everyone else does, too. But she happens to be on top and schadenfreude is real, I guess. Except it really wasn't for me there was no part of me that felt any justice in what Quinn went through. And guess what? Neither did Rachel. And I don't think Rachel is meant to represent the audience's perspective when she shows Quinn kindness in season 1 but alas, she does. I don't trust no bitches who don't feel the same.

[defectivehero]

hi!! I love your work, could you do a snippet about a villain’s lover finding out their secret identity? i know it’s a cliche trope but i would love to see it from the villain’s point of view, see how guilty the feel for making their lover scared

lmao this has been sitting in my inbox for literal decades oops

Villain sighed, taking their shoes off at the door.  They ran a quick hand through their hair, wincing as pain shot up their arm.  Groaning, they limped over to the kitchen counter, leaning against it to stand.  Typically, Alex would be here waiting for them.  Where were they?

Villain found the answer to their question a couple minutes later, when Alex emerged from the hallway behind them.  They watched as Alex walked right by them, before stopping at the sink,

Villain reached their hands out, only for Alex to flinch.  Villain felt their heart drop to their stomach.  Alex was trembling.

“You alright?” Villain whispered, unsure of what to do.  They weren’t sure what had gotten Alex so riled up, but surely there was something they could do-

“You...” Alex started, pausing for a second.  “I saw the news” they said.  

Villain squinted at them.  What did that have to with anything?  “Okay..” they remarked, unsure of what to say.  

“I saw you on the news,”

Villain felt their heart drop to their stomach.  That fight with Hero yesterday had been publicized.  There was a split second where Villain’s mask had slipped.  They swallowed slowly,

“Alex, hey, baby” Villain took a hesitant step closer, trying to get closer.  Alex’s eyes widened and they backed up against the counter.  “Don’t be scared,” they whispered.

“Don’t be scared?” Alex hissed.  “You’re joking, right?  You’ve killed so many people, hell-”

“Come on, you know I would never hurt you,” Villain argued, reaching their hand out to Alex.  Alex stared at their hand, eyes shooting up and down between their hand and their face.  

“I don’t know that, actually,” Alex shook their head, hand shaking.  Villain looked down at their hand, and felt like they wanted to throw up.  Alex was holding a sharp object...

“Alex, baby, is that a knife?” Villain asked softly, taking a step closer.  Alex nodded quickly, eyes glancing around the room.  “You don’t need that,” they felt their throat start to burn.  Did Alex really feel so threatened that they needed a knife to feel safe?

“Y-Yes, I do,” Alex quivered, practically cowering in front of them.  Villain put their hand on top of Alex’s hand, which was gripping the knife.  They slowly guided the knife up to their own chest before letting go.  Alex’s hand wavered a bit, before returning to hover over their heart.

“If you want to kill me, then kill me,” Villain tried to muster up a reassuring smile.  They took a step closer, Alex’s knife just barely touching their chest.  “I deserve it, anyways,” they muttered dryly.  Alex’s eyes widened.  Villain watched as their gaze flicked from the knife to Villain, and back again.  

Villain startled as Alex dropped the knife with a clatter.  They dropped to the floor, collapsing into themselves.  Villain felt adrenaline coursing through them and crouched down next to them, hands on either side of Alex’s face.  Alex was looking up at them, eyes red and puffy from crying.  Their breath hitched as they opened their mouth to say something, and Villain rubbed their back reassuringly.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Villain heard Alex whisper.  They shook their head, pulling Alex close.  “I'm so sorry,” they repeated over and over.

“Don’t be, it’s alright,” they reassured them.  “It’s okay,” they whispered, rubbing Alex’s back gently.  Villain sat with them, waiting until they heard their partner’s breath slow down.

“Sorry I pointed a knife at you,” Alex grimaced, breaking the silence.

“Not the first time that has happened to me, unfortunately,” Villain remarked wryly.  Alex let out a watery laugh, and Villain pressed a kiss to their forehead.

[daydreamsandcaffeine]

I have more words for you: Just The Two Of Us

You'll know what it means...

oops, this has been sitting in my inbox for a bit 🙈

But since you mentioned it, here's a 6 Sentence Sunday of this WIP that has had no progress since the idea originally formulated.

“Bro, it’s you and me until the end of time. I fucking love you.” Finnick belts out as he grabs two pints of beer from the bartender and passes one to Peeta.

Peeta grins widely and clinks his pint against Finnick’s. “Cheers to that.”

Finnick takes a gulp of his beer and continues, “To think, we almost left paradise with girlfriends, but at the end of the day, you’re my world, bro.”

Basically inspired by this

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Also, we talked a mill years ago about an Inuyasha AU? You wanted to make G wear the necklace etc. Which OBVIOUSLY is a fantastic idea and I really which you would, please 🤣😘💗

Okay, so this isn’t exactly the necklace bit, but it’s the most Inuyasha crossover thing I could think of at the moment! Also I’m sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for so long! <3 Oops!

Geralt turns into a human one night a month, during the new moon.

wordcount: 1.7k

TW: emotional Geralt whump, angst with a happy ending, pining

---

“Stay in the room,” Geralt instructed, glaring Jaskier down from his place near the door. The bard nodded obediently and made a show of pulling his recently acquired book from his travel bag. 

“I might go down and perform for a bit, but I promise not to bring anyone back and I promise not to start any fights.”

“I’d rather you didn’t leave the room at all,” Geralt grumbled, “But I suppose the coin wouldn’t hurt.”

“Where are you going, anyway?”

“Next town over. Nightwraith.”

“Why can’t I come with you?” the bard pouted. His lower lip stuck out slightly and his eyes crinkled so cutely that it always made the Witcher question his ‘human’ parentage; there was a siren’s power in the way he turned up his nose and fluttered his pretty lashes. “Surely I could sit incredibly high up in a very sturdy tree and watch my glorious companion in all his… glory?”

“Excellent word choice,” Geralt rolled his eyes. He hefted his swords over his shoulder and shot the bard another meaningful look.  “I’ll see you in the morning. Stay. Safe.”

“Yes, Milord,” Jaskier sighed dramatically, flopping back against the pillows and opening his book. “Return to me in as few pieces as possible, dear heart.”

“Hmm.”

And with that, Geralt disappeared into the late afternoon light. 

---

There had been several distinctive changes to Geralt’s physical body after the second round of experimental Trials; his hair, of course, and his ghostly-pale skin were the most obvious. His greatest secret, however, and the strangest of all the Trials’ side effects, were the temporary changes he underwent on the nights of the new moon. His Witcher strength and senses abandoned him and his body returned to its pre-Trial state. He became, for all intents and purposes, a normal human man. 

He hated it. He hated himself. There was no power behind his punches on his human nights and while he remained graceful and competent with his swords, he lost his speed and dexterity. It left him feeling helpless and alone, and an onslaught of emotions (which he was usually able to suppress or ignore) flooded his mind, pulling tears from his eyes and putting a ruddy redness on his cheeks and ears that he found ugly. No doubt Jaskier would find him just as hideous. And useless…

If he couldn’t protect the bard, the handsome young human who smiled at him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be friends with a Witcher, then what good was he? Keeping Jaskier safe, keeping him alive and smiling like that, was what motivated Geralt to slump his way back to their room even when he wanted nothing more than to drop to the ground and pass out from exhaustion. Making sure Jaskier was okay (and, alright, getting his wounds fawned over and his hair washed wasn’t too bad either) was what kept him alive.

I can’t believe I forgot to keep track, Geralt berated himself as he set up his small campfire just inside the mouth of a cave. I almost revealed my secret to Jaskier. 

Geralt wasn’t sure which outcome he feared more: Jaskier seeing him in his less horrible state and rejecting him completely for keeping secrets/being a true monster, or Jaskier finding his human body attractive and being even more disgusted by his Witchery appearance. Geralt wouldn’t be able to stand either outcome, so he disappeared into the woods or back to the Path (if Jaskier was stuck in a town, teaching or performing) whenever the night of the new moon arrived.

He sighed and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his bent knees and setting his chin on one upright palm. He glanced up at Roach and grumbled out an excuse: “I just don’t want to lose him.”

Roach whinnied quietly, reproachfully, and Geralt nodded. 

“You’re absolutely right, I should tell Jaskier about all of this, but if I tell him now, after travelling together for so long, he’ll think I don’t trust him. And I do trust him! I trust him as much as I trust my brothers, maybe more considering their pranks… But I don’t want to scare him off, either. I’m such a fucking coward.”

As the last light of day slipped away beneath the horizon and darkness fell, Geralt felt his hair grow coarser and heavier atop his head. His eyesight dimmed and his knowledge of the landscape - every scent and sound - disappeared from his consciousness. The scars on his skin faded away into nothing as his pupils dilated into circles, the irises shifting from honey-gold to a deep, forest green. 

From a nearby bush, Geralt heard a familiar voice mutter, “Holy shit.”

He leapt to his feet and backed against the cave wall, throwing his arm across his face to hide it. “Dammit, Jaskier, I told you to stay at the inn!”

The bard took a nervous step forward, away from his hiding place, and waved bashfully. “Sorry, dear heart. Are you really- is it really you in there, Geralt?”

“Yes?” the Witcher-turned-human raised an eyebrow, lowering his arm back down to his side with no small amount of shame. “Who else would it be?”

“Well,” the bard said, taking a measured step forward. “I wasn’t sure if this was, like, a reverse-werewolf type deal. I didn’t know if you’d have the same memories as before or- or if-”

“It’s still me,” Geralt blushed, actually blushed, and dipped his head down to avoid Jaskier’s curious gaze. “I’m sorry for not telling you before, but-”

“Don’t.”

Geralt glanced back up, even more confused, his emotions playing havoc with his pulse. “I- Don’t I owe you an apology?”

“No,” Jaskier said, settling down on the rocky ground across the fire and gesturing for Geralt to join him. The flames lit up his face, highlighting the roundness of his cheeks and the softness in his eyes. So youthful, yet so determined. “If you’re still Geralt in here” - he tapped the side of his head and grinned playfully - “then you’re still my best friend.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh yeah, my Witcher is definitely in there somewhere,” Jaskier laughed brightly. The sound wound down and he wiped a tear of glee from the corner of his eye. After a long, sobering pause he asked: “So is this what you looked like before… they did all that stuff to you?”

“Before the Trials? Yes. This is what I looked like fifty years or so ago, when I was young and mortal. My shoulders are wider, of course, but that’s just old age.”

Jaskier made his way slowly around the fire, inching closer to Geralt, who had finally taken a seat on his bedroll. When the bard was right next to him, close enough for Geralt to feel their combined body heat through his shirt, he took a lock of Geralt’s hair in his hand. “It’s… it’s not as soft, like this. But it has curls! And it’s almost red!”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier looked overjoyed at the change, and every one of Geralt’s fears flashed before his eyes. He was tempted to wrench away, to fling himself up into Roach’s saddle and ride hard until they both needed a rest. 

But Jaskier had begun talking again, and Geralt did his best to pay attention. “It’s different, but not bad. I think you’re only slightly more handsome when you’re a Witcher, but  your eyes are a lovely shade of green and I’d love to do up your hair someday… if you’d like that. If you’d let me.”

Geralt made a startled noise and turned his head sharply, his eyes boring into Jaskier’s very soul. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course!”

“You don’t- you aren’t mad? Or scared? You don’t think I’m more approachable like this? You wouldn’t prefer me to be like this - like a human - all the time?”

Jaskier shook his head, a sadness Geralt often noticed but didn’t understand falling over his face. “Oh Geralt, you silly, silly, wonderful man. I don’t lo-” - he paused, took a deep breath, and continued - “I love you, okay? As a Witcher. Like this. I have always loved you and I will always love you, regardless of what you look like, but I fell in love with the White Wolf. The man whose reputation needed mending and whose heart… whose heart is so incredibly large despite how often the world tries to harden it.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt gasped. He clutched at his chest, the ache he felt there intensifying a hundredfold under Jaskier’s steady gaze. “I love you, too. I never thought-”

“You often don’t,” the bard teased, closing the space between them with careful, intentional slowness. “Now, keep up the good work and stop thinking entirely. Just kiss me, Geralt. Please?”

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” the Witcher asked, incredulous. Jaskier lifted one delicate hand and slid a lock of Geralt’s curly hair back behind his ear. He pressed a soft kiss to Geralt’s cheek and smiled. 

“Very much, darling.”

“Alright,” Geralt breathed, closing the space between them. It felt so much more intense like this, with his heart beating as quickly as Jaskier’s, threatening to burst from his chest because it was overflowing with happiness. His hand, smooth and unblemished in its current state, cupped the peach-soft skin of the bard’s cheek. He ran his thumb over the hinge of Jaskier’s jaw, feeling the bone and joint working as their mouths moved together. When they finally pulled apart they were both beaming broadly, “Was it okay?”

“You’re very soft like this,” Jaskier noted. “But I miss your eyes and your hair… when will my Geralt return?”

“I’m still yours, Jaskier. Even when I look like this,” Geralt frowned. Jaskier took one of the Witcher’s hands in both of his and held it flat over his heart.

“I know, my dear. And I’m always yours, of course. It’s just… odd. I’ll get used to it the more often I see it, I’m sure. How long does it usually last?”

“I’ll be back to normal when the sun rises.”

“Until then?”

“Come here,” Geralt held up the corner of his blanket. Jaskier shifted so that they were cuddled together, side-by-side. “Better?”

“Now that I’m with you? Of course.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

So, question J. Are you pretty much done writing for re8? I haven’t seen you upload anything for that fandom in awhile. If so, than I would like to formally say thank you, for the quality content you provided for us. Take care now :)

So this has been sitting in my inbox for a while now (don't remember exactly how long), partially because I wasn't sure about my answer, and partially because the way this message ends punched me in the feelings in the best possible way?

I don't even fully know how to explain it, honestly, but this is just really frickin sweet??? I love you for this

anyway, to answer your question: I do intend to go back and finish all of my ongoing RE8 stories (which is a fuck ton). Something I struggle with (as someone with real bad ADHD) is balancing my different interests. That often manifests with me only being able to "keep track" of a couple videogames at a time, even if there are a lot of games I REALLY enjoy within a short period of time. More importantly, my writing tends to follow whatever currently has my interest.

After HFW came out, that became my Major Focus for a bit, then I got sidetracked by other fixations (Arcane, for the most part), as well as the aspects of HFW that I didn't love

Then OOPS I got really into Fallout 76 for about a month or so, and right now I'm clutching Tiny Tina's Wonderlands in a death grip and using boss farming as a mindless activity to distract myself from recent (personal) events :)))

Except I don't, ya know, do any writing related to Wonderlands, and my other current fixation (Arcane, although it is starting to slip away from me, because I have perhaps strangled the life from it) brings with it the biggest fan project I've ever worked on.

I don't really know what I'm trying to say at this point. I guess the main thing is... I don't know when I'll get back to writing RE8 stuff. I also don't know when (read: if) my mental health will start curving back towards the ideal range, especially because so much is shifting in my overall life right now.

Trust me when I say that I REALLY, REALLY want to keep writing stuff, and that I honestly hate my lack of writing activity. I get it, I know why I'm having trouble getting anything done, but it does suck. And, well, there's not much I can do about that right now. Not directly, at least. Gotta help my family, gotta get my head right, gotta keep taking steps to ensure I can support myself.

Lastly, I just want to reiterate the fact that I think this message is a really sweet, respectful way to check in with me about my stories. I've been writing fanfic for around a decade now (not that my first ones were any good, obvs, and this blog hasn't been around for most of that time), and I've gotten tons of comments that are just "write more of this" or "when are you going to update?!?". Those, ya know, don't really motivate me. But this is polite, it expresses gratitude, and I really appreciate that.

TLDR: Yes, I will write more RE8 content. No, I don't know when. Sometimes life is a fist fight in a Denny's parking lot, but at least I've got people who will buy me a snowcone as condolences for when I get my ass kicked :D

Sincerely, -Jordan Van Daalen*