#I shall now scream about how amazing your art is

[n7punk]

Adventures in unlicensed buffoonary! Recently this SPOP "Trivia book" got listed on Ebay, which was baffling to me both because I had never seen it before and because it was listed for two hundred fucking dollars

My gut instinct was "this isn't real" because again, I'm a freak who knows all these things, and yeah I can confirm this is bullshit.

Clayton Gallagher makes himself scarce online (probably to hide out from the lawyers), so I couldn't find any social media or a website for him - not to mention it's the name of a character from one of the Shameless shows to fuzz the radar - but he seems to exclusively create "trivia" and activity books based on random popular... things. Mostly shows (Trollhunters, the Amazing World of Gumball, etc) but also some... other things (Dolly Parton for some reason??).

He has created not one, but FOUR trvia books for She-ra, all using stolen/promotional art but that carefully never include any official endorsement or mention of Dreamworks, Netflix, Mattel, or Filmation. I'm highly convinced these things were written with AI, mostly due to things like the below excerpt from the first book's summary:

Like. Jesus christ. Maybe it's just a second language thing but the lack of spaces screams machine bullshit and we'll look at the insides later.

Okay so the first book came out on August 19th 2021 (another reason I lean towards AI) and features the debut season art. All the others came out on August 20th 2021 (literally a day later) and feature the season two art, stolen licensed book cover art (from Island of the Magical Creatures), and the season four teaser art (Rebellion variant).

I can only find these things available as e-books but apparently, supposedly, this one eBay seller has a rare physical paperback, which surely must make it worth 270$. I fully don't believe this is a real paperback unless it was self-printed. I think you either get a shitty slapped-together print out or a puff of smoke if you order this.

Now lets get into the stunning content. They all start with the cover art and then the same incredibly generic header

After about two seconds of investigation I see this is a pattern with all his trivia books across franchises. They all start like this and have identical copyright pages as well. Instead of taking four screenshots to show content is identical, just trust me from here on out everything is exactly the same across the She-ra books, including chapter headings, formatting, and trivia questions. These are just cover swaps.

The final chapters cut off here are "Chapter 6" and "See you later", neither of which has a page number. Again, this awkward phrasing is either written by AI or the author is ESL and I'm pretty 50/50 split on which. Let's get into the "trivia" and see if it solves it, shall we?

So. A couple things.

Yes, it DOES have a fill-in the blank for you to write your name even though this was clearly intended to be primarily, if not exclusively, an e-book. That's bold innovation!

They start off strong with a misspelling of quiz in the fucking header.

The formatting is godawful (point to AI for inconsistency, any human would see the obvious problems here as they work - or if they cared enough to glance at the output, which they clearly don't. Why is there a random A. out of nowhere?).

The trivia questions are awful (is She-ra an America streaming show? You think this counts as trivia that a kid - the obvious target demographic - wants to know? Second, I KNOW you're saying streaming because you're so scared of the word Netflix but somehow you're not worried about using the show logo and literally stealing the promotional art for the cover?).

The trivia answers are awful. Mama? Really? Maria is the only kind of good option because it's close to Mara to trip kids up or whatever, but also none of these are "other names" for She-ra! Adora and Mara are people who bear the title of She-ra, but you can't say "Genocide Joe" is another name for president, that's not how titles work! If you wanted to use this question, the answer would be "Princess of Power".

(Also lol at the answer key for question 2 now being wrong. Shit that might have been wrong at the time, when did Nate choose a new name? 2021? 2022? All those years blur together).

Okay I know you've all been on the edge of your seat about that last question cut off at the bottom of the page and yes, it is as factually wrong as you're expecting, and only gets worse as we settle firmly into the "AI" territory.

More lists because jesus christ.

Everyone knows Adora is She-ra. This is not a secret. The answer is every member of the Rebellion and most random citizens. 5 is equally stupid given yes, they never existin the same space at the same time, but people always watch Adora transform before their eyes. The grammar is also bad, but whatever, this does segue into the next questions.

Question six is when it becomes obvious what happened: the writer fed prompts into an AI without fact-checking anything and the AI gave back answers related both to the reboot and to the original. He-man canonically does not exist - he isn't just not mentioned for legal reasons, Mattel said he straight up could not exist or ever be hinted at (due to not existing) - in SPOP. 7 is once again completely untrue in the reboot. Adora came through a portal - not necessarily kidnapped, not from Eternia, and again, no Adam

Why is only Sunna's name in black for question 9. Mostly shocked they spelled her name right.

Things somehow manage to fall apart even more in the final remaining questions available in the Kindle preview sample!

Genuinely have no idea what the answer to 15 is supposed to be. "What is the original country of SPOP have?" isn't a sentence. All I can figure is you're supposed to pick America as it's the country of origin, but I don't trust this book to even have an answer key at the end, so who knows. All that said, Earth was canon in the original, so this might be (intended to be) related to the 80s series.

The Cure took me out.

Okay but Adora isn't leading the "Great" Rebellion!! She's definitely a major leader on the field, but the answer is Angella! There is no correct option here! If they said "the Princess Alliance" I would let that go because you could argue she is the leader of the Princesses, but the rebellion? No, that's the whole military and Angella/Glimmer lead that.

17. THE ANSWER IS ANGELLA. I fully do not believe you're supposed to pick false here, this is not a trick question, they're just wrong (see question above for evidence they're stupid)

They don't even call it the Great Rebellion in the reboot....

The sample ran out and I'm not paying money to feed this AI bullshit but I don't expect it to improve from here.

Anyway this was an interesting display of Bullshit and fuck AI generated books fr

[korbydaze]

HI. I am here to let you know just how normal I am about your comic. *visibly shaking* so very normal. I have never been so normal in my life. I love your comic. No lie it is one of my favorites rn. Every time I see it in my feed I'm like "Oh, Clownical updated! :)" In such a very normal way. Definitely not screaming like a child, while dancing around your art and taking in every. single. detail. Nope, not me at all. Because I am normal. I am holding your characters so very gently. And I am holding you gently as well. *deep breath*

Your art, every panel is amazing. I'm so glad I found your comic. I am obsessed. Also, I notice how often you update. Please make sure you don't push yourself <3 Drink water, and get plenty of sleep! I shall take my leave now, please have a wonderful day/night.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LIKING CLOWNICAL AJSKJS!!! The recent comic pages are actually redraws from when I first started drawing Clownical! So technically all the work is already done 😭 the first chapter wasn’t meant to become a whole comic (which is why it’s so sketchy) but you can view it’s entirety here!

Which also includes chapters 2 & 3!

[codybennett535]

Oola x Luke AU story idea (Version 2)

NOTE: I decided to write a second version of my story idea. This version is more faithful to the film version of Oola but she still survives & develops a close relationship with Luke. Today was another miserable day for Jabba's prized Twi'lek dancer Oola. She sat on his large throne, looking down at the floor. Thinking upon how she arrived here at the palace a year ago. She was the daughter of a high ranking chieftain back home on Ryloth. Even among her kind she was considered to be the most beautiful twi'lek to ever grace the planet. Her light green olive skin was truly something to behold. Oola at a young age began to practicing the art of dancing. It was always her dream to become a great dancer & perform in front of a crowd of thousands. She always felt so more free when she danced. Granted the dream she had would most likely never happen due her life circumstances. It was the night she performed a ritual dance for her clans guest; Bib Fortuna. He claimed to be the emissary of a wealthy nobleman called Jabba. Fortuna said that Jabba was a handsome individual who loved twi'lek culture & more importantly skillful twi'lek dancers. After seeing Oola's ritual dance he offers to take Oola to Jabba's Palace on Tatooine, where she would be his honored guest & the opportunity to be his prized dancer. For Oola this was amazing! The opportunity to finally lead a good life off Ryloth and to be the honored guest of this 'handsome' Jabba. Perhaps after performing for him he would adore her & make her his palace Queen. Perhaps even more. She begged her father to let her go & to chase her dreams while it was still possible for her to do so. He reluctantly agreed to Bib's offer & Oola would leave with him immediately for Tatooine. Oola was so excited! Especially to meet Jabba. When they arrived on Tatooine it wasn't what she expected. The whole planet was one big desert wasteland, not to mention it was owned by the Hutt Cartel. Fortuna first took Oola to another female twi'lek named Madam Garsa Fwip; who owned a cartina resort called the Sanctuary & was once a talented dancer back in her younger days. Fortuna tasked Madam Garsa to training Oola to dance in certain ways that Jabba would like. Oola didn't need much training given her background but proved herself to be extremely talented at the craft of dancing. Garsa congratulated Oola on her extraordinary talent & told Fortuna she was ready for Jabba. After they arrived at the palace Oola immediately knew something wasn't right. Disgusting ugly gamorrean guards quickly grabbed her & dragged her screaming to the main audience chamber. As soon as they entered in they immediately tossed Oola onto the metal grate that was the ground. Suddenly she heard a disturbing laugh that sounded too loud & booming to be a human. She looked up & saw a disgusting fat slug creature that was no doubt a Hutt. He stared at her with bright orange eyes with black slits. He licked the air with his horrible smiley tongue. Bib Fortuna stood right beside him smiling "Jabba meet Oola. The extremely talented twi'lek dancer from Ryloth I've told you about. I hope she impresses you. For her sake." Jabba laughed even more speaking in huttese "Hahaha! We'll see. I want to see her dance. I want to see her head-tails flying from side to side like the coming wind. Her body to move with the music fast. If she proves herself worthy and I will spare her life. If she fails then I shall take sweet pleasure in watching her die screaming. And poor Pateesa has been starving lately. I have no doubt her beautiful green flesh would taste sweet. Tell her!" Bib Fortuna translated for him "You will now dance for your new Master; Jabba The Hutt & if you value your pathetic life you will dance well. If you impress your Master well enough you will be his prized palace dancer & will sit along side him as his favorite. If you displease him then you shall pay with your life & be delivered to something far more horrific than your pretty little mind could imagine. Do you understand my dear?" Oola suddenly heard a deep growl coming from below her. Something was beneath her. Something monstrous. The very thing that would take her life if she failed. She looked back up & quickly nodded in fear. Fortuna was pleased that she understood. "Begin!" The band members that resided in the audience chamber began playing a instrumental version of the song Lapti Nek. Oola picked up on her cues quickly & got into the rhythm of the dance. Twirling her body left & right. As she continued the dance many of Jabba's guests (fellow scoundrels & criminals) began watching Oola. Becoming excited as she continued to move around the throne room. Kicking her legs up high for all to see. Demonstrating that she was not a common twi'lek dancer you would find in the slums of Coruscant. She began to sweat heavily as she continued to move under the chamber light. However it wasn't simply just heat but also fear. Fear of what would happen if she completed this dance. If she failed she would suffer a horrible fate & die. If she was successful she would be a slave to Jabba. Dancing for his pleasure over & over again. Granted at least she'll get to live. But to live as a slave is almost worse. As she continued on several beats she could tell that the song was coming to an end & with the last note she finished the performance off with a low kneel. She heard the crowd going wild with loud hoots of appreciation & clapping the dancer on a performance well done. Suddenly Jabba's voice bellowed "Bring her to me!" Fortuna came up from behind her, placing his filthy claws against Oola's back. Pressing her forward towards Jabba. Jabba grabbed a hold of her with stubby slimy fingers. Examining her once more, knowing it made her feel scared not knowing his verdict of her. "You danced well…slave." Jabba laughed with sadistic joy "We have a new dancer & now you belong to me till the day your life ends. Make no mistake lovely Oola…you will learn to appreciate me." Jabba then licked Oola's face with his filthy long tongue much to her disgust. "Oh yes…you will be my favorite." Soon after Bib Fortuna had picked out a rather revealing dancing attire for Oola. It was a black fishnet body stocking that left very little to the imagination concerning her breasts & hips. Along with a black leather thong concealing her pelvis area. Tight strapped sandals on her feet, along with a annoying head-dress she was forced to wear. The cones on it covered her twi'lek ears which bothered her. However the worst of it was the steel slave collar she was forced to wear. She couldn't stand it. After everything she ended up a slave, wearing very little to nothing. Fortuna connected a leash made of knotted leather to the collar & led her back to Jabba who took possession of the leash along with Oola. For the past year Oola had danced for Jabba's amusement, cleaning his filthy obese body & on rare days had to pleasure him by allowing him to touch her green skin. He would often lick her & drool over her like she was a prepared meal. She hated every minute of it but more importantly she hated him. Whenever she saw him eat one of his paddy frogs she hoped he would choke to death on it. It would be a fitting end for a monster like him but the universe apparently wasn't so kind anymore. Men like Jabba reigned untouched while innocent people such as Oola suffered greatly. All for his enjoyment. She became a star attraction at the palace. Many of Jabba's patrons would come to watch her dance. Granted like Jabba they watched her with lustful eyes & thirsty mouths. No sympathy at all for the girl's poor situation or the fact she was a slave. All they cared about was her body moving fast to the music beat. She even overheard some of them betting on her life. "She won't last much longer. Sooner or later she'll displease him somehow & we'll finally get some REAL entertainment. I bet she'll die screaming in the pit." "I mean yeah she's pretty & all but at the end of the day slaves are replaceable. Even twi'leks like her." "She might dance well for a slave but Jabba will tire of her eventually. And then the Rancor will receive a nice tasty twi'lek snack." Hearing such things made her soul break. She meant nothing to these hive of scoundrels. Just a dancer whose life depended on the quality of her performance & if her 'Master' was satisfied with it. She once witnessed Jabba execute a man who was caught stealing credits from his vault. The Hutt activated the trap door which dropped the man into the pit. Everyone gathered around to watch. She caught someone saying "I wish it was the twi'lek getting it but this will do!" The man stood in the pit, afraid of what was to come. Begging for his life in huttese. Hoping that Jabba would spare him. But Jabba never spared thieves. The massive steel gate began to activate & rise up. Revealing the hideous Rancor that lived on the other side. Oola's eyes widened at the sight of it. It was larger than a bantha! It's skin dark brown but scaly like a reptile. It's clawed hands long enough that they could probably tear down the chamber grate. And it's rows of teeth were razor sharp. Oola knew the man had no chance of survival. The Rancor roared loudly & quickly grabbed it's screaming prey. Forcing the man into it's large jaws & devoured him. " Oola turned her face away in disgust when she heard his bones crunch. Jabba then grabbed her by her cheeks, forcing her to witness the rest. "You will do well to obey me lovely Oola. It would be such a shame to see someone as beautiful as you end up in the jaws of the Rancor. But make no mistake my dear, if you become more trouble than you're worth I will enjoy watching Pateesa feast upon your bones." Jabba said giving Oola a lick on her lekku, making her skin crawl with revulsion. Several days later the palace received two visitors who were droids: C-3PO & R2-D2. Who claimed that they had a message from Luke Skywalker; the great Jedi Knight who was battling against the Empire & a member of the Rebel Alliance. Oola had heard many stories about him, so much so that she developed a crush on the young Jedi. Luke via hologram offered Jabba a deal; bargaining for the release of his friend Captain Han Solo. A former smuggler who worked for Jabba but failed him once too many times. Now he was frozen in carbonite & used as decoration for Jabba's throne room. Sometimes Oola thought it looked worse than being dead. Skywalker was hoping they could come to an understanding otherwise "unpleasant confrontation" would take place. As a token of his appreciation he even offered the service of his droids to Jabba. Oola knew tho what his answer would be. Ultimately Jabba declared that there would be no bargain & that Solo was now his property. Much like Oola was. Later that evening Oola was performing another dance for Jabba's court. The music playing was the vocal version of Lapti Nek, performed by Sy Snootles & her band mates Max Rebo & Droopy McCool. Tonight Oola kept her mind off Jabba & thought about the handsome Jedi Knight she saw on the hologram. His handsome facial features, his soothing voice. Oola would be lying if she said she wasn't infatuated with him. Especially the stories others told of his bravery against the evils of the galaxy. Perhaps when he comes here he'll rescue her as well. Yes, her freedom would be restored & she could finally be away from this planet, away from Jabba. Oola's daydreaming got her into such a mood that she began dancing the best performance of her life. She moved her body fast with such grace & elegance, that some of the crowd members wondered if it was a really twi'lek dancing or a divine goddess in disguise. Jabba himself became insanely lustful after watching her perform her greatest dance yet. So much so that he began to pull Oola's leash hard! Wanting her to pleasure him again. Oola however refused to endure such treatment again. Not tonight. She just needed to dance. Oola spoke in huttese "Please I just wanna dance!" Jabba spoke back "Come to me my lovely pet!" Oola responded "I don't want to pleasure you!" Jabba roared "I said come here now!" He pulled the leash even harder dragging Oola forward till her feet were above the trap door that led to the Rancor Pit. Oola begged once more, not realizing how close to death's door she really was. "Master please stop!" Jabba at this point finally had enough. She would pay with her life for this insolence. Before he had a chance to hit the trap door button a loud blaster bolt was heard throughout the palace. Everyone was startled by it, including Oola. Who was quickly pulled to the throne by Jabba, laying against his filthy obese body, in fear of the palace's unwelcome guest. After one of the palace guards had been tossed aside trying to stop the intruder, from the dark corridor came a masked bounty hunter calling himself Boushh. With him was his wookie prisoner; Chewbacca. Captain Solo's first mate & friend. Boushh was trying to negotiate the price of the wookie. Saying he would only agree to 50,000. No less. When C-3PO translated the price for Jabba he became enraged. Demanding why he must pay 50,000 for a bounty that was originally 25,000. Boushh's response was pulling out a thermal detonator. Threatening to kill everyone in the room. Everyone panicked, including Oola whose heart was beating with fear. However Jabba simply laughed with amusement. Rather than being intimidated by Boushh's negotiation tactic, he was impressed. Liking his style. He agreed to pay him only 35,000. Boushh accepted the amount & deactivated the detonator. The wookie was quickly taken away to the dungeons by gamorrean guards. The party was soon back in swing, in celebration of Chewbacca's capture. Jabba demanded that Oola go back to performing & that she must dance twice as hard as punishment for disobeying him earlier. Oola reluctantly got up from the stone dias & began doing another dance that lasted for almost an hour before retiring for the rest of the night. She was beyond exhausted. At least he didn't cast her into the pit. Later that night it was revealed that the bounty hunter Boushh was actually the Princess of Alderaan; Leia Organa. One of the key leaders of the Rebel Alliance & Captain Solo's lover. Turns out while everyone was asleep, she freed Solo from his carbonite prison. She attempted to smuggle both of them out but they were quickly caught by Jabba & his forces. He suspected immediately that there was something not right about the bounty hunter & his instincts proved him right. Solo was soon taken away to the dungeons, after failing to make a deal for his release. After Leia was captured by Jabba, he considered making her into a slave at first but decides that interrogation & imprisonment might prove more useful. Not to mention how much the Empire is willing to pay for her. Later that evening Luke arrives at the palace, Oola sees him come in into the audience chamber and tries to speak "It's you isn't it? You're him! You'e Luke Skywalk.." Jabba yanks her chain, silencing her. This bothers Luke greatly, seeing a young girl being enslaved & abused by slime such as Jabba. After trying to bargain with Jabba Luke says "Nevertheless, I'm taking Captain Solo, his friends & her as well. As far as I'm concerned slavery is something that should have ended on this planet a long time ago. You can either profit by this or be destroyed. It's your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my powers." Jabba was becoming more angry minute by minute. Oola then noticed that Luke was standing on the trap door that led to the pit. "Skywalker you're standing on the.." Before she could finish her sentence Jabba yanked her chain again, proclaiming that there would be no bargain. Soon Jabba activates the trap door Luke is standing on that leads to the pit dungeon. Luke drops down below along with a gamorrean guard who grabbed him. After they both land in the pit, Oola watches in terror as Jabba's pet Rancor is unleashed upon them. She whined in disgust when she saw the gamorrean guard get eaten. But became frightened for Luke when the Rancor turned its attention to him. However Luke battled the Rancor in the pit, amazing Oola regarding his bravery towards the beast. Eventually when Luke was cornered, he grabbed a humanoid skull & threw it at the button on the wall which resulted in the pit gate coming down on the Rancor's head, killing it. Oola was beyond astounded. He had killed the Rancor! She cheered for him which resulted in Jabba pulling her leash even harder. He was very upset that his favorite pet beast had died. Jabba sentences Luke, Han, Leia & Chewbacca to death by having them delivered to the Sarlacc Pit, where they will digested for a thousand years. The next day Jabba travels the Dune Sea in his sail barge to the Sarlacc Pit. Bringing with him Oola, C-3PO & R2-D2. They soon arrive to the pit and Luke gives him one last chance to free them or die. Jabba of course doesn't listen & orders for them to be executed. Luke gives the signal to R2-D2 to launch his lightsaber. He grabs it & begins fighting back against Jabba's forces, along with his friends (including Lando who was disguised as a palace guard) Oola watches in amazement realizing that Luke Skywalker is an actual Jedi & that Jabba is powerless against him. Oola was now inspired. She was ready to fight back against her oppressor. To rebel! She immediately grabbed a statuette & used it to smash the control panel which threw the observation deck into darkness. Jabba was scared & confused, as he should be. Suddenly Oola wrapped her leash around Jabba's bulbous neck & began to tightly strangle him. She pulled harder, remembering all the terrible things he had done to her. Pulling even harder, for every time he hurt her, starved her, had her beaten & violated her for his perverse pleasure. And now he would die by the very distasteful object he had forced her to wear around her neck for a year. Jabba roared with rage, realizing he would die at the hands of a slave. With one last tight pull...Jabba was dead. It was finally done. Oola had avenged herself. R2-D2 soon cut Oola's leash off & she immediately made her way up to the deck where Luke instructed her to get the barge gun & point it at the deck (which in turn would cause the sail barge to explode once fired) Oola hangs on to Luke as he swings them both over the the skiff controlled by his friends, soon collecting the droids & leave as the sail barge explodes into flames. Oola thanks & hugs Luke for rescuing her as he leaves for Dagobah to visit Master one last time. Meanwhile Oola is taken back to Home One, where she gets some fresh new clothes. Later during the mission briefing for Endor, she willingly volunteers to join the rebels when they go to the Endor planet (wanting to make a difference in the galaxy) Suddenly Luke comes in & Oola is excited to see him as he is to see her. The two talk about how differently their lives changed in the past few years (Luke once a farm boy now a rebel Jedi knight fighting for the galaxy's freedom & Oola once a chieftain's daughter on Ryloth & a slave girl, is now a rebel fighter seeking the same freedom) Oola tells Luke that he means much to the galaxy & to her. While she was enslaved at Jabba's Palace she had almost no hope, but then she heard the stories about Luke Skywalker; a simple farm boy from the same planet who fought against the Empire & became a Jedi. Something Oola thought was only a myth. But he was no myth. He was real & perhaps her freedom could be too. This lifted her spirits so much so that she performed her best dances (thinking about Luke Skywalker) Luke after hearing this becomes very emotionally attached to Oola. The two soon share a deep passionate kiss but have to break away for the mission. Unknown to Luke, Palpatine can feel the intense connection forming between Luke & Oola and has a plan to use it for his goal to turn Luke to the darkside. Oola's team on Endor soon get ambushed by a Death Trooper squad who kill everyone else except her. She's soon transported back to the Death Star. Later Luke is taken there too, after surrendering himself to Vader (in hopes to turn his father back to the light side) Palpatine tells Luke that his father can't be saved & that the shield generator location being leaked was his plan & that the whole mission was a trap set by Palpatine himself. The Emperor then signals the guards to bring out Oola (who is now bound in cuffslinks) and is forced to sit below Palpatine (like a slave again) He knows how much Luke cares for her already & how far he'll go to protect her. He tells him how Oola will be his personal slave & how she will serve him greatly. This causes Luke to strike but Vader protects his master. During the battle Vader tells Luke that he can't be saved from the darkside & that the only way to save Oola is to embrace it. Vader begins to slowly force choke Oola, in hopes of making Luke give in to hatred & fear. This causes Luke to go dark, screaming "LEAVE HER ALONE!!!" He attacks Vader violently, cutting off his cybernetic hand. Palpatine tells him to finish Vader off & take his father's place by the Emperor's side. Oola fearing what Luke is turning into tells him "Luke...No. No. Don't become him. Not after everything you've done for me. For them! For the entire galaxy. Not you" Luke after hearing Oola's pleas looks at his own robotic hand & realizes Oola is right. This is not the Jedi way. Luke refuses to kill his father or turn to the darkside. proclaiming himself a Jedi just like his father. Palpatine realizing he's failed, begins attacking Luke with his force lightning and does the same to Oola when she tries to intervene. As Vader watches his son & his son's friend slowly dying he turns back to the light & kills the Emperor. Luke & Oola carry Vader back to the shuttle till he demands that Luke removes his mask, so he can look upon his son's face with his own eyes. Luke takes it off and the two stare at each other. Vader tells them both to go, saying that Luke already saved him & that he was right about him. Vader/Anakin soon dies & Luke grieves with Oola who hugs him tightly. Together they fly away from the Death Star just as the rebels led by Lando, blow it up as the shield gets taken down on Endor thanks to Solo, Leia, Chewbacca & the Ewoks. Back on Endor Luke gives his father a jedi funeral via fire pyre. Wondering if he could have saved him. Oola holds his hand tightly watching the flames. Meanwhile our heroes are having a full celebration with the Ewoks regarding the fall of the Empire & the return of the Republic as well as the Jedi. Luke sees the force ghosts of Obi-Wan, Master Yoda & his father Anakin Skywalker, smiling knowingly at him. During the party, Oola decides to perform the best dance of her life for Luke (With the Ewoks playing music & her wearing a ceremonial dress that they gave to her) after completing her amazing performance, Luke & Oola hold each other & kiss one last time. THE END...possibly. NOTE: This is simply a blueprint for a fanfic idea. Feel free to be inspired to use or write your version of these events & may the Force be with you.

[trekkiepirate]

I posted 317 times in 2022

49 posts created (15%)

268 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@soundsfaebutokay

@wren-of-the-woods

@ruffboijuliaburnsides

@intheseautumnhands

@a-kind-of-merry-war

I tagged 262 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#joey batey - 67 posts

#the witcher - 45 posts

#jaskier - 26 posts

#the amazing devil - 23 posts

#yennefer - 17 posts

#madeleine hyland - 14 posts

#billy the kid - 11 posts

#other people's damn fine art - 7 posts

#adorable abby - 7 posts

#anya chalotra - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and i also just assume neil gaiman summoned dream and very politely and with due deference asked him if he wanted to play himself in a show

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay but this time next week I will be IN LONDON!!!

I have been wanting to go to England and London literally all my life. I do not remember when I first wanted to go because I always have. And I am FINALLY GOING!

20 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#4

BETH. Beth Beth Beth. Joey Batey's soft, sad face and his soft, gentle voice will be my undoing. I am trying to watch Billy the Kid but I keep stopping to poke around at other things because he makes me wanna scream and it's midnight and I would wake the whole neighborhood. It's been an hour, Beth, and I'm only halfway through. Why am I like this. WHY IS *HE* LIKE THIS. I blame him for everything.

Oh my dearling, I am here for when you get to the end of the episode because if you are emotionally compromised NOW just wait until he's wrapped in a blankie and talking to his son about stars and crying I HAVE NOT RECOVERED YET and I watched it like a month ago!

20 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

#3

🪄!

A LYRIC I AM NOT NORMAL ABOUT

Surprising no one, it's The Amazing Devil, SPECIFICALLY

Though some would harm you/ none not one no none/ would raise to you/a hand nor thumb/ not while by you/ I stand and hum

First of all, how dare Joey Batey. Second of all, the way the words flow just hits all the happiest places in my brain for sound. Thirdly, the context is just so damn sweet.

23 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#2

Bethhhhhhh you were right you were right in your predictions. Joey is Billy the Kid's dad. Have you seen this trailer yet? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Cw8v1CP9W0

I KNEW IT I BLOODY KNEW IT I SHALL CROW FOR THE REST OF TIME! (and bless you darling, I hadn’t seen it yet)

Also yep, hence the beard and also EXCUSE ME SIR IRISH ACCENT and I mean, I know his dad dies (and Joey’s only in the first episode) but also HOW DARE THEY KILL OFF MY BEST BELOVED JAIL JAIL FOR THE WILD WEST FOR 1000 YEARS

26 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Heath Ledger was fine too.

On his multimillion dollar set with all the cast and crew around him.

Good to know that the world hasn't changed. People still think showing concern for mens' mental health and wellbeing is "infantilizing".

Thanks for showing how little the fandom cares beyond making Jaskier fuck Geralt.

I wasn't going to answer because your tone is very dismissive and very rude, truly I wasn't. But you hit a sore spot.

I AM concerned for Joey's mental health, broadly. He has admitted to (and wrote even a song about) being socially Anxious and I think he may also deal with Depression. So I am worried for him because I know how those conditions can badly affect people, particularly men who are seen as lesser for having and admitting to mental illness(es). If I even vaguely SUSPECTED he was hurt or mistreated on set I'd be at the forefront of the Anger Riot, believe me. But I do not know him personally, so I cannot speak to how things affect him on a day to day level. And Nonny, neither can you. We are fans. We are not his friends or his caretakers. We are outsiders to his life and should take HIS word for how he is treated.

But I also believe Joey was NOT mistreated nor was his mental health irrevocably damaged from filming this scene. Was he shaken because being tied up is strenuous and playing someone being tortured is a mental mind fuck? Yes, of course, he admits that. But he is an amazing actor and yes, it can take time to return from the dark places one's mind can go, especially for a scene like that. But he came back. He came back and moved on and did his next scenes and finished filming and moved on to further projects and is probably preparing for season 3 as we speak. And moreover, he's DONE IT BEFORE. Yes, he's new to a recurring role on large scale shows like The Witcher but Joey has been working at a decent clip since before he left Cambridge, both on stage and screen.

He has a torture scene in Wolf Hall/Bring Up The Bodies, the play he did right out of drama school (and where the gods saw fit to introduce him to Madeleine Hyland and thus brighten not only their own lives but all ours). I have heard it, he SCREAMS. He cries, he sounds very very NOT OKAY. But y'know what? He was. Joey has done death scenes and stunts and has played characters in very dark mental places. So doing a physically and mentally and emotionally demanding scene is not new to him. And he did it on a set full of people that Joey specifically mentions multiple times in multiple interviews as being supportive of him, looking after him. He mentioned having panic/anxiety attacks (I believe anxiety but cannot recall exactly which rn) and that his friends and colleagues on The Witcher were incredibly supportive and kind to him. I place his own words about his experience as closer to the truth of the matter than people who are misconstruing what sounds like a scary situation to them, out of context. That's why I made the post, to give context to how these sorts of things usually go.

Are there still sets where an experience like this was probably the worst of an actor’s life? Yes, of course, we know this. But it is not the majority and I cannot believe that was the case here.

I cannot speak to Heath Ledger's experience, I wasn't engaged enough to read all his interviews the way I do Joey's. Though I was shocked and utterly heartbroken when he died. As I was with Robin Williams. As I was when I learned how River Phoenix and Jonathan Brandis died, after the fact. I think caring about men's mental health is GREAT and necessary and bloody important and that more people SHOULD care. But I think creating issues where there were none is not the way to go about it.

Lastly, honestly at this point I'm more on the Yennskier train. I can separate what I WANT from what the show GIVES because that's the point of fandom and fic. Going "Okay but WHAT IF these characters DID kiss?" But this isn't about shipping. It's not about pitting characters or ships or actors or people against each other. This is about how people are overly worrying about Joey's mental health and not Anya's. Or Freya's even. Both had dark mental places to go this season (and last season), both had physically taxing scenes. Anya was also restrained in a torture scene this season, but no one drew a comparison even though it is easy to make. No one asked if she was okay. No one worried she was mistreated they way some folks have claimed Joey was.

I think it boils down to some people want to hate the show and the people who make it, but not hate Joey. So if they can say Joey was mistreated (and I truly, TRULY believe he was not) on set or by the show then they can justify being a fan of his while hating on a show he SPECIFICALLY calls the best job he's ever had. Where he mentions again and again that he was supported by everyone: cast, crew and creatives.

So, I do think it is infantilizing to dismiss His Own Words because they don't fit the idea some folks have formed of who he is or how he is treated on set. I would highly recommend reading this interview: https://boysbygirls.co.uk/conversations/joey-batey (done AFTER FILMING) as it is a very in-depth and revealing one about who Joey really is and how he operates in the world and how he finds his equilibrium when it's thrown off, whether by work or life in general. He has a good support system, Madeleine of course and he mentions his sisters. He has good coping mechanisms, creating music and writing and building furniture apparently that was a new one. :) I think he has one of the healthiest perspectives on life I have ever heard and I think it has taken him years and support and work to get there for himself. And I am very glad he seems to be doing so well in his life. Because I want him to be happy and healthy.

Joey was and is fine. Your concern about him is good! Caring about him is good! Your misplaced anger is not good.

61 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[polarisbibliotheque]

Shall Never Surrender Project

Hey there, little stars! Hope you are all doing ok!

Like I said some time ago, I want to organize a project Devil May Cry related - and thus, Shall Never Surrender Project is here!

(do apologize eventual mistakes, I'm typing on my cellphone)

What is it?

The Shall Never Surrender Project is for people to request me full illustrations tied to the Devil May Cry series and something personal to them - as something to give them strength to keep going, no matter what.

DMC has given me strength and hope when I had none - and I know how, sometimes, we need something visual to remind ourselves of our inner power.

The illustrations will be allowed to be used as tattoos, stickers, wall arts, notebooks, mugs... Whatever the person who requests it needs!

The only requirement: at the end of the day, they need to have a deep meaning to the requester. Something that will inspire and warm their heart ^^

What's the motivation behind it?

Devil May Cry is really important in my life - it has helped me with some really heavy stuff, and I want to give it back to the people who need it too.

13 years ago, Dante helped me understand my depression and isolation, being the friend I needed and never had. Some time later, Nero appeared and held my hand, helping me push through pain, without ever surrendering. And now, Vergil is walking by my side, teaching me to endure through failure and reclaim my name.

I know how important some stories and characters can be to some people - and how, sometimes, they are the only strength we have during rough times.

How it works?

If you're struggling with anything - for example, depression, self-harm, PTSD, anxiety, shortage of money, family issues, toxic relationships and many other issues (I can't list everything here, but it's open to other things too!) - and Devil May Cry is your comfort place with your comfort characters, I want to help you.

There isn't much I can do - but I can illustrate something for you!

You want a sticker of yourself with Dante having strawberry sundaes? You got it.

You want a lockscreen of Vergil with a part of the lyrics of Bury the Light to remind you of your strength every day? Done.

You want Nero holding your hand and crossing through Angelos screaming that none of you will ever surrender? Sure, I'll do it!

You need a tattoo saying "no hiding in the shadows anymore" with your pride flag? No worries, I'll help design it.

What to know before requesting?

This is to help and inspire people to survive and never give up. I want you to remember someone in the world cares and wants your heart to stop suffering.

Therefore, the requests must have a meaning to you.

If you request something just because you want a free DMC drawing, I'm sorry, but this isn't for you. There are SO many artists, much more talented than me even, who can do something amazing for you!

But if you request because you want something as a reminder, something that gives you that motivation you need every day to keep going, then I'll be more than happy on working on it for you!

What I do and don't do?

I don't work with NSFW/sexually explicit art, nor will I do anything Spardacest related.

Regarding gore, I don't do crazy heavy gore - but I'm ok with scars. I know some of them are important.

*Do remember these are motivational. I won't depict someone actually getting hurt, but I will deaw Kyrie tending to their wounds, for example.

I will do self-insert, original characters, characters from the series and such.

But if you request Agnus or Mundus I will severely judge your sanity.

What info should you send me?

I need to know a few things:

Why does this matter to you? What's your story? How does DMC help and what can I do for you? The more detailed the description of the illustration, the better. Feel free to send me references, pinterest boards, parts from the game... Everything! Don't worry about "talking too much", there's no such thing in this household. You're not annoying me, I find it endearing;

What will you do with the illustration? I need to know so I can choose the right dimension and quality of the file. Will it be a lockscreen? A sticker? A print? A tattoo? A shirt? A mug? A notebook? Something else entirely?

Is there a quote you want to add? Be mindful, it's only DMC universe related (manga, games, novels, songs... Poems for good ol' Verge and V);

Where do you prefer to contact me? I prefer tumblr or instagram, but feel free to choose whatever you prefer. I'm not available on astral projection at the moment though, my energy is a little off;

Where can I send you the finished file? Email? Drive? I'll need to know it, so keep it in mind.

And after the request?

I'm currently ill and low energy (think V dragging himself around everywhere, that's literally me) and this is a personal project, so it might take a while. I will do it whenever I can, but sometimes I spend whole weeks on doctors and hospitals - with some patience, we will get to your final illustration!

I might take a week or a month. It will really depend ;)

After it's done, I'll love to see what you did with it! Feel free to post on social media and tag me or send me a picture - it will be yours and I hope it will brighten your day!

Questions & Answers

What if I want to request but I don't have a clear idea on what I want? Feel free to message me! If you have a general idea, we can chat about it and I can sketch some samples to see if you like. Do research a bit on some artworks on pinterest and such, of many styles (art nouveau, classic painting, modern art, manga covers, manga and manhwa artworks, instagram artists, traditional tattoo, fineline, game concept art... the options are endless!) it could help you find something that suits what you want;

Does it NEED to be DMC related? Yes, it does. It's the whole point of the project;

Do I need to send you a quote or lyrics? No, it isn't obligatory. Although, I think it can add a lot of motivation to keep going!

Can I request couple interactions? This is a tricky one. You might, if it really matters to you. For instance, you and your favourite character hugging in the rain and such, but I wouldn't say the same for character ships;

Would you refuse a request with characters' ships? Well, I don't see how a drawing of, let's say, Dante and Lady kissing would help your rough days. I know it can be an escape and quite endearing, but I want to do something with deep meaning for you, not just something anyone could've requested with no special meaning. But if it REALLY means something to you having some characters as a couple (as a teen, I'd picture me as Trish, so I'd always ship her with Dante back then), please, do explain to me so we can think about it!

So, if you're drawing couples, can you draw them kissing? I'd prefer not to. Holding hands and hugging is the most I can do right now - kissing and beyond is not on my art skills at the moment;

Any other question that didn't show up here? Send me an ask and I'll answer you!

I see the Devil May Cry as this place we all eventually call home. We're all on different roads, doing our own things, but every once in a while, one of us drops by the shop, spending some time with Dante and the crew - and now, with each other, even if just a little.

And I want you to remember that, no matter what you're going through, you'll always find support at the Devil May Cry - with Dante, the crew and us.

I've been looking for some voluntary work, but currently I don't have much physical strength or energy. I can draw, though, and I want to do something with it - so far, for now, this is what I can do!

I hope I can help you guys to keep fighting. And I hope this will be the light so many people are needing to remember that we shall never surrender 🖤

*I don't think there'll be too many requests, but I'll eventually open spots if there are too many at the same time for me to handle ^^

[husbandohunter]

Hey, I just found your blog through your adorable A Smaller Predicament headcanons. You’re an amazing writer and I was wondering if you could please do a version of that for Venti?

A Small(er) Predicament [Venti x Reader]

Synopsis: When you have to deal with each other's quirkiness as either him as a child or you as a pocket-sized human being

(Two seperate scenarios of Smol Series 1 and 2)

(A/n): Awww you're too kind anon and Venti is such a good addition to this. He's already babie (just look at the art #protecc)

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

Venti as a smol baby

The price for the Anemo Archon taking the form of a 12-year old boy had errupted some unique reprocussions after the potion effect: Rather than a young child with the capacity of walking at best, he reduced to something much much younger...a baby.

This meant that Venti will articulate the exact traits of an average one year old except he's more chaotic given his godly powers. It's because he's yet to learn his powers, if Klee could blow up the entirety of DragonSpine, then Barbatos would spin a tornado enough to flatten the mountains and plains altogether. You pray to god when he happens to sneeze (until you realize he is the god). Time to duck under the table, every item would fly off their tables and snot would be coming down his nose...which you have to wipe now (yuck!)

No matter what form he takes, Venti is still the same troublemaking, free-spirited to a fault and mischevious bard. The type to cry at least three times during sleeping hours and you wake up the next day completely deprived of energy. He's a messy eater as well as a picky eater. Food would constantly be stained around his face to the point you feel uncomfortable looking at him. Oh and if you ever try feeding him meals that he dislikes, Venti will either dodge your spoon or blow it away that it splashes all over your shirt.

Does. not. drink. milk. You fight to shove the bottle into his mouth which ends up with him crying a ear-splitting scream. It's almost embarassing trying to feed him in public. Because what Venti wants is not milk, he wants wine. WINE. You knew because "wine" was his first word. The amount of stress he gives you almost wants to make you cry too. So you often had to bring him to the Cathedral and ask the sisters to help instead. Turns out singing songs helps him calm down alot.

However when there are times where Venti is behaving, he's an absolute cutie. He laughs alot, a bubbly and gurgly giggle where you can almost hear his signature "Ehe" except now its an "Eehee". For some reason, Venti loves to bite. He will take a strand of your hair and put it in his mouth. If you bring him close to your face, he'll lean in and chomp your cheek. You're not sure why but that's just his way of showing affection. Most of the time he may stink as a baby, but after a good shower he smells like the fresh minty wind that had blown through the whispering woods.

Once he turns back to his normal self, Venti acts like nothing much happened. Doesn't even apologize for all the trouble he committed. He just says "That was fun!"

When you turn pocket-sized

Boy oh boy you two are going to have lots of fun together ehe ^_^ But don't worry. Venti has no malicious intent. Just his mischeivious tricks like usual. It's like having his own verison of Paimon! Oh, you can't fly? That can be fixed. He crafts you a mini wind-glider when actually it's a cheap folded paper airplane he made in just ten seconds, sticks you on it using tape before using his powers to generate a wind current. You were screaming for your life.

But it doesn't stop there. With you brand new powers, you guys can now be partners in crime! Big and small. As he distracts the staff at the Dawn Winery, you can sneak into the cart and push the apples down into his bag. Or what about sneaking underneath the door to unlock the cathedrals cell where all of the wine stash is hidden?

"No? *sigh* such a shame. We could have been really great partners. A fantastic duo hehe! But you know, now that I'm looking at how small you are, this kinda reminds me of...nevermind. Where shall we be off to next?"

He lets you slip underneath his beret hat. Despite being the wind god, it never falls off. Whenever you shift and push out from the edges of his hat to take a peek outside, Venti can feel your knees digging into his head. Although the feeling can be a bit nagging sometimes and that he has to get used to, at least he has someone to scratch for him whenever he feels itchy!

Whenever you need help climbing on top of furniture, sometimes you'll feel a gentle boost ghosting in the air. Even when Venti isn't around, he keeps in mind to help you navigate your surroundings whenever you need to. Also considering that he's so short himself, sometimes he'll lift you to the top shelves to get something for him.

When you turn back, he says he's going to miss the times where you're flying around in a tiny form. It brings him a sense of deja-vu. Regardless, Venti makes sure to implement this into his songs and stories, a tale of two figures of different sizes ready for adventure!

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

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

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[trans-p03g]

No point using anon because I too am invested with the concept, it was me all along ahaha!

Mags game would be real big, he has planned a lot of things and with P03's help in means of 'fair play' n such, ya know? Touch of strategy which fits the theme of battle. Still a card game, yes, but with killer visuals.

Concept art, layout, theme, the music, the character designs-- Mags had worked real hard on finalizing his work. His magnificent work. He still remembered when P03 praised him when he was near completing. Speaking of P03...

As the world shifts once more, P03 lends the power of the Old Data to Mags. The void surrounds them for a moment, stars surrounding them. It'll take a moment or two for Mags to process his control and play his game.

The world shifts and they were in this sort of kingdom now. Mox Kingdom, Mags tower now being the center of a large castle. Pillars and all that, tiled floors, hedge mazes, it screamed magicks. And P03 didn't scoff at it, no, it nods at the theme.

With things loading in, all they need to do is wait... it's just them now. Just them. Surrounded in a world so familiar. Music seeps in and P03 notices, it was different than the one playing Leshy's cabin- thankfully. It was nice.

So they waited. And waited. And waited. It wasn't agonizingly long since Mags used the time to double check on his layout, making sure nothing was out of place. P03 just stands there for a moment before striking a conversation- obviously bored.

"Where are you gonna put me?" P03 asks, genuinely curious.

"Where do you want me to put you?"

Mags definately won't paint P03 as a card, aware that P03 had enough damage done back when it was a stoat card. Even if P03 is simply fine being stacked away in a locked room around the area- Mags felt like it wasn't right. There can be use to having P03 around- game wise, obviously. It's not like Mags wanted P03 around... scratch that, Mags wanted the bot around.

An NPC? Could work but it felt lackluster, that and P03 refused to be turned into a mage or worst- GOO. It was kinda fine with the Knight models though, it liked the armor.

Then, Mags had an idea. His eye swirls, inspired, he holds his paintbrush close.

"A Guide" Mags says

"What? Like a tutorial guide?"

"Yes, a guide for the Challenger. You will have some control in the first phase before they move one."

"How thoughtful," P03 smirks "I'm gonna assume you're whipping up a new model for me, huh?"

"I have a few ideas in mind"

"Just tweak the already existing models from our experimental game. It'll save you time"

"Nonsense, I shall give you a suitable form. One that holds the key parts of you"

"Like... that mox card of yours with energy on it? Stim Mage?"

"For your case; Stim Knight"

P03's screen displays dots before turning to a grin.

"I like that a lot."

I WAS FOOLED, TIS WAS YOU ALL ALONG /j

I am absolutely OBSESSED with this! Eating this up like a 5 course dinner

The visuals sound amazing and I love the idea of Stim Knight P03 😳

Ik this isn't really about them, but do ya have any ideas about what Grimora and Leshy could be in Magnificus' game? Would he turn them into cards?

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 5/6

First off, massive thanks to the @cssns​, my beta @demisexualemmaswan​, and my artist @cocohook38​. Cocohook created this amazing cover art, and she is working on something else too to go with this story. The rough sketch made my jaw drop, so I can’t wait for ya’ll to see it!

This part  is going to be a little long, but I need to address something that I got multiple comments about. Just bear with me; this is the only way I can think to clear things up. I was really surprised to see that some people were angry at David and Mary Margaret for not doing anything to find Emma and/or "allowing" her relationship with Neal. Others simply expressed things along the lines of "I hope you explain what David and Mary Margaret did about all this." The reason this reaction surprised me so much is because I thought it was clear that they HAD done something. Why would the Golds need to get rid of police files if the Swans never reported Emma missing? Why would issues of the newspaper be missing from the library if Emma's disappearance wasn't reported on? Obviously, David and Mary Margaret did something! As for Neal, they had no idea Emma was seeing him. If you'll recall, in a previous chapter, Emma told Killian she had to sneak out at night to meet Neal. So that wasn't Snowing's fault either. Also, how would any of these characters know what David and Mary Margaret did or didn't do for their daughter? This is almost a hundred years later, and Emma's memories are dulled from being a ghost for so long. The only way I could spell out clearly how Snowing handled their daughter's disappearance would be some sort of convoluted info-dump, and I didn't want to destroy the tone and mood of the story to do that. But just so everyone knows: Yes, Emma's parents were devastated. They did everything in their power to find her, never giving up hope (which is so in character for them!). They died still believing she was either still out there or that crimes against her had gone unpunished. It broke their hearts. The Golds spread rumors that Emma was some kind of slut who ran away with a guy, and the people of Storybrooke overall thought the Swans had gone crazy. So there it is, that's the back story that I just couldn't figure out how to fit in the story, lol.

I'm not mad at the questions, to be clear. I was just surprised by them. I guess I blame the show for ruining these two as parents the last couple of seasons. Maybe that's why everyone jumped on them so fast. I was also honestly worried that ya'll would be upset with me for not addressing the topic, hence this long explanation! No one was rude by any means, so don't go trying to defend me from nonexistent trolls, lol! My feelings have NOT been hurt. I simply wanted to address the questions that were asked and the misplaced anger toward Snowing. (Not anger towards me - but fictional characters!)

Okay, now that I've cleared all THAT up, let's get on with the next chapter, shall we? And I'll go ahead and warn you: this is gonna hurt . . .

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @spartanguard​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @carpedzem​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lassluna​ @distant-rose​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbythesea​ @thesschesthair​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @batana54​ @it-meant-something​ @xsajx​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​​

Chapter Five: Run

“You’ve got to tell them what you saw - what you’ve learned,” Killian pleaded. 

Graham shook his head, his curly hair falling in his eyes as he stared at the slender hands he clasped in his. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw sported far more facial hair than it normally did, and Killian didn’t have to ask if he’d slept in the past forty-eight hours. 

“They won’t believe me.”

Killian’s jaw clenched in frustration. “But if I saw Emma, and you saw her, then maybe they’ll believe -”

“That Belle saw a ghost push Mike Gaston off the troll bridge? They’ll believe that? Really?” Graham let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh. “You really are just a naive kid if that’s what you're thinking.”

“But you’re a cop!”

“I’m still only nineteen! They’ll think we’re just over-imaginative teenagers.” Graham paused, reaching up with one hand to trace the curve of Belle’s cheek as she slept in her drug-induced prison. “That will land us in rooms just down the hall with our own IV full of an antipsychotic cocktail. How will I help her then?”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. 

Graham sighed. “How could I not? And how could he -” He broke off, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. If I’d been there and saw him hurt her -”

“Shh, I wouldn’t say things like that. Not here.”

Killian’s gaze fell to the bruises around Belle’s neck, and he didn’t blame Graham at all. It terrified him to think what could have happened if Emma hadn’t shown up.

“History repeats itself,” he murmured under his breath. 

*************************************************

Killian had scarcely arrived at the bridge when headlights blinded him. He turned away, blinking, stumbling, refusing to be stopped. 

“Emma! Emma!” he shouted. He tripped and dropped his flashlight. It broke as it hit the ground, rolling to the edge of the bridge. Now all he could see was ebony before him and radiant luminescence behind him. 

His palms scraped against the asphalt as Liam hauled him to his feet. His brother gripped his upper arms so tightly it was almost painful, and he gave him a brief shake. 

“You’ve got to stop this!”

Killian fought him. “I have to see her!”

Liam had always been broader than Killian with an unfair advantage in all their childhood tussles. Even now, Killian was no match for him as he lifted him bodily with one arm and hauled him over to his car. 

“You need help!” Liam literally tossed him into the backseat. 

“I’m not going home!” Killian tried to scramble out, but Liam just shoved him back inside. 

“Good, because I’m not taking you home.”

*******************************************************

“Why won’t you be straight with us, kid?”

Killian glared at the detective with a cynical sneer. The psychiatrist on the cop’s left frowned at Killian’s attitude. The choice of words was cruel considering he was in a literal straightjacket. His vision of the two men was obscured by the long strands of dark hair before his eyes. Haircuts were apparently seen as a luxury on the psych ward. 

“I’ve answered all your questions,” Killian finally told them wearily, “you just don’t like what I had to say.”

“Because we want the truth,” the psychiatrist, Dr. Archie Hopper, said gently. He was clearly playing the part of “good cop.” Or “good doctor.” Whatever.

“I told you the truth.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “Tell that to Mike Gaston.”

The detective’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. “Mike Gaston was the victim of murder.”

“The victim!” Killian cried, his voice snapping up. “What about the bruises he put on Belle? Or the fact that I nearly died when he tied me to that bridge!”

The detective’s lips curled up in a lewd sneer as he lit a cigarette. “If some horny teenager likes it a bit rough, that’s none of my business.”

Killian fought his bonds, his jaw clenching at the detective’s insinuation. He was as bad as Neal Gold, maybe worse. He had to be pushing fifty at least, and a pot belly strained at his button up shirt. His eyes widened as Killian raged.

“Bothers you though, I see.” He leaned forward. “Nobody blames you for wanting her, kid. Nobody blames you for being jealous. But murder? That’s a different story.”

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!”

The detective glanced at Dr. Hopper, and the soft spoken psychiatrist took over. “Killian, start at the beginning for us. What did Belle say when she called you that night?”

“I’m telling you, she didn’t call me, she didn’t come to my house. I saw her early that afternoon at the library. That was it. Then my brother got a phone call that there had been an accident, and we came to the hospital.”

“You and Belle were at the library together a lot,” Hopper said softly, “what did you two do there?”

Killian rolled his eyes. He hated the patronizing way the man asked the question. “We studied. Did our homework. We were friends.”

The detective snorted again, and Killian wanted to scream. “Drop the act, kid. You really expect us to believe that you spent all that time with her, all that time with a hot chick, and you never fucked her?”

Dr. Hopper recoiled at the foul language, and Killian thought his own jaw might actually break. 

“You’re just as much a misogynistic, narrow-minded, neanderthal as Mike Gaston.”

The detective grinned and slapped Dr. Hopper on the knee. “You were right, shrink, this kid’s smart.” He took another puff of his cigarette as he eyed Killian. “Smart enough to plan an elaborate murder with your knocked-up girlfriend?”

“That’s the most ridiculous - wait - did you say knocked up?”

“Hm,” the detective mused, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his five o’clock shadow. “You didn’t know?”

Killian was horrified when a laugh slipped past his lips. Another bitter laugh followed, then another, until before he knew it, he was shaking with them. He was laughing hysterically while wearing a straightjacket. That thought made him laugh even more, and if he didn’t seem like a lunatic before, he sure as hell did now. 

“What the hell is so funny?” thundered the detective.

Killian’s laughter stopped abruptly and he leveled the man with an intense stare. “History repeating itself. That’s what’s so funny.”

A smile that he knew bordered on manic curled his lips. Yes, history had repeated itself, and this time, Emma Swan had won. 

************************************************************

They didn’t have enough to charge him, or Belle, or anyone else really with Gaston’s murder. It was officially declared an accident, and theoretically, Belle French and Killian Jones were free to move on. 

Killian wouldn’t say it was easy for Belle. She had severe trauma from that terrifying night, and she ended up losing the baby because of it. Nevertheless, she had Dr. Hopper’s patient help, her father’s support, and Graham’s unwavering devotion. Soon, though it would be a long time before she was truly healed, she was able to go home. 

Killian, on the other hand, didn’t really want to go home. For one, he, unlike Belle and Graham, refused to stop talking about Emma - refused to lie and say he made it up. He didn’t fault his friends for it; didn’t take it as a betrayal. He even understood their reasoning when they begged him to do the same and just play along, damn it. He simply couldn’t do it. Emma was too real, too precious. He knew her in a way they never would. He knew the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that go.

The psych ward wasn’t so bad. The drugs numbed him to the point that he sailed on a sea of oblivion half the time. He’d stopped fighting, so there was no more straight jacket, no more bed straps. 

And she came to him. Sometimes the drugs meant he wasn’t lucid enough to really carry on a conversation. On those nights, she curled up next to him on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheeks. She pressed kisses to his lips, and sometimes he could respond in kind. 

Other times, though admittedly rare, they would talk. About everything and nothing at all. One night, they talked about their dreams for later, after high school, and suddenly Emma began to weep. 

“I know,” he soothed, brushing her forehead with a kiss, “you fear you can never have that. But maybe we can figure it out. If we somehow get the truth out. About your murder -”

Emma silenced him with a finger to his lips. “That isn’t it, Killian. It’s you. I have no more tomorrows but you can.”

His brow furrowed, and she sighed and soothed the lines away with the pad of her thumb. 

“But not if you keep holding onto me.”

His arms instinctively pulled her closer. “I’ll never let you go.”

She sighed, and sadness filled her eyes. She slipped out of his embrace and rose from the bed. Her skin grew white, her gown floated in an ethereal way at her feet. He frowned and scrambled to a sitting position. 

“I have to say goodbye,” she told him. She said it with an edge of discovery in her voice. Her lips turned up in a soft smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

He shook his head and tried to reach for her, to leave the bed, but he had just enough drugs in his system to make his movements sluggish and ineffectual. 

“I won’t let you see me again.”

“No, Emma, please! I love you!”

“And I love you. That’s why I have to do this.” 

She was already fading away. Killian made a fist and slammed it into his thigh. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Be happy,” she told him, “for me.”

Then she was gone.

[is-nini]

Albedo x reader

Highschool

A/n: have an idea, think that this will be sweet, watch me but butcher the story but enjoy anywaaeeee 😂 also as you can see, art by hanapen XD.

You sigh in dream like state at a certain Alchemist man in your class, his cream hair is so fluffy and healthy, his blue eyes... You can drown in them for all you care, one thing is sure about you though you are deeply In love with this man.

Some people say that you're too young to grasp the concept of "Love" and well.. that is certainly true to some people but for you, if this thing is truly just a crush how can it be this bad?

If this is just a crush how can you feel the need to wanna be beside him? If this feeling is just a Simple crush over a guy in school then why is it this strong?

A question you asked yourself and don't know the answer of just like the question that the teacher was about to ask you.

"l/n, can you answer question number 13?".

You immediately stand straight up, making a loud screeching noise because of the chair and the floor, you nervously smile and tries to count the solution on the board.

"u-uhm.. sixteennnnn?".

You asked back, elongated the "en" on the word sixteen, the teacher nod and a huge relief is being lifted up, as usual you sat down look over your crush and saw that he is looking at you, his hand right hand is resting on top of the table and his cheek rest on his palm as his gaze glazed over yours. Your face went instantly red as you keep your gaze on him, not knowing what to do.

Albedo giggle and put a thumbs up as if saying "good job".

You Can't help but feel butterfly all over your stomach. You nod your head up and down as fast as you could and then quickly look away. Gosh you feel like a mess.

Without you knowing, Albedo thinks that you are a cutie. The way your face would go red whenever you saw him, the way you're doing all the calculation inside your head, the way you walk, and oh he could go on and on.

Albedo never understood the concept of "crush" or "Love" he never really learn about this stuff unless necessary. So he is surprised when he felt funny in his stomach whenever he looks at you, he felt warm on his insides whenever he thinks of you. What is this feeling he felt? It felt... Good but it's so foreign to him.

Despite all the love letters he got per day that he looks through just trying to see your name throws away, he doesn't understand this.. thing. Albedo is a man of theory and since feelings is not part of the brain rather than the heart, he rarely takes his heart seriously.

Well he always have sucrose, maybe he can ask her about it after class is over.

And as if his situation is in luck, the bell suddenly rang, the teacher said a couple of words before dismissing the class.

The students instantly runs out of the class, some of them are waving at you, some of them goes instantly to their group of friends.

Albedo stays in the classroom for a while to look at you opening your bento and was preparing to eat. He don't know what came over him but his legs are leading him towards you.

You felt a presence beside you and so you look up just to see your crush. WHAT IS HE DOING ON YOUR TABLE. your mind is freaking out, every sound is blocked out of your ear, the only thing you can hear is the huge thumping of your heart.

"hello y/n".

"h-hai albedo".

You greets him back, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering. Albedo almost giggle at you cute stutter but keeps his composure instead.

"you seem to be eating alone? Would you like to join me and Suceose?".

He asked you, at first you're happy about it but after hearing "Sucrose" your heart just drops to your stomach.

Oh yeah ... Sucrose is his best friend.. they're always togather outside class.. Albedo probably likes her and just felt bad for you eating alone.. your negative thoughts starts swirling in your head as you forgot all about the question Albedo asked.

Albedo saw your face drops and you spacing out, he furrowed his eyebrow and puts the both of his hand on your shoulder and shake you gently.

"y/n?".

His deep calm voice snaps you out of your negatif trance, you quickly smile up at him and gave him a nod.

"sure".

✨✨✨

Sitting down at the chair beside Sucrose and Albedo you eat your bento quietly and slowly, feeling nervous being around Sucrose. You've never talked to her before but you certainly has heard her name before, how could you not? She's always with Albedo. Your heart crunch with jealousy everytime you think about both of them spending time togather.. you wish you were Sucrose.

Sucrose felt a tense aura from you, while Albedo is just calmly eating his food, looking pretty calm and collected. Sucrose clears her throat, catching yours and Albedo attention.

"so, is this your girlfriend that you have been talking about Albedo?".

You almost choke on your chiken. Girlfriend?! What?!

"u-uhm.."

You were about to say something when Albedo suddenly cuts you off, maybe he didn't heard you, your voice does sounds like a whisper of wind.

"yes, she is the girl that i have been talking about".

Sucrose looks at you and smile softly, she offers you her hand which you shake back with no hesitation.

"hello, I'm Sucroce, nice to meet you!".

"hello Sucroce I'm y/n, it's a pleasure to meet you too".

Despite you being jealous of Sucroce, she is a nice person... That's why Albedo choose her probably.. no stop! Stop thinking about them.

You smile at her as you both pull away. Albedo scoot over to Sucroce and whisper to her about something, she nod a couple of times before coughing at the end. She looks at you and smile sweetly and then it's her turn to whisper to Albedo about something. After they're both are done Albedo's face looks slightly flushed while Sucroce looks so satisfied.

"so.. i need to go.. you and Albedo have fun okay y/n~".

She said, making your face as red as mr. Diluc's hair. Albedo clears his throat making you looks at him in wonder. Albedo smile softly at you and hold one of your shoulder.

"i just found a very beautiful place and think that you might want to see it.., care to join me after school?"

He asked, you face is shocked but you quickly nod your head excited.

"s-sure i would love too".

Albedo puts his hand on your head and stroke your head gently, pushing away some of your hair that was covering your face.

"great, I'll wait for you after school".

Albedo giggle seeing your awe struck face, your eyes shine so bright.. and your smile is the smile that he wants to see everyday... Just for himself..

🌟🌟🌟

The bell rings meaning the end of the class is finally here. You never concentrate on anything that the teacher said, you're too busy admiring the scenario that could happen when you're and Albedo were alone later.. gosh your imagination is so wide..

Being drowned in your imagination, you didn't notice the man that you're dreaming of is right beside you.

"y/n?"

His voice snapped you out of your trance and you clumsily stands up, making Albedo holds your hand.

"becareful, you could get hurt. What are you pondering about?"

He asked, you just shake your head and say "nothing" there no way you would say oh i was dreaming about you and i no! That's not okay.

Albedo laugh and helps you pack your books inside your bag, you quickly stopped him but it was too late. His next action really surprises you, he pick up your backpack and then takes your hand gently.

"w-wait- Albedo- i can bring my backpack".

You said, face red as your hands tries to reach you back, but Albedo quickly pull it away from your grasp, laughing.

"it's fine y/n. Let's go shall we?"

He guided you to the exit of the school, people are looking at you and Albedo, some whisper and gossip goes around the school.. well.. you'll be the talk of the school now... You're hand in hand.. with Albedo.. the cleverest and the most beautiful man in the school.

You looked down to the ground, Albedo felt something and so he looked behind to check on you, he saw you looking down as if trying to cover your face with your hair. Albedo stopped walking in the middle of the gate and held your chin up, really causing a scene.. YOU'RE AMAZING ALBEDO BUT- PLEASE BE MORE DISCREET you scream inside your brain.

"are you okay? Are you sick? Your face has been red..."

He asked you as if you're both are not in the middle of the gate where everyone is looking at the both of you as if you're both an idol.

"A-Albedo.."

You whisper, he finally realized how close he is, he clears his throat and take a step back, looking away.

"my apologies".

You saw how guilty he looks.. you feel bad so you slowly grab his hand, he slowly intertwine his fingers to yours, feeling comfort in your touch.

Albedo guide you to the place he talks about which is on the nearby hill. The walk there is so quiet, the wind is blowing pass your hair as you enjoy the wind not realizing that you're companion is stealing glances at you- he can't help it.. you're so.. pretty.. magistic.. someone that he cares so much..

"Albedo?"

You asked, you keep feeling his eyes on you, so you wonder is there something on your face or something? You hope you didn't get any food or dust on your face... It would be embarrassing..

"yes?"

"is there something on my face?".

You tilted your head, Albedo closes his mouth with the back of his hand and look away.

"nothing.. were here".

Albedo state, you look up the hill and saw a pretty silver tree, you gasp as your eyes twinkle.

"it's pretty right? I thought you might like it".

"like it? I love it Albedo!!! Thankyou!"

You squeal and hugs him and kiss his cheek, being overly excited you cannot control your emotions. Albedo is shocked by your act but hugs you back again.

"glad you love it.. actually.. y/n i wanna ask you something.."

You pull away, still not realizing your act that you did just now and looks at him with full curiousity.

"yes? What is it?"

Albedo took a step toward you and clears his throat.

"would you like to be my.. girlfriend?"

His words makes your eyes wide as a saucers and you stare at him with wide gaping eye your mouth open and close, Albedo looks so heart broken, taking your silence as a no, before he said anything you quickly cuts him off.

"yes.. YES!"

You squeal and hugs him again heart full of butterflies and flowers, filled with ice cream and cherry- basically just everything nice. Albedo seems happy too because right now, without you noticing is currently kissing your lips, without thinking you kiss him back with a smile on your face as he slowly pulls away.

Albedo takes your hand and kiss it as you giggle away. Albedo smile softly at you, looking at you in content, his heart is so content because of the feeling you you becoming his. Tomorrow will be a good day.

[dreamii-yume]

Since we know that canonically Rook is indeed a stalker.(and has the pics to prove it) Do you think he would watch his Darling...........*cough* masturbate? *cough*

The way your form looks from afar, writhing on your bed as your fingers busies themselves by playing with your own cunt is simply a marvelous sight to take in! A naughty girl, not even bothering to close the curtains, practically asking him to gawk at you. Rook is not complaining nevertheless, even if the sheets were closed, he’d still find ways to take in your beauty especially at this state. Like he always do. Still, to think that this’ll be the gift that he’ll have the pleasure of receiving from you, this could certainly be the best birthday he’d ever have!

Your face is flushed as a rose, eyes closed with tears dripping over your long eyelashes, and moans you try to hold back as you bit into your hitched up shirt. Aah, how blessed was he to be able to experience such precious moment? His ears could qualify for a great wonder, he can hear your luscious moans and groans, overwhelming with pleasure. It makes his own body feel all hot inside, most notably the squelching sound your little weeping hole makes every time you would bury your fingers deep inside. His pants tightened in anticipation but non, he must resist the torturous urge to touch himself, this fine show that you were giving is a masterpiece, truly something that will be considered a crime for merely blinking his eyes close.

...He can hear those too, you know? The names you’re calling out loud in such a seductive tone, hungry for just about anyone at this point. Rook heard his name once, which almost sent his instincts into overdrive, mistaking such lewd tone into a sweet melody. But alas, though he wishes that it was just his name that you were moaning out for, then came in the next names to replace his, all familiar in memory. Don’t worry, he doesn’t exactly dislike it at all, non, this...lascivious side of yours is also beauty in itself.

Then came in the final act of your performance, Rook’s favorite part as he could hear you getting louder and more agrressive to yourself. Your eyes rolling back with how rough you were being with your own pussy, all impure thoughts that have been running in your head must’ve been let loose. You were determine to abuse even your own just to bring yourself into a satisfying conclusion, that was the part that Rook loves about you the most, the dedication.

He bit his bottom lip in anticipation, his observant eyes eager to see what you will become from his point of view beyond your windows. Rook could feel his own cheeks heating up in pleasure, a chuckle escapes him as he realized that he was actually using his everything to resist the urge to just burst in inside your room, to finish your job long before you could. You were amazing, he thought, you weren’t aware of his presence and yet, you hold the ability to make him feel this way. To make him feel this...excited. It’s simply something that can’t be put into proper words.

Rook’s grip on a tree bark had gotten tighter the moment that he heard you let out a high pitched voice, signalling your inevitable climax. His breath hitched for a second as he saw you widened your hole to give way for your dazzling juices to be put on a display, it was like he was watching a work of art. Your body spasm at the intensity of your orgasm, fingers circling your little sensitive bud to motivate your body to let everything out. It was far too beautiful for Rook to see that he doesn’t feel all too worthy of seeing it, almost to the point of bringing him into tears.

What a performance, a beautiful representation of pureness and impureness merging as one. Rook gulped down his excitement as he finally found the will to move after a long time. With something as maginificent as that, how do you expect him to just walk away? He must pay your credits for a job well done, this new-found admiration and respect for someone shall not go unnoticed. It was beauty that Rook seeks in this world and without it, everything else is meaningless.

That’s why, he can’t just turn a blind eye into all of this. It was beauty that you have provided, therefore, allow him to give you his thanks.

You settled down after a few seconds, chest heaving up and down as you slowly pulled your fingers, slicked with your nectar out of your core. You winced at the remaining sensitivity that left you, mind feeling a little light-headed with what you just done. You felt dirty and satisfied at the same time, but didn’t really bring yourself to care any more than that. You were about to close your eyes, finally exhausted enough to call it a night when suddenly, you felt another pair of hands engulfing your own, it was colder than air.

“Non. I would prefer it if you shouldn’t fall asleep so quickly just yet, mon chére fleur.” You looked down with widened eyes to see the Vice Dorm Leader of Pomefiore himself, Rook Hunt on the edge of your bed, entertwining his fingers to your slick ones. “Your beauty can be compared to the fairest one of all, but you still yet to declare your role as a princess.”

It took you a while to actually react, gasping immediately and was about to scream loud when Rook pulled you so abruptly. He was quick to slam his lips over yours, enough to silence you with shock. The kiss was for Rook himself to indulge in, savoring your taste until the very end as he pulled away to see your adorable reactions. “Pardon...I didn’t mean to startle you like this, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He was lying, to see you this shock and speechless was something Rook had definitely intended. “I was just so captivated by the show you put on for me that I need to personally pay you my respects.”

“Eh...?” You barely croaked out, still trying to process where this man came out. You didn’t even hear any door or window creak open in this battered dorm, let alone the sounds of his footsteps! His presence had been completely erased until he took hold of your hand too, just what was going on here!? However, Rook could only smirk at your bewilderment, bringing your hand close to his lips, the same hands that you used to play yourself with. You quickly heated up in embarrassment and tried to pull yourself away but he kept a gentle yet strong grip, further increasing your panic as he went and lick your fingers one by one. “Eek...! No, d-don’t do that...!”

“Mm, délicieux...You taste as fine as I imagined you to be...!” Rook moaned out, leaning closer as you could only stare at the lovesick expression in his eyes with anxiousness. You flinched as he brought your hand down this time, your breath hitching up as he stopped dangerously close to that concerning bulge on his pants. Your eyes shifts between his face and your hand, not really sure if what he wants is what you think he wants.

“Aah...Can you feel it? My excitement?” You gulped, cold sweat dripping down your forehead rather ominously, but it only encouraged Rook’s smile to widen. He leaned towards your ear, his voice soft yet hypnotizing, irking you to do something that you were sure you’ll never forgive yourself for. “It’s calling out for you, mon chére.”

“This may be what you call ‘audience participation’ of some sort?” Rook chuckled as he began unzip his pants. When he saw how pale you look, that cold sweat was basically glistening against your skin, he pulled out an expression that resembles a puppy. Something that he knew would definitely tug on your heartstrings. “I know it’s a bit sudden and I dread of the thought of making you feel this way, but would you forgive me just this once?

Now, he was using guilt against you. He’s good at acting and is putting out a really convincing act and maybe if you weren’t aware of how he really is, you could’ve believed him. Still, it’s scary to think that it’s somehow working, despite knowing that it’s all an act. “In a few hours, my special day would be over and I have yet to wait another year for the next.” He was right, though it was an act, what he was saying was true. Maybe that was the fact that was working out for you. “Therefore, don’t you think we’d be allowed to sin just this once?”

Then, comes back his smirk, simultaneously startling you as he pulled you quite roughly, disrupting your balance. Coincidentally, or deliberately perhaps, your face landed between his legs. You widened your eyes as he got his cock out, standing tall and inches away from your face which froze you on the spot. Your breath hitched as you realized how unexpectedly huge he was, it wasn’t just in your angle either, you don’t think he was going to fit in any of your holes without hurting like hell.

“...After all...” You squeaked as you felt his hand on your bare ass, snaking it’s way to your cunt, still wet from earlier. “You, yourself was committing such an act too from earlier, weren’t you? So naughty, even moaning out other guys’ name despite not even being your special day.”

You flushed red at what he said, embarrassed that he even documented what you have said and done before. It was adorable in Rook’s eyes, earning you another chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at all. It was still a good show regardless. Though this time, would it be too much if I were to be the only one in your mind tonight?” He guided your hands towards his erection, moaning slightly as you clasped your fingers around him. “Aah~ Trés bien...! Just your soft fingers alone is enough to send pleasure through my system! Boutén!” He moaned as you glanced up at him with confused and slightly disturbed eyes, wondering how easily sensitive he was.

Still, you felt his fingers moved to play with your folds, startling you to move in your spot, grasping his cock tight. Rook chuckled as he looked down at you, feeling as if he just discovered a new function in a toy. You, however, couldn’t help but close your eyes in embarrassment, glancing slightly at your senior, who was eagerly waiting for your next move. His fingers had barely entered your pussy, and somehow, that alone felt better than how you did in your own. You can’t help but be frustrated, he was definitely using your own pleasure to use against his own, a reward system of some sort.

You give out a breathy sigh, finally sucking up your pride and going closer to his dick. His words from earlier carried a point. For now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to entertain him for a while.

...Or whatever that means.

It’s surprisingly really fun to write for Rook since he’s already like...lowkey yandere in the game lol Aah, I just wish we know more things about him! ( ；∀；) He’s really careful to not reveal anything about his past lol

[nightshadedawn]

Writing prompts!!

Select one of the prompts and a ship and I'll write 300 words for it! I'll keep this open for a week!

Prompts are broken up into categories and further numbered within those categories to help everyone quickly find prompts, so please either give me the category and number of prompt or the prompt itself.

Fuck

"Fuck you." "You know what, [name], I've been trying but you haven't been cooperating." "What."

"I don't hate you." "You bought an entire fucking island to avoid me so we wouldn't be roommates our second year of college." "It obviously didn't work out well because we still ended up in Art History together."

"I'm fucked, I'm screwed. I'm gonna faaaaiillll."

"Well, fuck me and leave me to bleed."

"You're crazy." "Yeah, I'm fucking insane!"

"I have fucking questions!"

"You sir- are fucking hilarious."

"I love you but you're a fucking idiot."

"Love- fuck off."

"I'm cute as all fuck, but I'm an asshole if you piss me off."

"Insomnia's a real fucker, you know?"

"Fuck it- just- breathe! Breathe, damnit!"

"You and your bisexual ass can get the fuck out of here."

"Let's fuck the world over, 'cause that's all we're good for."

"Fuck it. We're not done yet."

"Occasionally I tell people to go fuck themselves just to mess with their puny lives."

"I didn't want anyone else. Fuck it, I just wanted YOU."

"You're a fucking bisexual disaster. Don't at me, brah."

"I'm just a sad, mostly human being that doesn't know what they're doing with their life." "Only mostly?" "Granny honestly got it on so who knows what the fuck Mom is."

"I don't mind if you call me a freak, just don't say it to my face. That's really rather rude." "You're a fucking idiot." "Yes, I've been told."

"I'm DONE! I'm done acting happy, I'm done pretending to be okay, I'm DONE playing this game. I am so. Fucking. DONE. With shits like you! Don't ever come near me again."

"The only reason I kept fighting was because of the people I cared about! And you took them all away from me! I'm not done fighting yet! I'm not done fucking fighting until your body is rotting in the fucking ground!"

"Giving a fuck what other people think about you is like giving them control of your life."

"Please don't pretend to give a fuck about me. I know better now."

"They said I can't." "Well, fuck 'em." "What?" "You're not weak. It's your life. Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Which is to say I don't. I can't. I'm weak as all fuck."

"I'm as cute as a cucumber. Wait, fuck, that's a kiwi."

Shit

"When you're a sarcastic piece of shit but people keep falling in love with you anyway."

"My sister is a huge piece of shit." "Awe, that's not nice. What'd the shit ever do to you?"

"Shit aside, this isn't the worst plan put into motion."

"Literally no one cares about that shit."

"I'm not a bitch, I'm an asshole. Guys still want to screw me even if all I spew is shit."

"Congratulations! You're in deep shit."

"You've shown great aptitude for bullshitting."

"Shit... I don't... I don't know why I'm crying... Just please don't leave me alone..." "Never."

"I'm one of those people that people regularly tell me not to do stupid shit and I do it anyway."

"I've lived my life watching through windows. I'm ready to go break shit now."

"I promise, I'm okay."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to deal with this shit!"

"Hey, I'm kinda feeling like shit tonight. You think you could... come cuddle me?"

"I don't see myself as someone who breaks promises, spills secrets, or tells lies. I'm not a great person like that statement would suggest. I just don't talk to people enough, and when I do, I don't give enough of a shit to care."

Asshole

"'Cause sometimes, people are just assholes no one else cares about."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to-" "Now why don't I believe you?" "Because I'm an arrogant prick and an asshole." "At least you're aware of your short comings."

"No, I'm not getting high off lemonade. What are you drinking, bitch?"

"If you're not sucking cock for the fun of it, I don't know what you're doing with your life."

"Ten out of ten. Would bang again." "Please stop." "Love you, babe."

Forget

"I haven't quite forgiven you for that." "No, I don't expect you did."

"The most unforgettable stories are also the most unbelievable, don't you know?"

"I don't need you to hold me like it's okay to forget. I need you to hold me like it's okay to remember, to hold on, and then to let go."

"Sometimes people forget... I'm not normal."

"The world is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing place. That's why it doesn't matter if in thirty years, no one remembers us."

"I want you to remember what it felt like to fight against me."

"Do you remember what it was like when we were young and alright?"

"Do you remember what I promised? That we'd always be together. I don't break promises. Not to anyone, but never to you. As long as you'll have me, I'll be right here. So please, let me stay."

"I want you to remember this feeling; it will follow you all your life."

"Why don't you remember ANYTHING I said!?"

Pain

"Don't you ever wish we could ever be something different? Like, I don't know. Something less hellish?" "I don't know. Sometimes I welcome the pain."

"I just get so restless, and I can't stop moving, and when I have to sit down and focus... it's really hard because I just want to be up. It's genuinely painful when it strikes in the middle of class or something."

"Pain is what made me human."

"You don't understand all the pain we went through to get where we are now."

"I will break, I will burn, but I will not let you hurt me."

"Listen to me and this broken heart of mine."

"It's not your fault you've been hurt before."

"I don't enjoy hurting people." "Could'a fooled me."

"Does it hurt?" "Always."

“It’s not me you have to worry about killing you if you hurt our daughter, it’s my wife.” “Oh, honey, you know me so well.”

"I knew from the beginning I'd never be able to hurt you."

"I shouldn't care. Caring only hurts."

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they shut themselves away. They push away people and the things that hurt them. But I think it's more interesting when they fight back. Revenge is a bitter tale, but it's a more interesting story told."

"I don't want to fall in love. Falling means you get hurt. I want to grow. I want to grow to love someone, see them at their smallest and grow into their mightiest. I want to grow to love, because when something grows, it never stops growing."

"My head feels heavy and my heart just hurts."

"Don't stress the small stuff. It only makes your brain hurt."

"In the end, we were made of blood that could be spilt and bones that could be broken."

"'Broken,' he'd promised. And 'broken' he'd become."

Death

"I have been scared of many things. Surprisingly, my death has never been one of them."

"They're both very strong willed, bull headed, "death to all those who defy me" kind of people."

"Even the bravest close their eyes when facing Death."

"Death seems like the best option right now." "No. No, it does not."

"Touch my phone and you accept Death as your new best friend."

"You tend to just find death everywhere you go. Isn't that a problem?"

"Death is not a good look on you, honey."

"I've got about a hundred years worth of death on my hands and isn't that great?"

"Death comes to all those who wait for it."

"Murder, death, and mayhem are my favorite things to write about."

"You are an angel of death by association. This is your duty."

"I hope you've got some kind of special armor under that dress, 'cause with the way you're surrounded, if you don't, you're gonna die."

"We're gonna die." "That's the plan."

"How many times must she die before you're satisfied?!"

"This time, I'm not letting you die for me."

"Someone's gonna die tonight, but it ain't gonna be me."

"Fine. I'll let you die. I'll just have to bring you back to life."

"But why'd you have to die?"

"If I die, it's officially Your Fault."

"Welp. time to die again,"

"No! No! You don't get to die! You don't get to die and leave me alone!"

"Don't ask me that! Don't do that!" "Why?" "Because everyone knows that when you talk about the future right before a big battle, you're gonna die!"

"When it comes down to it, I want you to make sure I die."

"How did you save them?" "Easy- I died."

"I would live and die for you, but I'd never kill."

"We are not gods. But I shall die like one anyway."

"There was a time when I swear I was just waiting to die."

"I'd rather destroy myself than let her die for me."

"The truth is- I'm just tired of watching you die."

"I've died so many times, and I'm still falling for you."

"I am so done with children." "You have nine." "And I would die for each and every one of them."

"It's a miracle in itself that you haven't died yet."

"The explosion killed thousands. How are you alive?"

"You bother me." "I can't imagine why." "Surely it has nothing to do with the fact you've killed hundreds of people including my family. That couldn't possibly be it."

"I trust you, but the question is, do you trust me?" "I trust you not to get yourself killed." "I think you might be asking a little too much."

"How are you going to tell your sister you killed her best friend?" "I'm not." "That's no way to start a relationship."

"You are legit trying to kill me." "Oh darling, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't be trying. You'd be dead already."

"I'm pretty sure I killed someone. But then again, I could be wrong."

"I'm going to kill someone." "Oh dear god, please be me."

"Ohhhhh, my sister's gonna kill me for this one."

"One time my sister tried to tell me I wasn't right. Valid, I wasn't. But I still tried to kill her anyway."

"Do what you will. But don't come crying to me if it kills you."

"Oh god, just kill me now." "As you wish."

"The next time somebody tries to kill, me, I'm gonna scream." "I should hope so?"

"This child threatened to kill me." "She threatened to burn the entire city to the ground. I don't see what your point is."

"We are all dead and it’s your fault!"

"Oh look. The sun is shining, nobody is dead- today's gonna be a good day."

"I swore I wouldn't do it again. But here I am. Wishing all of them dead."

"I guess being dead wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to erase me from history too."

"Who even knows if we'll be alive tomorrow?"

"What story did they tell you?" "That'd I'd never make it out alive."

"And if I refuse?" "Well, *chuckle* don't suppose you'll get out of this alive."

"You just need to survive."

"The world is a cruel, unfair place. But it's the one we live in, so we gotta do what we can to survive."

"You've done your best to destroy me, but I survived all along."

"I survive because there is nothing else I could do."

"The world didn't want me. But I survived anyway."

"I think I'm more surprised that you're telling me this than the fact that you survived it."

"We exist in this time and place. This isn't the end."

"You hide it in the corners of your mind like it doesn't exist."

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. A regular, ordinary type of girl. The kind of girl... that no longer exists."

"In any other world, we would not exist."

"Hell exists in ways you don't expect it to."

"I exist in your eyes, but not in your life."

"You weren't supposed to exist."

"I suppose that magic exists. In some way or another."

"Time is inconsequential. Unreal. It doesn't exist. All that exists is the here and now."

"The world only exists the way we want it to."

"The world need not know you exist. More importantly, the world need not know you exist as you do."

"Who's dying this time?"

"I've existed long enough to know this is a very bad idea."

"We only sort of exis

"There's something beautiful in the way you look at the world like nothing else exists."

"We exist to be tempered into impossible weapons."

"I am aware of worlds and things that should not exist."

"The difference you have to learn about the past and future is that the future gives us a reason to keep living... the past only exists to hold us back."

"You are the bane of my existence." "I'm the bane of existence in general."

"How many times have I thought about dying? Too many."

My entire life you've made me cry. All you're doing now is making me cry again.

"My room's a mess. Kinda like my life. But nobody's complaining about that."

"My life was wonderful. But it was better without you in it."

When life gives ya lemons, we find someone who has vodka and makes martinis.

"She's living her life in monochrome."

"There are some things in life that just get you down. And then there's her."

"I've been wrong all my life. This is just another instance, isn't it?

"Home is not a place. It's a feeling. Feeling of contentment, life, respect, safety. That is home."

"I live off of two things: spite and validation. I live to spite those who say I can't, but I need validation from those who say I can."

"Please don't live for tomorrow. Live for today."

"My favorite kind of people are the ones who live for themselves, and not for anyone else."

I knew we'd live forever.

"There's not enough time on Earth to see everything. We could go back a billion years and live every moment up to now, and even then we wouldn't see everything." "Nah. But with you, I'd like to try. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side."

[justthehiddleswrites]

Tables Turned | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  You are nervous for Tom’s interview with Graham Norton. But when Graham decides to have Tom read some fan fiction, you know the tables have turned.

Warnings: none

-

You had been fidgeting since Tom had left the green room to take the stage for his interview. This interview was different.  Graham Norton had put Tom in uncomfortable situations more than once and even though Tom was a consummate professional. It didn’t make you any less protective of him.

“So… welcome back, Tom,” Graham greeted in his usual tone.

“It’s good to be back,” Tom responded, smiling.

“You’ve been busy since the last time. More movies, a great run in Jamie Lloyd’s Betrayal, and now Round 2 of The Night Manager.”

Tom blushed and laughed.

“It has been a busy several years. I have been very lucky to work in projects I love.”

Graham’s eye sparkled. Tom realized he had walked into something he did not expect.

“Speaking of love…”

Tom looked down and shuffled his feet as he unbuttoned his jacket, preparing himself for the inevitable question.

“… you have been dating for someone for quite a while.”

“Three years in April, Graham. I couldn’t be happier.”

“And how does she feel about your… how would say… enthusiastic fanbase?”

You were in the back, cringing. You jumped off the couch and paced again, spinning your ring, a habit you never broke. Tom prepared for this question and the two of you had discussed the answer. It didn’t make you any less nervous.

Tom cleared his throat before answering.

“She is a fan herself. She is completely supportive.”

Tom smiled and you could hear the “awws” and screams rippling through the audience. Graham would let it go, so he went in for the kill.

“Even the fan fiction?” Graham raised an eye.

Tom blushed.

“I’m not sure I understand what you are getting,” Tom lied, knowing what Graham was insinuating.

“There are some interesting stories out there. Particularly these stories where you are in a relationship with the reader? How about we read some of this summaries out loud?”

And there it was. Graham handed Tom some cards. Tom was laughing.

“This one is by lokisgirl1798. You are visiting London for the first time when your purse is stolen with all your money and credit cards. Now wandering in a foreign city with no money, you bump into a handsome stranger. It turns out to be actor Tom Hiddleston. In an act of chivalry, Tom takes you to his place to call the police and collect your wits. But what will happen behind closed doors?” Tom read the description out loud.

As you stared through your fingers during Tom’s recitation, you grinned. Tom had this.

“So what do you think, Tom?” Graham looked at Tom.

“Actually, Graham, I read this one the other day. The writing was superb and considering the writer’s first language is not English, they did an amazing job Brit-picking. I mean they used the words ‘mobile’ and ‘telly’ and ‘loo,’ so it impressed me.”

Graham’s mouth fell open.

“Shall I continue?” Tom asked, blinking at the host.

Graham motioned to carry on.

“This one is from hiddlesforprez. Oh this one was sounds fun. You meet up with your old childhood friend, Tom Hiddleston, as he is filming the latest Avengers movie. You harbored a secret crush on Tom and unbeknownst to you, so has Tom. When Tom arrives to his trailer in full Loki costume, you cannot keep your feelings or hands to yourself.”

You giggled out loud backstage. This could not be going any better.

“Would you like my thoughts, Graham?” Tom deadpanned.

“Of course.” Graham sputtered out, not sure what’s happening.

“This one I have read as well. I love the interplay between RPF, that is real person fiction, and the MCU fandom in this one, but that is just my taste. The metaphors are on point. And while it takes getting used to, I found the smut portion to be well researched and the language… well… eloquent.”

Now you were blushing as much as Tom.

“That is an excellent point… why don’t we…” Graham stuttered, reaching for the card. Tom snatches it away.

“Ooooh, there is one more.” Tom read the card and his face lit up. He looks up at the camera and winks. “I know of someone in particular who will love this one!”

“This one is written by Y/user name and it is an angst fic. Tom and the reader have been dating for a few months and they have their first big fight. They exchange angry words and slammed doors. After several weeks with no apologies or phone calls, you go out with a friend to drown your sorrows. Who should you run into but Tom, and it appears he is on a date? Can this relationship be repaired or is too far gone?”

Tom laughed at the end of reading this, just like he always does when he reads the summaries.

“So may I critique?” Tom asked Graham.

“By all means.” Graham has been sinking lower into his chair.

“Well, this fic is interesting because my fiancé wrote it.” The audience gasps and so do you. That was not part of the plan. “She always has me beta read for her. And while she wrote this not long after our first fight, she changed the facts to protect the guilty.”

Graham about fell off his chair at Tom’s response. Tom and you had only gotten engaged a month ago. Both of you agreed to make not an official announcement until after the press junket.

“Well, that’s all the time we have today. Thanks, Tom.”

Once the cameras turned off, Tom headed to the green room. He swept you up into an embrace and kissed you.

“You were wonderful, honey,” you told Tom when the two of you broke from the embrace.

“Thank you. You are aware none of it will ever make it to air.”

“I know, but maybe he will think twice before using fan fiction as the punch line to a joke.”

“I hope so too. Now why don’t I take you home and you can write about what happened today.”

You gave Tom a playful punch to the chest, and he laughed as he pulled you in close to his side, arm around your waist. Just as the two of you reached the door, it opened and Graham walked in.

“Tom.”

“Graham, have you met my fiancé?”

You smiled and offered your hand. Graham gave a firm handshake, but you noted he avoided eye contact.

“Great writing.”

“Thanks,” you responded with a smirk, “but it is average. You should read things on Tumblr. That is where the great stuff is.”

“I agree, darling,” Tom piped up, placing a kiss on your temple, “next time you want to read fics on the air, Graham, call us and we can give you some recommendations.”

Graham mumbled something unintelligible, but you were certain it was not an apology. Tom and you left the room and headed to the car to take you home. When the episode aired, they cut the entire fan fiction segment. You were disappointed but knew it was likely to happen. But Tom was amazing just the same. You also noticed since Tom’s appearance, fan art and fan fiction and other fan interactions almost never came up again.

[the-wales-5]

"Sketch"

(Written by: @ thewales_memes on instagram) ♡

2002. University of St. Andrews, Scotland.

Catherine Elizabeth Middleton shivered as late September's cold wind blew away.

She was sitting on the edge of a hill behind her residence, St. Salvator's Hall. She could see a whole picture of St. Andrews from here that she was trying to capture on her sketchbook. The view was so beautiful in the late afternoon that day. 

Catherine sighed with satisfaction as she looked at the view and then at her sketch. She did it only with three shades of pencil and she felt quite proud of her drawing. A little smile appeared on her lips as she held the drawing in front of her.

"That's amazing!' a deep voice said quietly behind her that made her startle so hard and she was almost about to fall but a gentle hand quickly grabbed her arm.

"William.. What was that?" she asked, being a bit embarrassed. 

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you like this-William sat down next to her: 'Are you alright?"

"Yeah.. it's okay" she said and smiled a little, but a second later, she panicked: 'My sketchbook?!" she almost screamed, looking around herself. 

William touched her knee with assurance, "Calm down, I caught it too" he said and smiled and then gave the sketchbook to her. Catherine sighed in relief before taking her sketchbook. She was again looking at her sketch, with all the concentration that she didn't notice a pair of deep blue eyes were looking at her with all the love and pride for her in them!

"Shall I tell her about my feelings?'" William thought and sighed, still looking at her.

'No... ' - he said to himself and then looked at her drawing that made him fall in love with her even more.

"This is the most beautiful sketch I've ever seen" he whispered. 

Catherine looked at him and then giggled "It's getting too much now, William"

"What?"

"Your words. Like "It is really really amazing, Kate". You're not an admirer of art"

"Yes, you're right. I am not an admirer of art but if it seems very beautiful to me then think how beautiful it actually is to someone who understands art" William said and took the sketchbook from her to have a better look at it.

"Thank you" Catherine said and smiled shyly. 

"How did you do it?" illiam asked with absolute surprise. 

"It's not that good" Catherine said and blushed a bit.

"I don't know how many times I have to say it but I swear, this is certainly an amazing sketch" William said.

Catherine looked into his eyes and she knew he didn't lie a single word.

And why would he? She knew this man for over a year now, and he never lied about anything to her. She could read his mind just by looking at his eyes. But she didn't know one thing about him, only one thing - a deep dark wound in his heart that he hid from everyone and held his charming smile. Catherine didn't know how she could feel this, but she knew it was true.

"Can I have it?' William asked suddenly and Catherine startled again.

"What?" She asked as she didn't understand what he really asked for.

'Can I have this sketch?" The prince asked again and smiled. 

"You want to have this?" She asked with confusion. 

He nodded. "Yes, only if you agree to give it to me"

"What will you do with this?" Middleton asked and giggled a little. 

"Nothing, I'll just keep it"

"And will you remember me with this when our university years will be over?" Kate asked. She didn't know what she was really saying. 

William looked at her. "I won't have to remember you with this. Because you'll be with me for years to come! " He whispered and tucked a lock of her beautiful brown hair behind her ear that was scattering on her face. He touched her cheek, pulled his face closer to hers, and closed his eyes...

Catherine cleared her throat.

William stopped and pulled back immediately. He felt totally embarrassed.  "FUCK!' he cursed in his thoughts 'God knows what she thinks about me now!'.

"You can have this sketch" Catherine said quietly. She took the sketchbook from his lap and gently torn that page "Here" she said as giving it to him with a smile on her face: "Keep it safe, will you?"

"Until the end of the world!" William replied and smiled too.

Catherine gave him a little kiss on cheek before she left in a rush...

~~~~~

2021. Kensington Palace, Kensington, England.

-William... Are you here?

Catherine asked as entering into an old room of their apartment. It was a small and personal room of William. He sometimes comes here when he wants to be alone. He was here in this room now, which made Catherine anxious. They just came back from Scotland the previous day and everything was so joyful between them. Nothing had happened that would make William stay in this room alone. He was sitting on an old trunk. He lifted his head up and looked at his wife with his happiest smile. Catherine sighed in relief and approached him.

"I've been looking for you in the whole house for almost an hour now"

William held her hand and made her sit next to him. "I'm sorry but I forgot about the time after finding this 19 years later.." William said and put a piece of paper on his wife's lap "This" he whispered. 

Catherine looked at the paper and trembled.

"Oh my God.. " she whispered and looked at her husband and then at the paper again. 

An amazing view of St. Andrews before sunset on an Autumn day that she captured on her sketchbook in 2002. She got tears from looking at it. William caressed her back "It still seems as beautiful as the first time I saw it" he said and smiled lovingly as looking into her eyes.

Catherine smiled too through her happy tears "I thought it got lost after all these years" she quickly wiped a drop of tear from her lashes.

"How would it be lost, my wife? I promised you that I would keep it safe when you gave it to me that evening" he said quietly and looked at the sketch. "It was something very special from the woman I love.. I would never let it be lost"

Catherine got tears again but her smile was still there.

"Remember when I asked you if you would remember me with this sketch, and you replied that I would be with you for years to come!" Catherine giggled a little "How did you know that?"

William chuckled softly "Perhaps something told me I could never let you go.." he whispered and smiled. 

Catherine smiled too as looking into his eyes. 

Sweet spring wind through the window made her hair a mess. Her husband gently ran his fingers through them. He caressed her cheek and pulled her face closer as closing his eyes.

"Don't pull back this time!" Catherine whispered. William was startled and looked at her. 

She smirked before their lips met in a passionate kiss, silently promising each other forever. Forever of miles to go together through tears and laughter..

/ the end /

[thecaptainhelm]

Shut Your Mouth Pt.2

hahaha, daminette part two, wasn’t a one shot, gn gn gn.

Marinette sighed as the shower warmed up, rolling her neck and relishing in the light feeling of accomplishment. Ever since Hawkmoth had been defeated, a mere two days ago, things had been tense. Hawkmoth, now known as Gabriel Agreste, was arrested along with his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur who had since retired as Mayura the year before. It was a stroke of luck to discover that the Guardian had the ability to forcibly renounce a broken Miraculous. Something Gabriel hadn’t known, granting them extra time as he futilely tried to ‘fix’ the brooch. While that happened, she managed to finally convince Chat to at least keep him as a suspect if not out of suspicion, then to actually strike him from their list. It didn’t take long rack up evidence against him, especially after learning from the Bats of Gotham. 

The battle was quiet, in the early hours of the morning, where the city forcibly cut the power to the Agreste mansion, and it only took one Venom for each while they slept defenselessly. It took only a few minutes to find evidence that he was at least working with Hawkmoth, and when they found the miraculous pin and brooch, it was confirmed that he was, indeed, Hawkmoth with Nathalie working as his henchwoman Mayura.

Soon, with what was probably the fastest trial of the century, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur were declared guilty and sentenced to serve life in prison and an insane asylum respectively. It had only shocked her for a moment that Mayura pleaded guilty and asked to be sent directly to rehab for mental help, by reason of insanity wrought by grief. What did surprise her was that she was the one to take the miraculous and give them to the Agreste couple as an anniversary gift, ultimately setting off a chain of unforeseen consequences.

That was a whole other cake she didn’t want to bake just yet, so she decided to finally just take a moment to breathe for what felt like the first time in five years. 

So it was only normal that her smartwatch chimed on the hook of the shower caddy, a picture of a frowny eagle glaring right at her. She cursed her luck, yeah, no breaks was still her usual routine. It must be real hard for the universe to break out that particular habit.

Then she remembered that she set this particular picture and ringtone for the one person who had never called.

Robin, the vigilante that she might have, kind of, definitely made an enemy of.

Who was also her crush, so that was just. Great.

In her defense, she was a human being, and human beings were capable of amazing feats. It was just that her amazing feats were more amazing bouts of stupidity. Seriously, why did she do it? Just where did her common sense escape to make her think that was even a remotely good idea, because she wanted to go there and never come back.

She had kissed-- no! She made out with Robin, the most notoriously ill-tempered member of Batman’s team. The only reason he didn’t deck her in the face was because, because, well she didn’t know! Was it mercy, a misplaced feeling of pity, perhaps?

No, actually, it was more likely that he was frozen stiff with rage. Marinette couldn’t blame him, heck, she’d be angry too, suddenly getting passionately smooched in the middle of livid rant. 

She had planned on giving him her contact information for the longest time, since they'd come to the understanding that they only wanted to do what was best for everyone, the kind of understanding that only leaders could have. And to maybe get closer to him as much as professionalism allowed. So, it stood to reason that she had to go ahead and ruin that, too. She really couldn’t believe herself sometimes, who randomly kisses someone, hands them their number, and then trots off back to work? Marinette Dupain-Cheng apparently.

In fact, it was about time he called. She had pretty much an entire year to prepare herself for what was sure to be a concise and frigid rejection, maybe even a “Stay for away from, lest I stab everyone in this room and then jump out of a window out of utter disgust”? She might as well get it over with and then move on to be alone for the rest of her life.

She wiped the water out of her eyes and squinted at the text message, before jumping out the shower with a loud curse. She hurriedly dried off and put on her clothes, before heading to the Miracle Box, rereading his message.

Emergency evac, one person, requesting Pegasus’ portal twenty kilometers horizontally above sea level precisely fifteen minutes after this message. Coordinates attached.

The message was sent ten minutes ago. How long was she catastrophizing for?!

Max was partying along with the rest of Paris while she took a breather in her art studio. Even with the full fifteen minutes she wouldn’t be able to find him in time. Shit, would she even be able to transform in time?

She grabbed the glasses from the box and Kaalki appeared in a proud flash. 

“No time, there’s trouble,” she panted. “Ready?”

“Hmph, of course,” Kaalki tossed her head. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“Kaalki, transform me!” She eyed the time, two minutes left. She memorized the coordinates as she searched for a suitable place for him to land, and realized she was going to have to catch him in her storage closet.

One minute left. She opened the door and cleared space in the center of the room.

Thirty-five seconds. She stood on an old chair that she moved into the center of the room.

Twenty seconds, and she called, “Voyage!” and threw the portal up towards the ceiling.

Zero. She braced for impact and caught a body that plummeted through in a free fall.

“Ow,” she closed the portal with a groan, amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be a pretty sturdy chair.

“Don’t complain, it could have been worse.” A deep voice rasped.

Wow, to think she missed him, that asshole.

“Shut up, Robi-- oh my god your arm! Get up, getupgetupgetup!” She hauled him up as gently as possible, annoyance giving way to concern.

Robin was, putting it lightly, a mess. He had lost his mask, his eye was swollen shut and his face was bruised with cuts all over, and he was sticky with blood practically everywhere she looked. It was his arm that she was most concerned about, however. It was set in a splint, but he must have been in a rush because it was set wrong, his thumb facing perpendicular lyaway from his body.

“I am fine,” he sagged into her, weary. “I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“If you weren’t so grievously injured, I’d throw you out for that,” she remarked. “But guess what? It’s your lucky night monsieur, and I’m a trained field medic.” Robin looked at her, maskless, and she had to dart her eyes away from his maskless face.

“Oh, so Ladybug finally started replacing her subpar lineup? About time, either she benched them or Hawkmoth would kill them at some point. They were woefully incompent.” Yep, this was definitely Robin, no doubt about it with that attitude.

She called off the transformation and was somewhat pleased when he reflexively jerked his head away. She pulled him into a princess carry and made her way back to the bathroom, inwardly delighting at his reaction. She would never let him live this down.

“It’s me, Robin. Ladybug. Pegasus couldn’t make it, so you’ll have to do with me instead of a random stand-in.” She raised her brow, not that he could see it.

“Unless that bothers you, Boy Wonder?”

“...I’m not,” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“I’m not Robin anymore.”

What. What.

“What?”

“I’ve retired, effective as of nine months ago today, Robin’s cape has been hung up for the next generation.”

Relief didn’t come yet. “Oh, so you’ve taken on a new mantle? Or are you finally the next Batman, though it would take some time to fill those shoulders. Literally, I mean that literally, um.” She observed his downcast expression and once again started walking to the bathroom. When had she stopped?

“I’m not taking over anything,” he said sullenly. “I can’t. Not after what I did.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been so bad,” she opened the door with her heel as she backed them towards the stool by the sink. She set him down carefully, taking full stock of his injuries.

“It was. Batman’s cowl has always represented a strict moral code, one that I’ve always...struggled to adhere to.”

Marinette bit her lip as she kneeled in front of him. He didn’t say anymore, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She sighed and brought out her med kit from the towel cabinet. She was always like this with him.

With Robin (now not Robin?) she had always drawn a blank. She could read his emotions somewhat well, had a good grasp on his moods, and could have genuinely insightful conversations with him. It was only at crucial moments like this that she struggled. Even with Adrien she had always known what she wanted to say, but Robin was different. Everything about him screamed “one chance only” and that caused her mind to go blank. It was so unbelievably frustrating that she could scream.

Marinette handed the glasses to Kaalki and nodded towards her purse hanging on the door handle. The kwami zoomed towards it and soon disappeared into it with the miraculous.

“Robin,” she called gently. He didn’t move. “I’ll have to cut your shirt off, okay? I need to see where the blood is coming from.”

“It’s not mine.The blood.” He kept his gaze away as she froze.

“Well, we’ll have to reset that arm,” she tried again. “It’s not...it’s not looking good, to say the least.”

He looked towards his mangled right arm and nodded. 

It took some time to undo the splint and she tried not to think about where he had been for him to only have rotted wood and prison rags on hand. She cut his shirt off at the sleeve and down his middle, pulling it off and exposing a painful canvas of mottled bruises, scrapes, and cuts. She handed him her towel and he stuffed it in his mouth without a word. She gently untied the splint.

“Are you ready?” She gazed at him resolutely. He nodded and braced himself as best he could.

“On my count, one, two--” She re-broke his arm a count early on purpose.

“Arrghh! Ffuk!!” He jerked out of her grip.

“Hold still!” He spat out the towel and glared in response.

“Mizq dhiraei allaeaynat 'aw aidbitha!!!” She only understood ‘rip’ and ‘arm’ but she got the gist of his screaming.

“Alright it’s done now, I’m setting it, so stop moving,” She couldn’t help but sigh under his vicious scowl.

“Tsk. Be grateful that I can barely discern your features Ladybug. You’re on my shit list and I don’t feel like kicking your ass today.”

“Wow, thanks for saving me Ladybug, I could have died if it weren’t for you!” Marinette couldn’t help but snark at him.

“...tsk!” Yep, that was as good as she was going to get in his condition.

After years of fighting akuma victims she was able to observe the complex and hidden emotions of her opponents and the civilians that she rescued. And right now, her experience was telling her that Robin had more than his pride ruined. His self-confident, courageous, and taciturn nature seemed to be regressing as he fell back into what was probably a self-defense mechanism. For him to be like this instead of exhausted in his current state told her that he must have been through a lot since she last saw him.

She started to gently clean the blood off and noted the bruises underneath definitely came from an intense melee battle. Most of them were in places that made her cringe just looking at them. At least he doesn’t have any other broken bones, or stab wounds. Lucky him.

Robin put an ice pack to his face in the meanwhile and wouldn’t look in her direction.

It was quiet for a while. “So, what should I call you, then?” And she had to open her big fat mouth, didn’t she? Now it was awkward. It was awkward, and he hated her, and she was never speaking again, ever.

“Damian.” Uh oh.That didn’t sound like a moniker.

“Um, nice code name?” She started disinfecting his cuts and scrapes, trying not to panic.

“I no longer require such aliases.” Ok, process that later, heal Robin now. Process. Later.

“Ro--, Damian, uh, well,” She sighed.  “My offer still stands, you know?”

He made a quiet noise. 

“Last time I saw you, I mean. I had left in a rush,”-- after kissing you senseless-- “but I’m always here to listen if you want to talk about what happened.”

Robin, or Damian now, she still wasn’t used to that, froze. His brows furrowed and he strangely went red in the face, before sighing, slumping against the sink.

“I...the blood’s not mine. It hasn’t been my for a long time, but it might as well be for how long I’ve carried it. I’m not a good person so much as to blame myself completely, but I do recognize some of the fault as mine. I’d gotten help, and I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough. I started falling back into old habits and I hated it. I tried and I failed, and I kept trying and failing for months and I…” He gained a look of despair, the first real emotion she’s seen on him since he dropped in.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I just kept disappointing everyone and I hated it so much,” he dug his fingers into his matted hair.

“So, I left. I decided to go on a journey to try and repent, and it was working, at least I thought it did. But, then I had stumbled upon a Shadows base and I…” He peered unseeing at the floor.

“It was like I lost all sense of reason. I lay siege to the entire facility and found my way to the next base. It all turned into an endless cycle, all the way until I reached headquarters and inadvertently met up with high ranking members of the Justice League, teaming up to diminish their power. We were successful, but a candidate for the position of the Demon’s Head activated the self-destruct module. Everyone was scrambling to get out and suddenly my mind felt clearer than it had ever been.” He took  a deep breath and Marinette moved closer to offer some comfort. He leaned towards her gratefully.

“The Justice League had already had an escape route, but the Shadows were in disarray for some reason. After I was sure my old comrades were out, I locked all the doors, and dived down to a ceremonial bathing chamber.”

“And that’s where I came in,” she whispered. I think I’m starting to like him more than I should. What is wrong with me?! Who made me this way?! She had some complaints in regards to that.

“You saved my life,” he inclined his head in an informal bow. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

“...Marinette.” She croaked suddenly. She was left reeling from his info dump and her intense, romantic feelings. So, why not go for a confession? 

Damian whipped his head up in disbelief.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Enchanté, Damian.” She smiled at his bewildered state, wiping away a bit of blood under his chin. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn’t get the chance.

Damian leapt up, furious. “You fool! I knew you were a space cadet, but I didn’t think your brain drifted beyond the stars! How utterly moronic!”

“Wait, why are you so mad?!” She panicked. She kind of had a spur of the moment idea to kiss him on his split lip, but that was looking less and less likely to happen.

(Damn it.)

“You told me your name!” he shouted.

“Yes, and you told me your’s?” She retorted. 

“Have you forgotten Hawkmoth?! Your enemy that can read the minds of the emotionally disturbed should he decide to possess them!” He started to hobble out of the bathroom, still half-treated and mostly in pain.

Oh. 

Oh!

“I have to leave, now! If I can stay calm long enough to reach the trains then I’ll be moving too fast for a butterfly to suddenly get me.”

“Uh, Damian?”

“No, it might already be enroute to someone else and might even already be on board,” He winced and stumbled on the tassel rug in the hallway.

“Woah, hang on a second Damian,” she grabbed him before he could fall, but he pulled out of her grip.

“We don’t have time for this, I can guarantee that I would be one of the worst akumas you’ve faced in your hero career, nevermind the insider information I hold within my mind.”

“Yes, but listen to me,” Damian moved towards the small sitting area, not listening to her. 

Again.

“This safehouse should be around one hundred kilometers from the city limits, you’re safe for now, but Hawkmoth’s estimated rate of growth was--”

That’s it!

Marinette grabbed his jaw and slammed it closed. She had had enough.

“This isn’t a safehouse, we’re in my art studio,” she snapped. She could see the rage begin to build to new heights in his eye.

“No, shut your mouth, and listen!” A vein in his forehead started to pulse, but he didn't move to speak.

Good.

“Hawkmoth has been defeated as of last week, and the trial was concluded a couple days ago. Going by what you told me, you've been out the loop for almost a year, so you don’t know that my team and I had closed in on Hawkmoth’s trail some time ago and were able to build a solid case that’ll go through in a court of law,” She carefully let him go.

“So, you’re safe, I’m safe, and Paris is safe too.” She’d already started to calm down in the middle of her explanation, and idly noted that she should probably take an anger management class.

And sign up for therapy. Lots of it, preferably.

Damian nodded slowly as he rubbed his jaw and she couldn’t help her wince.

“Sorry, did I handle you too roughly? Come here,” she started to pull him back towards the bathroom. He resisted.

“No, it’s fine, no damage just from that much force,” he tugged his arm away but she quickly moved behind him and began to push him through the bathroom door.

“Well, I’m not done treating you, so get back in there.” He grabbed the door frame and pushed back, and her calm demeanor left as quick as it came. Was it even truly there to begin with?

“I said,” she picked him up and threw him back on the stool where he grasped for stability.

“Come here.” She leaned in close to his bruised face, and wow, the one eye that she could see was so very, very green. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

“...okay,” he whispered. He kept his head down.

It didn’t take long to finish disinfecting the rest of his wounds, and soon she started applying ointment to the worst of his bruises. She had enough, but she was definitely going to be restocking in order to play his nursemaid for the next week or so. She rose to her feet and started packing away her kit.

“I’ll give you some pain meds for the night, I’ll leave you to take care of the injuries under the rest of your clothes. Come find me in the kitchenette. I’ll make something for us, though it won’t be anything fancy.”

“That is fine.” Marinette frowned at the strange husk in his voice. Did someone try to suffocate him? Why hadn’t she noticed until now?

She kneeled beside him and reached around him for the water bottle she had left in there earlier, but noticed him twitch and start to blush. Did he get a fever too?

She observed his red face and clear, but dilated eyes. Merde, did she embarrass him from earlier? She knew he had a large ego, but it was his own fault for being stubborn.

“Here, get yourself some water from the sink,” she handed the glittery black bottle to him and hurriedly strode out of the bathroom, calling,

“Holler if you need me!” 

Completely aware of the flustered state she left Damian in. Though not for the reason she thinks, at least.