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ttttaehyungie · 4 years

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sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 5

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, smut, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 5.2k

chapter rating | 18+

warnings | angst, smut (but it’s angsty smut lksjdflk help), nipple play, dry humping, alcohol consumption, someee intense jealousy

a/n | FIRST OF ALL im so sorry this is so incredibly late lskjdflkjs life has been extremely busy for me 😪 but it’s here!!!! thank you to everybuddy who’s been waiting patiently for this 🤧🤧 but i think this is one of the most angsty chapters of the series soooo 🙃

Namjoon’s an expert at avoiding uncomfortable topics, even if they’re massively serious. It’s something you absolutely hated and it was the cause of many arguments in your previous relationship, and perhaps was even the ultimate cause of your breakup.

But right now, you’re really beginning to understand the appeal.

The first time he swung by the museum for lunch after his birthday celebration - a paper bag in hand filled with bagels still warm and toasty from the store on the corner that you adore - you were caught entirely off guard.

Your mind jumps to the unread messages sitting in your texts and you regret ignoring them. Not because the guilt had hit you, but because maybe if you had been contactable, you would have received a heads-up that he was coming by.

Some might call it selfish, but you prefer to call it self-preservation.

To be fair, it’s not like you were going to leave them unanswered forever. You just needed space to collect your thoughts and make sense of your confusing emotions first, lest you begin the conversation prematurely and drag Namjoon down into the dizzying depths of your current state. As it is right now, your thoughts are like nodes floating in a decontextualized void, the web still unformed because you haven’t had the time to grapple with everything yet.

But here he is, inspecting the cross-section of each bagel Soo-eun pulls out of the bag, trying to identify which is which. Yeri’s at his side, gushing about how great the bagels from this place are. The three of them are crowded around the paper bag that sits on the wooden bench, the paint peeling from the way it’s been bleached by the sun in the museum’s outdoor area. Here he is at your workplace. With your friends. You can’t ignore him now, not without rousing your friends’ suspicion.

But what you can ignore is the issue.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about this anyway. The atmosphere is warm and light, carrying traces of last night’s celebratory mood. The lunch treat is Namjoon’s way of appreciating the surprise you guys organized for him last night. And there’s a bagel stuffed full of salty sweet ham and sticky melty cheese waiting for you to sink your teeth into. Really not the time for serious conversations at all.

So when Namjoon’s eyes search yours, all wide and probing, as you step in to grab your share, you simply smile and thank him, before slinking away to join Soo-eun on the next bench. Not too far - barely five steps away - but far enough that it gives you space to breathe. Even if Namjoon notices your attempts at escaping, he doesn’t have time to call you out on it. Not when you slyly shoot Yeri a wink. Seamlessly, she catches the cue and sits herself down on the bench, tugging at his arm. For once, you welcome Yeri flirting with Namjoon.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving,” she says.

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers between you and Yeri, but you ignore it and take a generous bite of the bagel in your hands.

“Mm, so good,” you say, and turn to Soo-eun. “Don’t you miss the days before this place got really popular?”

“No, because you and Yeri insisted on going there every day. I can only ingest so many bagels a week.”

“____ hasn’t changed one bit.” Namjoon chuckles. “This time in middle school, she ate tater tots every single day for three weeks straight. She had to be banned for a week.”

“Are you weaponizing my middle school past against me?” you ask amidst your friends’ laughter. “Too bad. I don’t regret it for a second. Tater tots are too delicious to regret.”

Lunch falls back into the easy rhythm of lighthearted jibes, the kitchen debacle receding for now.

Procrastination is a real bitch of a habit to kick. As soon as one reason to put it off expires, your brain churns out another two in its place like a modern-day Hydra.

As for Namjoon? Well, you’re not surprised when he makes no moves to initiate the difficult conversation. After all, you’re adopting his bad habit.

Eventually it gets to the point where you might as well not talk about it at all. Everything’s going fine so far without it. Or as fine as it can be with this beast looming in the backdrop.

You know you need to just get this damn conversation over with. But you can’t. Not till you figure out what exactly is going on with your emotions. Without it, there’s no way you can cauterize the wounds and invalidate your excuses for what they are -- excuses.

It’s not that you haven’t tried. But it’s presenting itself as a real Herculean effort. Mulling it over has you tossing and turning in bed, only leaving you with a headache and a steadily growing desperation. It’s desperation enough that you leave the comfortable warmth of your bed to sit at your desk, shivering as you pen the familiar words once again.

Dear Namjoon,

The words flow in their usual, unrestricted manner. Before, it had been like a dam breaking, the tight restraint that was normally kept on your emotions finally released and the wave of emotions gushing out till it reached a peaceful equilibrium. But now, your emotions are just a whirlpool and your words you pen mimic its spiralling, chasing your thoughts in endless loops.

You’re not over him. But so what? It’s not like getting together is an option. Not when he hasn’t grown out of one of the major things that caused the end of your previous relationship. And not when you haven’t even talked that out, if you ever will.

So what can you do now? Kicking him out of your life will mean having to deal with the loss that his absence will bring again. Going back to pretending the other doesn’t exist will mean dancing around each other again every time you bump into each other in this too small city. And with the way your social circles are intertwined now, that would mean a bunch of explaining to do.

But having him close yet holding him at arm’s length? Walking the narrow margin that is being friends with your ex? A misstep in either direction would be torturous but inevitable - too close and it’s alarming, but too far and it’s a painful reminder that he’s not yours.

Far from the illuminating effect you were hoping it would have, your letter to Namjoon only leaves you deeper in confusion. You throw your pen down. Giving up, you fold the paper up. Sealing the letter in an envelope doesn’t bring the same sense of relief it did before. The Hydra remains unslain.

And so the problem gets shoved away - the same treatment the letter gets as it’s roughly tossed into the desk drawer - into the same corner of the recesses of your mind that your breakup resides in.

You know that Namjoon’s confused. Heck, you are too. It’s a strange dance the two of you are involved in, caught between the compulsion to continue yet knowing the risks it bears. Neither of you are bold enough to take the lead. And so this strange stasis drags on as it has for weeks now.

It’s as if the kiss unearthed something in him. Actually no, it’s unearthed something in both of you. And the tension - the fucking tension - is unreal. The tells are so obvious that you wonder how neither Yeri nor Soo-eun have said anything about it yet. There’s certainly no subtlety in the way his eyes linger on your lips in the middle of conversations that you wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And when it’s just the two of you? It’s infinitely worse.

It’s hard to blame him. Touch has always been your love language and Namjoon knows it. Physical touch wasn’t just a thing of your previous two-year relationship. It was a thing of your decades of friendship too, the little touches so casual and almost subconscious. Rekindling your friendship without them had taken intentional effort.

You’re not sure who started it. Maybe both of you just fell back into it, the casual little touches slipping their way back in. But what’s not casual at all is the way your heartbeat goes erratic at the most simple of gestures. The way he blithely sweeps the crumbs from your lunch off your lap. The slightly too long side-hug he holds you in, the warmth of his arm around you permeating through the layers you wear and has you simultaneously freezing up while also turning your insides to goo. But it isn’t overtly romantic either.

At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself when the comfort of his touch gets too tempting and you end up succumbing to it. The familiarity of it all makes you feel like you’ve finally arrived home. As if you’ve been on this long, arduous journey and you’re finally here. You get to drop the heavy backpack and rest now.

But the voice of rationality in you tells you this wrong wrong wrong. You’ve got to get out of here.

And that’s how you end up here. White-knuckled grip tight on the edges of the sink as you stare yourself dead in the eyes in the bathroom mirror. The music outside thumps away albeit muted through the door to the ladies’. But the way your heart thumps has nothing to do with that.

Even without shifting your gaze, you can tell that your cheeks are slightly reddened and warm. You can feel it tingling. No, you don’t shift your gaze. It stays fixed on the intense stare that your reflection throws back at you like a challenge, the ferocity of it enhanced by the sharp eyeliner you’re wearing tonight, an uncharacteristic look for you.

Heck, this whole night is uncharacteristic.

You could take the easy route and blame it on Yeri. God knows she can be real persuasive - it’s why she’s excellent at her job. So getting you all out to the club on a Friday night to celebrate nothing other than the simple joy that - c’mon guys, we’re all young and alive and free and tell me that’s not worth celebrating and I’ll fucking fistfight you right here and now even with my freshly manicured nails - is no feat for her.

Still, no one really expected your simple reply, tone nonchalant and eyes still glued to your work screen, “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

Soo-eun had remained silent but you could feel her stiffen slightly beside you. Yeri had been surprised too but more elated that she didn’t have to get through your usual ten solid minutes of whining and half-baked attempts at slithering your way out of it.

But back to the present. Your bodycon dress - one of the rare pieces that survived not just your college partying days but also the wardrobe purge that occurred when you had to downsize everything to fit into the tiny apartment that’s quintessential to city-living - expands with your chest as you take a deep breath. Gripping the hem where it sits mid-thigh, you yank it down slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve worn this dress. And while the younger, more risque version of you that was your college self had been enthralled by the daringness of the dress, your current self has to dig deep to muster up that same boldness.

Relenting as you realize that this is the limit to how much you can stretch the length of your dress, you let go and your fingertips unintentionally brush your thigh as it falls back to your side. It elicits a shudder, the sensation of your own fingers too close to the electrifying feeling of someone’s thumb skimming across it. It was electrifying enough that your brain finally powered up again, voice of rationality sending you skedaddling away, out of reach of his touch, and pathetically seeking refuge in the washroom.

You roll your shoulders back and shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Standing upright, you look yourself in the eye again. You can do this. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to have a good time with your friends. You’re going to have a good time with Namjoon. With a nod of affirmation, you turn and saunter your way back to the club with a confidence that has your chin firmly tipped upwards.

You push the door open and look for your friends. The sight that greets you immediately punctures your confidence and your steady posture falls limp.

It’s hard to miss her silvery dress - the dress you knew she would wear and the dress that your very own was meant to counter. It catches the light and grabs attention. And at this moment, it grabs your attention so you can witness Yeri standing between Namjoon’s manspread thighs as he’s perched on the barstool, her hands all over him.

Whatever puffed up confidence you’d had is knocked out of you with that sucker punch of a sight. You turn away, needing to look anywhere but at them.

And that’s when your line of sight falls on a curly-haired man, oddly familiar, and apparently someone you know since he’s waving to you.

“____, hey!” he yells over the music.

“Dong-In?”

He nods and smiles at you. “It’s been a while.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “I was supposed to get back to you on brunch, wasn’t I?” Damn. You’ve been so wrapped up with Namjoon that you totally forgot about Dong-In. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been really caught up with things.”

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs boyishly. “The exhibition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sure, the exhibition. Let’s go with that.

“And nothing to do with…” he directs his gaze - and yours along with it - to none other than Namjoon who’s now drinking with Yeri.

Your gaze snaps back to Dong-In and his cheshire grin.

“Nah,” you feign a laugh. “He’s just a friend.”

“The hand he had on you sure didn’t look like just friends.”

“I said we’re just friends,” you snap, then gasp, taken aback by your own outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I should be the one apologizing. I hit a nerve there, didn’t I. D’you wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and mellow and oh so inviting. And you very nearly give in.

But you can’t pull him into your problems. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Not really. But thanks, Dong-In.”

“That’s cool.” He nods, and relief fills you. This is what you’ve always liked about Dong-In. He’s chill. “Well since we’re here, wanna get buzzed?”

You laugh. “I won’t say no to that.”

The bar isn’t too far from where you are, and it doesn’t take long before the burn of alcohol is sliding down your throat. Picking up the conversation again, you have to admit, you’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to Dong-In. He’s got that effortless charisma and an easy sense of humor that you can vibe with. Things are simple with him. There’s no line to be tiptoed. Flirting - now that you’re no longer obtuse and you’re finally aware that he is indeed flirting with you - isn’t accompanied by guilt or fear.

And after weeks of this complicated situation with Namjoon, simplicity is what you crave.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” you ask suddenly. Surprise colors his features for a moment but he laughs it off.

“Is the conversation boring you? You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to,” he jokes.

“No!” You laugh. “There’s just a good beat going and-”

“I’m just kidding. I’d love to.” He smiles and grabs your hand.

The two of you weave your way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Lightly buzzed, the fog and the strobe lights blurring everything around you other than your dance partner, you finally find the courage you’ve been searching for this whole time. Dong-In hasn’t been very subtle about checking you out all night, and it gives you that extra boost of confidence that’s finally quelled the antsy thoughts and calmed the fidgety adjustments to your dress’s hemline.

So when his hands find your waist, you step in a little closer and run your hands through your hair, shaking it out and finally letting loose as your hips rock to the pounding beat. Dancing with Dong-In is much like conversing with him- easy and simple fun with just the slightest tinge of excitement. As your hips sway together in languid synchrony, you catch a whiff of the slightly intoxicating combination of his cologne and the undertones of his own natural scent. You give in to the giddying sensation of his hands running lightly over your body and press in closer, eyes fluttering shut, and just feeling. It’s thrilling. It’s risque. It’s-

A solid grip on your wrist yanks you forward and stumbling into a hard chest.

His voice is gruff as he bites out his words, “Get your hands off her.”

“Namjoon?” you gape.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes fix on yours, steely and piercing. A shiver runs down your spine - in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him like this. He tugs on your wrist once more. “Now.”

Dazed by this brand new persona, you don’t even get to say goodbye to Dong-In, just pulled along by the force that is a quietly fuming Namjoon. Everything happens so quickly that it’s all a blur until you’re in the Uber with him, silently clutching onto your purse as an anchor in this sudden whirlwind of events. The anger emanates off of him even in the dimly lit backseat.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, but the shock diminishes the level of conviction in your voice.

He turns to you, the same hardness still in his gaze. “I should be the one asking that.”

“What?!” you snap. In your peripheral vision, you see the Uber driver jump slightly. Lowering your tone, you hiss, “What gives you the right?”

“What gives me the right?” he echoes incredulously, scoffing and turning away from you to face forward instead as he rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

The car slows to a stop and you recognize your apartment building. You scramble to get away from him. But it seems your confrontation is far from over. Namjoon unbuckles his own seatbelt to follow you.

Terse silence sits between you, the aggravated stomping of your feet as you climb the stairs the only thing that fills the sound.

You turn sharply round the corner, stalking off to your apartment door. “You don’t have to escort me y’know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“Really?” He folds his arms and leans on the wall next to your door. “It’s hard to trust you when you go off getting drunk and throwing yourself at a random stranger in the club.”

“Is that what the problem is?” You finally ram the key in, and the click as it unlocks is as harsh as your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but I have a life apart from you. He’s no stranger. His name is Dong-In, he’s Yeri’s friend, and he’s a great guy.”

You shove the door open. Your heels get kicked off and left haphazardly at the entryway, shoe cabinet ignored.

“Wow, some great guy he is,” Namjoon slams the door shut and his shoes get discarded off his feet in the same fashion, “drunkenly feeling you up in a club.”

“Fuck!” You turn, wringing your hands in your hair. Your glares rival each other. “You say it as if I was strung along by him. Well I wasn’t. I initiated it.”

His glare flickers for a moment. He stays silent.

“Just admit that you’re jealous,” you whisper. You unsling your purse and dump it on top of the shoe cabinet, never breaking eye contact.

“Fine.” Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I am.”

He skulks forward and traps you between him and the cabinet, gaze holding yours. Namjoon’s always towered over you, but at the moment it isn’t his height that makes you feel tiny.

“Watching his hands all over you like this,” Namjoon’s hands slowly skim the back of your thighs and up your sides and you bite back a whimper, “makes me jealous.”

“And watching you respond like this?” He continues as a firm hand presses the small of your back to close the gap between your torsos. “Glued to him like this? It makes me jealous.”

“You don’t own me,” you whisper but it only elicits a sardonic laugh from him.

“You say that, but you know damn well that’s not the truth. Tell me. Are you jealous?”

“What would I-”

“Yeri.” Damn. Straight through the bullshit. With an eyebrow cocked, it’s obvious he knows the answer and he’s not budging, not even an inch.

“Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’m jealous.”

“Silly girl.” He traces the hemline of your dress. “I only want you.”

A soft keening noise spills out of you. “I’m so sick of holding back.” You tug on his dress shirt, and the feel of his plush lips finally, finally meeting yours snips the final frayed cords of self-restraint you possessed.

Namjoon is quick to reciprocate, and you moan as his tongue licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, needing nothing else but to have him close after all this time of distance. He hoists you up, and your legs circle his waist to aid him. The world around you sets into motion as he walks you to your bed, and you anchor yourself by pressing kisses to his neck.

With how tiny your apartment is, it takes no time for him to carry you from the entryway to your bedroom. The cool sensation of your unmade sheets envelops you as he lowers you down onto the bed. He barely gets a moment to appreciate the sight of you, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, lounging on the bed and waiting for him. Desperate for his touch and running out of patience, you gesture to the zip on the side of your dress. Hurrying, he pulls the zipper down as you tug your arms out of the thin straps of the garment. You sit up and let the torso of the dress fall to bunch up at your waist, revealing your bare chest to him.

The quiet gasp that escapes him as he beholds you is infinitely flattering. It’s but a momentary pause. He dives forward into action again. An arm looped around your back to support you as your chest arches upwards, he crouches over you to take one perked-up tit into the heat of his mouth, his free hand coming up to toy with the other. His tongue laves over your nipple in a slippery flick. The other gets pinched and rolled, leaving you gasping at the delicious sensations.

“Namjoon,” you moan out breathily, and it only eggs him on. You whimper as he begins sucking on the bud and wetness pools between your thighs. Your fingernails rake down his back, muted through the layer of his dress shirt.

“M-more,” you plead. He releases your breast and moves his mouth upwards, trailing gentle pecks till he kisses along the length of your collarbone.

“Come here,” he commands, his words breathy and hot as they puff against the thin skin of your clavicle. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you follow hastily.

You clamber on top of him, knees bent and straddling his lap as he helps you hike the skirt of your dress up. But before you seat yourself atop the prominent bulge in the lightwash denim of his jeans, he holds you still with a firm grasp on your hip.

His thumb trails the lace detail of your panties, the patterns snaking across your hip bone, baby pink like your dress.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles. His fingers wander to your clothed core, the material slightly sheer from the damp spot of your arousal. He strokes it tenderly with the pad of his finger, so light that it has you quivering as you hover above him.

His fingernail grazes your slit through the wet material and a gasp catches in your throat. You clench around nothing as carnal desire throbs through your core.

“Namjoon, please,” you whine.

Finally, he gives in to you and pulls you down. Your laced core meets his rough denim-clad one. The stiff material of his jeans pokes through the delicate fabric of your underwear, the friction rough as he drags you over his clothed bulge. The burn is delicious. His hands on you set a slow but steady rhythm that you follow easily, canting your hips in time. It’s enrapturing to watch the way you grind on one another, your clit rubbing up on the apex of his bulge in mutual pleasure.

A finger tips your chin up from the sight you were fixated on.

“Eyes on me.”

It’s difficult. Pleasure has your eyes drooping shut. But the intensity of his gaze compellingly holds yours and you manage, even if barely. His expression is stoic, and it’s only the twitch of his dick that betrays how affected he is. You, on the other hand, are completely abandoned to pleasure. Hands scrabbling across his upper back and up until they settle themselves as fists gripping tufts of his hair, teeth clamped on your bottom lip as moans spill out of you at increasing frequency as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs until-

Burrowing your face into the side of his neck, you pant as you cross the peak. Hips now stilled, your climax has you throbbing against his hardened member. You cling onto him with your arms around his neck as you free-fall in the subsiding pleasure. Bare chest brushing against the smooth material of his dress shirt, you catch your breath and yield to the moment.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.” Louder this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The regret in his words yank you out of the heady fog of lust. There’s no time to bask in the afterglow. Reality comes crashing down hard and mercilessly.

Suddenly, you feel so small and so exposed. You read his regret as rejection. Your nudity and previous salacious actions make you feel stupid.

Namjoon attempts to extricate your arms from around him, but shame has you clutching to him tighter, hiding your face in his neck. You can still feel him under you, but it’s now an uncomfortable reminder of the act you just committed.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle now, pleading, “look at me? Please?”

You refuse. It’s impossible to look him in the eye right now.

“Fuck.” Even whispered, the panic laced in his tone is blatant. Gently, he maneuvers both of you to turn over. Feeling the mattress underneath you as you’re laid on your back, you release your hold on him and swiftly turn and tug your blanket up to hide away from him.

“____.” He tries. You grip the sheets even tighter as you feel him trying to pull it away from your face. “Please.”

Embarrassment. Guilt. Mortification. They overtake you and you curl in on yourself. You just want to disappear.

“____,” he tries again, hand stroking your head. But you don’t allow yourself to succumb to its comfort. “Talk to me. Please.”

Oh, now he wants to talk.

Why couldn’t you have just talked things out earlier? Why only now when things have fallen apart? Why now when you’ve just done something so stupid and so reckless?

Why now when it’s too late? What can talking possibly do to fix this now?

His pleas are met with silence.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says resignedly.

More silence. He sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he gets up. From where you’re still hiding in the stuffy darkness underneath your blanket, you hear his footsteps return and the muted thud of the glass getting placed on your bedside table.

The silence returns, but you can feel his presence. You imagine he’s staring at your blanket lump on the bed.

Finally, the heavy quietness is broken with a deep breath, and you hear him say softly, “Get a good night’s rest, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

The light clicks off and you’re plunged into lonely pitch-black darkness. In the distance, you hear the heavy opening and closing of your front door as Namjoon leaves.

Unearthing yourself to the coolness of the night, your dress an uncomfortable lump around your waist, your breasts slightly sore from his previous ministrations, you stare up at the ceiling as hot tears leak out.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you drag yourself out of bed the next day. Sleep came intermittently and was far from restful, but waking up meant facing the nightmarish reality of what had transpired. So you hid under the covers for as long as you could. But you know you can’t stay there forever.

The buzzing notifications of your phone had woken you up on more than one occasion in the night. But you ignore it and leave your phone next to the glass of water - still untouched - in favor of washing up. It’s more pressing anyway, you surmise. You can feel your make-up, now icky and caked on your face. It’s awful. Your skin is probably revolting against you now and you don’t even want to think about the mess it probably left on your pillowcase. But last night, you were simply paralyzed by the weight of what you’d done, crying till sleep finally came for you.

You take your time going through an extensive skincare routine, even busting out the clay mask you had impulsively bought together with Yeri when it was on discount. You’re doing it because your skin needs the pampering and definitely not because you’re procrastinating getting to your phone.

But there’s only so many steps you can do with the limited skincare products in your apartment. And you know your friends are probably worried about your abrupt disappearance last night. Getting to those messages first, you quickly assure Soo-eun and Yeri that you’re safe at home. Looking at the remaining notifications, you sigh.

Missed calls Namjoon (8)

7 unread messages from 2 chats Namjoon: are you still sleeping? Namjoon: hey, you still asleep? Namjoon: text me when you’re up please? Namjoon: are you awake?

Dong-In: hey! Dong-In: not sure what exactly happened at the end there haha, but it was rly great seeing u again. Dong-In: i’m still waiting on that brunch reschedule, by the way.

Memories from last night come back to you. Dong-In runs his hands through his curls, an easy grin on his face as he leans in to listen to you over the loud music of the club. Things are simple with Dong-In. And, standing on the precipice of a mental spiral whenever you think of Namjoon, the same craving for simplicity from last night returns.

[2:06pm] ____: well it’s a little late for brunch right now

[2:06pm] ____: but you still up to grab a bite?

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walker-journal · 3 years

Text

Lenan and Lampchops (Adam and Caoimhe)

Characters: Adam Walker (Hunter- Tapir), Caoimhe Brennan (Leanan-Sidhe-Sadie)

Timing: Before the events of Hell’s True North

Summary: The search for Nell continues on a deceptive world of sheep and stray sod where Adam happens to run into, Caoimhe, one of the music professors who isn’t quite as surprised about Sheep Hell as she should be.

Content Warning: Gun Use

Adam looked into a bright sky with unfamiliar stars and other verdant worlds of fields and jungles that loomed in the sky. Fields of soft grass extended unbroken toward the horizon, undulating in the breeze. Towering thickets of Illuabris Ferns, larger than he’d ever seen them grow on Earth, were pillars of black and violet that stood stark against the rolling green.

Vegetable Lambs grazed around the Hunter, paying him no mind as they basked in the off-color light of alien suns. Adam had been wandering for what felt like many days now, but the strange sky didn’t give much clue if that was true. Only the deterioration of his clothes, now bleached by sun and sporting tattered holes hinted that the Hunter had been hiking for far longer than he realized. He couldn’t even count how many of these barometz lambs he’d eaten to keep his strength up, the rest of the herds always just staring with dull dispassion as Adam butchered and cooked one of their number.

He was lost, and had been so long enough for his tactical gear to fray, fade, and make Adam look more like a beleaguered deserter than someone who’d come here armed to the teeth on a mission.

The Hunter had to admit that of all the worlds he’d been to so far while trying to find Nell, Lambchops Land was definitely the most surprising with its ass-kicking at the moment, and it hadn’t even given him a scratch.

Adam felt a flicker of a paranormal presence that definitely wasn’t another goddam lamb. He crested another hill at a slow cautious gait, raising his rifle at the…

The new music teacher?

Wait….was that her? Was he…?

Ok, so if her chest burst open and she’s been a Lamb Alien the whole time Adam was just done, so done.

“Hey ...uh..Professor Brennan,” said the sunburnt ragged soldier, “what brings you to Lambchop Land?”

It was like something Caoimhe had seen in a picture, or dancing between the flames of the bonfires they’d light in Ireland. It was a world forever just out of reach, only as permanent as any single tendril of flame. It was beautiful, painted in hues of blue and green, all movement as the grass swayed back and forth, a patchwork quilt of stars overhead, and–

And Vegetable Lambs. Vegetable Lambs as far as the eye could see. They dotted the otherwise pristine landscape, cutting figures of cotton-fluff and fruit against the horizon. The peaceful breeze brought with it the bleating of different herds. It was by far the best portal Caoimhe had poked her head into yet: picturesque with a touch of levity.

Then the view changed with the barrel of a rifle. She followed the length of it up until she was met with ruffled hair and sun-bleached clothes, and the kind of weariness only seen in well-worn travelers who hadn’t seen home in far too long. He looked out of place, a single ragged figure painted in dusty pencil over a backdrop of vibrant oils. It was a concept, but Caoimhe wasn’t sure it quite suited him. The way his grip sat against the rifle, she thought maybe he might better fit in the climax of an old western; the twanging of the guitar builds.

“Just me.” She held her hands up for a moment before letting them fall back to her side. He looked like he’d been prepared at one point in time. This trip wasn’t an accident for him. “Would you believe me, if I told you I just stumbled in? Can’t say I expected White Crest to be so...dimensionally inclusive.”

Adam cocked his head at the music professor, features moving from confusion to frowning wariness as her lack of disorientation set off alarm bells in his brain. The Hunter could feel that she wasn’t human but didn’t narrow things down much.

“I’d believe it,” Adam affirmed. “There have been some other folks that’ve gotten yoinked by these space rips,” the planar wanderer noted. “White Crest is in a weak spot in reality,” the apocalypse prepper claimed, not really bothering to pretend ignorance when he was gun totting on the Veggie Lamb Planet. “I just hope we can find some way to seal that shit up before everything goes to hell...like permanently y’know?”

Adam sighed. “So uh...you would have happened to have seen a portal anywhere?”

Yes.

Caoimhe hesitated a moment. She’d pegged it right, he was prepared. Whatever had actually brought him to a planet of Vegetable Lambs, he at least had a mission now. And it seemed like the knowledge to accomplish it, if he could ever find a portal again. If she helped him find a portal again. His expression shifted, and her eyebrows lifted; curious.

He needed help, something curious in and of itself, considering. The portal she’d come through herself wasn’t too far away, obscured by the rolling hills. If he could manage to walk a straight line for more than a few minutes, he might even be able to stumble back through it without her help. But the state of him told her he’d been trying just that, to no avail. If something had him that turned around–

“I haven’t been here very long, so logically there should be one not too far away.” She kicked the grass at her feet. “If we put our heads together, we can find a way out. Don’t think either of us will be doing much good solving the portal crisis here. Any ideas what’s caused it yet?”

“I uh...can’t find my way,” Adam admitted. The Hunter reached into his pack and pulled out a battered compass. Adam closed his eyes and placed home at the forefront of his mind, focusing on the faces of friends and the DIE fraternity house. The compass Penelope had enchanted on the eve of their last night began to spin. The sorceress’ magic sensed the intention of Adam’s heart and soon the compass needle was dutifully pointing the way to portal back White Crest.

The only problem was, no matter how far Adam walked on these paradisiacal rolling hills in the direction of an exit, he kept circling back and retracing his way out.

“This compass was enchanted by a witch to help me find the way,” Adam said, choosing to simplify the painful knot of emotions that came with this gift. “But no matter what happens I keep circling back.”

Adam shook his head at the question of a bigger picture. “I know there are keys and big-ass worm boring through dimensions but I’ve got no idea how they all fit together yet.”

“I’ve gathered.” Caoimhe grinned up at the disheveled Adam, obviously having been wandering for longer than he ever should have been. Curiosity brought her the rest of the way up the hill to stand next to him. It was a neat trick, to say the least. With a needle to point him exactly where he should go, he should have found his way out long before the sun could bleach his clothes. The hills were just redundant enough to be confusing, but not that confusing.

“You focus on the compass, then. Nowhere else, just the compass. I’ll make sure we’re not doing any circles.” Placing a gentle hand on his elbow, Caoimhe led them in the direction the compass pointed, a direction she knew would eventually yield a portal and a ticket home again. “You know, if you ignore the fact this portal has you all sorts of twisted up, it’s kind of beautiful.”

It was. Blues and greens and yellows and the gentle bleating of the Vegetables Lambs. It was rather harmless, but then, Caoimhe still knew exactly where she was standing and in which direction she needed to go. “Keys and worms. That’s...way too vague. Have there always been portals, or did I just move in at the wrong time?”

“Yeah in a Little House on the Prairie butter-churning sort of way,” Adam admitted, controlling himself enough not to flinch Caoimhe put his hand on his elbow. His Hunter senses send icy hot pinpricks through him at the paranormal woman’s touch and not in the sexy way. Adam was thankful that his time in White Crest had made the feeling of being around supernatural beings routine enough that he didn't go into fight or flight mode as much as he used to.

“So uh, is finding your way out in the country just a superpower you’d got then,” Adam asked as they crested another hill of strange colorful plants whose tendril polyps writhing and curled in the sunshine. Outright asking ‘what’ Caoimhe was seemed a bit on the nose considering that she was in a helpful mood.

“White Crest is in a like, dimensional weakspot,” Adam posited, seeing no reason to conceal the information considering how literally to hell everything was going. “It’s properly why there are so many demons and whatnot around, but this is definitely a huge spike in Hellmouth stuff.”

With Adam following, Caoimhe let go and walked a few steps ahead. Her fingers curled into her palms and she spun herself through a few different answers. What she did wasn’t a superpower, though some might construe it as such. With their eyes glazed over and their hands moving over the keys of a piano, with a whole world of inspiration spreading itself in front of them. The divine muse. Caoimhe swallowed. It wasn’t a superpower. It was a mystical science at best. She wouldn’t go so far as to say a curse; she could hear her mother screaming from Ireland.

“Have you considered you might be exceptionally good at getting lost?” She cast a glance his direction, tone light. She had a feeling he wasn’t. She had a feeling he’d see right through her dancing around the point. “I’ve spent a lot of my life traveling, you tend to get good at the cardinal directions.”

She didn’t want to be seen. “Lovely. Welcome to White Crest, right? Portals and Hellmouths, and– what, what is that?”

The sun blotted out and the bleating seemed to increase in volume. Something deeper and louder broke through the din, then. Something Caoimhe could feel rattle in her chest.

“I mean...that’s fair,” Adam allowed, sunburned face breaking into a smile at Caoimhe’s counterpoint as he kept his eyes locked on the compass as they weaved their way through blossoming heaths and swaying forests of Illuabris Ferns.

Caoimhe’s exclamation raised Adam’s gaze to the verdant valley spread out below them.

In a cleft between four grassy hills was a circle of cairn stones. Within the cairn circle was what seemed to be a pit of pure sunlight that shone like a beacon in the sudden gloom that’d encroached across the sky.

Beyond the sunwell was what Adam had first taken to be an enormous tree before it shambled forward on hoofed feet. It was then that the Hunter realized it was a giant Barometz, bigger than any Earthly ecosystem would’ve made possible. It’s roots were a cluster of long hooved legs and scrambled forward like a bovine millipede. Engorged clusters of Vegetable Lambs hung from its branches in the matter of grapes on a vine, their discordant cacophony of shrieking growing closer.

“Well shit, its like a…. Megalamp King.”

“It’s coming our way, is what it is.” And directly in their way. Caoimhe thought throwing a dog on a piano might sound better than the thing trampling its way towards them. She’d heard middle-school bands who could give it a run for its money. Which was all entirely ignoring the fact that one misplaced, vine-thick hoof could squash her. It was a beautiful place, but she really didn’t want it to be the last place she ever saw.

“We shouldn’t be too far from the portal, but…” The sound of shuffling and the increasing din of the creature moving towards them was almost too loud, “We’re going to need to get through or around that. And unlike you, I don’t have a rifle.”

Nor were her gifts particularly suited for Vegetable Kombat. Round one, fight. “Any ideas?”

Adam reached behind to his back and produced a metal sphere topped with a fuse clip and safety to offered it to the professor. “I’ll fire at it and try to draw the Lamb Tree off the side,” he suggested as the towering Barometz began to lumber up the hill. “Run to the portal while I distract it. When you get there, pull this clip and throw this explosive at it.”

Adam doubted a handheld grenade would actually kill something this big but it’d at least buy a moment or two hopefully. “That might give me enough to run to you and we can get the hell out. Sound good?”

A bomb. He handed her a bomb. And really it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise, considering the rifle with which he’d greeted her, but Caoimhe still took a moment to stare at it. Her strengths had always been a little more subtle. It was in gentle but purposeful touches, encouragement, making someone weak just for existing and creating in a space with her. Adam’s strengths appeared to be explosive weaponry.

“...Sounds better than anything I could’ve come up with.” Caoimhe took the metal sphere gingerly, like it was liable to go off if she squeezed it too hard. Okay, she knew how a grenade worked. She’d watched movies before. She was entirely prepared. She nodded, “Just make sure you don’t get lost trying to find me.”

She cast a grin over her shoulder and ran. And it was shaky at best. The kind of grin worked around a desperate joke and a heart hammering a sharp staccato against her chest, through legs that felt more like jelly than muscle and bone. The ground shook as she did her best to flank it, each thunderous footstep displacing the earth around it. A quick glance up and Caoimhe could catch wide-eyes with different clusters of Vegetable Lambs dangling off the main beast, their mouths dropped open but the cacophony too loud to pick out the individuals.

She was going to throw up. Perhaps not right in the moment, but later, after the adrenaline fully wore off. After she had a chance to remember how tightly she’d been holding the grenade and how many times she’d almost tripped over her own feet. How the grass itself seemed to tangle around her ankles and she could only catch glimpses of Adam through the weaving roots and swaying lambs. She might even laugh, too. Since when was a lamb so horrifying?

By the time she spotted the portal, her chest burned, and it would be so easy to jump through and be done with the whole experience, but Adam. She pivoted around, pulled the pin, and lobbed the grenade as hard as she could.

Adam sprinted out of the ensuing cloud of splintered wood and sheep guts, wiping fleece and gory vines out of his eyes. He bled from an array of bites from entire clusters of ravenous sheep and burns from vine constriction. The Megalamp Tree staggered in a panicked frenzy, thrashing out wildly in the splinters and smoke. Enormous limbs carved deep furrows through the bright grass as they slammed blindly down. Adam wove back and forth among the heather as he tried to avoid the descent of column-like branches and the vegetable lambs being flung everywhere like shrieking dandelion seeds.

Adam sprinted over to Caoimhe, plastered in bloody fleece and leaves. He looked over to the vortex swirling between the cairn stones. “Thanks! Nearly got strangled by the Bo-Peep there.”

Caoimhe almost didn’t expect to see him come out the other side. Between the thrashing off the Megalamp Tree and Adam’s penchant for getting completely turned around, the odds were not in their favor. But he rounded the thrashing beast with a thanks and Caoimhe promptly doubled over, dry-heaving into the once-serene, swaying grass. For a moment, a thumbs up was all she could manage over pulling in one breath after another.

She was made for classrooms. For violins in bar bathrooms and crooked smiles and french horns and running from her problems. Adam was obviously built of tougher stuff. He didn’t seem much phased by red-stained fleece and sticky leaves. He had a rifle and a bomb, and something twisted in Caoimhe’s chest, but she wasn’t going to question him when he’d handed her a ticket out. He was made for something else.

“I found the portal.” She rubbed at her eyes and grinned behind the column of her forearms. She found the portal, and he fought their way out. Caoimhe supposed she should be thankful. “Wouldn’t have been much good if I had been crushed, though.”

The ground shook as clumps of lambs fell wildly onto the ground, little feet scrambling every which direction, lost. Whatever Adam was made for, she was glad she’d found him. “Thank you.” She crooked a thumb over her shoulder at the mess of a beast behind them, “That was all you. I think...I think maybe we’d both have been stuck here.”

She stopped short of a ‘we make a good team,’ and settled for a thankful smile, stepping back to make sure he was able to pass through the portal and casting one last glance at the mess they left behind them.

#evebrennan #caoimhe #Portal Combat #potw #adam #gun use tw

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 15)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 14 (Link)

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Mornings with Geralt especially after a night full of bliss can keep your face burning hot from the discernment that he'd finally bed you. He was insatiable and also salty from dodging his subtle gestures---which can be quite entertaining to experience and also upsetting when it took him three days of keeping his distance. But, the witcher made up his absence by giving a gift that surely warmed your heart.

Warnings: Mention of Bucky, X-men and the Avengers. (Weird, I know. HAHA!) Suggestive content. Cheeky Geralt. Nudity. Salty Geralt. (LMAO XD) Shy reader. Kinda sweet Geralt? There's floof in this! Geralt unfamiliar with the feeling of holding hands. Heehee! Mention of bulge, nipples and punani? Also, a cunning reader. HA!

Words: 8.9k (It's a lot. I know. Sorry. The next chapter is actually smut again. Damn. It's also 10k words. I AM UTTERLY SHOOKTH. XD)

A/N: Chapter 15.1 will be smut. No plot shift for the rest 2-3 chapters. (Just relationship development for the reader and our white wolf) Let's just be happy with these type of chapters before I drop bombs, bb's! Also, let's just appreciate that Geralt is feeling happy (still being how he is tho) before shit goes down again and he's all brooding. XD Geralt deserves this! XD I don’t want the characters to just revolve around the idea and pleasure of lust because I know it is more than that.

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi (GIF credits: witches-ground, white-wolf-of-rivia, demivampirew)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

ONE HABIT OF YOURS THAT YOU WERE USED TO DOING IN THE MORNING IS TO STRETCH ALL THOSE KNOTS THAT HAPPENED TO BE ACHING WHILE YOU'VE SLEPT LIKE A BABY. The ravens that tweeted on the window side never seem to wake you up, but your body clock did.

No blinding sunlight has woken you up from your slumber this time. A lazy whine gurgled at the back of your throat; shifting on your side of the bed as you've turned sideways to sluggishly haul your arm on an expected empty space to surprisingly feel solid, chiseled, warm, valley of muscles that laid upon your palms.

You've swallowed your saliva, your throat feeling scratchy and drier than usual. A subtle clearing of your throat as you narrowed your eyes to presume that the white wolf was already out and about before you even were.

Well-knit arms and sturdy shoulders that were precisely sized like your thighs, crinite chest that you somehow managed to goggle once your half-lidded eyes blinked to straighten the blurry gaze of yours, eyesight now sharp as a cheetah. Perspective concentrated on the beefy man who had his blankets treacherously meeting the ends of his torso, mantling the parts he needed to cover for the sake of your stability.

You didn't even know your palms were already caressing Geralt's prominent abs when you've raked his body at a snail's time. Glowing, soft and amused amber eyes already focusing on your groggy state of mind.

"Good morning," the scarred hunk of a man huskily greeted, his timbre lacing with an unused pliant tone that certainly left your thoughts unprocessed as your hand cease its freedom from feeling his abs brushing beneath your fingers.

You've taken a dry gulp, impulsively carrying your weight with the help of your elbow, gaping at the witcher who had a stoic face but with unfathomable emotions filled within his eyes.

"I wasn't fondling with your abs, I swear! I was...caring and caressing your scars!" an arm was raised, like you've been caught by the police for creating a crime. The other supporting your weight against the mattress as Geralt seemed to be in a sustained position. Back wholly laying down with his face turned to your looming ones as he rested below you.

He sluggishly blinked, eyes slightly seeing something more worth to admire at as he looked down on your wonderful unclad chest before cocking a brow to skeptically admit with his eyes now focused on you, "That...didn't felt like there were any scars on that part,"

You could tell his mind was preoccupied as he licked his lips, taking a glance of what he was been looking at when you've seen breasts out in the open that made you emit a tiny shriek which got the witcher grinning a little. The blankets on you were hurriedly raised till your chest was covered; though, it probably had no use already from how you've seen the hickeys that were left all around you chest; convincing you that having a nipple slip wasn't the only thing uncouth.

A mortified look on your face had Geralt entertained first thing in the morning. A weird expression you pull whenever you're in the midst of feeling petrified for every new stuff that you experience in their world; never having to experience it back in your earth.

For all one knows, you were probably a reserved child or simply a staid that you haven't gotten a real man throughout your lifetime.

Geralt kept his mouth shut; as he always does and waited for you to vent and clear out your horrified burst of emotions. He knew you would calm down a little after saying what you needed to honestly tell, and so; he silently listened.

"Please tell me you've taken my clothes off because I needed a bath and because of whatever I was feeling last night---because, because---I'm so freaking redundant, I apologize--- Also, I gotta' say and ask you an intriguing question that you surely don't mind based on how you are lacking clothes right now---but, are you NAKED UNDER THE COVERS, Geralt?"

You couldn't believe you've taken drastic measures last night.

Face began to twist in embarrassment, it was like the morning wanted you to take the recording device and press the playback button. The horrible thread of wanton moans and utterances in the middle of being riled chimed in your head like your dignity was laughing at how you promised never to give in to the witcher because he was a fuck boy in their dimension.

Who's cackling now?

Right. Your strength of character was, because you didn't seem to be quite strong for lewdly moaning out his name like a prayer in the middle of the night. Those raunchy ugh's and oh's will continue to haunt you down.

Geralt's expressions seemed to be unreadable still, until you've seen his lips pucker a little, slightly tilting his head as he tried to sit up, "I'm taking the blankets off."

You tried to stop him and held onto his shoulders, softly clawing at the back of his disheveled, chalky white hair as the touch wasn't making you feel any discomfort for the first time; would you even feel uncomfortable after being bonked all night? you probably hugged him when he had rode you off to wonderland for a couple of times already.

"Wait---no!"

His unkempt head fell on his pillow with a soft thud, vaguely turning his head till you were within an ace of breathing each other's oxygen.

The witcher kept still and hushed. His gaze falling on your semi-dry lips as he quietly listened to all your questions; ceasing from saying anything less than his breathing, "It happened, didn't it?" he became more blasè when you've thrown your queries at him in a hurried pace, not giving him a chance to answer, "---I didn't have a wet dream or something?"

As more as you talk, letting the panic rise to your head because of the shame you felt that maybe he would feel used after being so in need for such a passionate impaling; the sex being done out of help or because there was no other choice for the pain to stop, those sly fidgety fingers of yours topped off his thatch of hair that laid upon his chest, tracing the notch of his medallion as you heard him lowly hum in delight.

Geralt only answered you with a lazy blink of his eyes, heedful of your fingers mindlessly caressing his skin because you were anxiety-filled as of the moment. He let you, always will; with eyebrows tightly furrowed together as he was trying to retain the image of your sweet, seraph face, scruffy hair and painted skin that was filled by witcher bites.

You pouted. Your lightly swollen, grouchy morning face go on about how your core felt sore from how it has been penetrated hours after hours end, "I'm sore. You sure I didn't just got prank by Jaskier and somehow stupidly sat on a pole that stabbed my reproductive organ?"

The sexy, hot, and stark naked white wolf subtly shook his head, his palm retracting from behind his head as he moved his thick arm, slipping beneath the white covers. Determined for his listless touches; strong fingers gliding behind to rest his palm against the small of your back.

His touchy-feely gestures made you swallow the collywobbles, rapidly blinking back as you hardly believed he was actually touching you back. Far as you remembered, when you hugged him while his hair was being braided, Geralt went stiff and still, never knowing what to do with your sudden, impulsive actions.

Your words stumbled after each other, slightly stuttering at the perfervid gaze he opted to give out of his wits, "Great! No...no more sacrifices of virgin women to witches now?"

Geralt was still voiceless as he remained speechless. Your image in the morning placing him in a trance. You awkwardly cleared your dry throat, wincing because of how stupefied he appeared to be. Your hand quickly came to cover your mouth, stifling the embarrassment because of how he seemed to be blown away by particular things you didn't know about. One of your guesses was that he was dumbfounded by your morning breath, "Oh, my morning breath. Explains why you're not talking, Rivia."

You've warily stuck your head in between the crook of Geralt's neck and clavicle after being forthright. The touch of your skin against his knocking him out of his reverie as he tried to turn his head to see your face, but failed to do so; your face thoroughly hidden in his peripheral vision.

"No. That's never happening." he hoarsely murmured; answering your 'sacrificing a virgin' question. His timbre awfully deeper and rougher than most of the time. This was his morning voice then, and you were sure your heart began to wildly flutter because of his fingers behind the small of your back; absentmindedly brushing his calloused palms against your delicate skin.

You mumbled against his shoulder, speaking tone more sotto voce and inaudible. But, the white wolf heard everything. Your tone turning pocket-sized because of how scandalous the question have been.

"I'm not a virgin anymore then?"

He granted your question with an affirmative hum, his answer felt like you were tickled under your palm as you were still being a scatterbrain.

"We'd really...?" you trailed off dubiously. The train of thought left like a scattered path that had an arrow as to what you really wanted to mean. You've felt his chest exhale a sigh before he lowly spoke and frankly continued the sentence for you, "Bed you?" the witcher grouched like he wanted to scoff from how beyond belief you sounded, "---Yes, midget. I did. We did."

Geralt felt your shoulders shaking, your mouth exhaling stifled, mirthful giggles as your face went flushed from the reality of your virginity being taken by the witcher.

A dashing mutated human who came from a different world. He was like a character that existed in a game or movie. The type of television series that you would love to watch despite of having many seasons for it based on how interesting his world have been. Less frightening through a gadget rather than experiencing it in real life though.

Your first experience with sex and it had to thankfully be with Geralt of Rivia.

"Oh..Ohohoho," you expressed your faint simpers, feeling Geralt's fingers turned still as he waited for you to continue like he always does, "---You're not serious."

He sensed the slight snigger in your tone, the disbelief somewhat dripping in strong because of the thought. Though, there was also a bit of worry to it because you were probably agitated of what would happen after this; like it was just the start of something bigger and you knew it wasn't just the girth that has piped you in like a broken faucet which is needed to be fixed all night.

"Geralt of...Mmmhia and me," you mused before feeling his fingers brush up your sides; the butterflies in your stomach tickling your insides making you partly squirm from his touch. Your body oblivious of the modest shiver of your body that has automatically responded to the witcher's touches.

A pair of soft, pillowy lips rested upon your shoulder, pecking your silky skin that somehow had a purplish bite and the witcher tried soothing it with a kiss.

"It happened. Even more than once."

You've tried hard to suppress your exhilaration from how the witcher has been acting. Staying in bed with you, saying good morning and most of all, boldly kissing you or in every parts of your body whenever you're together. It was an obvious notification that he was a lot more brazen with you alone, by preference; Geralt appeared to be like a person who lets his walls down when you're the only person he's with.

A deep, baritone chuckle was heard after your toned down squealing. You swiftly lifted your head to meet the diablerie eyes of the white wolf, his mouth in a tight-thin line before winding his long fingers around your nape, pulling your face close until his lips met yours, his vermillion avid to give you a passionate one when he planned to only give you a soft peck that would make his gluttonous cravings contented.

Nevertheless, he knew it wouldn't based on how he wanted to rile you up again, all day. Just those naive, coy innocence of yours was enough reason to continue his corrupting.

You've held a hand on his chest when he tried to deepen the kiss, lifting himself up with an elbow while he continued to connect your lips to his; smoothly molding as one before you've felt his hoary hair frame your face, paving the way till you were laid flat upon your back; Geralt's heavy, muscular weight starting to crush you. His soft kisses that turned choleric had a hidden agenda when he tried placing you under him, and you knew what strategy he was playing.

Your warm palms stopped his ministrations with a hand on his bewhiskered, chiseled chest. The look in your eyes savvy for what he was planning for; feebly doing it so as you were puny with just one aflamed kiss from the witcher. His spirited kisses were cut-short, a coquettish look within those glowing amber eyes that gave you the tingles when you were trying to grasp how you've fantasized to have his weight crushing you as he laid on top; then now it wasn't just a fantasy of yours as it turned into a reality.

"We actually did the birds and the bees then, if you're that comfortable with kissing me, Geralt."

His features appeared to be like he couldn't-care-less, until such time his taciturn self had slipped a small smile or two making you raise a skeptical brow. Geralt tried to put his lips back to where it came from before you've tutted with frisk.

The latter deeply groaned to himself, cocking his head to the side when you've received an unusual balk from a man who rarely expresses himself. He dejectedly rolled off you, seeing him raise a skeptical brow. Geralt's cynicism catching you off guard like he was an adult who has never been given what he wanted.

"I had you all night," he claimed, sounding totally point-blank as he sat his ripped back against the wooden headboard. The covers just below his torso as a trail of trimmed hair was hiking down a path that had your fingers cursory signing the cross like you were being whispered by the devil on your shoulders.

He didn't seem to mind showing you his sculpted body that was carved by the gods, after screwing with him, he became pretty much as bold as brass unlike you who was still sheepish about your naked self hidden beneath the covers. Well, if you had a chiseled body like Geralt of Rivia; you wouldn't be shy of it at all.

Geralt's lips were slightly curled up in a sneer as he sat beside your laying, timid form. You shifted across the bed, rolling off to the other side till you weren't facing the goading, ghost-voiced witcher---who sounded so hot nevertheless---and you saucily concluded, "It was just...a wet dream of me being one horny woman. Not real."

You can sense that he wanted to scoff, feeling his eyes tickling your back because you knew he was still staring.

"You begged for it," he spoke as a matter of fact.

Oh, he's wanting a debate in this one. You thought in the back of your mind. Discomfited by the truth that was set free. Much to your chagrin, his frank discussion made you jump on the bed, sitting upright with the blankets covering your chest as you let out an incredulous gasp, feigning the whole act that you didn't know the veracity held within his facts.

His gaze was entirely pooling with mischief and a little bit of pride as well. He was close-lipped when his features began to endearingly soften, ushering your heart to turn mushy from how evocative his gaze held; tinting your face with a blush that certainly couldn't be seen through the naked eye.

"It--It was the scar's fault! You didn't need to be so blunt about it!---also stop looking at me like that!"

Your heart was on edge like it was standing on the ends of the cliff, waiting for the catapult to just be done with Geralt probably standing below you with open arms. You've given him a faltering glare that consists of ambivalent emotions soaring high.

You didn't know where to look, eyes shun away from the man. Briefly shifting from the windows behind him; lately realizing that his wide ranging built actually had him covering the sunlight for you as you slept. A hand clutched the blankets tightly in front of your chest while the other hand had you fidgeting over the disarranged bed covers; tapping and tapping till it ceased when you've felt Geralt's fingers grazing along your chin, turning to look him in the eye and you swore breakfast was already served before you even know it.

"That wasn't the issue when you've left me alone in my chambers---trying to upset me when you've braided my hair,"

He deeply mocked as you feigned another gasp. It galled you that he was accusing you that you've left him upset yesterday. He wasn't just the only one who was aggrieved from the whole situation.

"Excuse me---?! What are you actually trying to point out here? Now, you think of me like I'm some...some woman who planned this all along and--and---!!" your train of thought was cut off midway, forbearing what you wanted to say as the witcher raised a brow in understanding; knowing what you meant.

A promiscuous woman. Geralt never thought of you that way last night when you were caught in the heat of the moment especially experiencing the effects of the Cicatrix. He found it definitely onerous mostly that he also could feel what you felt; happiness, sadness, fear, anxiety, vexation and a lot more that could vary. Though, the witcher would know what you felt when the emotions were already clouding up your mind; filling them until it was the only thing that runs in your heart before sensing it.

The whole intuition about sensing each other's feelings still had no answer. Though, both of you knew it was also because of that bizarre mark that was carved in between your breast; knowing full well that the hunger you had for each other causes it at the same damn time.

Geralt's lips curled into a faint, kindly beam that had his eyes glowing in odd compassion.

"I don't. You're still my midget,"

You tightly blinked, words jumbled all together with a disbelieving stammer, "Your---midget? Yours?" and subtly pointing a finger at him as you were entirely gobsmacked from his sudden admission and roundabout claiming towards the whole midget thing.

Does this mean he was your witcher then?

He averted his beautiful cat-eyes away, lowly humming beneath his chest and fleetingly shut his peepers, the isolation of being with you overwhelming him a lot. The solitude of being alone as much as possible; away from people except for Jaskier and Cirilla sounded calming. But, when you came along; your happy-go-lucky and naivity of yours swept himself off his feet no matter how emotionless he appeared to be.

Your sweet, bashful and intriguing presence was beyond overwhelming to his withdrawn behavior.

After hearing a hum from the witcher himself, you've hardly scooted away---thinking better to have breakfast in bed, no kidding---but chose to be practical and avoid a slip of your flushing face, turning your bare back away from Geralt; feet falling flat on the wooden floors as you straightened your back, lazily stretching as you softly mewled---that got the witcher burning holes on your back and also feeling himself twitch under the covers because he heard it so well.

You've felt his thick, long, calloused fingers brush against the small of your back, gliding along like he was insinuating at something.

"Another?"

He actually didn't mean...that, right? you silently talked to yourself, clearing your throat, ceasing your actions; gaze fixated at Geralt's used black buttoned tunic that was tossed to the floor.

"What do you mean, another?!"

Your tiny squeaks echoed around his chambers, chary of what he was hinting at that made your eyeballs pop out of your eye sockets from how he still wanted sex after having at least just two hours of nap. You were blissfully spent last night, utterly drained and here he was, the witcher was wanting more.

Was this one of his perks in being mutated?

His fingers gave you a slight tickle, rough voice turning velvety like silk, trying to scrub that determined but utmost wobbly state of mind when it came to your witcher. Geralt's fingers brushed along your spine, languidly tracing till the periphery of your shoulder blades that emitted a breathless exhale of your breath from his mere touch, "When I told you I would indulge your curiosity all night long and days thereafter, I wasn't lying."

Your skin felt so supple and satiny; the way he coveted all night wasn't enough to keep him sated. Satisfied. No. If it was possible to have you in a week of constant ravishing; he would delightfully do so. But, no. You didn't have his stamina nor do you probably feel comfortable by the sensitive feeling you were experiencing as of this morning.

Yes, you were sore. Very. But, the soreness was worth it in your perspective.

You hastily grabbed onto the used tunic, slipping your arms over the huge shirt in which Geralt loved seeing on you but he definitely wouldn't admit, "Oh! As much as I remembered, you never wanted this coochie in the first place! Telling me it was the Djinn effects or some sort!"

"---Midget," you've began your mockery, parodying his baritone timbre like a loser, trying hard type and Geralt couldn't help but place you under his scrutiny, his succulent lips curling into an amused smile as he silently watched you make a fool out of yourself, "---I don't deserve it. I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking---who's the liar now, huh?"

The witcher exhaled a long sigh, drowsily blinking as he added nonchalantly, "A shame." he stifled the amusement in his tone as you turned to see him slightly imploring to persuade that dead set decision of yours. Your reactions were priceless, even so; he kept his bulge twitching in anticipation for another wave of bliss because every breath he hears surprisingly makes him go gaga over you.

"---Spare me five minutes."

You looked at him like he has grown three heads. Unblinking from his risquè intimations of having your fantasies ticked down. It only needed a 'yes' from you and breakfast will immediately be served right thing in the morning.

Geralt of Mmmhia licked his lips, gaze narrowed as he was seeing the unwavering look within your eyes.

"Ten." he bluntly proposed, stifling a chuckle that made you want to just throw yourself at the witcher but you were a strong woman---though, your eyes have been a huge traitor against the strong will; raking along Geralt's body maybe more than once to admire him in the flesh. Yet, also the tragic experiences that his scars held.

You would ask him about it someday; deciding that you wouldn't want to ruin this rare mood of his.

"Must it be half an hour?" skeptically, he mumbled and blurted out in the open with a hum that snapped you out of your reverie.

"A liar indeed. You don't just take five minutes. Your five minutes consists of six hours or more! Probably even days!" you shook your head knowingly, subtly pointing down below as you sheepishly batted your eyelashes back to the staring witcher who was intensely doing it; with you who was gesturing to what he wanted, "---You're not having this,"

With a simple wiggle of your fingers he knew you wouldn't budge, nor was the white wolf even serious. Geralt was just sending a jest or maybe it also held a little bit of real talk if you would allow him for his wishes.

He'd feast ones eyes as you slid your feet off the bed, with bewilderment in his golden peepers. He opened both palms on either side, gesturing with his hands in astonishment from how you've curved him away, giving the morning bonking a miss. Geralt raked you from head to foot, having a thing about wearing his gigantic clothes that obviously didn't fit like a glove.

With the tousled hair, abnormally painted skin and body ache you were feeling, it was enough to get his agitating hunger firing up.

You heard him grouch as the bed squeaked, warning you that the witcher has stood up on his feet; unintentionally giving his exposed body a once over as the bare-assed witcher grabbed onto his leather pants, fumbling with the hem of it; looking out of the window as the sunshine hit his body in a staggering way. His derriere was phenomenal, the swell of his ass was remarkable; out of this world and you couldn't believe that he'd actually...finally...let you have him.

Pulling out an all nighter didn't kept your curiosity still; even then, you planned and wanted to have another soon when you weren't sore enough, if he'd let you.

"Yeah," he stated in point of fact, receiving a panicking yelp from you when he'd turn around; his disrobed nature never disturbing him despite with you in the room, a daring gesture that he certainly didn't mind if you would stare because you were free to do so. Your reaction got his lips curled into a small grin, the sun making your bruised skin glow in ways that got him complimenting his work of art.

"---Until that weird Cicatrix of yours starts giving effects, the domineering lady would waver,"

Alas, the cicatrix was not giving you effects. But, just seeing him standing buck naked; had your will shaking from the time out you opted to happen. It was probably a bad idea to even suggest a short suspension of the activities he wanted to receive.

Three days have passed. After your nightly penetrating with the witcher and the morning after when you've hushed his off-colored ideas, you didn't know he would be so salty about it.

Geralt was still Geralt; silent, unobtrusive and basking in his own solitude with his horse at all times. Regardless of his normal behavior for wanting to be alone, you understood that it was already a part of his personality that you've known since the day you've arrived.

When you meant that you wanted a timeout, three days wasn't what you tried to point out. The burning coil stirring and pooling below your stomach calmed down in some way or another when you've given in to the desires it wanted. Hence, after that carnal desires it controlled; it wanted another thing as well. Though, this time around; no Cicatrix was controlling you to feel this way.

You wanted Geralt's attention after spending most of his time with Roach rather than his midget.

He wasn't entirely avoiding you at all costs, pushing you off the side or something like that but his gestures were minimal especially with Jaskier and Cirilla hanging around. No hugs, no kisses or no touches when you both were surrounded with his family's presence especially that they had guesses about what happened that night.

Jaskier knew it all and heard what happened. With all the grunts and hushed moans in the middle of that particular night, he blamed himself for telling Geralt to just give in when he would've realized that his room was beside his. The constant whump of Geralt's headboard hitting the adjoined walls that he had with his made the bard grab all his pillows, deciding that it was better to sleep on the hallways instead.

Geralt's withdrawn behavior was a run-of-the-mill habits of him. You were beginning to ask yourself if it has ever been a dream; the nightly ravish and torrid kisses that has happened, but you were wrong because you've woken up one time in the middle of the night with the witcher behind you as you slept on his bed, feeling his burly arm surround your waist, and unexpectedly spooning you to sleep.

You knew it was him because you've jerked from his sudden touch; in the midst of a nightmare that got your heart palpitating as you turned in your sleep. He heard your troubled whimper, taking a peek from behind your back to see if you were deep in your slumber. You were, but he'd heard your heart beat abnormally thumping louder like you were being chased and the latter knew you were caught up in a nightmare.

He gently pulled you around, turning you to face him as you've unconsciously flutter your eyes open, seeing burnt out glowing amber eyes which made you thoughtlessly cuddle closer to his neck. Humane, baritone shushes rocked you to sleep, feeling more protected that you wouldn't have a nightmare of being chased by monsters anymore now that Geralt was beside you.

Be that as it may, his actions were baffling you because after that nightly cuddle session, he was out of doors; never telling you where he went as he came back home at around nightfall without anyone telling you where he went; not that Jaskier and Cirilla knew because they also had no idea where the he went.

Here you thought, witchers can't be petty over such a little thing.

Surprisingly, Geralt was going to be the living proof that they knew how to act like one. It was like he was having a manly period and acting complicated was one of the effects; would chocolates simmer his pettiness down? you doubt.

"Hmm." The witcher was crouched beside his horse; giving her a look before scanning through a half ripped parchment paper that had an awful sketch of his face and yours; one he had retrieved from the guards that tried to forcefully take him when he was away to hunt a Bruxa.

He heard your soft padded footsteps coming down the stairs. Geralt knew it was yours because you had your own pattern; like it was a pebble being thrown in the water. Faint, gentle patters that only you can do in the perimeters of his household. Thusly, he kept the paper close to him, slipping it through the band of his pants as he rose to his feet; the sound of your feet taking a hesitant step close once he'd felt you nearby. You were hesitating, shy or probably thinking too deeply again.

Hence, your bashful company has lifted a suppressed smile on the witcher's face before it fell in just a hot second.

"My...sweetheart of a witcher," You coyly poked through his silence, taking heedful steps close. Your boots lightly scraping along the pastureland, trudging to where you could see Geralt and his broad shoulders.

The endearment you had for him struck an involuntary cringe. He swiftly turned on his heel, facing you with his eyebrows tightly scrunched together like he didn't know what to truthfully feel about the whole pet name. You gave him an unimpressed fall of your forced smile, completely nonplussed that he seemed to be peeved.

"What's with that face? You don't like it? Is it that too cringey? you looked like you've seen Barney and realized he was an awful, scary dinosaur for the children!"

Geralt exhaled a breath out of his mouth before peering down at you; disregarding your modern references for now because he knew it was a banter, his eyes doing that beautiful narrowed smolder that made you want to smack his face...with your lips.

"You're doing it too."

You snobbishly crossed your arms across your chest, shrugging off the timidness as you held your head up high. Literally. The compelling sarcasm drizzling out of your mouth as you declared, drawling out your words like it sounded seething and with emphasis as Geralt couldn't help but tilt his head to the side, considering the snark that you wanted him to be aware of.

"Fine. I'm ticking that out. Honey, then? Cause you're as sweet as honey then became too salty and tried spending more time with Roach rather than your midget."

Who was petty about being subtly ignored now?

Y-O-U.

Geralt shifted his weight on both feet, the glint in his eyes telling you that he was finding the topic rather amusing when you're all riled up for being out of his reach. He'd done that for you. Isn't that what you wanted? space? a timeout? yet, why were you being mad about it then?

"My darling witcher," you started again with a pinch of sugar; the endearment sounding like a threat when you've seen his eyes subtly scanning your clothes. He'd given you a scowl. His gaze felt heavily dragging as he bore in mind at the image of your taut, hardening nipples that was poking through the tube part of your dress.

The crisp breeze of the wind passed through the air, licking up your spine that ignited a reflex from your perky breasts, your dress more see-through as Geralt inspected such a modest outfit which you never worn ever.

Nevertheless, its effects that you wanted to portray through the outfit got him eager for what plans you hold; appearing to be so innocent, demure and sweet with that princess-like sleeveless dress. You had plans. Cunning plans for the witcher, indeed. Sometimes, that naivity running in your veins contradicts with the threatening tone that somehow slips through your mouth; like a bane from a baby snake because of how innocuous you wanted it to be told.

Your innocence somehow had ulterior motives and dark shadows behind your cherub face and small height.

"Stop it." Geralt lowly grumbled in protest, the sight of your nipples stirring the heat inside his pants. You've caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling in disbelief, making you exclaim out loud, "I'm squeezing so hard for your sweetness to come out, Geralt. Pay heed for my effort, will ya'?"

The latter loudly sighed, turning on his booted heel to brush through Roach's mane; he tried to ignore your get-up. But, the dress was doing magnificent effects to your whole being. You were as pretty as a picture, captivating on its finest because of how effeminate its design was decorating your body.

Geralt gave you another once over, probably staring a little bit too long for his 'self-control' to shake.

"You're wearing a dress." he uttered a little bit dull for you to accept. Words frothing with lethargy as he continued to give his attention more to his horse that made you withhold a huff because of how you were feeling disregarded.

You went all the way out; wearing a pretty dress just for the witcher and here he was, brushing off your presence like he didn't like what he was seeing. You were sure you were dolled up from head to foot; even had Cirilla helping you tie the strings behind your back to keep your stomach in tact.

Jaskier even had a good start of the day to send compliments when all you've receive from him was insults; his words noting that you were looking rather feminine and pretty with the dress you've bought back in the marketplace and the witcher here couldn't even look straight into your eyes nor give you the attention you've been hoping for?

Your face fell from his lackadaisical response, eyeing Geralt in dismay who still had his back face-front. You were thoroughly disheartened, shoulders slumping while you stood beside the towering white wolf; voice sounding nasally from how dispirited you've felt.

"You sound like you're telling me I look like a whale in this pretty cute dress with that scowl on your face---Thank you for your kind honesty, my lord."

Geralt sauntered around Roach where his bag has been strapped to his horse, you've tailed behind him like a puppy. He rummaged through his leather bag, mumbling his reply in his most sluggish tone like a wiseacre.

"You want something from me. Obviously." he bluntly commented, digging in his bag for a thing he bought from Babeth.

You cocked your head to the side, shrugging your shoulders when you've heard Roach neigh through your honest confession induced with sheer sarcasm.

"Your attention.It’s what I only need! What else? It's like begging to a rock, I swear. You don't even hold my hand, give me back hugs, kiss me on my forehead like in the movies or those sweet gestures that men usually do. Roses! Daisies! Love letters! But, does your world have roses though?---What? you screw me all night in one day---wrecking my punani then ignore me the next? excuse me, Mr. Casanova---"

He briefly ceased his ransack, sparing you a glimpse of his impervious amber eyes; silently asking if you were actually serious with this complaining of yours before quickly revoking the admission with a snort.

"---Pfft. Okay. I'm shutting up."

Geralt went back on digging through his bag pockets, his thick fingers seeming to give him a difficult time as he couldn't help but deeply groan to himself, the scowl etching on his face growing tighter when he couldn't seem to find it. In the midst of searching through his bag, he could hear your toes softly tapping on the ground alongside with your fingers lacing behind your back and tapping against each other while you get a hold of what you were about to actually ask; like a child asking permission from her guardian.

"Jaskier and Cirilla will be visiting Cuthbert," you quietly started, uncertain of what his answer would because the last time you've tried jumping out of their household, he came home entirely maddened over the fact that you were wandering around the woods at night. However, today you would dawdle through the woods in the morning.

"---Can I come with?"

He talked under his breath, "No. Stay."

You slightly turned your head, jutting your ear his way because it sounded like an incoherent rumble of his voice that you didn't quite believed to hear and so, you repeated; much clearer and with emphasis.

"Jaskier told me they'll be bringing Kolby with them so he could wander around a little bit. If a Hirikka can come with them. Then, I suppose I can---"

Geralt cut you off in a curt manner, "Stay." he repeated his word more gruffly than the rest.

You instantly pouted from the dismissal of your request, glowering back at the witcher who was turning a deaf ear; still going through his stuff as he kept silent which caused you to sulk because of how he couldn't seem to get the bottom of why you were being petty like him.

"I thought you needed to do some monster hunting again?"

A strand of silvery hair fell from the side of Geralt's temple as he simply turned to give you an indescribable look in his eyes, tight-lipped but not much of a scowl and close enough towards a frown as he gruffly asked.

"Do you want me to leave?"

An immediate answer was sent to him; a hasty shake of your head as your features turned rigid while you quickly didn't hesitate to answer, "N-No! Of course, not!"

"Then, no. I'm not leaving you." he nonchalantly aforementioned. Finger brushing off a metal string he was finding for.

Geralt decided to stay a little longer before he went out and about to search for the Bloedzuiger he needed to annihilate for the town. He'd given Durriken a two week deadline before he finds the beast in the swamps. Though, the witcher didn't expect to actually take him a week before going on his way to kill this monster because he'd estimated his hunt to only be four days tops. Howbeit, he was stalling and chose to hunt for the bruxa that Jaskier lately mentioned near the ruins and close enough for him to go home when he wants to.

The white haired witcher never puts a brake with his job because he knew that this was the lives of people they were talking about. Yet, when he has encountered the chevaliers of Kaedwen, hunting for the Bloedzuiger that his old friend has requested somehow took him more than a week before actually starting his pursuit.

The day after tomorrow. Geralt would start to find this monster in the south swamps.

"You're not really going to let me go?" you utter so suddenly, huffing out a frustrated breath because you felt like you were being quarantined after the whole incident. It was fine if Geralt was thoughtful enough to entertain you; giving you a little slip of what was running inside his mind, talking to you instead of his horse and a lot more that could serve as entertainment for you.

There were no television, wifi, computers or places you know that were safe to jog in without being eaten by their monsters.

He clipped his bag shut, his fist closed as you tried peeking to what he was holding but his big hands made it difficult to snoop around. Geralt was tightly clutching onto the thing he was holding that made you cross your arms for the second time around, your eyes giving him a glare that didn't move him because he knew you weren't actually mad; just annoyed.

"Fine! I've wasted using a dress then. You know I never like wearing this type of clothes!"

"You're also wearing that because you have other things in your mind,"

Yes, it was to keep Geralt's eyes only on you and not his horse; trying to stir whatever you could for him to never leave your sight.

You rolled your eyes; trying not to appear like you were caught like a deer in headlights, "Great, now you're wanting to be adopted by the x-men or avengers," pause. "---You read minds now too?"

The latter softly exhaled a breath out of his nose. His muscles straining against the black under tunic he wore; sleeves folded till the ends of his elbows that accentuated those protruding veins in his forearms that looked so powerful and strong. You cleared your throat when he'd crossed his arms, the ends of his lips faintly curling when he'd lean his head to the side, quietly watching you fret.

You gave him a nod, misunderstanding his silence that he was trying to shoo you away, anxiously biting the insides of your cheeks, looking straight into his eyes as you thought out loud, "Alright, I'm not going to leave the house. I'll...try and find ways to spend the time,"

Turning around your heel, you were ceased from doing so as strong, thick and warm fingers held onto your shoulder; halting you from leaving him alone. Your heart skipped a beat as he did, his touch sending a bolt towards your stomach, electrifying the butterflies living inside to wake up.

"Wait." Geralt suddenly rasped.

"Did you change your mind now---"

You've tried to turn around, eyes hopeful that he wanted you to stay. His strong hand held you still. Silver met silver as it chimed from behind, a tiny grinding of metals faintly crashing against each other before you heard another grumble of curse words from the witcher who towered from behind.

As blasphemy left his lips, a string of metal looped around your neck followed after. His incoherent babbles quite fathomable as you could hear and comprehend that he doesn't do this kind of shit, complaining why did he even bought such a thing. Another low rumble of the word 'fuck' was all it took for Geralt to impatiently clasp onto the lock with his patience running low, taking him five tries before successfully connecting the hook; his thick fingers awfully difficult for the small jewelry to hold onto.

"Geralt," you were stunned, looking down to see the necklace that has caught your eye back at the marketplace.

It was still glowing like it used to, the coral green color beautifully twinkling against the sunlight. With an excited turn of your heel, you were feet close with the witcher; peering down with a compassionate haze in his eyes that made you grab onto the stone that lay before the valley of your breasts. His fingers still clasped on your shoulder, "This is---this was the fae necklace from Babeth. How did you know?"

Geralt avoided the question with a lick of his lips, taking a glimpse down at the necklace before staring back onto your face. The stone complimenting your glow that only you could radiate, "It'll suit you." Pause. "---The necklace also serves as an amulet to keep you out of harms way,"

"How did you know I liked this?"

You were dumbfounded; peepers quizzical and gaping at the colossal hunk of a witcher. He looked around the field as he breathed, trying to form words that he wanted to say but chose the savory answer of what he actually meant.

"I....just know," he trailed off, warmth trying to embrace you in solace when he let his words flow like a boat sailing in the ocean, smooth and steady; also direct to the point.

"---Your wishes for a man who could offer you a lavish life will never be granted. I can never be the man in your fantasies, midget. I'm not what you think I am; a prince or some nobleman in this world. I’m the least you expect or hope for,"

His jaw ticked as he continued to speak, amber eyes downcast as his face turned impassive; words turning slower than the usual, "I try not to be what they say I am after years end," pause. "---I am not entirely evil nor am I good. I've done things far more worse than any kind person would wail about. People have considered me as a monster for relevant reasons because I've killed their kind with my sword---specifically, fiendish people as I see fit,"

"---But, If I could choose one evil or another, I prefer not to choose at all."

Geralt never broke his gaze away, nor did you find any lies beneath the windows of his soul. Every word he say was the truth as he tries to truly explain what he was in their world, sending a message that he was the boogeyman living inside your closet or a monster haunting you under your bed. The horrible type of personification of what he actually was. Yet, you never see him as one.

With all words that has been said, you couldn't learn to despise him because you knew he was beyond more than that. Important. Valuable and also needed to be shown that ill will and animosity aren't the only sarcastic good that every world can offer. There was kindness; in which he shows no matter how he didn't seem to be aware of. Care. Love. Hope. Eternal happiness.

You knew your heart was screaming it; silently shouting back at the witcher that there was more to the world that it can ever offer and you aspire to be that person to show him what it is he seem to be rejecting.

The latter was heedful of how gentle you were gazing up at him. Thus, he continued, mindless that he was lost in his dismal thoughts of the life that was given to him, "The whole continent, they despise my kind and where ever I go, shit happens all the time,"

Geralt seemed to grit his teeth, humming in displeasure when his features curved into a wince for whatever he had to say next, "---It's the fucking destiny that was bound for me,"

A sudden heavy feeling crept inside your chest; crawling towards your throat and triggering you into throwing a hissy fit of sobs that pushed the tears falling right before your eyes. The abrupt shift from feeling sympathy turned into a mournful midget. Tears being an answer that you were with Geralt in this for whatever he was fighting for; having no idea that his fight could be total carnage and here you thought he was just like Bucky in the Marvel Universe.

People calling him that he's a villain when he certainly isn't because he was brainwashed or had no other choice.

Perhaps, Geralt could be like it. He'd done some kind of evil because he had no other choice too.

He could be a monster but also a hero.

"Why...are you crying?" the white wolf didn't know what to do. Should he hug you? wipe your tears? do men in your world do that when a woman cries? Geralt just stood tall and stiff beside Roach who had stepped back till she had her head close to him.

For anything Geralt can ever look for a horse, she'd somehow neighed and nudged his face; promptly hitting the witcher on the side of his face which caught him off-guard; quickly glaring at his horse as she offered another clear whinny which got another piercing glare from the man himself.

"I don't even know! I think it's because you're also feeling this way but you're not the one crying!"

You were in the midst of expressing your feelings. Your impulsive self hastily grabbing onto Geralt's hand that had him raising a quizzical brow. He momentarily took a glimpse of your fingers lacing in between the spaces of his. He'd never remembered that he had done such a thing before; holding hands while standing in the middle of the meadow, his hand that has tasted blood from different kinds of living creatures or people.

Those sensitive, delicate and sinless fingers of yours gripping his; connecting and enveloping against each other as one. He'd never expected for it to feel this way.

It was quite satisfying and calming; making him feel like he was protecting you in some ways because of how his palms were rather large against yours.

You sniffed your cries away, roughly wiping them with the back of your free hand. Stepping more to his side; his height towering beside your small form as you have given Geralt a look of query, "Why are you holding my hand, Geralt?"

It was a ridiculous joke that laced with sarcasm. He didn't seem to decipher what you meant and heard him sigh with a suppressed smile on his face; fighting off the beam.

"I didn't. You held onto it in the first place,"

"Oh, right. Heehee!" you simply shrugged your shoulders and puckered your lips, giggling after seeing the smile rising those tight-lips. You've waved the awkwardness off as the witcher didn't seem to know what holding hands meant. Add the fact that his hold didn't seem tight and comfortable.

"Isn't holding hands a thing in this world of yours?"

"No." He simply answered, wondering if he needed to clasp his hands tighter. Geralt was about to when you've patted his fingers to relax and grope yours, eventually slackening.

"Oh. Okay. Then, hold me like you're scared to let go, Geralt."

The white wolf mutely complied to your satisfaction; warmth that his hand could provide felt so secure as his grip turned firm like he never did wanted to let go if possible. He tipped his head to the side, watching your face contort into a felicitous image that he had already seen; recognizing the smile that he has seen in the dream that the Djinn wanted him to see.

A dream where he was also smiling the same way as you did.

You were definitely in a more jovial mood after receiving such an adorable gift from the witcher; gifts that he certainly wasn't used to giving, gestures that make him uncomfortable but he tries his best to show that he wasn't what people think he really is and that mindset was enough for your heart to jump in felicity. You've tightened your intertwined fingers.

"There. Better!"

Geralt heard the faint rustle of the winds; hitting you both in a chilling phantasm of the air hugging you in the cold. He heard a twig break from the far distance, it was imperceptible to the ears of a normal human; but not to him.

This wasn't the only time he'd heard things out of the ordinary, some were harmless animals but mostly were beasts that could harm people when hungry. The sound was faint and stealthy; sounding like this beast didn't want to be seen nor caught.

His head snap to where the sound came from, seeing nothing but an extensive lineage of trees swaying from left to right. You've given Geralt a look of doubt, seeing him narrowing his eyes at the far end of the meadow. A simple shake of your hands interlaced together interfered his perusal of something or someone lurking from behind the woods.

"Geralt, come on! I need to show you something and it's about Kolby! He's acting weird!" you tugged onto his hand, walking forward as you tried your hardest to pull his weight; he knew you couldn't and so his concern flew right above his head when you've looked back with those pleading doe-eyes of yours, receiving not anything less than a hum from Geralt as he'd fully had his attention diverted because of you.

"Hmm."

ANOTHER SMUT WILL BE ON CHAPTER 15.1 WHICH WILL BE UPDATED NEXT WEEK, OF COURSE! HEHEHEHEHE. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! CAN I JUST SAY THAT I WANT TO BE THE READER SO BAD?

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferblog @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3 @gutfucks

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza

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roraruu · 4 years

Text

wip: someday

Marianne is 23 when her parents see her again. She sees nothing but a scarred man and a woman in a veil.

It is some years since they left Marianne in the care of Margrave Kliff von Edmund; since she had left behind her surname Thatcher, her beloved farmlands in northern Leicester. In the time parted, hearts have only grown fonder—at least, Python and SIlque’s have.

In those long years parted from Marianne, they have travelled this land of sorrow. From the rolling fields of Gloucester, up to the frozen wastelands of Kleiman and to the sandy beaches and port towns of Nuvelle. Python’s curse of the Beast has faded with time, night terrors and turnings into a beast going from every fortnight to once every red moon. He has begun work once again as a carpenter. And Silque all the while has held tight to her faith in the Goddess and Seiros and her disciples.

There was a time though, not too far off, that they had been separated. Shortly after they had left Marianne with Silque’s half brother, the curse had taken a tight hold of Python, clenching him in it’s fist. He had been separated from Silque for some time. But when they had first agreed to share their life together, they agreed to meet in the cathedral of Garreg Mach monastery should they ever be separated.

And they had. Python, overgrown and shaggy, dead tired from walking the entire way, and Silque, thin and exhausted with worry from him. First, their eyes had met, just as they did when he heard her singing on that moonless night, and then she collided into him.

Now, they reside in the monastery, as they had done once long ago. Silque works in the monastery as a cleric, Python works as a carpenter and tradesman in the town below. In the evenings, as they did when they were young, they’ll meet in the cathedral and walk about the grounds, as if nothing has ever changed.

(And thanking his curse for the new scars and shaggy look he now sports, Python is unrecognized by those from Abyss.)

In the letters that Kliff sent—and those that actually arrived due tot he frequent changing of addresses—Silque and Python learnt of what became of their daughter. She grew up shy and distraught, believing that her bloodline was a curse and that brought no good to others. Through the years, the portrait of a self-loathing daughter was painted.

The paints of blue and hues of brown and black adorned their daughter. The Margrave was not a doting guardian, but both of them knew he did his best. And when the war broke out and Silque and Python were in the Empire looking for a physician into his Crest, and a letter arrived, saying that Marianne had fled off into the night, Silque collapsed.

They feared the worst, they feared she was dead and that all had been for naught. Leaving her in the care of her uncle, fleeing Leicester, attempting long surgeries and treatments that did little but scar Python... It had all been for nothing but pain.

But then a letter arrived, after the Emperor engaged the King and emerged victorious. That Marianne herself had been at the battle, been on the Emperor’s side, and that she would inherit Edmund.

And Silque and Python had been elated with such news. But they felt they could not reenter their daughter’s life after such a long time away. It would be cruel, selfish, impulsive.

“Are you thinking about her?” Silque asks as they sit in a pew. The hard wood beneath them creaks with every movement, every breath. Once, long ago, the holy spells protec thing the cathedral would have deterred Python. Now he almost seems to enjoy it, since the zealots and prying nobles have left.

“Yeah. You?” He glances to her.

Silque nods once, her veil swaying with her movements. “There isn’t a moment where I don’t think about her.” She whispers.

“You think it’s our fault?” He murmurs. “Think she resents us?”

Her hand tightens around his. “I don’t think so.” Silque says. “I hope she’s not that kind of person.”

“She was raised by your brother—“

Silque looks up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Python snorts a little, earning a glare from nearby saints and priests, who are lighting the candles for the evening. The rubble has been cleared away after the attack on the monastery, and reconstruction has begun. He turns his gaze to the clerics who light the candles and smirks a little. “Your brother is an asshole. Resentful asshole.”

“He’s troublesome, yes but—“

“He was speaking incantations when you said that I was your boyfriend.”

Silque frowns. “He’s just protective of me.” She insists, then adds, “Keep your voice down, the clergy values quiet.”

“Yes, Saint Silque, thank you for your holy insight.” Python murmurs playfully.

SIlque can’t help but smile a little. Age has treated her well, turning her baby blue hair grey, making the smile that she shares readily all the sweeter, and sharpening the playful glint behind her eyes. But age has been cruel to Python, marking his skin with scars from nights wandering the woods and being fended off with swords. His hands bear the brunt of it, from monstrous paws to being a pincushion for splinters and whacked with hammers. His hair has darkened with grey, fading from blue and black to such a sad shade. And his eyes, which have seen hinterlands and haunts which only live in storybooks.

“I don’t think she resents us. She’s too kind.” Silque muses. Her thumb brushes against the back of his hand. “Kliff says that she believes—“ she catches herself, her brow crinkling, “Believed, in the goddess deeply. She must believe in forgiveness.”

“You think she’ll try to find us?”

“Kliff said we died.”

Python’s brow raises. “Really?”

“I suppose it was to keep her from searching for us.” Silque says.

“I know he’d like me dead—“

“Hush,” Silque rests her other hand over his. She gives him a smile before reaching up and brushing his scarred cheek with her cracked hand.

As Silque begins to say her evening prayers, Python’s hand leaves hers. She looks up and sees what he sees.

A blue-haired girl, with her head held high, looking up to the moonless sky above and speaking prayers. A similar thought sparks in their heads—could it be? Is it her? The little girl who told her father that she could talk to the birds? The young girl who asked her mother’s surname?

She reaches for him, hands clambering for any sort of semblance of him to hold onto. A cuff, a shoulder, the cotton of his work pant. Her heartbeat pounds in her chest and she feels like an invisible string is pulling her to this girl.

But Python holds her back as she mumbles her prayers and others begin to look at her oddly. Silque and Python settle back into their seats, watching as a ginger-haired young man approaches and touches her shoulder. She turns around with a warm smile and in his bright voice, they hear the name they’d spoken in quiet for sixteen long years.

“My darling Marianne, shall we go?”

And turning to face this young man, Silque catches a glimpse of her daughter. Her deep brown eyes are warm with love. Her lips curve into a soft smile. And her baby blue hair—just like hers—is braided into a beautiful crown.

“Yes, I’m finished my prayers now. Let’s go Ferdinand.” Her voice is delicate and soft. Even softer than Silque’s.

The cleric feels a hot flush of maternal joy and guilt. Joy for how kind and wonderful her daughter is, and guilt for not having been able to share in it. She almost reaches out for her daughter, but she feels Python’s grip on her hand tighten.

For a second, she thinks of running after her. All it would take is a look, and the gentle whisper of “my sweet Marianne” before she would realize. And at last, they would be a family again. And they could all exist in the same portrait, painted together once again.

But instead, tears roll down Silque’s face as Python holds her hand. “She thinks we’re dead.” He remarks coldly. “We don’t want to shock her, right?”

Silque shakes her head. “We do not.”

“Someday.” He promises her.

“Someday,” she whispers back. And in her mind, as her daughter walks away with some strange man, she thinks Someday we’ll be together again my sweet Marianne.

#forbidden ship #silque #python #marianne #marianne forbidden ship kid au #ru writes #im sad and yes this is bc mari got into heroes get ready for my team of +10 python #+10 Valentines silque and then a tiny crappy marianne together ready to take down gods #im living

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minichedders · 6 years

Text

princess

bodyguard!tom holland x reader

Tom followed you everywhere, it was his job too, and he was good at it. Not once in the day did he ever let his eyes slip from you, watching you carefully, analysing every move, every step and every expression with keen eyes. He felt a rush whenever your eyes would meet, which was a rare occasion considering the circumstances.

Tom was way over his head. He was foolish. You where the princess, you would never settle for anything less than a prince, and even if you wanted Tom, you were betrothed to marry another Prince to strengthen the nationalities relationships.

Prince James of Papua New Guinea. Tom scoffed, what a piss poor excuse for a man; he was selfish, lazy and didnt even care about the moral respect of women. He had visited you twice since the engagement, and Tom watched with his insides twisting at the sight of James' clammy, fat fingers touching your precious skin; and every time James got too close, your eyes searched for his, crying out for help; which was Tom only favourite part of his visit he enjoyed, the sheer need you begged from him.

He found you insatiable, beautiful beyond words, and you fit in with the luxury of the royal life, but still remained as kind as humble as ever. Every day you went around the palace, greeting everyone who walked past and made your way tot he kitchens to help the chefs cook, to which they openly obliged, against the Queens wishes. The queen was tight-lipped, old fashioned and downright rude, especially to you; she hated and disciplined ou whenever you would openly converse with anyone lower than you, or involved yourself with common charity events or fairs; she had her head too far up her ass to see that every harsh word she spoke brought tears prickling to your eyes, which maddened Tom.

Which was happening right in front of him? Himself and the Queen's guard both stood in the corners of the Queens living area, watching the conversation, more like an argument, roll out in front of them, the uncomfortable atmosphere scratching at Toms' neck.

"You can't get out of this marriage Y/N, I've told you millions of times," The Queen sneered, rolling her eyes at her daughter. Every day you went to your mother, begging relentlessly not to marry you off to an old hag, but she never prevailed.

"Please mother, do you not care about love? about my happiness? I don't want to marry someone i don't love," You cried, your hands flying in crazy gestures, your checks heating, trying to control your tears as they threatened to cross your eye line.

"You will grow to love him Y/N," The Queen sighed, pulling the blue and white fine china cup to her lips, slurping at the fresh tea she had her maid pour, which you had poured your own. The wedding was in 3 months, but the buzz of both nations had been roaring on for the last 5. Your mother had put you through multiple wedding events to try and sway your mind, creating your perfect, grande white wedding that you had always dreamed off, but you didnt want this. You had to marry to keep the power, not just of the other nations, but you couldn't inherit the throne without a King by your side.

"I highly doubt it mother," You sneered, landing the china teacup rather harshly on the matching plate.

"You're merely a young girl, what do you know about love, about ruling a country, at least tell me one of the loyal decrees for goodness sake, you are not fit to rule by your self,"

"I'll study!" You cried, "I can learn, you can be my teacher, and i can marry who i want, for love. Give me three months to learn everything you know,"

"You can't learn it all within three months child," The Queen's voice was quiet, her tone changing from unforgiving to sad.

"Tell you what Y/N, if you can find someone else you love within three months, someone suitable and worthy, I will cancel the wedding," The queen said, your eyes immediately turned to capture Toms, a slight blush creeping to your face, "But, you had to attend classes every Wednesday and Saturday to learn how to be a proper princess, which means no cooking, and you make time for Prince James,"

"Deal"

Tom had watched you wander around aimlessly for a whole month, you head dizzy and unfocused ever since you made the deal with your mother. Every man you had met with, Tom hated. He couldn't help it, but he just wanted to scream at you and take you in his arms. He was right in front of you and you were being blinded by the sun.

Your body fell onto your bed, a deep sigh leaving your stained red lips. Your body was sore from your date, where Knight Ben had decided that ice skating would be romantic, but you feel at least 7 times, and Tom was there to pick you up more than Ben was. Toms kind eyes floated in your mind more than you would admit to yourself, every time you caught his eye your hands grew sweaty and they began to shake, he was the most gentle, kind and handsome man you had met, and you thought every night if your mother would think he was suitable enough to marry, because he was the only one you wanted.

"Tom," You spoke, your voice unsure of its self as you stared at the intricate designs of your bedroom ceiling. Toms footsteps echoed in your ear, getting closer to your laying body. Both of you felt dizzy.

"Yes, your highness?" Tom asked. Every time someone had addressed you by your royal title, you cringed, your stomach flipping in the most uncomfortable way, but when it fell from Toms' lips you couldn't suppress the whimper that fell from your unwilling lips.

"Do you think I'm crazy? Thinking I can't find love in three months?" You asked, your head turning and eyes meeting his. Tom could notice the way your breath was shaky, as your eyes watered slightly, and the sight made him want to wrap you in his arms and cradle until he died.

"If i may be so bold to say, your highness, I think you know you are," tom laughed, trying to lighten your mood and make you smile, and when he saw your lips curve upwards for the first time in months his heart skipped a beat.

"True," You replied, staring back at the ceiling. You sat in silence for a moment, before you stood, grabbing Toms' hands and interlocking your fingers together, dragging him outside to the garden. Tom was about to protest, but the feeling of your warm skin so close to his made him speechless, he felt like a nursery boy, madly in love with the most popular girl in school.

Toms' mouth opened, before you shut him off, "Don't talk, please Tom, i just want to enjoy this quietly," Your voice was soft and quiet, and Tom obliged with no questions asked.

Both of you walked slowly around the garden, the sunlight setting, a dark orange hue painted across the sky, shining through the spring branches of the tall trees, and letting the colourfull garden flowers glow. You sat on the edge of the fountain piece, closing your eyes as you listened to the gentle trickle f the smooth water flow, mixed with the chirping birds and the gentle hum of the wind. Toms body sat next to you, hands still interlocking in your lap; he wanted nothing more but to just confess his undying feelings for you right there, but the pain in your face made him ache to comply to your no talking rule.

"Tommy," You whispered, quiet enough that Tom would've missed it if he wasn't so fixed intently on your lips. He hummed in response, looking back to your know open eyes, deep swirling pools of brown searching into your soul.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," Your eyes cast downwards, taking a deep breath in.

"Uh, I was thinking about how beautiful you are, how every man you have met is a fool not to be head over heels for you, and how much i want to kiss you right now," Tom spoke, his thumb now rubbing against your skin, causing goosebumps in their wake. You felt as if you were dreaming, hearing all the words you had wanted ever since you and Tom met, your breath twitched inside your throat.

"Why won't you?" You asked, still refusing to bring your eyes up to meet his. Your hands were shaking, which Tom noticed from the tight grip he had on you, he watched as you brought your other hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Tom brought his hands u to your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes, you had never felt so adored by a man before, and the way that Tom looked at you made your heart leap; but you where still so nervous about how powerful your feelings where about Tom, and how you just knew your mother would disapprove.

Time seemed to be distant, non-existent as you watched Tom lean forward, his breath against your lips, your heart now thumping widely in your chest. You looked deep into his eyes and down to his pink lips, as you followed his actions and eaned in as well, capturing his lips in for a sweet, meaningful kiss.

The two of you stayed locked together, Toms hands around your waist and you're wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you continued making out. Tiny moans and whimper came from your lips as grunts fell from his, both of you wanting and needing as much a the other could give, you felt as if Toms' lips brought you to cloud nine, as if you had fallen into heaven, soaring through pink fluffy clouds as your body experienced the tingles he sent through.

"I love you Y/N," Tom whispered, breaking his lips away from yours. You couldn't help but smile uncontrollably, laughing and blushing as he watched you deeply.

"I love you too, Tommy," You replied, pulling him back in for a short and sweet kiss.

"Now, whos going to tell my mother?" You said, laughing at Toms horrific facial expression, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you on his lap, eager to remain locked together for the rest of eternity.

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akhmenawkward · 5 years

Text

Uncertain: Snafu Shelton x Reader

Request: Hello! :D I’m absolutely in love with your writing! ( I just wanted to say that first. :3) But I was wondering if you could do an Snafu fluff, with the raider beating somebody he found on the battlefield and now has fallen in love with her, but she doesn’t know to return the feelings? But then it works out somehow XD. I know it’s stupid but I really want you of all to write it ^-^“ Sorry for bothering! :D

It was silent. For the first time in days there was no other sound than the snoring of sleeping marines, and the quiet sleepy mumbles they spoke as they had a nightmare. Often somebody would scream, waking up from a horrid nightmare, and realizing they were okay. Well, at least for the moment.

But Snafu couldn’t sleep.

His eyes roamed over his surroundings as his friends took their chance to get some rest. He envied their peaceful snores, and there heaving chest, and he desperately wanted to close his eyes too, but he couldn’t. Every time these he closed his eyes, images of the battlefield, people dying, the sound of rifles and mortars filled his mind. It was too much for him, and the best thing he could do now, was to watch over his friends.

His eyes were focused on the dark sky above him. His hands were behind his head, supporting as he leaned back against the edge of the hole they were sitting in. Surrounding him were about 12 others, filled with marines, weapons and ammunition.

He sighed deeply, eyes focussed on the sky. The clouds had passed, and the only thing visible were the bright stars, with in the corner of his eye a beautiful full moon.

“H-Help…”

He shot up at the sound of a voice. It was faint, and he wasn’t sure if he heard it or not. His hand grabbed his rifle as a reflex while he sat up slightly.

“Help!”

The voice was now loud and clear, and it sounded like someone was suffering. He scanned his surroundings, looking for something unusual.

“Who’s there?!” He yelled into the night, making several other marines groan. One of his friends mumbled something in his sleep, and turned away from Snafu. He took a second to glance at some other holes, but he quickly averted his eyes back to the battlefield in front of him when a small voice responded.

“P-please help… I’m injured…”

He looked at one of the holes beside him. There was a guy awake, and smoking a cigarette. The half lidded guy snorted at Snafu, clearly battling against exhaustion by the look of his red eyes. He raised his eyebrows at Snafu’s tense posture, then snorted.

“It’s a trap, Snaf.”

Snafu scoffed, and ignored his comment. He quietly escaped the hole, and jogged towards the battlefield with his rifle in his hands, pointing in front of him. His feet sunk into the mud of the wet underground, and he had a hard time keeping his pace.

Suddenly he saw something move from the corner of his eye. He turned to it, and pointed his rifle at the moving object. As he slowly neared it, he recognized the person crippling on the ground in pain, and quickly lowered his weapon.

“Inured one on second base!” He screamed back at the group, before quickly making his way towards you. The guy, previously warning him, suddenly shot up, before tapping a fellow marine harshly on the back of his helm, telling him to get help.

Snafu crouched down beside you, and inspected your appearance for injuries. You groaned in pain, and nodded your head towards your shoulder. He noticed your hand, harshly pressing on the blood seeping wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You’re gonna be okay. What’s ya name?” Snafu asked you, as he replaced your hand with his, and waited for the others to come help him carry you. Quick footsteps could be heard near you, and within seconds there was already a group of people surrounding you, with bandages and salt.

“I-It’s Y/n, from Love-company. My group has been assassinated. “

Snafu nodded, and motioned the rest to grab your legs as he carried you by your shoulders. You screamed in pain, but quickly tried to keep quiet by loudly grunting.

“Don’t ya worry, Y/n. We got you.”

*A few months later*

“”What do we do now?” What an-“

“…Idiot?” You finished Snafu’s mocking sentence, and he nodded at you. You agreed with his statement. Sledge handed you a bottle, filled with some kind of brown liquid. You had no idea what it contained, but at the moment you just wanted to get drunk.

After months of fighting and fighting, losing friends and strangers, the enemy had finally surrendered.

With that thought you took a big gulp of the bottle, and hummed in satisfaction as you felt the liquid burn your throat. Perhaps the danswater couldn’t erase the memories of this past year, for at least tonight you would be free.

Sledgehammer chuckled as you took another swig, grimacing at the vile taste of the liquid poison. Whistling, you offer Snafu the bottle, which he gladly takes. “Should we get back there and celebrate?” Sledge questions, nodding towards the singing and dancing soldiers, already drunk after bottles and bottles of rum and liquors.

“I don’t care. I just want to get drunk.” Snafu answered.

“Agreed.” You tell him, while climbing up the rock to sit beside the Cajun. Snafu continues to clench his thirst for escape, and downs almost half the bottle, before you steal it from his lips.

“I need this.” You smirked and took the rest, which had him snort at your brassy attitude. Sledge scoffed sarcastically and walked up tot the two of you. He grabbed the now empty bottle from your hand and held it up to meet his eye.

“I’ll go get us some more.” He announced, while leaving you and Snafu alone. For a moment it stayed silent, only the celebrating shouts of marines filling the air between you, but yet so silent with none of you speaking.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

He hummed, and shrugged. You quickly glanced at his appearance. His perfectly clean face stood out from his dirty uniform, and it made you smile slightly. His cigarettes and lighter poked out from his pocket, untouched and still ready to use.

“There’s so many things I’m thinking ‘bout.”

You only nodded, and nudged him with your shoulder.

“And yet so silent,” You stole a tiny flask peeking from him pocket, popped it open and began drinking once more, “Spill it, princess.”

Snafu chuckled, then sighed, as if he was going to regret answering to you.

“Have these last month meant anything to ya?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, and shrugged. You didn’t understand what he was getting at.

“I’m feelin’ things I never expected to feel.”

This made your eyes widen, and you almost spit out your drink. You turned to Snafu with a surprised expression, but he kept staring in front of him.

“D-Do you mean… between us?”

He sighed and nodded, slightly turning to you, but only to grab the flask from your hands.

“I’ve never been good at saying good byes, but this time it seems even harder,” You didn’t see him move, but suddenly a cigarette dangles from his lips, “It feels like my heart is ripping open my chest.”

You kept staring at him. He was acting so casual about it, and you didn’t understand why.

“I have feelings for ya, Y/n. But you’re going ya own way, and I’m going mine.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and you didn’t know how to respond. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He turned to you, and you finally noticed the sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.” You told him honestly to which he nodded.

“Don’t say a thing then.”

“But I wanna tell you I like you.”

His eyes widened in surprise, his body turned to yours, so he was now properly facing you.

“But I-I don’t know how…” You mumbled. He just stared at you. His bright blue eyes piercing into yours, waiting for another respond to his statement. He shook his head, and stood up. The bottle slipped from his hands, fell to the ground, and shattered against the rocks.

You flinched at the pieces of glass flying around, but you remain seated. You stared at Snafu in confusion, and he just stared back at you with confusion and regret painting his features.

“You don’t like me. Don’t pretend like you do.”

You felt a slight hint of irritation, as he scoffed and walked away from you. You followed him down the rock, trying to convince him to come back.

“Don’t walk away, Shelton.”

”I’ve said enough.”

You grabbed ahold of him, fingers tightening around his forearm, which finally turned him towards you.

“You’re a soldier, you don’t get to walk away,” You snap at him, which has annoyance wield up in his gaze, “Talk to me, as it’s only fair.”

He takes a drag from his cigarette, and blowed the grey clouds right in your face. It showed how he feels. The way he angrily flicked the ashes off his cig, and how the smoke slipped from between his clenched teeth.

“I told ya everything!”

You became frustrated at his stubbornness, and you grabbed his arm tighter. You pulled him closer, and connected your lips to his. Mouths crashed together, teeth banging against one another’s and noses bumping.

Snafu froze into the kiss, but suddenly took control, cupping your cheeks with his hands. You gasped at his sudden dominance, but melted into the kiss.

You eventually pulled apart, and stared into his eyes. They showed lust, but also frustration and sadness.

“This will never work, Y/n.”

You shook your head, grabbed his cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

“We’ll make it work.”

#Snafu Shelton #snafu shelton imagine #snafu shelton x reader #the pacific #the pacific imagine #the pacific x reader #imagine

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abripikuunah · 6 years

Text

Tomorrow In The Firework’s Edge (Part 1/?)

Authors: Abripikuuhnah and Matthew’s Poems

Ratings: R-17 (Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Future smut, Foul Language, Hints of Abuse.)

Words: 12,095

Notes: I want to give a huge shout out to my big brother, Kuya Mat, for helping me to edit, add scenes, and flesh out chapter even more to write this fic into reality . And to @xkanekitoukax , thank you for reading the story and criticizing it to help me improve the chapter and see which scenes I should draw (but not now I’m so sorry ToT) ! This fic won’t exist without out you guys!

My apologize to those people who waited for this fic. In all honesty, this was supposed to be posted a month ago but due to my computer and environmental problems which I will explain in a later post, this fic was supposed to have a neatly as much a professional illustrations alongside with it,so it have to be postponed. Unfortunately, I hate to say it but I can’t finish these illustrations and currently can’t show them to you right now. I will explain the problem here (x)

But never worries, if I finally finish the scenes, I’ll post them here too, so check out for that!

I’m very sorry though, I don’t want people to keep waiting,and I have to post this so I could move on and proceed to the next chapter.

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Ken Kaneki squinted his eyes and realized that it's already morning. He raised his wrist, looking at his watch just to find out that two more hours away until he reaches his destination. He yawns quietly and stretches his arms out a little bit, being mindful to the sleeping person beside him. His eyes peered through the window and looked at the view that has presented before his eyes. Just before the dreamless sleep, was the industrious city of Tokyo, now being replaced by the picturesque sight of the fields. He could see grains, leaves and flowers that has been wrapped in thick snow of late December . A dark hue of blue with a light tint of red that has painted the colors of the sky helped him to be put into ease. Taking out his favorite book, he took out his bookmarks and begins to read picking up where he left off. Morning dew has come... Warmth of his jacket. The smooth movements of the bus, soothing his mind in relaxing state, hearing the soft noise of the AC unit keeping down the passengers in a quiet slumber while dawn started to rise. A book in his hand where words convey a tragic story into life. Ah. A breather. Peace... A peace where he's free from all the horrible events is all he ever wanted, and he got it. It something that felt like surreal, like a fantasy, like a star that is a billion miles away from his grasp . Something that he imagined that is very imperceptible to occur in his life. An event he will always exaggerate about. But look at him now, he's sitting in a bus, wordlessly waiting for the vehicle to reach the town of Osaka. However, he noticed something when he can't concentrate on his book, statics darkens in his eyes, his mind into something else palpable . Of course... That thought will always stay as a dream. The word 'Peace' is just an obscenity to this pathetic world of his. In his world, his story flashes before his eyes .A furious mother, an uncompassionate Aunt, his best friend who is now in the hospital bed all because of his uselessness ,powerless , selfishness . A sea of blood and grief that was caused by no one else but himself. Brutal waves full of lugubrious screams forcefully drowning him into the depths of insanity. He was reminded that he will never have peace. His mind starts tormenting him with awful words again and again. He can't escape, he knows that very well. No matter how much he ran, or when his limbs are free from the shackles, his heart and soul wasn't ; Both are glued in guilt and depression. The pace of his breathing becomes quicker and quicker. He forcefully clamped both of his eyelids, trying to get himself together. 'It'll be over soon' a whisper reminded him. It'll be over soon. Soon... His mind repeats over and over again, reminding himself . And that 'Soon' will be tonight, where tonight will be the last night of his life. The last night he will witness this brutal world mocking him, and he'll take a leap to take himself and these demons disappear in the void with him . It'll be all over. How laughable. Pathetic is the best way to describe his whole being, his whole damn life . Just like the weather outside, despite the sunrise warming up the sky , everything in the ground, where dirt and garbages are left, the place where he belong is... So cold and so lonely. Leaning towards the window, Kaneki closes his eyes once more, resting his book atop of his lap and hopes to god he would never wake up and instead be drowned to death right now.

Unfortunately, the smell of coffee beans kicks him out of his stupor.

After he arrived at the bus station, Kaneki heard his stomach grumbling, telling him that it's time for breakfast. He doesn't really have a big appetite ,all he wanted to have was a warm cup of coffee and a light meal. Still, the overnight trip from the bus is enough to make him hungry. So he walks, exercising by strolling a bit in the streets of Osaka.

After a few minutes of walking through closed shops , he stops.

His nose picked up an aromatic smell of coffee . The strong daring scent lures him. His legs follows the fragrance like a compass until he found himself standing right infront of the cafe named 'Antieku'.

His eyes peers through the window finding a large amount of people inside, almost occupying the whole cafe. Well that's no surprise. Today is December 30, probably the last day where stores opens for the year. Most restaurants should be closed now; so having to eat in an aromatic cafe for breakfast doesn't sound inappreciable. Antique cups and platters are exhibited on top of the glass display. Vintage books are tucked through the shelves where customers are allowed to borrow a book whenever they wished. Waiters and waitresses scrambled all over the place, serving each of their patrons with politeness.

Rudely his stomach grumbles again , insisting himself to just go enter in, which he did.

As he was inside the cafe, a waiter greeted him but was too busy to usher him. So he looked around and thanked himself mentally for having the advantage of being a lone wolf. Right besides the window, he found a small table that's available for two persons where he can watch the busy roads outside the cafe. The spot is adequately nice , which he really liked.

After settling down and a waitress gave him quickly a menu, he fixed his gaze to the given glass next to him, presenting him a lively world,yet it lets him imagine the city without him. Ruthlessly, his thoughts starts digging deeper and deeper.

He saw children running around, only for Kaneki chuckles at the sight, glad that they're free and joyful unlike his pitiful childhood. Grown up folks are scattered around the town, readying themselves for the whole day, he got a bit envious at that thought, because here he is, sitting like a sore loser he was.

But that doesn't matter...

Kids are going to school, being free spirits like nothing's changed. Adults kept working 24/7, thrusting themselves in the world of society like nothing's changed. People just living, doing their daily life like nothing's changed. It's not like they care anyway. Even if he died, nothing will make a difference to any of these individuals fate.

Taking a deep breath , he shifted his sights at the cafe to revise his gloomy cogitation.

Other than the room being crowded, he understands why this place must be popular. From the smell of grinded coffee arouses him, a warm and welcoming ambiance greets every customers. To each aesthetic this place has picked to displayed more friendly atmosphere to ventilate the mood, to how each waiters and waitresses treated their customers with their warm smiles. Overall, in his account, this cafe is such a great place already . And something else where he can't lay a finger on. But of course, it doesn't matter.

Then the irritatingly loud growl was heard again , reminding him to get some food already . He picked up a menu to select his desired dish. After he ate pancakes for breakfast, Kaneki took out a novel and begins to read the book he's currently reading again, Phantasm of Death. A story about a delusional protagonist where he is trapped inside of a dangerous island, where beings and creatures existed. A story where it experiments human physiology about their questionable desires , like the protagonist where he desires death yet also fears death. Drawn to the confusion between living and dying. It makes him deeply invested to the story. Just when he opened the book and located the page where he left off, he took out two thick papers he tucked between the pages he have left off. To some people, it looks like it just a piece of bookmarks that will eventually be thrown away. But for Ken Kaneki, it's a whole other story. Somehow, seeing these ornaments make him feel resentful instead. Growing agitated while these these cruel thoughts worsened , his eyes profusely scanned the paragraphs that's been written in the book, forcefully trying to distract himself once more. The last thing he wanted was having a breakdown inside the cafe. He's almost done with this book anyway. Ten or more so chapters and it will be all complete.If he finishes it, there will be no distractions anymore , making the pain to come back , mocking him with a lot of miserable memories and sullen insinuations again. He knows that he doesn't have the willpower to withstand it. So ending his life once and for all is the solution he has to finish all the pain he's shouldering. "Sir..." A voice surprises him despite it's gentle tone. "Excuse me, young man ."the voice asked gently again ,Kaneki noticed a palm being offered in front of him. Still a bit startled, he looked up , learning the owner's voice is an old waiter. The waiter gave him a genuine reassuring smile."Would you like seconds sir?" he continued, referring to the coffee. Understanding, Kaneki gave a quick nod, "Oh, please." The old man took Ken's cup before he refills it. When his beverage is served , all his coils vanished temporarily as he took the cup to his face and whiff on the aromatic fragrance , letting the steam tickle his skin. Kaneki thinks this is one of the best coffee he has tasted. To him coffee is just coffee and nothing more, but this cafe has given such a special blend to serve. The drink alone helps him put on ease .He doesn't mind spending his savings for the coffee, he would die and his money will just go to waste. So having a quality cup before death isn't a thought that bugged him at all. After a few more refills, the old man gave out a pleasant chuckled "You sure seem to like our coffee.You're new here sir?" "Oh yes, I just came here to visit" he simply answered, "and the coffee here is the best. I really loved it." he says, impetuously draws out a grin , rewarded with another kind smile "Well that's nice to hear. We're glad you enjoyed it." He places the cup back to the platter and goes to assist other customers. Several minutes has passed , Kaneki was about to reach the conclusion of the novel. He decided to stop there and saved it for later. His eyes cast at the wall clock and saw that it's almost noon. He requested for his bill and was bewildered that he only has to pay for the pancakes he ordered. He took his belongings and went up to the cashier ,telling them about the missing item in his receipt. "You don't have to worry about that young man." A familiar voice called. It was the same old waiter who have served him coffee,"On the house.". "Um.. Are you sure sir?" He blinks, " I asked for too many refills." He uttered awkwardly . "You really don't have to worry about it." he repeats ,"As the manager of the cafe, it's my pleasure to greet newcomers with our proud home blend coffee for free." He insisted. Well it will be rude the more he resisted. Nodding at the kind manager, he pays his food and went at the front door with the old man ushering him. "Please come again soon." The manager bids, opening the door for his patron. Unconsciously, Ken puts his index finger at his chin "I-I will." Then leaves the place. As he went out off the front door, someone noticed his presence , and with wide eyes followed his fading figure through the window. Voice came out as soft like a prayer. She whispered the name of someone she has wanted to see for a long time- "Kaneki...?" --------------------------------------------------------- First he went to a bathhouse to clean himself up. When the hot water touches his cold skin, his tense muscles starts to relax a little . He gives himself a moment to deliberate about what he would do next in the journey . Of course other than proceeding with his 'dying-in-style' plan here, he also wants to grant a promise that he and his best friend made when they were still little kids. Unintentionally, he recollected a past memory. It was a class trip in Hakodate while he was still in 6th grade. If he remembered correctly, he wasn't supposed to come along but Hide forced him and asked his mother.

"Ow!" The timid boy yelped in pain as he was being tackled by his friend in the sandbox on a breezy Saturday noon. "Ken Kaneki where the hell have you been!" His best friend, Hideyoshi Nagachika or Hide by what you call him, nudged the poor boy in front of him, while Kaneki ,gently rubbed his own stomach to soothe the pain , "I've been worried sick! You're rarely late or absent to class .I even went to your place and nobody is answering and-" he noticed the bandages in his arm. Hide pointed "Dude, just what the heck and where did you get this ?" He looks at him with concern. What happened yesterday? "I-I fell" he answer reassuringly , trying to mask the grief impression he almost attempted to display with his tone. He instinctively hides his arms from Hide's vision, yet failed miserably . He catches Hide's eyes that were observing his bruised limbs are disquieted with doubt.

"That's it?" He says in disbelief . Urgently, Kaneki moved his lips "The bruises are bad, I can't move a leg so... that's why I was taken to a nearby clinic haha." He answers him spontaneously by lying . Always lying , doing the usual routine he's bound to do. Just when can he stop hiding things from him? But just as he frequently used to fib at him, Hide never pushed on the subject, he just analyze his face and the bandages like a tricky quiz and move on, "Okay if that's what you say..." He took a toy shovel and starts digging in the sand, "Let me help you with what your building. " he said before giving a small toothy grin, much to Kaneki's relief. While they've continue establishing the sand castle with their hands , Kaneki decided to ask another topic, "S-so how was class yesterday?" He stutters. His friend blinks, and has stopped moving. The moment Kaneki asked that question seems to have triggered something in Hide's gears,"Dude..." his voice deepens. Kaneki stiffened . Did something bad happen yester- "We're going to have a trip in Hakodate!" Hide squeals , eyes shimmering. 'Oh.' Kaneki thinks, depleting his worries , 'So a school field trip then...' "That's nice..." he simply responded ,shifting Hide's bright expression into puzzled face . His wide eyes gazed at him like he killed his dog or something. Yet Kaneki chose to ignore him and keep doing his work. "'That's nice...'?" "Yeeah?" "Dude are you kidding me?! A trip to Hakodate will be would be super dope as hell! " he grabs Kaneki's shoulder, accidentally stepping on the castle they're currently working on ,making the boy protest about his now ruined creation until Hide decided to disrupt before his friend complain . "We could go up the trees , try out some food, sneak away during lights out, see the view above the mountain- That isn't 'Nice'." Hide scoffed ,then a light bulb appeared in his brain. "Kaneki you have to go this time! You never go to class trips!" He said in a demanding tone. He daydreams as the image of the thrilling adventures they could both do together vast in his mind, kept on shaking his best friend ,who's probably thinking the opposite . These are one of those times where Kaneki didn't really know how him and Hide are able to maintain their friendship despite their opposite demeanor. So he crack a smile with annoyance ,"You could just go without me. I would be okay here ,just gonna finish this book" he says, taking an item out of his bag and raised the literature he currently reads. But Hide still looks at him, discontent, as he roughly puts the book down from his vision then crosses his arms "That's the whole point! You have to take a break from your comfort zone and man up! You're always reading those boring books like an old man. No wonder why you can't pick up the ladies!" Ken pouts .Hide doesn't understand-or atleast, doesn't know. It's not that he could blame him , because he doesn't really need to know. A sharp pain throbs in his stomach that starts aching again. Reminding him about his mother, who left the abrasion in his belly. He squeezed his lids closed , thinks about yesterday's events and the future troubles that were already animating in his mind. The expenses she has to cover for the trip,her worries about what will happen to him if anything bad happens- He wouldn't even receive any concern from a mother, instead he'll receive to much frustration from her and she will beat him up , damaging his body even more. Besides, his mother have enough problems already. He can't be selfish and ask something trivial for his own happiness and let his mother bare the burden for it. But he can't also tell Hide that. Or else greater consequences will occur. He doesn't know what to do, nevertheless he found himself muttered "My mom won't let me." A few seconds slipped with the wind for Hide's eyes to soften "That's why?" He asked softly, Kaneki hesitantly nods in response, getting off guard, letting Hide have the opportunity to grab his sling bag and arm before he started to march off,dragging Kaneki along. "H-hey Hide what are you doing!?" Kaneki exclaimed, wanting to stop his best friend, yet he found his own legs following Hide's trail. "Don't worry about it man, I'll ask for her permission on your behalf. I'm sure she'll agree." Hide says with optimism , giving him a reassuring smile. "And I'm pretty sure you also want to come along don't you?" Of course he wants to, he wants to get away from the grim house , stay away from his mother even for a brief moment . But he can't, he just can't. Just as he said before , asking his mother for her blessing is a big 'No' in a snap of a finger, telling Hide his reasons why he refused only bring more burdensome at him and to her immediately. Trying a weak attempt to stop him, Kaneki quickly lied again "N-no." But it didn't seem to work as his best friend grimace. "Shut up you clearly wanted to." He continues, still walking ,passing house to house until they reached Ken's flat. "Just let me handle this. You'll come with us!" Defeated, he shuts his mouth and stared at his feet while Hide knocks the door and turns to wink at him. The poor boy looks at him in disbelief. Is Hide really that stubborn and a birdbrain just for the sake for Kaneki to come with him? Nothing better would come out even if his mother agree.This whole deal is impractical, really. The door opens and Ken flinches, making his current dismay fade in the breeze only to be replaced by a bigger one. He noticed a pair of slippers appeared. Swallowing, he mustered up the courage to look up from his mother's face only to find a confuse stare dawned on them. "What are you two boys doing here?" She asked ,shifting her gazes at the both of them. "Ma'am, I'm really sorry if we made an hassle but I want to ask if I could barrow Kaneki for uh... two to three days?" He raised his three fingers. At his surprise, his mother seems amused as she raised an eyebrow and leaned her back at the door frame "Why's that?" "Oh well , the school will have a trip in the Hakodate. I was thinking of bringing him along.Can he go with us? I promise to take full fledged responsibility if anything happens." He proposed, looking expectedly at her with a proud smile. But behind his outburst aura was his terrified friend. However his affright expression shifted. Her lips curved into a sad smile .His mother took a soft glare at him. Both of her eyes shimmered . Surprisingly , instead of flinching like the natural response, her son stared at her, confused. That wasn't a harsh glare that makes him tremble with fear or feel being threatened. Her smile is genuine, he could tell that it's not fake or an act. It was a expression that's he rarely seen from her. Something that gives him an odd fuzzy feeling ,making him process to convince himself that it wasn't an illusion or a dream. But it's real. Then before he knew it, his mother told them her answer. ... Apparently, thanks to Hide's reckless actions, Kaneki is now walking with a sea of kids to reach the mountaintop. That night when Hide asked for her permission , his mother questioned him if he truly wants to go. He said yes and answered her sincerely and was surprised that she agreed and didn't give him another beating. Guilt was shimmering in her eyes along with her face and her tone. She apologized to him about the way she treated him yesterday .But it didn't matter to him anymore. His mind was clouded with thoughts that he will finally be far away form this house and from her beatings. She just told him not to worry about it and she'll find a way. She also told him not to misbehave and be careful out there. But even with her consent, he can't help but having mixed feelings about the whole thing. He felt so happy, but it worries him so much that it also scares him. The expenses, her well being, getting away from the future terrible days that's about to come- just everything crashes in his mind. Yet his mother just gave him a genuine smile , softly combing the fringe of his dark hair using her fingers and bid him good night to call it a day. The whole night, a small smile crept his face, overwhelmed as tears drips, staining his sheets until he was able to be tucked in a peaceful slumber underneath the starless night . ... In Hakodate, one of the most infamous spots here is the view from the mountain, where you can sightsee the city. After a few more efforts, they finally reached the destination they've been waiting for... The summit of the mountain where they could see the whole town. Hide quickly ran to the deck to save himself and Kaneki the best spot even if the cheeky kid got scolded. "Woah." Kaneki said in awe as he saw the picturesque view his eyes delivered upon him. Lights flickering along the city that's covered in early November snow. Colors brightly glistening in the starry sky painted with the hue of oranges and blue. The whole sight catches his words away. While admiring the whole scenery, Kaneki was interrupted when an arm wrapped around his shoulder. "So what do you think?" Hide asked, smiling brightly at his friend . "It's great." He chimed , making Hide beamed ,"Told ya!" "T-thanks alot Hide." Kaneki moved his cold lips as he also cracked a smile, "Aw no problem bro. Told you need it," he ruffled his friend's hair ,"But seriously, your mom is really scary when I talked to her. I was quite a bit anxious for a sec hehe." he scratched his cheek, thinking about the time when he confronted his best friend's mother. "Hide... You really don't need to do that. I could've done it myself." he murmurs as he received a light punch in the shoulder, "You kidding me right? You seem to be much more a scardy cat than I am, and if I do let you do it, you wouldn't say a thing to her like you always do! So I have to take the initiative!" The boy sighs and decided to end this pointless conversation and continue to appreciate the landscape. The more they would talk about it, the more her remembered the worst things his mother committed , "Ah well, it already happened so might as well let go of the past." Kaneki mutters. Thankfully, Hide seems to get the idea and turn to face the bright town. For a few moment, the his friend took a deep breath, creating mist in his mouth and called his best friend, "Hey Kaneki." "Yeah?" "In the future..." His eyes scanned the whole city before he go even further "Do you want to travel all the cool places in Japan together?" He asked, leaning his arms at the fence as he continue to stare at the town. Ken follows, yet also pictures them going place by place, like the characters in fairy tales when they venture the world. Eating all kinds of food ,exploring cool new things. The thought seems like a better idea than staying inside the dark house everyday and everynight. Not to mention that he would love to see more attractions like these, where instead of looking at images behind the screens, his eyes will witness the real thing. Kaneki breaks out a grin "Sure. Traveling Japan as a whole... seems kinda fun!" Hide smiled jovially and pat his friend's shoulder "Then it's settled! When we're adults ,both you and me will travel the whole country with our girlfriends!" "Okay where did that come from!?" He jumped at his last statement , totally not expecting that. But Hide kept chuckling ,"Duh, it's a joke." Then a smug smirk crept his face "But it's bound to happen , I think. I don't know about you though. You're a bit nerdy for a girl." He continues , teasing the boy beside him, making Kaneki scoff, "Shut up." "Jeez taking a joke seriously Kenny boy?" he says in amusement as Kaneki laughs sarcastically before giving him a face. "Hey don't give me that look." Hide stops as Kaneki chuckles and decided to turn around and ignore him . He received a light tap on the shoulder ,making Kaneki face up to Hide. He puts his hands on his hips and starts looking around their surroundings "We better move, I'm sure there's still alot of awesome things going around in this place before we go." Kaneki nods in agreement. As both boys started to wander around, Kaneki looked back at the balcony for one last time and noticed a small figure in the crowd, looking yearningly at the view presented to them. He also found that in their eyes, he can see only sorrow reflected behind those longing gaze. ... Then his eyes darted open, brought back in the present time. 'Then it's settled! When we're adults ,both you and me will travel the whole country!' Hide's voice resonates . Kaneki wants to laugh at that promise. Look at the situation now. It's clearly not happening and it will never will . Just like every other childish promises he tried to keep , they're too delusional and impossible . His promises are somethings that mostly happened in the heat of the moment decisions. Like a child wishing in the star or to a dandelion's dust, hoping it would come true, regardless of being aware it just a lie to make children hold onto something called 'hope'. He will admit that he tried to make them come true and stay on the right rail, following the signs. But no matter how much he tried to remain at same road, his life turns ,forcing him to walk on a much more difficult path . So in the end, even if he say he's doing their promise by going alone for Hide's behalf, that promise have now turned into a huge joke hasn't it? -------------------------------------------------------- Months of preparing, he thought this will be a chore. Fortunately he's wrong. As he starts roaming all over the Osaka, he ate some street food, tried out some native snacks he have never tasted . He visited some nearby tourists spots, where he learned the history of each place, every important names, event that would dissolve likely later from his mind. He looked at different shops, seeing many items, vintage or modern souvenirs that he wouldn't really buy. Wandering around aimlessly, Kaneki wonders to himself why he even bothers to let himself experience all these things other than fulfilling the promise him and Hide did for his behalf, he really isn't sure why? Maybe it's because he wants to at least try out things that might've been considered 'fun' or maybe find anything to distract himself from worrying about later events and from these merciless thoughts of his. Because he will admit that this is quite fun, even though a trace of guilt lingers inside of him or a weight on his body that has taken a toll, leaving a message 'You don't deserve it'. Having a walk in the path covered in snow, mesmerizing each buildings, houses that are different from the ones he sees in Tokyo, it seems to be a good temporary painkiller for the demons in his head. But does it really matter? For him, the answer is 'Nope'. Because despite it all, everything is still going as planned. ... 7:15, his clock reads. Before he goes to his final destination, he looked at the map to visit the place he's quite excited to see. The infamous library of Osaka. It is popular for its massive amount of books they have in store. Ken has searched it up on the internet before he decided Osaka to be the last town he would see in his life. And he did not regret it. After he walk for another several minutes at the main street and entered the library , his own mouth and eyes widens after he passed through the door. Unlike the book stores in Tokyo, the layers and layers of shelves in this place overwhelms him. Ornaments are neatly place to each shelf along with various types of books , with all kinds of titles, written in many genres. Created by different authors all around the world . It was like the ideal world that stays in an avid readers dreams was pulled out from their minds to make them feel that comfort will welcome them inside. His fingers lightly skimmed the spine of each book in the shelves , his eyes studies each title of the novels, muttering out the short summaries of each story with his knowledge alone. Strolling a bit more further, he moved to the next floor, where he could find the section of the classic novels, like the works of Natsume Soseki's 'Kokoro' . Osamu Dazai's 'No Longer Human' and also from his favorite author Sen Takatsuki 'The Black Goats Egg' which he just finished . If he would live and settle down here in Osaka, this would probably be the aisle he would often visit. After appreciating the stacks of novels in the shelves , his eyes caught the same cover as the book he's currently reading, Phantasm of Death . That reminds him. He finds a nearby table as he quickly opened his bag , rummaging his belongings , digging deeper to find the book. But after a few moments, his brows furrowed, face written with confusion. When something in his gut strikes , his breathing became quicker . The more time passed, he started to panic , immediately taking out all the contents and scanned to see if his book is one of them. "Shit, shit, shit..." He kept muttering, like it's the only thing to prevent him from breaking. Where is it? He kept looking and looking, until it really dawned on him that the book isn't really with him. He can't lose that book- inside of it, was the last photo he and Hide, his best friend, took for the last time. While the other is the lucky fortune he received from another friend he met years ago. They're too important, very important.Like a sacred treasures that helps him cling onto life. Forgotten or not, each of its signs have reminisce a lot of good memories. Memories that make him smile, take out a chuckle from him, even if they could only be counted with his fingers unlike the the unforgettable events the make him regret and ashamed to remember. Yet despite it all, it helps him reminded that good things have happened in this wrenched story of his. And now, he can't find it... Losing them brings guilt in the pit in his stomach. His mind started to get haywire. It will be the death of him. Think Kaneki. Think! Where could've he lost it? Then he remembers. After his mind debates where he could've left the book off, he shoved all his belongings back in his bag then rushes out the building and immediately ran towards the cafe Anteiku. ... When he finally reaches the building , it was too late. The doors are shut , the lights are closed , he can't feel anybody's presence inside. The lively cafe was that was once filled with a silent aura of happiness and serenity, was now dark and empty, like an empty hunting forest ,void of life. He looks through the window to see even a glimmer of his belongings inside, to his dismay he was unable to see any trace of his treasures. But he didn't lose hope, ironically. So he waits. He waits outside pacing back and forth, praying for the lights to open and see someone inside, to beg for a chance to search for his book. He counted for moments. Till moments turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. But of course, nobody came. He only have 10 minutes until the last bus towards the last place he wants to go leaves. He detaches himself from the glass window and quietly reads the sign on the front door, 'Open on January 5.' January 5, next week... Will he even wait for a week to pass by? Ruin all the plans he have arranged for months just because of a book that is very important to him? Letting such a perfect opportunity to waste? Will he be willing to wait and risk the chance to put his mindset back about looking up to the future with false hope all because the ornaments in his book that holds a lot of strong good memories? "Fuck no." Time passes, they fucking fade. Like a wind carrying the wishes of the deceased that god knows will never be fulfilled ,will slowly be forgotten by the world ... Slowly, the signs that are engraved in each item are becoming numb by every second, each minute the day has passed . No matter how much they're important, or how much high each of its merit is in his life. The thought of pain and misery keeps overcoming him, replacing the encouraging messages into a recollections of his past mistakes and failures. He remembers now and he hates himself for it, which causes him to be more self-destructive than he is now. Why would you hold onto somethings when your sense goes away? When your memories and beliefs will be swept away from your own body by the rushing waves? "Forget about the conclusion of the story," his heals turn, "Forget about those memories." He mumbles quietly as he rushes to the bus station. 'Forget everything about them...' He has finally decided. --------------------------------------------------------- When his soles touches the cold floor, he could feel his stomach burning. His eyes gazed at the cliff entrance. He shivered from the cold breeze wrapping his body that he can almost feel being suffocated . He huffs as he forced his legs to walk. They're functioning, yet he found them walking in a slow painstakingly pace. He was prepared wasn't he? He kept walking and walking, but his legs annoyingly starts getting heavier each step he takes, like they're made out of candle wax, melting to be glued in the rocky path. Letting the dangerous fire inside of him burn him even more and more. 'You shouldn't be born.' 'Useless shit!' 'It's your fault!' "No one would ever love you!" 'You don't even deserve them!' His teeth clatters. The voices are getting louder the closer he gets. He just wants to bang his head on the floor or whatever solid he could find. Just make them shut the hell up. Because he's aware yet the kept reminding. A little relief came when he saw nobody was on the small empty eerie forest. There's almost no one in the place anyway because why would they? They have families to go home to and have friends to spend time to. And he has none of that. He will die alone. And that thought could only make him swallow. Before heading over , he close his eyes and took a deep breath. He repeatedly did this a couple of time until he make sure he's hushed down. That he'll make it their in one peice. That he won't break. That his dying in style plan would come in play. Then his legs move, leaving a trail of his footprints that will be swept away by the wind. Leaving no trace of their existence. The whole world would only laugh at his actions, finding how silly this whole thing is, learning his whole life is a joke like it always been. The shadow of the trees engulfed him. In the story books, all the main characters would find a way to get out of the menacing forest and live, but to Ken Kaneki, it's different. He would find the light and die. He ventures down a little bit more until he find himself standing almost at end of the forest. At the edge of the cliff , all he can see is death's door, wide open for him. He can feel it waiting , calling seductively for him to take the last step so he could be consumed in the darkness. He leans at the tree for leverage, sweat beads forming at his temples. It's now or never. Kaneki takes off his backpack and jacket, not knowing a reason why he should when it could benefit him to sink even deeper. But below the gap , he could hear the waves crashing brashly at the rocky ground, he was certain that if he even tries to swim out of survival instincts,the current will pull him back, permanently sealing him to the prison of death. If he jumps and hit his body to the hard cement ,especially his head ,he will surely be unconscious. Or the best scenario , he will suffer from internal hemorrhage, cracking his skull , having an internal bleeding and not recovering from the injury ever again. One jump. Just one jump and everything will be over. He looked at the moon, staring at it like a fool for finding answers why he shouldn't end his life. He planned everything and was prepared for months, but why? Why is he afraid enough that makes his legs numb? Why can't he close his eyes, run and sprint at the gap to finally be gone to this world? Is it by human nature? Giving himself more time to cope and think? Wanting to ... live...? The last suggestion makes him laugh. His life is a nuisance as far he remembers . He wanted to end everything , make his senses numb to not feel pain, to not hear the sadistic voices inside of his head. Especially being an affliction to people's bright lives. Being the reason, the main cause of their pain and suffering. It's not their fault, it his. Slowly but steadily, he marches forward, like a process to mark his death to the reaper. It's scary but it in the end it will give him peace without offending anyone anymore .

At the brink of the end, with the dark and sickened eyes, he can barely see the waves and tried decipher the shape of the stones. In his perspective, it looks like the the entrance of the abyss, where no light existed, only darkness wrapping the poor souls and force them to go and riot to hell. He swallows again, rubbing both of his palms together. No backing down. It's time to end this, end everything.His feet moves slowly, his breathing quickens again , hesitantly stepping at the air and trying force the gravity to pull his body to the gap and fall, but... The incident last year. Ambulance are ringing in his ears. The wrath of the wind hitting smacking his own skin. He sees doctors, people, a bridge, especially someone covered in their own blood. 'Live Kaneki...' are the words he immediately hear . He breaks. He breaks as his butt meet the cold floor instead of the water. He clenched his chest tightly while gasping for air. He can't do it. He can't do it... Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why can't he make himself die right now!? Out of frustration , Kaneki took a rock and throw it at the cliff and yelled, venting his distress at a mere object. After getting a small satisfaction from his actions, he used his hands to cover his ashamed face and muffled the rest of his screams from coming out. He just wants to die. That's it! He wants to punish himself from his crimes and every sin he have committed. He doesn't deserve to live. He needs to die, he wants to die.

Yet even his pathetic self can't do it again... "Someone please..." "Just break me." He prays, hopefully that someone would hear it. That his words will whisper in someone's ear and they will grant his request. "You know I could hear you crying from here." A feminine voice called behind , realizing that he now regretted his own selfish request . He immediately stops wailing and blinks. How come someone found him at this late? Nobody should be outside already at this time around. He was certain he went to an empty place, where no one could hear him, where no one could see him in a forest facing a cliff in a middle of nowhere, where no one could see him jump to his death . Did this person followed him or heard him? He turned around to inspect to see the intruder , and what he found is a woman. From her looks and her posture, he can definitely tell that the girl was between her early twenties . Her blue fluffy hair that past between her shoulders covers one of her indigo blue eyes. The visible orb glows beneath the shadows of the tree; are focusing , mesmerizing his pathetic feature. The pale skin in her face that's glinting under the night sky ,an expression that is pasted with a poker faced look. At first glance she looked a little bit intimidating, yet,it doesn't fazed him. Not at all... Which seems to be off. "Did I interrupt something here or...?" She said with bored eyes as she pointed at her face, "You really just have something here." Indicating his tears. He quickly wiped them away sheepishly and try to make himself look a bit proper. After he fixed himself, a pang of deja vu hits him. He doesn't know how, but for some reason, he remembers a faint memory that disappeared just before he could recall it... ... "Uh..." Is all Kaneki's smart mouth could say. The woman came closer "Mind if sit with you?" She asked yet just sat a besides him, clearly not waiting for his consent at all. Not that he minded. Both are strangers to each other. They don't know each other's name, purposes and goals. 'But are they?' a voice echoes in his mind. "Got a nice view up here..." The girl muttered , looking at the place then at him. He didn't say anything and just look at the rushing water below the gap , what is there to say anyway? She's just a mysterious person who just popped out of nowhere , stopping- no, distracting him from the brink of death. She raised her finger and points, "You got the view of the city to the left, the moon, then a sea... I could stay up here until sunrise." She exaggerates before she took her backpack and unzips it, rummaging until she took out a napkin along a book. Curiously, he looked at her direction and inspected at the hardbound until his eyes widen when he recognized the familiar front cover of the literature. "You forgot this. " she handed both things at him . " I saw you left this at the cafe earlier ; I was supposed to call you out ,but before I got even the chance too, you're gone already ." Kaneki stared at her with disbelief, thinking everything is surreal . He bit his lip and quickly took his book back from her, shaky hands opened it greeted by pages and finds what he's looking for, the photo and the bookmark, still tucked inside in one piece. Tears staining his damped face again, then asked the mysterious woman with a crooked voice "W-why did you went to this trouble just to bring it back to me?" The lady just scoffed at him "No thank you? Rude..." she fumed, crossing both of her legs and placed her elbows , making her face rest on her palm. "You seem desperate by getting it back. Can't stick seeing your crybaby face. " she took a quick glance at him and snickered. This woman is obviously teasing him, a stranger. However, Her presences is somewhat... Calming, in an particular way. "I tried to give it back to you but when I went back to the front door, you're just gone in the air again . So I thought of taking the book with me because the shop is closed until next week and I might have a slight chance to walk up to you, which I did. I saw you again in the entrance and followed you, not that I'm a stalker or anything ." Kaneki looked at the woman, then back at his treasures. He noticed a fabric peaked out then lifted it up to reach her vision . "About that, you need something to wipe your face. You look like a human waterfall." He smiled when he heard her insult "Thank you..." Then rubbed his face gently with the given napkin. The woman gave him a smirk. A smile formed on his face and he starts to wonder 'Why does life give me reasons to live when I have finally decided that I want to die?' he wipes his face using the handkerchief, 'Showing me happiness where everything is bright and warm. Whenever I foolishly believed that the bliss will stay, my life finds a way to take them all away again, won't history repeat itself again?' Again, like a caged maze only leading him in the roundabout circles. He looked at the lady, eyes distance to the starry sky. Both pupils are tamed to decipher to point the stars , wondering which constellation they belong. He finds himself almost chuckling at the sight before his eyes 'If I find myself attached to her like my last string of hope, won't fate just take it all away again?' then eyes darkens as he mutters to himself "You're just gonna end up like everyone else." 'And in the end I'll be left alone again and I'll be the one to be blamed.' "Huh?" the woman's train of thought disperse. He quickly tense as he shakes his head.

"N-nothing!" he immediately averted his gaze away then dabs the piece of fabric in his skin, poorly attempting to hide his ashamed face underneath the napkin. "I mean thank you." He affirms , trying to cover up his previous statement. Earning a smirk that was draws on her face. Then without a warning, she stretches out her arms, like a bird whose wings are finally free from the chains, "You know..." she stops as she took a deep breath... "This cliff is the perfect place to die." During these few moments of silence, her words repeatedly echoes in his mind. Kaneki looked at the lady with wide eyes, processing of what she just declared . D-did she know his true intentions? Does she want to end her life as well? 'Just let me die' said a faint familiar voice. "Your shoes are in that tree along with your stuff." She lifted her thumb, directing it at the tree, " Not to mention doing it in the middle of the night? It's almost New year. Bet the people will be happy seeing a floating corpse during the celebration , what a good omen." she commented scathingly. He blinks at her and doesn't respond to her statement. The reverse psychology she stated makes him smile, his brows furrowed, his lips brought out a bitter laugh into life. "Why are you laughing?" she inquires. "It's just that... I look stupid now aren't I?" She bit her lip, suppressing a chuckle until she slowly follows him. "I think... we both are." she bobbed her head , concurring at her own account . And he can't help but to agree with her. Both are laughing at how stupid this entire thing is. How they find it amusing if they could see the world's disappointed face of their actions. When death is supposed to be marked at this time around .Their cynical voices molded , orchestrated a bittersweet song that the world would never heard again. The whole situation is weird and stupid. But even with it's simple stupidity, he would lie if he said it's wasn't nice to have these kind of conversations. When both calmed. The tension arouse into something uncanny . The breeze of reality came back ,letting countless of questions rack his head. Is she trying to stop him? A weak boy who has lost all hope in his miserable life? For what cause? What benefit will she get from him if she tries to save him? She should just leave , forget him and let him die without a single soul knowing. Ah. It hit him. She's just pitying him, that's all. If she realized that she just let a person killed himself, guilt will only come up to her and haunt her in her sleepless nights . He knows how that feels, feeling useless not stopping a person to open the death's door. Just like him and his mother. If he knows better, he would've done everything to stop her. Then maybe, today , maybe, his mother was still alive. And now this lady caught him red handed. She has now fallen into his position. If fate truly exist, then he will be it's bait. That thought makes him shudder. He truly is a piece of shit, garbage. He should've just jumped while he has the chance. That would be better for the both of them. What a fucking waste of space. "Hey if you try to die now, you would miss the opportunity to see the fireworks up here. They rarely ran a display during New year here and the view seems rad." She smiled sadly while looking at the city lights from the corner of the gap," That's where people gather and watch the display . I know it's a bit far but if I were you, I would watch the show from this perspective before..." The woman bit her lip and paused when he eyes caught the sea. She seem to be careful not to say anything about suicide. But, she quickly wiped the gloomy expression and stared at him with giddiness "So what do you think?" Kaneki sigh. Why does this woman keep on talking to him and inviting him like he's her friend or something. They don't know each other so what's the big deal? This doesn't make sense to him. She should leave now. This girl is too foolish for staying with him. She's just wasting her time to a worthless piece of shit. Somehow , even if he has the power to leave her, to run now and never look back. The girl has something the he can't lay his finger on. She has that familiar aura, her presence seems too nostalgic. That alone suprisingly makes him stay. He thinks as he rubbed both of his fingers and stared at them, thinking of an excuse to back out ,"I appreciate the offer, but, it will be a twenty five minutes drive from here to the city, almost an hour by walking. Don't you have any friends to hang out with?" The woman placed both of her hands to the rocky floor and leaned back "Well... my friend wants me to find the best view for the fireworks display . I think this is the perfect one and I want to invite you too." She replied nonchalantly. Ken snickers "Okay we just met." The woman licked her lips and sighed deeply. He find it quite amusing that she isn't exhausted and was still trying to convince him, "Well it's you who lead me back to this place. The best way I could thank you is inviting you here." This whole conversation makes no sense... But... Watching the fireworks wouldn't hurt. It's just another day of living while having a pit of toxicity in his stomach, he still has enough money to spend for the next night. Doing this is just repaying her for going all the way over here just to give him back his important belongings that helps him hold onto dear life . It's not a big request that was impossible to grant. After new year, he could find another place , make sure this woman forgets his existence, then to kill himself. Simple. Thinking about it, he should be asking for her name already, but it's not like they're going to be friends or anything. As much as possible, Kaneki wants to be sure that he's surrounded in the hallow solitude that he's in. It will be more hectic if he asked her name and exchanges his. He finds it strange that she hasn't asked for his name yet, but then again even he forgot to do that as well, maybe because of that strange sense of feeling that they already met that made introductions unnecessary. Giving up, he released a shaky breath,"Do you really think this is the best spot?" He asked her and stared at her eyes. The girl responded with a genuine smile "Trust me." This woman, her attitude, the way she talks, she seems familiar . This is getting bizarre. Have they met before? Have they crossed each other's path and somehow managed to know each other and blurt out each other's name? Well, if they did bumped to each other, or met at one time around, he doesn't want to ask because it pointless. He believes it's better for the both of them because in the end, he'll be lying lifeless soon. Ever since last year's incident, he never wants to be closer to other people anymore. If he talked to her, he might've be distracted from his goal here. She achieved that tonight but this will be the last time. Making himself attach to her is asking for a life sentence. Somehow, no matter how menacing his thoughts get, Kaneki can't help but smile back to her genuinely "Alright." One last time. No more excuses. Someone has to draw a thick line- no, build a barrier between them , then erase himself in the face of the world. And he'll be happy to do the part. "Great!" She offers a grin before she looks at the sea again once more, obviously staying . Kaneki at this point raised a suspicion if she's monitoring on him to see if he would jump at the cliff and betray her request. Kaneki sighs, as much he likes the woman's presence, he also find the situation getting weirder and weirder. "Aren't you going back to your place?" She closed her eyes and shakes her head "Nope. I spend 150 yen for the bus ticket all the way here. At Least let me enjoy what I've paid would ya?" She scolds, telling him to shut up. Which he did. Within those few more minutes that went by , the woman kept staring at the distance of the sea where her eyes could reach, trying to ignoring the guy's stares who's next to her. She rolled her eyes and is the first one to spoke up to break the comfortless silence ,"Weirdo". "Wha-!? " he cry out in surprise, causing her to blurt out a small chuckle. Defending himself, he told her, "It's just...You look (felt) familiar." The woman took glance at him "Yeah?" a small smile crept her face. She tries to move her lips as if she wants to say something but , instead, she stood up, not wanting to continue the discussion even further. "If I went now,will you still stay?" She asked , not leaving her eyes on him as she wipes off her bottom for the remaining dirt to come off. "It's getting late. Really late." She reminded him. Kaneki followed the trail of the moonlight's reflection from the rushing waves and looked up at the moon itself, "You're right ." He simply answered , nodding his head. She reached out a hand, helping him to stand up, then both exchanges small smiles to each other before fixing themselves. 'Hey if you try to die now, you would miss the opportunity to see the fireworks up here' her voice vibrates in his mind over and over again. He clearly remembers the voice she displayed. Not out of pity nor out of resentment the way he thought it would be . For the past 25 horrible years of his life, he was able to trace all of the negativity or ill feelings towards him. However... The way she blurted every word she say to him are out of sincerity and sympathetic , as if she they were friends to another world or from their previous life...he kinda felt a little... tingle in his belly. This woman is too kind that it's scaring him. She's too kind that it might be the death of him instead. After making sure they both left nothing on the crag, they looked at the cliff one last time for tonight and leaves the place wordless. ... When they bought tickets at the receptionist, they both entered the last bus that is stationed outside of the entrance. Both are thankful when they found vacant seats, despite around this time around being rush hour, a two-seaters in the back are waiting for them. Ken clears his throat, "After you." He escorted her with chivalry. "Thanks. " She nodded politely. ... They settled themselves, white silence envelopes them. 'This isn't awkward at all.' He mentally submits to himself sarcastically. Well to be exact, he doesn't know what else he should say . But this isn't what he wanted, right ? He wanted not to be involve in anyone's daily life. That an unknown space would remain between him and society. Between him and her, both of them . There would be a far stretch space we're they couldn't connect . And yet here he is sitting beside a person he hardly knows planning to go and watch a fireworks display. Somehow he isn't sure as an alluring air around her tempts him to break his own rule through his own volition. He can feel his mouth about to set the forbidden words free, enough to make him obligated to cover his own mouth. What is this feeling? Why does it feel like this has happened before? The questions he has in his head, he wants to vomit them. And god it takes a lot of willpower not to let them out. Powerless, the only thing he could do was silently watch her. Her hair faced him; her temples rested on the window as she is drown at her own thoughts as well. His mind wonders what's she's currently thinking. And it surprisingly scares him. "Stop that." She blurted, annoyed, enough to make him flinch and quickly tries to hunt for anything distracting in his backpack. He snatched his phone out as he decided to busy himself by searching up some hotels with reasonable prices since he is going to stay for another night. But from the looks of it, all of them are fully booked tonight. "So, where would you stay? You don't look like you're someone who lived here" She flickered her eyes up him. Kaneki simply answers, scrolling down and trying his best not to meet her eyes. "A hotel. I'm still finding one." He utters. "I can help you with that." She offered. "No, it's alright. I can find one." But after visiting more web pages , scrolling down , and a dying battery later. To his dismay, every hotel, every inn or even the motels are fully booked. "Can't find a room?" she smiles as she raised an eyebrow, looking smugly at him. "Like I told you, there's a fireworks festival tomorrow at New year . Very rare for this to happen in Osaka. So you're not the only one looking for a damn room, well at the very least they know how to book early." 'Well that's because I wasn't even planning on sta-' Silence empowered him instead . However the woman seem to know something, enough to let out a cough, to seek for his attention, "I have a friend who's roommate just moved from another town. Maybe you can stay with him for awhile. It's just that he's an asspull, but I think you can manage with him." "N-no. It's fine, really." He turns the offer down, "You already done enough for me and I don't want to bother your friend. He's probably sleeping since it's late." She chuckles,"At this time around, he's probably with his girlfriend, jerking off or whatever." She twirled her hair as she nonchalantly looked at him , "Besides you got nothing to lose, and not to mention you have no other place to stay." 'She does have a point' he admits to himself. Still, he felt a bit reluctant about the offer. 'What if...' he thought to himself ,'What if I become friends with this person she's talking about? What if I become a nuisance to him as I was to everyone else in my life?' But then again, it will all end tomorrow, why not just endure another night?' 'Excuses.' His eyes widen hearing those words. 'You still want to live and you know it.' 'Still wanna fill this world with your useless presence' 'Nobody loves you, nobody needs you, and nobody ever will.' 'Your heart will remain as it always was...an empty void, a vessel full of

nothingness.'

Those mocking words echo in his mind, as he grits his teeth trying his best not to show his dismay. "So, are you taking it or what?" her words slaps him right back to reality. He finds himself ending up staring at her face, her voice seemed to chant a magic spell to swept away all the menacing voices away. How does she do that? He wants to ask her but he didn't replied as he kept being mesmerized by her nostalgic eyes that seem to hold secrets deeper and darker than the ocean floor that he wants to hunt so badly. "Stop staring and answer the damn question already, are you taking it or not?" She grimaced, completely snapping him out of his daydream. Blinking his eyes before missing a beat, he answers, "Okay, okay fine." He raised his hands in defeat. "I'll take it, where's it even at?" Hearing his response, a small smile of victory slowly etches on her face" Don't worry it's close to our stop, about a 5 min walk from there, probably. " Kaneki sighs, leaning on his back as his eyes closed, smiling at her, "Alright." After this no words were exchanged until they reached their destination. Finally, they went down the vehicle , Kaneki places his hands in his pockets, he exhales deeply, creating an icy mist escaping his mouth, 'Well then, lead the way" tilting his head towards her direction. She nods "Its just down this alley way, come on follow me." Then she starts walking.

Venturing down the quiet eerie streets, all the Christmas decorations are already replaced by the New Year once as he noticed how snowy it was, like some obscure picture covered in a white sea. He felt that this has happened before... 'Isn't it nice to have a snowy late night walks?' A familiar voice giggled inside his head. Both of his feet stopped walking as he stands, finding the woman's figure drifting further and further as she walks. He recalls another fragmented memory. His eyes close and immediately opens, realizing that she has remarked that he has stopped walking and immediately called out to him, "Are you okay?"she asked, her tone was illustrated with concern. "Ah yeah. I'm alright. Just thinking about somethings." He quietly admitted. "Okay..." She sneers, "Then isn't it nice to have snowy late night walks?" He blinks hearing her inquires, just like the childish vioce, yet more hesitant than the latter .

"Y-yeah." He stutters. "That's good. Now let's go, were almost there." She turns her back at him as resumed walking, and all he can do is to follow her while fighting to repress his own clouded thoughts and memories. "Its here." she points after they exited an alleyway . Just at the corner of another street was a modernized house about three stories high covered in snow just like everything else. She leads him as they took the stairs to the third floor. After passing four doors, they stopped. "Here it is." She proudly presented the door with a nametag written 'Nishio' in it. 'Haven't I heard that name before?' He looked at the nametag with a puzzled look. "Doesn't look like they're here..."she peeks through the curtains then scanned the hall everywhere seeing no sign of anyone. She quickly tiptoed as she suddenly reaches the top of the doorframe to seemingly taking for something. "Aha!" she exclaims, "Here it is." she pulls down a key from the side of the frame, "Told him to hide it better, he never learns does he?" she says mockingly. When she opened the door, she took off her shoes and went inside while saying "Come on.", leading him. Entering inside the small apartment, he took a moment to look over the area until he heard her asked, "Are you hungry?" 'No, I'm good." He replies as he follows her in a vacant room. He's started to get worried about the whole thing, "You sure this will be okay?" his voice trails. "In all honesty, we are trespassing his property." He reminds her hoping to get the idea. After walking the whole town for a day and almost doing a suicide at night, he doesn't want to deal with a lot of dilemma right now. "I trespass here a lot because he has the stuff I need. He got used to it" She only replied , placing her bag on the cupboard followed by, "I think." as she opened the cabinet, taking all the sheets out and placing the first mattress ,spreading it out at the floor. "But really, don't worry. I'm sure he won't mind." She retorts before she takes another sheet. "Besides if he does get pissed, just tell him that this bitch told you so." He frowns when he heard her assurance, but instead of protesting , he quickly dropped his bag before helping her with the other sheets. Neither of them speak of the entire process until they've finished, resulting a comfortable futon seemingly ready to be slept onto. She looked at their work,"Well looks like my job here is done."then , tossed a pillow at him" If you're tired now, you can rest. You seem to have had a long day today." She tells him before she stands up, taking her bag with her. When she reaches the living room,she bid her last instruction, "Just remember what I said and you'll be fine, kay?" He leans uncomfortably at the wall,"Yeah" he simply replies, nodding at her command.. "Thank you. " he finally says as he swallows, not knowing what to do anymore during her presence. Yet he dares not to say another word. He only watched her movements while she headed to the door. For some reason, it felt like time became slower as she carefully fixed her shoes before she approached the door, "Well, I have to go now." She said, taking her leave. But when she reaches the doorknob, she stops , giving him moment as if she's expecting something from him , of course, only silence responded, not helping the somber atmosphere at all. "You sure you're not forgetting something are you?" She asked boldly, not having eye contact with him. "What?" He said, caught off guard with that question ,then tilted his head, completely bewildered . He honestly doesn't know what she's talking about. She opens the door and chortled "You really are an idiot." Then, she turned to lock her eyes with his and said , "It was nice seeing you again Kaneki Ken. I'm Kirishima Touka by the way."

The breeze that carried her words seem to have knocked out his conscious out of his body, same as the words that have slipped iut of his mouth.

“T-touka.” he stutters.

He is completely stifled hearing the message, especially the name. Kirishima Touka. Her name. The name that brings the memories back he have yearned for years to life in his mind.The name he haven't heard for a damn decade. The name that his lips haven't chanted for a long period of time. It felt like time has stopped . "Kirishima Touka..." He repeats as he finally tried to savor her name again after all these years. Recalling the way how his tongue twist and his mouth sang that old name he has forgotten. Kirishima Touka. Kirishima Touka... "Touka-" An interruption occurred when they both heard a phone rang. Touka scoffed, annoyed, as she took out her phone and looked at the caller's address, sighing "Give me a moment." She excused herself as she accepted it and quickly tucked the device on top of her ear. "Yeah?... No, no of course not!... Don't worry old man, I'll be home soon. Is Ayato home already?... Okay, give me twenty minutes. Yeah, see ya." Then she dropped the call, giving a deep exhale as her tired eyes met his, "Sorry but I need to go. My family is getting worried and we can continue this tomorrow." Ken hesitates to speak. He can't directly look her in the eyes. Touka Kirishima, a name of a friend not a stranger. But ... that only make things worse. He felt like everything he have planned for months, dying in that cliff or somewhere without anyone's knowledge, were washed away by a wave of resentment. He has a lot of things to ask about her, yet he's also wants to stay away from her. Not after what happened 10 years ago. He doesn't know what to do, what to say. Yet- "Sure..."he manages to curve his lips into a smile, a crooked smile. Touka on the other hand, eyes staring at him with disbelief, her lips pressed together , looking at him as if she can definitely see what's wrong. "Look..."she started, " You're definitely tired, if we kept chatting until dawn we probably won't have the energy to see tomorrow's display.Everything we need to catch up about , we'll just talk about it tomorrow." He only nods as he simply responds "Yeah..." "Okay." ... "Kaneki." She calls out catching his attention again, instinctively making him face her. "Mhm?" "I'll see you later, kay?" She said her final words for the night as she turned her back one last time and left shutting the door on her way out. BANG! As the door shuts, He suddenly felt alone in the cold lonely room. His back slides down, using the wall as a heft as he processes what just happened. 'I'm Touka Kirishima' He gulps again when he recalls her name that came from her very own lips. 'I'll see you later. Those are her only words for the night that truly left him astray. -END OF CHAPTER ONE-

#touken #Touka Kirishima #ken kaneki #kanetou #fanfiction #my writting #my fic #fic #Touka x Kaneki #kaneki x touka #tg #alternative universe #au #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul re #tgre #Reblogs and notes are appreciated!

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powerof3in1 · 6 years

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Apocalypse Now; Journey Home [ II.]

Days had gone by without a word from her family; she couldn’t blame them, really, she had no way of contacting them from where she was either. It didn’t help the dread though settled in her gut not knowing what was going on and if they were alright. The block had been up since the outbreak had begun, no signs of coming down and no viable way to get through or around it. The Floo Network was still shut down. Cellular service was still offline. The streets were less chaotic now, as people stopped flooding them and stayed inside. The ones that were left anyhow.

The quarantine didn’t last long from what she heard. Didn’t have a chance to even really stick. There were too many people affected by...whatever it was making them go crazy. The ones they could contain eventually were either killed or killed their captors. The cycle was continuous. The students were sent home to their families a day and a half ago, the staff heading off to their families as well. The professors that had no families or home to return to stayed within the castle. Prue continued to meet with McGonagall about what else could be done to secure the school and its grounds. The witch decided to get some air for a moment after a long conversation with the Headmistress and a few others. She just needed a break from it all.

The halls were quieter than she’d ever known them to be. The ghosts even seemed to be on edge, sticking to inside the walls and the people in the paintings weren’t scrambling about either. It was sullen, to say the least, and quite dreary. She’d been at this school since she was a child...even before she was old enough to be a student. Hogwarts was her home for so long and to see it like this... so empty and sad... Even during the Battle with Voldemort and afterwards, among the rubble and chaos of those events, it was still Hogwarts. It still stood with pride and camaraderie. Maybe it was the lack of students bustling about the halls or professors hurrying those students to their classrooms. It just seemed so depressing without minds to be taught and laughter and learning... Prue wandered the halls a bit, reminiscing the past with her best friends; even the darkest of times didn’t seem as bad as whatever this is. They always seemed to get through it all..together. Maybe they would get through this too. In the moment, all of their battles seemed hopeless at times...desperate and unwinnable. Perhaps this was another one of those battles..it seemed hopeless now but later on it will all just be a memory of another hardship. The difference this time, though, is that they were all separated. Their strength usually came from each other and now nobody knew where anybody was or if they were okay ... if they were alive. Prue’s thoughts swam in clouded fishbowl of memories, almost like a pensieve but much duller. It wasn’t until she heard a soft shuffling that she was pulled from those thoughts back to her surroundings. All the students should have been evacuated, she thought to herself, listening as the sound grew louder. “Hello?” She moved towards the sound, hoping it was just a ghost making noise---for the first time in her entire life hoping to see Peeves trying to spook her or something. The train back to King’s Cross wouldn’t be back for .. well, she wasn’t even sure if it was still running with the ban up. “Every student should have cleared out the other day. Are you alright? Do you need help contacting your guardians?” Her questions, however, were only greeted with more shuffling and..gurgling? “Hello?” She asked again, more concerned now. “Do you need help? Come out so I can help you, please. Are you chok--ing...” Before she could finish asking the last one, she saw him. A small boy, shambling towards her, dragging his feet along the floor as he moved slowly ahead. His attention perked up when he saw her, beginning to move a bit faster, still shuffling and growling. Prue’s eyes widened, backing away as he came swiftly towards her. He was grabbing at the air as though reaching would bring them closer. He had the same glossed over look in his eyes that the people she’d seen on the street and the news did. Her heart plummeted into the depths of her gut, chest so tight it threatened to collapse on itself. Those people out on the streets were adults.. this was a young boy. Every cell in her body was screaming to get him to a hospital but she knew, deep down, that a hospital wouldn’t be able to help him. Not like this.

She kept moving backwards while the boy crept up faster until she finally pulled out her wand and flicked it in the air in his direction with a hoarse, “STUPIFY!” Watching as he froze up, body stiffened and tipped over, Prue swallowed hard, shaking at the sight. She carefully made her way over to where he lay frozen by the spell, eyes darting over his small body in search of injury. His skin was so pale, almost grey in colour and his robes were bloody. She moved his robes out of the way, lifting the hem of his jeans to reveal a fresh bite mark on his calf. She fell back, shaking even more now, slapping a hand over her mouth in horrid realization. This boy was bitten by something.. someone. Like the ones out there.. But how could he have been bitten inside the castle? Nobody had gotten in since they locked it down days ago and .... “No,” she whispered, barely audible, climbing to her feet. She needed to find McGonagall and fast and tell her about this. She didn’t want to leave the boy in the hall but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t carry him and even if she tried, the spell could wear off and she’d be in serious trouble in that case. “Crystals.” She called quietly, orbing the crystals she had in her room to her hands. She placed five recently charged quartz crystals around the boy’s body to form a cage he wouldn’t be able to escape from and nobody else would be able to penetrate. Clenching her jaw, she turned to start heading to the towers when she heard similar shuffling coming from the opposite direction. She turned to see not one, but several children of different ages, and a substitute professor staggering quickly in her direction. “Oh fuck.” Prue set off at a run, hurrying away from the group of shamblers but they were fast... She ducked into a small corridor that not many knew about behind a statue off to the right. Pressing her back to the wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before peering out again. She wanted to let them pass her so she could freeze them, but they weren’t all quite past the statue and one of them must’ve caught her scent as she turned around rather quickly and snarled directly in Prue’s face. It didn’t take the girl long to reach out to try and grab Prue but the witch was faster. She shifted, tossing her head backwards; she only wished she hadn’t caught the edge of the stone statue as she did, a sharp inhale with the pain piercing her skull but adrenaline keeping her moving. She threw her hands up instinctively, not bothering with her wand this time and froze the lot with her own magic. They stopped moving as a group, stuck in place where they stood. Prue squeezed out from between the statue and the girl in front of her with outstretched arms and snapping jaw. This time, though, she hadn’t bothered making the trek on foot. She orbed directly into McGonagall’s office, desperately hoping to find her there. Luckily for Prue, she was. Sitting at her desk, her worried expression almost mimicked Prue’s own about an hour beforehand. “Miss Halliwell,” Minerva’s head quirked up at the sudden entrance, her concern only increasing as she noticed Prue’s heavy breaths and her own terrified expression. The elder witch immediately rose from her desk and moved to Prue’s side, an arm around her shoulders as she guided her to a chair. “What is it, Prudence? What happened?” Prue couldn’t seem to find the words to describe what just happened, but she knew that she had no choice. The safety of the people left here depended on it and Prue wasn’t going to jeopardize that, regardless of how shaken she was at the moment. “Th--There’s .. they’re here, Professor. In the castle. The sick ones, they.. There are children out there... I mean, in the halls and such. They chased me through the Main Hall, Professor. I left .. a boy. I thought he was the only one but,” she shook her head, tears in her eyes. “What’re we going to do, Minerva? They’re only children...” Prue’s hand shot straight to her mouth, teeth instantly biting into fingernail. McGonagall grabbed Prue’s hands hastily, yet gently. “Honestly, Prudence, you’ve been chewing those nails of yours since you were a tot, it’s about time to break that habit, don’t you think?” Prue furrowed her brows, head tilted as she looked at her Godmother. “Are you-- Is now really the time to be picking apart my bad habits? There are students out there trying to...bite...people. And there’s a substitute professor among them--” McGonagall seemed to go pale as Prue spoke. Perhaps her pointing out Prue’s habits was a comfort thing for her..a sense of nostalgia in a time of crisis. She kept a grip on Prue’s hands, seemingly lost in thought. It wasn’t often that Minerva McGonagall was speechless, let alone completely lost for words. It worried Prue, to say the least. “Aunt Minerva,” It was rare for Prue to use McGonagall’s first name, she really only ever called her Professor (as instilled by the woman when Prue began school, so she wouldn’t be teased or tormented over any rumours of nepotism), but in these instances, when it mattered, she addressed her on their familial level. “What are we going to do?” The older woman peered down at her goddaughter with a heavy and saddened gaze. “I’m afraid, there’s not much we can do, Prudence. The hospitals are no longer taking anyone in..and our own hospital wing won’t survive the night. Madam Pomfrey cannot treat what she cannot diagnose.” She started walking towards her desk again, hands loosely slipping from around Prue’s, her voice matched the sadness in her eyes. “We may have to put them down ourselves, or rather, I will do it, if you can help me wrangle them to one location. I won’t ask you to--” “You can’t do that yourself..You’ll go mad having to do that. No, I’ll help you, I can..” “Prudence, I know you. You’ve never harmed a living thing if you could help it. You cried for days when Hagrid told you he was going to exterminate the flesh eating slugs when you were four. This is not something I take lightly and never would I ask you to take part in.” “You can’t do this alone,” “There are other teachers on the grounds who can help with this part, there is no reason that you .. should...” Her words were interrupted by a scream, causing both women to jump before running out down the staircase towards the sound. When they arrived at the bottom, however, they both felt sick to their stomachs at the sight awaiting them. The newest temporary member of their staff, Trinka Frye, who was on her way to becoming a full time professor at Hogwarts, was being mauled and chewed to bits by another young boy. Terror and pain filled the woman’s eyes as she tried to gargle out a cry for help when she saw Prue and McGonagall. Unfortunately, the boy had realized the pair was there as well and his attention was now on a new potential two-for-one meal. Prue pushed Minerva backwards, freezing the boy. She could feel McGonagall shaking, clearly not having witnessed this part of the outbreak yet..and especially not with their own involved, much less a child. Prue wasn’t about to make her do it.. she knew that she had to be the one. She turned the shaking McGongall back towards the stairs-- everything seemingly moving in slow motion as the boy started pushing through her freeze. The witch’s eyes widened again (honestly they might stay that way with how often it’s been happening the past week) but she took a deep breath and shook her head as if to clear it of any and everything before raising her wand. This was the very last thing she’d wanted to do .. .ever. She never thought she would ever have to use this bloody spell...A spell she despised.. The very Curse that took so many important lives from her and others. But it had to be done. There wasn’t a known cure as of now and all she knew was that the people in this castle were now in more danger than ever. She wasn’t about to lose another one to this... Without wasting another second, she swished her wand through the air, “AVADA KEDAVRA” She spoke clearly, though tears pricked at her eyes again as the green shimmering light left the tip of her wand and hit the boy square in the chest. It was quick, the boy was sent flying backward several feet away. She turned back to Minerva, eyes closed and shaking again herself. She never wanted to use that spell in her entire life. And here she was, using it on sick children...just because they hadn’t the resources to heal them. She felt disgusted with herself. McGonagall let out a breath of panic and wrapped Prue in a tight hug. She was about to tell her that she should have let her handle it when Minerva grabbed Prue’s shoulders and whisked her around to show her that same boy walking towards them again--a burn mark on his chest and his arm dislocated but still he ran at them. “How is that possible?” Prue asked, once again pushing McGonagall behind her. It was almost a strange turnabout, she could remember many times where she had been pushed behind McGonagall who shielded the young girl from danger...now it was she who shielded her Godmother from danger. She didn’t hesitate to stand in front of the woman who helped raise her and teach her so much of what she knows. Prue had so many questions but her main concern was, how to stop them if even the Killing Curse didn’t work? He even pushed through her freeze, which meant that group of shamblers from before were probably wandering about again as well. What a lovely thought that was. Again though, not a thought she had time to ponder just yet. Prue froze him again, trying to give herself a few seconds at least to think of something. Before she could, her godmother was all but yanking her up the stairs to safety. “Wait!” she protested, being led back up the twisted staircase. “Hold on, I have to --” “We need a plan, Prudence.” Minerva said finally, in her usual determined tone. “The Killing Curse didn’t work. We need another plan. We can’t stand in front of them and make guesses until they’re on us. I won’t lose you to this, Prudence. I have watched you grow into such a strong, intelligent woman..A wonderful mother.. I am so proud of you, I want you to know. And you, my dear, have a family to get back to. We will plan accordingly and we will not be losing anyone else this day.” Prue’s jaw clenched so tightly, she might’ve pushed her own teeth out of her head as she tried not to tear up at those words. She wanted to hug the woman but she knew there wasn’t time. McGonagall pulled out a large, intricate map of the school and laid it across her desk, as they began mapping out routes and shortcuts, ins and outs, safe zones to clear and even potential quarantine zones. They hadn’t gotten exceedingly far when they heard growling across the room. Prue ears perked, attention snapping the the entryway. “Shit,” “Language.” “Er, sorry..he must’ve slipped past the bird and got carried up by the stairs.” “Damn,” Minerva whispered and Prue smirked. “Language,” she mimicked, though quickly turned back to the door when McGonagall shot her that signature McGonagall look. The growling grew clearer as the boy came into view. “What now?” “I have one idea..If we can’t stop them with magic, we’ll have to get our hands a little dirty.” “What!?” Minerva grabbed the Sword of Gryffindor, smashing the glass wall of its home for the past ten years or so, and sent it through the air into Prue’s hands. “Are you crazy? I’m not using Godric Gryffindor’s sword to murder a child!” As she said that, the boy lunged at her, teeth snapping and limbs outstretched to grab her. A startled “Agh!” slipped from her mouth as she fell backwards, pushing the sword up as she did, feeling it pierce something as she hit the ground hard. The sword penetrated the boy’s chin up through the top of his head; his body now limp, teeth stopped gnashing and his arms no longer reached for her...they just dangled at his sides over the witch as she struggled to hold the sword and dead weight any longer. She yanked the sword free from the boy’s skull and dropped it in front of her, shoving the boy off her legs with a noise of disgust. She had blood on her hands where it dropped from his chin down. She stared at them for a moment, unable to process what just happened. Oh God, her chest heaved as it began to sink in. “I just.. He’s...What have I done?” McGonagall rushed over to check on the both of them, to make sure that the boy would not get up again, and to make sure that Prue was alright. “No! I am not alright. I just.. killed a child. With a sword.. The Sword of my House...How.. I’m gonna be sick.” She leaned over her legs, shaking her hands as if to shake the blood off them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the floor, her forearms pressed against her head. “I’m so sorry.” She felt Minerva’s arms around her, rocking the witch and shushing her to calm her. “It’s alright, Prudence. It’s alright. You didn’t kill anyone.” Prue shook her head. “I did..Yes, I did..” “No, you didn’t. Listen to me, Prue.” The younger witch was caught off guard by that, probably the intention, just as Prue hadn’t ever really formally called Minerva anything but Professor, McGonagall had only ever referred to Prue as Miss Halliwell or Prudence. She never used her nickname. When she knew she had her attention, McGonagall continued. “We’d been discussing it but we weren’t exactly sure before. I see now that we were correct in our evaluations. These people aren’t just sick, Prudence, they’ve already died and reanimated. They’re no longer themselves, you see, they come back differently. Violent.” “But... how can they .. necromancy?” McGonagall shook her head. “I don’t think so. This started with the muggles, dear. I think it’s a human disease. That’s why it affects us too. We are all still human, after all.” Prue inhaled deeply, looking at the body of the young boy on the floor beside them. He did look worse off than she’d ever seen even a sick person before... “So..if they’re..already dead, that must be why the Curse doesn’t work. You can’t kill what’s already dead.” “Precisely. That’s the moment I figured it out. When I had seen for myself that it wasn’t going to stop them.” “But then” she ran a fingertip over the hilt of the sword. “is this really it then? The only way? How can we.. isn’t there a cure or something?” Minerva sighed. “I shouldn’t think so. There is no cure for death, dear, you of all people know that. Even if there was, how much damage will the affected have suffered in the meantime? Maybe there is a way to prevent it..but I’m afraid, there doesn’t seem a viable way to reverse this. Not this one.”

“If all this is happening everywhere, I need to get back to Danny and my family as soon as possible. I can’t have them out there with these... What if they don’t know yet? What if they’re waiting for a cure or something? I’ll help you secure the castle, Aunt Minerva, I promise, but I need to get home sooner rather than later. Please help me do that.” “My dear, I want to get you back to that silly lion and daughter of yours as quickly as we possibly can, you have my word. We will do everything possible to get you back home.” Prue nodded, “This is my home too...I don’t want to see anything else happen to it..or to any of you.” She looked at her godmother, almost pleadingly as though silently begging her to stay alive. “Especially not you. Or Hagrid...” “Oh I don’t think you need to worry about Hagrid, he handles some of the most ferocious, dangerous creatures this side of the Forbidden Forest. You of anyone should know that he can handle himself. And I’ve lasted this long, I’ll go down with castle, don’t you worry.” “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” Then c’mon, let’s make it the safest place in Scotland again, hm? No more tears, for now, dear. Let’s get to work. Get you back home, shall we?” Prue nodded, sniffling and wiping her face with her forearm. “What’re we waiting for then? We’ve got a castle to secure. But um, I need to do something first. And also, we should probably bring Hagrid and Fang inside. I don’t think that hut is going to hold off a group of these shamblers when provoked.” McGonagall nodded, though she did ask what Prue needed to do. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry.” She needed to see Professor Frye to be quite honest. The last thing she’d seen of her was a scared, agonized woman in pain being torn apart. She couldn’t leave her there.. Not like that. Not to be left like roadkill on a highway for more buzzards to come pick at. When Prue reached the bottom of the staircase once more, her heart stopped as she saw Professor Frye there, though not how she’d expected. Her eyes were completely glazed over, just as her attacker’s had been.. and her skin the same grey hue. She turned over and began crawling towards Prue, making those same gurgling sounds as the others. Guilt welled up inside the witch as she knelt down in front of Trinka. “I’m so sorry this happened, Trinka. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you..” She reached into her pocket to pull out the pocket knife her father gave her when she started her fourth year of Hogwarts. It had a triquetra engraved and her name scrolled across the handle. On the reverse side it said, “Believe in yourself. We do. Love Always, Dad.” She clicked it open, brows furrowed in hesitation. She didn’t want to do this, but she couldn’t leave the woman here like this. Not like this... So she flipped the knife blade down, jamming it into Trinka’s skull as she came closer.

“I’m so sorry..”

[ to be continued... ]

#apocalypse now; day 6 #part 2 #v; long way home #pridexlands #drabble #headcanons

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shock777archive · 6 years

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No one encouraged me to write, but im gonna write out a small blurb for bbrae feels. to TEST THE WATERRRRS. give me feedback if you want ;A;

Raven didn’t know when exactly it had started. This newfound interest in a certain member of her team seemed to come in from nowhere. It was a sweet fragrance, a pleasant feeling Raven had never felt before....But these feelings did not come without their problems. Mood swings, loss of power control, and total numbing of her emotions had been plaguing her for weeks. When Beastboy looked at her, a shiver would go up her spine and a burst of energy would have to be suppressed from within her. Raven began losing sleep over this...it affected every aspect of her life in the beginning.

In her mind, her emotions rallied together and were in a frenzy. Bravery was in support of letting out the prisoner, joined with Happy. However, Timid and Rage stood between them and the locked door. Intelligence was present, but was for the first time in her life, confused.

Raven meditated on top of the tower near the sunset. As the waves crashed, she entered her mind where the locked door resided...The door she promised herself she would never let loose. The door was dark and chained with glowing lock and key, with very visible claw marks and cracks in the wood. It wanted out.

“Guys please...give it a rest. We need to come into harmony!” Raven spoke to her other visions of herself. Bravery and Happy were busy trying to push themselves towards the door as Rage and Timid guarded it.

“But Raven! It will make you so happy! I feel so happy when I think what’s beyond this door!” Happy smiled back, grunting as she nudged rage in the face.

“How could you let this happen to us?! HOW COULD YOU GO BACK ON YOUR WORD?!” Rage grumbled, pushing back Happy back into her place.

“I...I don’t know why this is all happening but you guys need to calm. down.” Raven said in a strict voice. She was trembling, unsure of what to feel herself. Her emotions were getting the better of her and she knew she couldn’t hold this back for much longer. “We’re all going to suffer if we don’t come into alignment.” She reiterated.

“Please don’t let it out...What will happen? I-I’m scared!” Timid cried. Bravery gave her a glare.

“We won’t know unless we give it a try! This new excitement...This bewilderment...The adventure!! It has to be opened now!” Bravery retorted. Timid shrinked away in fear.

“Raven is right.” Intelligence barged in. “We cannot keep quarreling like this. It will be bad for all of us.” She paused for a moment. “And yet....I’m intrigued to see what could come from opening that door...but...no I mustn’t! But...!”

Raven winced and her powers shook the tower. She nearly lost control of her meditation, but she grabbed it back and slowly sighed, getting back to the task at hand.

“Please...come into alignment...we have to do something. I haven’t slept in nights...My powers...they won’t work...and I can’t stop...wanting to open that God damned door!”

“No!” Timid screamed. “We can’t! We’ll all get hurt!”

Raven shook her head. She fell to the dirt in her astral plain onto her knees and grabbed her forehead in pain. All these emotions...all these voices...she just wanted it all to stop as they continued quarreling.

Then, out of the sea of voices, a familiar yet haunting one came from behind her.

“Raven?”

It was him. Raven broke out of her trance and swallowed hard. Beastboy had gotten near. “W-What is it? I’m meditating.” She said, annoyed. All of her emotions went quiet and the door started to glow with strength. All emotions stood still.

Beastboy walked over to her. “I just wanted to know if you’re okay?” He asked in a small voice. “You’ve been acting really weird lately...Is something wrong?”

Raven came down from her floating stance and stood to look at him. He had slimmed down in the face...his hair was styled differently...His muscles rippled through his new suit as he had matured. She remembered him saving her that one time...that one time all this started happening to her. She blushed in the face.

“N-Nothing’s...wrong.” She said shyly, as another shake of the tower was felt.

Beastboy let out a laugh. “I don’t believe you, Rae!” He walked over to her and stared in her eyes.

“Look. I know you’re...different than the rest of us and you need your space...but just don’t forget we’re all here to help you.” Beastboy put a hand on her shoulder, causing Raven to jump slightly. She looked up at him and their eyes locked.

“CONFIDE! CONFIDE! He may know something we don’t know!” Intelligence screamed.

“NO! You can’t let him know what’s behind this door Raven! It’ll end badly...I’m so scared...” Timid piped up.

Raven squinted her eyes tight. Beastboy tilted his head.

“Raven, I can’t possibly know what’s going on with you ....and I don’t know how to help...my jokes are funny, but sometimes even they can’t crack a smile.” He said in a low voice.

Raven slowly gazed at him once more.

“ Just know that whatever you’re feeling, don’t be afraid to feel them. Whether they’re good or bad.” He said. “I know your powers work and rely on them...just remember that time you turned this place into a haunted house!” He joked.

Raven sat still...not knowing what to do or say..but his words were weighted and they felt as if they spoke right to her soul.

“Just...feel what you need to feel and you’ll be able to control how you feel the more you let yourself feel...Wow. Too many ‘Feels’. Hehe!” Beastboy smiled.

Raven’s heart melted. The door inside of her mind exploded with shimmering light and blinded all other emotions in that instant.

Raven, speechless and in a daze, just stared at him. She didn’t know how to put into words what she wanted to say. But before she could even mutter a sound, Beastboy turned around and waved.

“I’ll leave you alone now Rae. But come down into the living area if you have time! Cyborg and I are gonna bake some vegan cookies and have chocolate milk! You’re always invited!” She watched him open the tower door, and slowly descend the stairs inside as the door shut behind him. She was alone again....

No, not alone. her emotions that were inside, temporarily muted, had awoken and looked up at the figure stepping through the door and out into the astral plain. The light purple cloak blew in the wind. A big glowing smile was painted on her face.

Raven began to feel her heart thump. As her heart thumped, she began to meditate once more. Entering her mind, She walked up tot he mysterious figure that had broken down that door. The figure grabbed Raven’s hand, and whispered a “Thank you.” Before all the emotions started glowing, and came into the center of Raven’s being. All of the emotions were absorbed into Raven- coming into alignment finally. The last one to go was the mysterious figure still holding Raven’s hand.

Passion.

Passion disappeared and came into Raven’s core...all was well once more, having accepted the truth.

Raven was in love with him. She could deny it no longer. Timid and Rage still squirmed within her, but the warmth from Happy and Courage and the gentle nod from intelligence seemed to, in that moment, nullify the others. Raven smiled and breathed a fresh breath. She opened her eyes and saw the sun finally set. As the stars began to come out, She stared at the sky...and felt herself drift into peace for the first time in weeks.

She smiled. “Cookies and chocolate milk sound just fine right about now.”

Raven left the top of the tower and went back inside.

#there #I WROTE SOMETHING #bbrae #raebb #beastboy #raven #GIVE ME FEEDBACK PLEASE #my art

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lubdubsworld · 7 years

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Veritas ( Jung kook x Oc)

Author’s Notes :

this may not be everyone’s cup of tea. i just feel like I've written enough soft stuff and my stories all sound the same to me, to be honest ..... so i want to venture into something different and some hardcore stuff.

The female character isn’t necessarily bi, but she has sex with her roommate. if you’re not into that then maybe you shouldn’t read this. i have this picture in my head about how this story should turn out and i’m just going to try and write it that way. it may not work out, so i apologize in advance in case it doesn’t.

Warnings : Prostitution, Dubious consent, Hard drugs, Violence. implied suicide attempts. Lot of really dark stuff . Please , if you have any remotely serious issues of trauma, steer clear of my writing. i do not sugar-coat.

Rating : 19 +

Chapter One.

December 24, 2019.

“You won’t be coming home tonight either, then, Milan” , Reina said, her eyes wide and dead as she stood in front of the full length mirror, thick black kohl smudged around her fingers as she traced her waterline , painting her eyes .

Her lips looked red, under the dim lighting over head and she was pouting a little, wet tongue poking out in a way that was vaguely erotic. She was wearing a purple baby doll, the top of her soft breasts lined with silvery white fur and the hips flaring out in a wavy pleats. The shimmery fabric fell around her in waves, like flowing water and i felt my breath catch because it was all so alluring. So magical.

I stared at her , mildly aroused. Not because of the way her breasts filled out her bodice, or the way her hips curved into hourglass perfection, or because of how smooth her longs looked, ankles encased in strappy peep toe heels. I was aroused because I was still a little riled up from the little bit of molly i had taken earlier and i knew just how her lips tasted, like peppermint and gin and strawberry lip balm.

My body wanted release. And I preferred her, to the ugly, panting men who smothered me into stained mattresses, hairy thighs and meaty arms holding me down and taking, taking, taking when there was nothing left to take anyway.

I wanted to move closer and hug her, wrap an arm around her and drag her into the bed.

She was so good at making me feel loved. So gentle and so careful. I loved her fingers inside me, because they were soft and long and kind. Soothing in a way not a lot of things in my life were.

I loved her.

It wasn’t a romantic feeling, but something that went far beyond it.

“I don’t know... it’s some famous guy...” I slurred, turning back to stare at my own reflection.

Reina had done my make up today and i looked almost exotic, my chestnut hair styled to lie half up and half down, the loose strands curling into shiny tendrils, thick and glossy over my bare shoulders. My lips looked shiny and slick, perfect to wrap around a nice pink cock, or so it would look to a potential client.

But it wasn’t just some potential john tonight.

it was a high profile client, an idol actor, some one who had a lot of money and a lot of clout. Someone important. And my boss had been adamant about either Reina or me taking the guy. Apparently, it was his first time with our company, and he wanted the highest rated whores in the place, ergo us. After three years, Reina and i had built a reputation for ourselves. We were good, still relatively young .

More importnatly, we were intelligent. We spoke english. We knew about the political scene in some obscure country and we could wear cocktail gowns and pass off for college educated professionals. Some men thought that soliciting an educated, smart girl made them better.

Yes, i paid a woman to let me in between her thighs, but you know what, she was smart.

“ oh, you better do well then. We can’t afford to piss them off.” She said with a little smile.

No, i couldn’t. My heart was pounding. Three consecutive beats.

Lub dub. Lub Dub. Lub Dub.

Jung Kook. Jung Kook. Jung Kook.

i felt sick, bile collecting at the back of my throat and a pain starting up at the base of my skull. Just the thought of him triggered nausea. Just the thought of his name... was all it took for me to want to reach the nearest sharp object, point it right at my wrist, slice through the skin , flesh and the veins till he fucking bled out of me for good.

Too bad it didn’t really work. i’d tried enough times to know.

“Milan.... hey!” Reina was saying something but I was done. If i was starting to think about Jung Kook, it was time to get distracted again. Keep my mind off him. it was the only way I could survive.

As i swayed a little, reaching for the little purse with the condoms and used a spritz of some spraymint on myself before slipping into some high heels, watching my blood red nails peek out of the peep-toe shoes, stark against the black leather.

“i’m meeting Han in the Hyatt. Later.” She grinned.

I hummed.

Reina had another client for the night, some Chinese businessman called Mr. Han who visited us twice a month, a handsome guy that Reina had always crushed hard on and I didn’t want to take away that little bit of happiness from her.

The man was married , would never do something as risky as leave his family for her , but for the duration of a few hours, she was allowed to dream. Allowed to imagine.

So I had agreed to take this client instead.

“You seem wobbly, Milan...” Reina said suddenly, fingers curving on my upper arm. “ Are you okay?”

i shook my head to clear the haze.

“I’m fine.” i said softly, reaching for the glass pot full of strong black coffee before pouring myself a glass and chugging it down. it would probably help a bit in sobering me up, by the time i reached the lounge downstairs where my supposed client was waiting. It wasn’t safe, being high when meeting a new client.

I kissed Reina sloppily on the cheek, before moving to the door and out into the carpeted hallway. I’d walked this path a million times, so my body was almost on auto pilot, and i fumbled with the zipper of my purse, awkwardly pulling out the little eye mask and putting it on. It had been a part of the instruction and i’d almost forgotten. i tied it at the back of my head, walking slowly tot he elevator. The coffee did help and by the time i pushed in the door of the loungue, i was slightly more sober.

I took one look at the three men gathered around the huge table and I felt a little bit of a foreboding. I was supposed to meet just one of them.

I stared at them , confused and slightly thrown, wondering if I’d conjured them up out of my conscience.

it wouldn’t be the first time , after all.

But they weren’t even looking at me and the man on the left , slightly younger than the other two and with a handsome face and a rough voice, gave me a smile and tugged on my arm.

“Come sit here, baby...” He drawled softly, patting my thigh as i sank into the plush velvet seat next to him. He went back to laughing with his friends and i found myself staring at the man next to him, still unsure where this was leading.

“I’m Mingyu, by the way. hang on for a while, okay? We’ll head up to the suite in a few minutes. ” He said suddenly, reaching out and gripping my chin, before kissing me on the lips.

i nodded softly, before voicing a tentative hello.

I drifted off afterwards, vaguely listening to the conversation and trying hard to sober up.

When his hand slipped up my skirt, i switched my mind off with practiced ease, letting him collect on the 300,000 Won he had paid for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, photos of Kim Mingyu exiting a supposed massage parlor which was notorious for prostitution scandals, were plastered all over the internet .

and somehow, I was the one under fire.

“I don’t understand.... someone leaked information about your client being involved with a prostitute in a massage parlor and this idiot thinks it’s you...”

I groaned in disbelief.

“apparently, he’d been talking about sleeping with that woman during the ... drinks thing that I met him at.. he was with a couple of guys and i swear, i didn’t even pay any attention to what any of them were saying.....but he thinks that i overheard whatever he’d said about the whole ‘ massage parlor’ thing he’d gone to and now.. it’s out on the news and his career is on the line, so he wants to raise hell over this....”

“Look... Mrs Lee knows about you... And i think he signs a contract too, before paying us. It’s not going to even be worth it. “

I shrugged.

“it’s still bad publicity, when you think about it. No one’s going to want to risk it, if this idiot goes around telling people that we give out private information.”

Reina sighed.

“What’s Mrs. Lee saying....” she said softly.

i shrugged.

“She wanted to talk it out with the guy. Hopefully, she’ll be able to offer him something or somehow convince him that i wouldn’t do stuff like that...”

“This sucks.”

I groaned.

“it sure does...”

“You wanna make out? “ She rubbed circles on my back and i smiled a little, moving to press my lips to her cheek.

“I’m sorry baby....i need to go the shelter. “ I said apologetically. Reina smiled, and brushed the hair off my face, her hands soft and gentle against my skin.

“You’re so good. I hate that something like you exists in a world like this...” She whispered and i laughed.

“I’m no saint, Rei.... Can i borrow your red muffler?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shelter was located somewhere near itaewon, and i took the bus, taking care to keep most of my face hidden underneath the muffler and the upturned collar of my fur coat. Over the past three years, I’d managed to fade out of memory. I stopped being ‘ the stalker who followed jung Kook to private party in HK’ and became just another, nameless faceless girl int he crowd of Seoul. But the fear was still there.

What if someone took a look at me and recognized me?

Jung Kook’s fans were scary.

My apartment broken into. My clothes ripped to shreds. Pigs blood smeared over everything i’d owned. Fired from my job. Kicked out of my home.

I swallowed. I had been an idiot.

And idiot in love.

And it had cost me everything.

The memories still burned bright beneath the surface though, just waiting to come barreling into my conscience. Those awful , awful moments as i stood there in a sea full of strangers , staring at the boy who had literally emant the tnitire world to me. The only thing that had mattered to me. the boy, i had spent the better part of a decade on.

“ Why on earth would I want something like you, when I can have any of these women, So Eun? You’re not beautiful. you’re not famous. You’re not even in the same league as me. Why the fuck would i like something you?? ”

I swallowed. I’d repeated those words to myself , over and over again . a million times. a zillion times. I thought , over time they would lose their venom. Someday they would lose all meaning become just words. you know, syllables strung together by a drunk nineteen year old who probably didn’t know what he was saying.

But they hadn’t.

instead they had just festered , like some untreated wound, oozing pus and attracting flies, giving out the sickening stench of rotting flesh and making me want to empty my insides . And they were still there, i thought bitterly. those words were still there, carved on the inside of my skull,

“Miss!! Careful.!!” someone’s hand closed over my arm , yanking me to the side and i gasped, surprised. It took me a second to realize , i’s almost veered dangerously into oncoming traffic. Bowing in apology and gratitude, I pulled my scarf closer and walked quicker, aware that a light rain had started.

The shelter was closed today and i called my friend on her phone, waiting as she came around the building to let me in.

Jieun lived in the building , and she took care of the pups in her custody like a mother would. I smiled wide as she bought the familiar mutt, curled happily into her arms.

“Hello Gureum!! hi unnie... ” I said , laughing as he growled, under-bite sticking out in a way that at first glance was slightly terrifying. I smiled, happy that i had finally found time to visit him.

Nearly a decade ago, when jung kook had left for Seoul, his parents had turned the poor puppy out of the house.

I had found him whimpering in a ditch and I had taken him in. But when I’d followed Jung kook to the city, it had been difficult to take care of him. but jieun had been running a shelter even back then and she had taken him in .

for the past Seven years she had taken care of him.i visited every week or even twice or thrice when i could spare some time.

But sometimes , I couldn’t come. i regretted that. Gureum was family after all.

Shaking my head, i took the dog into my arms, reaching into my bag for the dog treats and the small leather leash.

“Ready to go the park , buddy?”

As we walked down the streets to the park, the familiar streets, wet with falling rain and the fresh scent of damp earth, i felt daring enough to unwind the muffler from my face. the icy air hit me like a spray and I shivered, in a good way.

Gureum yanked on the leash, yipping loud , all of a sudden and i turned surprised. I went stiff when i saw the huge poster , stuck to the back of the bus stop.

It was Jung Kook.

“That’s... That’s just a picture buddy... that’s not your hyung...” I said stupidly, reaching down to pick up the excited little dog. “but don’t worry. He’s happy. He really is...Gureum.... wait...”

Gureum struggled a bit more, intending to run to the poster and it took me a minute to calm him down.

“it’s okay....” i said over and over again and I almost believed iot myself.

It was okay, I thought, once again , after he had quieted down and we had reached the park. I sat down on a grassy knoll, overlooking the little bit of the city and I un-clipped his leash , letting him roll around on the damp lawn.

“ It’s okay.” i said out loud, with a deep shuddering breath.

it would all be okay.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fics

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dontbethatshank · 7 years

Text

One Day

Request: “Can I have a request where in TDC the reader visits Gally in his apartment and she tells him that she's been pregnant with his baby since the Glade and his reaction is sadness because he's worried the baby won't like him because of what he did to chuck? And also in the Gally imagine can you make the reader explain that he's going to make a great father and gally becomes more happy about it and less sad.”

A/N: I set this as it’s actual apartments and just kinda bullshitted the scene like always, whoops.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Hunting down your boyfriend was harder than fighting off a Griever while in the Scorch, you decided. But you found him. Gally came back, you all saw him - but he kind of... disappeared. You would wake up, and his chores/jobs would be done. Firewood chopped, storage boxes built, blades sharpened, supplies were organized into boxes and labeled. But you never saw him - he was a creature of the night, but you knew he was avoiding you. You knew he didn’t want to look you in the eye. And part of you didn’t want to see him either - he killed your brother. He killed Chuck. But you knew it wasn’t him. You knew it. But he didn’t believe that.

Building E. Level 4. Hall 4C. Room 12.

Behind this door in front of you was Gally. A three inch, dark brown, mahogany wood door and a locking mechanism separated you from the love of your life. Your hand nervously trailed lightly over your stomach, your teeth sucked in your lips, and your hips swayed. You had second thoughts. You didn’t know if you could do this. If you could say it. But the door decided for you.

The door popped open and a rough, dry voice muttered. “Jack. Seriously. Go away. I finished my chores and I’ll go check the list in a few-” Gally’s tired voice said, rehearsed. But you cleared your throat and looked up, seeing the tall boy looking down, not even really paying attention. “It isn’t Jack. It’s me. And your chores for tomorrow are to get fire wood and to build new shelves. 8 feet high, 4 feet wide, 3 feet deep,” you said, before pushing the door open and sliding in yourself. Part of you believed - knew - Gally would shut the door once his mind registered all you said. So you left him no choice.

Gally shut the door, turning to look at you, his eyes had bags under them, his chest had gathered hair, his shorts had a random blue stain on them, and his feet were dirtier than your choice of vocabulary. “Y/N...” Gally mumbled, scratching the side of his neck as he glanced to the other side of his small apartment. You took a seat on a chair, your eyes flicking to the chair next to you. With a sigh, Gally reluctantly sat, but he sat on the couch a few feet from you, his eyes leerie to look at you as his head hung a bit lowly and his hands remained clasped together. He was just as opposed to this idea as you were standing outside of his door just three minutes ago.

“Look... we need, we need to talk, Gal,” you sighed, fingers raking through your hair. You needed to cut it - you hadn’t cut it since the Maze and it had grown ragged. “Y/N, I... I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry I just-” Gally began, an excuse bubbling up in his throat quickly and as if on command.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words came. The fell out. Easily. And Gally sat in his exact position, barely moving, his breathing seeming to stop. His eyes looked at you fully now, hurt almost. Confused. Asking so many questions at once. Your heart stuttered and you swallowed the fear in the back of your throat. He was a father. He deserved to know. You knew that.

“You’re the father. I... I 've been pregnant since the Glade. I... I found out only days before we escaped and... I didn’t know how to say it. Then everything happened and just,” you began and let out a deep breath. You closed your eyes, trying to find the words - hoping they were written on the back of your eyelids. While you thought, you suddenly felt someone's hands on you and jumped.

Looking down, you saw Gally kneeling in front of you, between your legs. His ear right above your belly button and his hands cradling on the lower of your sides. Your tummy was small. You were barely showing - you hoped it would be like that for most of the pregnancy, and it more than likely will honestly. Gally had a serene smile on his lips and you couldn’t help but feel proud. Feel like you were at home. Your hand easily covered his while your other hand slide into his hair and curled around the dark red, brown hair. Then Gally’s eyes looked up and they glossed over, his smile fading away as if it never existed.

“They’ll hate me. I killed their uncle. The baby is going to despise me,” Gally murmured, leaning back on his legs, his hand dropping to loosely lay on your lap. And your heart broke. You knew he was wrong - but you also realized your baby would never meet the beautiful light that was your little brother. And you wanted to cry for Chuck and you wanted to cry for Gally. And you wanted to cry to understand something.

“No, no, no. No Gal, no. They won’t. That wasn’t you. It was never you. It was WICKED. They... they killed Chuck. It wasn’t you. Our baby will love you. They’ll adore you, think you’re the most amazing person to exist,” you rambled, your hands finding his and holding them tightly. Gally turned his head tot he side and wiped angry, hurt filled tears from his eyes using his arm. His hands curled around yours and squeezed, his chest on fire and his body shaking from small sobs.

You cupped his cheeks and looked into the beautiful eyes that looked longingly into the night sky. And you saw the chapped pink lips that kissed all your burns and cuts every night and whispered a promise for a sweeter tomorrow. And you saw the freckles you counted when you couldn’t sleep and noticed he had a large one under his bottom lip you never noticed. And you saw the boy who loved so intensely and who tried so hard and always seemed to come up short in one way or another no matter how he acted. And your heart broke more than when Chuck died. Because you knew Chuck was happier, safer. He was watching you and giggling mumbling stupid jokes, waiting to see you again. He was okay. But Gally was in so much pain you could feel it radiating and rolling off in waves from his body.

It hurt to stand near him. You felt the pain and remorse. And it was such a suffocating mixture to inhale and move around in. It was terrifyingly saddening.

“Gally. Galileo. Look at me. Now. Look at me right now. This baby, our baby, is going to love you so much - so, so much. You will be the most amazing father just like you’re the most amazing boyfriend,” you said, a wicked and determined look twinkling in your eyes as you held his cheeks to force him to look at you as you spoke, “You’ll wake up and make our son or daughter pancakes when we don’t have work to do. You’ll teach them to build sheds and boxes and bed frames and bird houses. You’ll let them paint on your arms and you’ll cuddle teddy bears so they don’t think you’re alone at night. You’ll fight anyone who ever scares or harms your baby and will make sure they never have to live in the fears we did. You’ll sleep with our baby on your chest, a hand on their back, making sure they don’t fall or roll off - always protecting them even in your fucking sleep, you God damn fucking idiot.”

You were crying. Tears streaming down your cheeks. “God, you fucking moronic bastard. You’re going to be the most amazing father and our child will never be able to forget you or replace you or hate you. Never,” you said, your voice hoarse now. Gally’s eyes were bright red and puffy, his body shaking ever so slightly from emotions and over stimulation. He pulled you down, pulling you onto the floor, his arms around your center as he hugged you close to his body. He felt the gentle curve and his heart swelled. He smelt the vanilla and lilac lotion and hair wash you still use even now somehow. And he knew.

Gally knew one day things would all fall into place. He knew one day things would make sense. And he knew that, one day, he’ll be almost as amazing at being a father as you are at being a mother already.

He just knew. And so did you. One day was your promise to your baby.

#gally #gally tmr #pregnant #tdr #death cure #post maze #mazerunner #tmr #maze runner #gally imagine #gally imagines #gally preference #gally preferences #equest #requests #requested #gally x reader #pregnant reader #pregnancy

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365daysoflossworldajw · 7 years

Audio

#BrokenHolidays

Part One

Holidays aren't the same when there is a big part of your family missing. What happens when your heart JUST isn't whole? Broken heart, broken family, broken holidays. Just broken.

September

When Ari left this earth, her death left my family in pieces. The same weekend that she was killed, our parents were celebrating their anniversary. They were planning their annual trip to Atlantic City. But they could never have anticipated a celebration of their union would be ruined forever. I remember days after the accident happened, I overheard my mom explaining how she felt that night.

She shared that the night of the accident, she was having trouble sleeping. She explained that she was anxious and she didn’t know why. She thought maybe it was just stress, so she tried going back to sleep. But the feeling would not go away. She believed in the moments she was feeling anxious, the accident was happening. I truly believe that anxiety she was feeling, was from the pain that was being inflicted on Ari. I’m sure of it. The feeling my mother had was no coincidence. It was the feeling of loss, the feeling of change, the feeling of broken-ness. That is how she will always remember their last anniversary. The day of remembering a union, celebrating love, honoring the day they started our family… tarnished forever. How do you celebrate a life of love and growth when a big part of your family is missing? I cry for them, I pray for them, I do my best to be strong for them, but that day will forever be broken.

October

Remember fall got cold early? October was definitely cold and of course, dark. Because of…Halloween. During this month, I had so many dreams. It felt as though I had never dreamed before, and suddenly they were all coming at once. It could have been because the holidays were coming up and this is the time I felt lost the most.

About a week or two before Halloween I had a dream I’d never forget. In my dream, I re-lived the day that she passed. Everybody was on my lawn, in my house… everywhere. I was outside and I saw some of my friends leaning on Ari’s car. Then the dream went silent. You ever see in the movies where everything gets quick and then all of a sudden everything was in slow motion? Only in my dream, I was the one in slow motion. I turned my head to the right extremely slow and there she was. She was radiant and as beautiful as she always is. I asked “what are you doing here?” She responded “I’m only here for just one day”. As she slowly turned to make her way inside of the house she was glowing, like an actual glow. I started running after her like the kid sister I’ve always been.

She immediately went to the basement, as she was walking down the stairs I was literally on her heels. I asked, “Ari, do you watch me sometimes?” She responded, “Yes Tot, sometimes.” But her response was so like her. It was as if she was saying, girl sometimes but it’s all on you now, buck up. That’s how I knew it was her. She made her way back upstairs and now we were in the kitchen. I asked her if she was in heaven, she said yes. I asked her what it was like. She told me that getting there wasn't like what we’ve been taught. She said that God is like our father here on earth. She explained to me that when she made her way to heaven he met her up there. When she arrived, God painted a picture of her life and explained, “Ari your life was like this, you remember you went to the store and wanting a pair of shoes? You got the ones you really wanted and you should have gotten the ones you needed. That how your life was”. She said, “God is like daddy, he loves you anyway”.

After that I had some clarity, of course not complete clarity, but it was better than nothing at all. Then, memories started to appear.

Halloween

I began thinking of our childhood and all of our Halloween nights growing up. The Halloween parties, the trick o’ treating, the costumes. Ari loved Halloween. Me? Not so much. Halloween has never been my favorite. When we were little of course I enjoyed it. We always had the best costumes. I always wanted to be girly and the prissy one. Ari was always a wild card but still always looked adorable. I started thinking of moments in elementary school and how we were excited all day just to walk in the Halloween parade. I still remember Ari’s dimples and her smiling from ear-to-ear that day.

As we got older, Halloween for Ari became so effortless, but for her that wasn't new. Technically, Halloween isn't even a holiday but for some, it’s a day to just have a good time. It’s that one night you can be whoever you want to be, do whatever you want to do, to just be carefree. That was Ari. To me finding a costume to wear on Halloween was like a job. I dreaded getting invited somewhere, because I got tired of explaining to people that I came to the party as myself. But Ari always put so much effort into her costume. She came up with some really good ones too. I always would scratch my head and ask her, “like ok, is it that deep?” Her rebuttal would be as such: “Just because you wanna be corny Tot…” That left no room for me to respond, I mean she was right.

It was her thing, I wasn't mad, I just couldn't get into it. I remember we went to NOLA for Halloween for a dear friend’s wedding. Like who would of thought that we would be in NOLA for Halloween, amazing. She dressed as cat woman but regardless of what she was, she always looked mad sexy. Good for you Ari. She did that. Her creativity, her sexiness, it made her costume unforgettable every time. I know that everybody, literally everybody has a moment of Ari during Halloween.

As kids, and even as adults, we would watch ABC Family’s 13 Days of Halloween together as a family (just us girls). One of her all-time favorite movies was the Halloween classic, Hocus Pocus. That indeed was Ari’s jam and we watched that movie every year about 5 times out of the week, it was just our thing. I remember seeing that on TV for the first time after she passed and my heart dropped. The movie, that feeling I would get when watching it with her, it left, it wasn't there anymore. That moment was broken and it was never coming back. My mother was sitting next to me at the time and I could remember her asking me if it bothered me to watch it. Of course. Watching it reminded me of her and the memories that we have watching it together. But I had a little bit of joy knowing that she loved it.

That has been the hardest part. Re-living memories. But we have to. Just for her.

To honor Ari’s love of Halloween, I dressed up last year even though it was a struggle. I was a Jager girl of course. As hard as it was, when it came to Ari, LITERALLY nothing stopped the party. So why would I stop? She would say to me “Tot, you’re being corny, seriously”. So I won’t be corny, Ari. When I’m tired I’ll push for you. I’ll even put on a repeated costume.

I'll try to mend this broken holiday.

#SoundCloud #music #365daysofloss

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 18)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 17

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The Djinn effects had reasons. A miracle for the Witcher but a threat for everyone in the Continent and this mystery had you placed under a curse that will give you bad fortune for you future and a child that he sorceress plans on ruining.

Warnings: Mention of MCU. Iron man too. Blood. Witcher monster and sign. Curse words and degrading ones. Corporal punishment said and involved.

Words: 8.4k+

A/N: Ghost readers, please do reblog my fic if you’re reading this so others can see it as well. Also people who are in my taglist, I hope you leave even just an emoji of feedback or reblog if you’re done reading. I appreciate the tiniest dot of comment ISTG. I’ve been in a writer’s block (and also mentally exhausted from writing too) but I’m trying my best to give y’all content or an update for WOTN. My mind has been jumping from one character over another so feedback will be nice to receive. Thank you and stay safe.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors, this has been a result of fast editing.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

The Kaedwenians had the last laugh.

Jaskier couldn't keep you safe from anyone, not even a tiny fly. All he could do was be a distraction and be the special wingman for a witcher. But, when it's about protecting the ones he takes care of, Geralt has always been the answer to keep one safe---that he couldn't even take care of himself when he's caught in his shenanigans and monkey businesses.

His mutant friend could always be counted on, by hook or by crook.

Yet, he certainly will disappoint him when he knows what threat and problems happened after a day; only a darn day that he was away and kidnapping arose and hindered everything that the witcher wanted to avoid.

How did they know where his family even were?

Jaskier was limping alongside with Cirilla who has hauled him on her side, an arm slithering over his waist to drag him to where the dining chairs where. One out of ten? hence, this particular sunflower surrounded by a bunch of poison Ivy has been a bard all along.

Sunflowers don't have thorns nor poison. They were harmless. Soft. Bright. Just like him. But, the bees surely did its attack considering how he'd sliced two men on their necks. Nonetheless, it wasn't enough to keep you out of harm.

"Those bloody knights did a number on me!" he suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere; wincing and grumbling out profanities from his wounds as Cirilla went around to grab onto an empty pail, sprinting straight out to quickly come back with her bucket full of water for the bard.

Dried up blood designed his busted lip; plump and ruptured from the constant clouts he'd received. His lower lip were out in a pout, frowning his way from lightly tapping his wounds with a clean cloth; holding up a small mirror to his face. Disheveled doublet untied, the collar of his inner white tunic being a sketchpad of a kid who loved his red paint. Another nasty curse accidentally slipped out of his broken lip when Cirilla loudly dropped the bucket on the table with an obvious sight of panic, fright and anger written on her face.

Her thin, candle-like fingers slightly trembled from the handle and Jaskier had gotten a glimpse out of her fear, terrified for an important person in her life to be in the brink of death. Again. She didn't want it to happen especially when the princess has finally found comfort and light from you; like how her heart hoped to meet a woman who she could treat as her rightful mother.

She didn't want you to die; not like this, never. If only you could live long enough, longer than a normal human then it would be a part of her wishes.

"W-Will she be okay, Jaskier?"

Jaskier was hissing as he tried to take off his doublet. In his unfortunate case, he'd probably earned a fracture or two over his ribs and arm. But, it was far from any organ that will give him demise. He'd thought about it again before deliberating on leaving it on to continue patting the blood off his face, "No. I swear to the death of Valdomarx that the rat will not be fine in their hands, Princess Cirilla."

The bard went on in jawing away over his thoughts with some painful complaining here and there as he tried to wipe the blood off his face with a heavy amount of strength used because of how his arms were sore and aching, "Ow-ow-ow! Geralt needs to give what they want. However, going to the south swamps will be the only solution to alert the witcher,"

Jaskier tutted in exasperation when his dampened cloth grazed through the wound, making him sigh and close his eyes to calm down. The child has done the same, copying his reaction before reaching out to grab onto the cloth and tried cleaning his wounds for herself. He bellyached away over how she's been cleaning the wrong places but a simple sharp, warning of her blue eyes kept the toubadour fidgeting from the child care.

"It's been how many hours already since she was taken?" he sounded incoherent from trying to talk with his mouth never closing as Cirilla tried to pat over the pillows of his lips. She made him repeat his question, moving away from him to dip the cloth inside the bucket and squeezing the excess water out.

When she'd heard him repeat it much clearer this time, she thought for a second before turning her heel to face him again, raising a finger to show him the time it took.

"An hour or two."

He weakly nodded more to himself. The accident was utterly fresh inside their minds and Jaskier couldn't help but worry as the clock ticks by because he knew and understood that the people in their world were more cruel and grating to be with than in your kingdom that you have lived in for years, the bard was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down with his thoughts and solutions going in places.

"We can't go to where Geralt is tomorrow," he noted as a matter of fact, pausing to glare at Cirilla who leaned close and started caring for his wounds with heavy hands, "---all we can ever hope for is wait for the gods plan. Hush now, princess."

In Cirilla's point of view, hearing his response drove her bananas. They just couldn't wait for Geralt to arrive when he'll be taking up three days before telling him what has happened. What if you were already being punished because of their false accusations about you? Geralt's child of surprise has heard everything. Even from the time that the troopers has been kicking up a fuss over the woman named Savia that looked entirely like you.

She'd even saw the fight between Kolby; seeing him run away so suddenly broke her heart as much as yours did. Will he ever come back? the princess thought at the back of her mind from overrating. Will you ever come back to their lives again or will Geralt be too late to save you from their dirty hands?

The lion cub of Cintra has pulled away from treating Jaskier's wounds, straightening her back when she began to let the negative thoughts go to her head.

"How about Kolby? I---I've seen him run away!"

Jaskier grabbed the cloth out of her hands, trying to sanitize his wounds instead. He'd tightly blinked his eyes, the left side utterly benumbed from their sucker-punches and he knew a black eye would come forth soon whether he likes it or not. The bard wasn't even on an adventure with the witcher, yet why has there been an incident where he'd been belaboured till he was bleeding with a hobble.

"He'll come back, dearest Cirilla. We can only hope for the best and also for Geralt to do his witchering---the heightened senses, I mean. Do you think his hearing can reach from here?"

They've been surrounded by silence after that. It was already morning by the time that Cirilla has successfully helped the bard to his feet, earning minutes of pure inveighs against what they've done and why Geralt decided to leave earlier than they have arrived. Their house was left as it is and it seemed like the only job that they needed to do was hold you ransom for what they wanted from the witcher because they knew what was happening beyond the four corners of their house.

The Kaedwednians have acted like they knew you were important to their family; beneficial to be taken for hostage and a crucial person for Geralt that would make him cave in to their desires.

Hence, they probably were right when Jaskier and Cirilla has heard the fast, pitter-patters of a horse from a distance; riding towards the house in a canter. Geralt's family looked at each other with knowing faces before Cirilla's face fell from thinking about the pessimist side of her head.

"I--I hear galloping!" she exclaimed before Jaskier noted the pale look of her lips like she has been thrown a bucket of ice on her head, "---What if its them again?" her lips began to tremble this time with a high pitch tone that says she was nervous and scared because she wasn't ready yet.

"What if they're back to capture me this time?"

They have been living in a world that scares her and when the right time comes, Geralt promised to take her where she'll be trained better to become like him for when danger and chaos tries to make them stay, the princess will know how to defend herself from the risks and threats. But, the witcher would still protect her no matter what happens because it is his duty and also because she has already been an adopted daughter to him. A daughter that he cherishes despite acting cold and dispassionate about the idea.

You knew she was important to him, a daughter that he somehow cared for from the moment they met. Geralt has told you this in the middle of the night, trying to tell you stories as he slept, managing to ask him about Cirilla and how she was involved in his life. The witcher never did plan it along but their destiny has made it happen for them to meet. She was the girl in the woods that people have been telling him about and the law of surprise that he has given voice that had you in awe because their world consists of beliefs and preternatural principles that never existed on earth.

Jaskier felt like his whole body grow numb and forgotten what the pain that the cavaliers has inflicted upon him when he suddenly stood up, apprehensively grabbing onto Cirilla's shoulders and looking around to find her somewhere to hide.

The heavy set of footfall started to tread near, out of the threshold of their front entry. With a swollen face and bloody clothes, he grabbed onto her wrist and tried to pull her out of the kitchen and onto the back door of their house with a need to keep another person safe and away from danger. They've already taken you and Cirilla was out of bounds.

"No. No. That can't happen. They have no idea who you are. Run in the woods. Away from here, alright? Don't worry, I'll get to find you---Geralt will find you again, I promise you---has he taught you little tricks here and there? If not---"

The loud crash of a door opening has got Jaskier in full-protective mode; pulling along Cirilla to stand behind him with a hand outstretched open in front of him to tell this person to stop from their attacks. Until they've seen a person whom they were praying to the gods appear before them utterly shambolic to their shock.

"Geralt?! Oh dear, gods! What happened?!" Jaskier yelled out loud, their breaths hitching from the picture that stood before them.

Geralt's ruined armor was off; keeping the black under tunic on that has been torn with holes. The openings held blood under the apertures of his ravaged shirt. His face seeming to be the only one left untouched from the burns and wounds. His hair was dirty from soot and darkened, moist like sand but his breeches has been surprisingly free from the scratches that his upper clothing has received from.

Cirilla couldn't help but feel the warm, hazy moisture of her eyes fill her vision from seeing him stand in the middle of their hatch, the fish bones that stuck inside her chest finally breaking free from Geralt's appearance because hope has arrived for them.

"Geralt! You're here!"

The latter couldn't believe his eyes. They were safe. His family was safe from the show that the Kaedwenians tried to scurry them off with.

Relief washed through Geralt, his Aureate peepers widened from being stunned at seeing them both.

"Jaskier. Cirilla. You're both okay." he stated in a monotone manner, his gaze examining their forms when he'd realized Jaskier has been beaten to pulp.

The hold on his sword that rested on his palms tightened from seeing red. If there was blood involved, then something bad has happened especially when he'd lately realized that his family was missing one special person that came with the ménage he had.

You. There was no midget. Were you just hiding in a corner? Trying to be playful like the person you are? Where you hiding upstairs and planning to surprise him?

Jaskier paid heed to his sudden silence, the peeved look within his eyes that held a flicker of catastrophe because he couldn't see his midget with them.

He didn't know nor realize that seeing you gone like you never existed felt like an Nightwraith has tried to rip his heart open and eat it to their satiation.

Cirilla sprinted to where Geralt stood, immediately wrapping her arms around her step-father that she also holds dearly till the moment; she'd hug him, the embrace simply an allegation of fear, telling him that it was the right thing to come back earlier than they expected him to.

"I'm so glad you're here!"

The witcher wholeheartedly accepted the embrace, patting her head that was shoved to his chest despite of the wounds he has; just thoroughly relieved that she wasn't taken. His sword fell on the side with a loud thud as he'd look away from Jaskier, his eyes shifting from high and low, finding the Hirikka not in his place under the dining table as well.

"The midget? where is she?"

Howbeit, knowing the answer. He still wanted to hear what happened from the poor bard.

Jaskier subtly coughed, alerting that his tale was ready to be told. But, Cirilla has cut him off with her voice bawling out to Geralt, frowning against his chest as she loudly sniffed. The tears in her eyes dripping down as she couldn't help but keep the emotions balled up inside her chest anymore. Shock. Fear. Worry. Care. All together, it was brought and made with tears.

"Th-they've...they've taken her away from us! She saved my life for the second time, Geralt! You owe her everything!"

Geralt didn't answer at that and just patted her braided hair to soothe her worries---her braided hair that you have fixed before being taken. He was already too maddened on the inside to even hear that Jaskier began to start his story.

"So, do you want a simplified version or the dramatic one? I hear you choose the second option, so here it is!"

Cirilla sobbed against his chest when Jaskier started. His thoughts was filled with you. He was angry, irritated and dumbfounded that you've been offering your life in exchange for Cirilla to be safe. You always did. Hence, he didn't know if he was thankful of your selflessness or utterly vexed from how kind you were at heart.

"Fuck." he whispered to himself, Jaskier's voice going on and on in the background as if it was their music, his next words sounding exasperated as he simply sighed out of his nose and closed his eyes in frustration.

"---Midget..."

Jaskier was unaware that Geralt wasn't listening to his nonsense blabbers until he got straight to the point. He'd even told him how he rearranged and hid the bowls where you couldn't find it which made the witcher give him a simple raise of his brow.

Cirilla cut the hug when she was feeling dandy enough. Geralt gave her one final reassuring and affectionate pat on the head before grabbing on his fallen sword with a scowl on his face as he listened to Jaskier run his mouth.

"---So, I've been punched in the gut from different kind of Cavaliers. The Kingdom of Kaedwen can suck my arse---I've learned that from the rat by the way---and I've bled to the end of my second life. Hence now, this is my third---Hallelujah!---Kolby listens and follows every command but he's gone now and we don't know where he is---even tried to save me and her but the vampire is too strong---not that it isn't surprising,"

The simple action of grabbing onto his sword inflicted pain onto the fairly large wound on his lower rib which made him hiss. It was from the burning blood of the Bloedzuiger that he somehow managed to not shield himself with; forgetting to use Quen in the midst of battling.

"Tybalt." he understood completely, knowing exactly who tried and planned to get you from him for their use. They still haven't found the witch and needed to find her as soon as possible. Geralt wandered over the kitchen, closing the door behind him as he lowly grumbled to no one in particular.

"---They still want me to lift the curse. They want me to kill their monster,"

Their ears perk from the admission; watching the witcher peel his damaged under tunic off with an aggravated sigh as he stood in front of the dining table. He'd taken a lot more injuries than he most likely does; even had his energy spike to its lowest due to wanting to get the job done in less than half an hour. Hence, this resulted in accepting more wounds and detriments by rushing the whole task.

Geralt has already taken potions for him to heal on the way. Some of the smallest wounds has been healed. Though, the deepest wounds did not yet. It would certainly earn him a scar or two from it but he never cared.

"You're bleeding, Geralt. Where are you going?" Jaskier sauntered to his side with a wince from seeing more blood than what he normally sees, Cirilla also pulled a face and watched the witcher heavily sigh from examining his opened wounds. He deeply had a grimace on his face as he does when he tried to explain.

"It's from the Bloedzuiger's blood," he gruffly muttered, only answering the troubadour's first question.

His talkative friend circled around him to be met with the nastiest laceration that he has seen. Jaskier's nose scrunched in repugnance from what stood before him for the first time in years, "You've never taken enough damage like this before," he claimed as a matter of fact; in deep conjecture as to why he seemed to be in adrift prior to his hunt.

Geralt's attention was solely on the gash that could make him lowly groan in the back of his throat; rough and sounding uncomfortable from the pain it was giving.

"Jaskier, stay with Cirilla. Keep hidden and never go out until I come back with the midget," he gruffly started when the princess has rushed upstairs to find gauze to help with his lesions.

The Weccan leaned over the table, his palms on either side; flat on their wooden dining table with his ruffled hair framing his features and his head bowed down as he deeply pondered, his worries all about you because they've kept you ensnared. They knew he would come for you. They knew they will be expecting a witcher to welcome and they were right.

"---we can't leave the midget within their reach. They'll know her existence---Ingrith of Helmfirth already knows her existence,"

The bard's eyebrows were knitted tightly together in confusion for what he has heard, stammering from all the questions inside his head that kept on bothering him. He leaned on the table beside Geralt, bright blue eyes inquisitive and confused, "What? how---how did you even know she was gone? I thought you didn't know the sorceress?"

"The Djinn placed the midget and I in a spell where I can feel what she feels and I knew she was in danger,"

Jaskier gave a hesitant nod, deliberating over what he's trying to figure out from all the phenomenon that he has encountered, "Like some curse?"

Geralt shot his head up to nonchalantly give him a glimpse of his convinced golden peepers, pursing his lips, looking away to stand straight and lean away from the table.

"If you put it that way, we can call it a curse then."

The white wolf left Jaskier in the kitchen and drifted towards the stairs, making him trail behind; walking with a phrase of protests over the half naked witcher taking his flight.

"We need to treat those wounds before you step foot in the castle, Geralt."

There was no need to beat behind the bushes in Geralt's protective instincts. Specifically when you were in a risk to be hurt by their filthy hands. He took the staircases with his heavy footfall, roughly reassuring the bard from his worries.

"Already did. I'll be fine, bard."

Once they've reached the second floors, all wounded and bloody; both Geralt and Jaskier, they stood in the middle of the wooden hallways. Eye to eye as they were having a serious talk. Their voices echoing all over the place, "She saved Cirilla's life for the second time around," Geralt huffed and gave one seething sigh when the pain on his lower rib was burning. He certainly needed them to gauze his wounds before leaving.

"---even helped you forget about that knight you were fond with. I need to save her,"

Jaskier's mouth fell open from his bluntness, believing that you have been used as a person to forget his previous ones. He'd wiggled those slim shoulders of his, hands on his hips and keeping his head held high. A fake cough left his lips, thinking of ways to get back from being attacked figuratively by Geralt for a lot of times already.

"I won't let another slip away again, Jaskier."

Jaskier raised a knowing brow, sharing a bloody compact with the witcher as they stood against each other dripping with their own wounds and blood; an understanding that they both could only comprehend and would silently agree to, "I understood Durriken now," he gave a firm nod, convincing himself for his sentences.

Geralt squinted his eyes back at the bard, judging him from the back of his head and reading between his lines.

Jaskier talked to Durriken when they've left the other day. He tried to know what they've talked about because the bard was full aware of how the switch has turned inside Geralt's peculiar, introverted mind from that moment in the marketplace.

Durriken knew before everything could even happen---perks of being a fortune teller, believing that you had a reason why you've arrived.

Jaskier raised a finger to his front, a sassy brow raised as he firmly claimed, "She's the witcher's destiny. The reason she's here is because..." pause. "---of you, Geralt."

Julian just couldn't keep still and watch everything unfold. He knew Geralt and what ticks him, understood the simplest gestures that had a whole lot of meaning behind it. Jaskier can't help but pry around when it involved the white wolf.

This was why he was the bard who stood by his side because he tried to understand him for who and what he was. A person who truly cared, a friend who truly accepted him; though, most of the times, he was there to annoy the shite out of him.

"And that's why she needs to be saved. I can't let her die, Bard." Geralt honestly spoke, the truth being said rather than staying silent like how he would usually do.

The bard has given him a satisfied smile, his beam widening once he jested, "Oooooooh! I've waited for this moment to come so I can finally say it after decades---In other words," he playfully bantered, finding the right words to get back for receiving his bluntness, "---you love her, Witcher. Don't you?"

Cirilla held the ripped, long, white clothing to her chest. The door to her room slightly opened as she tried to listen onto what they were arguing about, they weren't. The word 'love' peaking her attention when Jaskier lightly tried to poke on Geralt's honesty, irking him to the bones and hoping to get something out of his sudden uprightness.

Lo and behold, as soon as the witcher opened his pretty mouth, they were left disappointed from a hum that he'd habitually does everyday when he wanted to stay silent.

"Hmm."

Retrieving no answer from such an important, scandalous question that would be a fact once it was positively answer; a simple 'yes' would've been evidence that the white haired witcher was actually capable to experience a certain feeling that would make him more human than he can ever be.

All you could see was darkness. No visions nor imagery of where you were going as an empty sack has been forcefully placed around your head. Tybalt has kept you immobilized within his arms that surrounded you. The sack was needed so there was no risk of escaping which can happen if you knew your ways just like their previous capture who happened to be a thief that knew the directions of the kingdom.

The sack was tightened around your neck, making you choke once they roughly shoved your shoulders to move as you were curtly placed down by the vampire. Pavement. Rock pavement. You silently thought as you felt rough hands grip your arms so tight. On either side, they were controlling you and assuming who they were; you knew it was cavaliers.

The gates seem to open as you've heard the loud screeching of a sound. A couple of harsh tugs; here and there. Some offending remarks you've received when you tried to thrash against their holds. They were calling you 'the witcher's whore' or his tramp that made you frown behind the empty sack of potatoes used for your head.

Footfalls can be heard all around you. They were everywhere and all heavy, marching as if they have a purpose as to why they were there. There was no idea as to where they tried to confine you; in a large cage? a building where all their prisoners are there in jail? or were you in a castle? their palace?

The men on either side of you dragged you strengthfully towards where they wanted; making you bark back despite of being temporarily blind for their purpose.

"I know how to walk, okay?! Stop dragging me around like I'm your rag doll!"

Tybalt loudly scoffed from behind, walking through the stoned hallway that directed straight towards the hoosegow where an Elven has been kept for a month, "Prisoners shan't be complaining, ye' know?"

A loud thump and squeaking of a door made you hastily look around in panic; thinking that you might be thrown in a huge fireplace so your body can be burnt to dust because they knew your existence here didn't actually existed and if you do get to be cremated, nobody would even care.

Will Geralt try and save you for the third time?

From the day that you have been taken and cared for in their home, it was already an act of protection. He didn't think twice to adopt and let you have a part of their house; saving you from an Alghoul who was hunting you down and planning to make you its meal. But, Geralt killed it for you.

The white wolf has even killed men for you to feel sympathy for. When Geralt of Rivia protects one person, he would surely not think twice but to put an end towards their life; as long as they were evil or hurting another.

He was one of a kind and the affection you have for him needed label. You were understanding everything now; the care and worry you feel whenever he goes for his hunt, how the sting feels inside your heart whenever he tends to become a lot more quieter rather than usual, thinking that he was avoiding you because he'd realize how much of a burden you are in his life.

Also considering the feeling of happiness whenever he sweetly touches you, feeling his skin on yours like it was destined for sensations to occur. Sensations that only he can transpire out the the earth's perimeters.

You comprehended it very patently. It was love that you had for him. You hoped it was because lust or infatuation never has given the effects like what you've been interpreting from the witcher.

No secrets can't be revealed as long as it was true especially with undisclosed matters. Hence, you planned to tell Geralt as soon as you get to see him again.

That is, if your future around the Kaedwenians won't involve you and death rolled together as one.

Their tight grip has made your arms sore. You were flailing your arms away from their grasp and the violent reaction that they have gotten from resulted in you being pushed to the ground, creating your healing gash with another deep wound that made you yelp. They've quickly yanked the sack off your head; all unkempt from being cramped, hurriedly keeping you inside the slammer as they marched away to lock up the thick, metal railings like you've committed such a harsh crime.

You've held onto your scrapped knee, seeing blood on the pads of your finger and it made you aggressively scream from where you've laid hunched over the cold stones beneath you; igniting the tiny, surprised jump from the knights who were guarding your cell.

The tight coil on the top of your stomach was starting to move; meaning to say, another panic-attack was starting to give rise because of how uncomfortable and eerie does it felt to be in jail from the past era. It was more ominous and uncanny rather than what jail looked like in the modern period.

You were heaving breaths, turning around and staying flat on your bottom to see the armored men squinting their eyes back like you were some weird creature, the notion of being Geralt's lover sickening their bones as if they were much of a better man than he is. They weren't. Geralt was better than them---soul-wise. Their gauging eyes made you giggle aloud in a sarcastic tone.

"I can't believe you are all actually humans---"

The lock of the door jiggled, people behind the entrance loudly pushing it open; in which Tybalt and a lady with glowing purple eyes emerged from the hatch.

"My lady," Tybalt started with a sultry tone dripping on his tongue, subtly nodding his head off to where you were hunched over.

This woman in front of you didn't look entirely human after all, you mentally thought. Glowing purple eyes; with her shoulders rolled back with a head held up high, such stance that made her look powerful. It was enough to make you cower.

She was a beauty even. Utterly bewitching from a woman's perspective. A high bridged nose, glassy dark skinned complexion that came with a pouty lip. The grotesque woman was enchanting in the eyes of men if her physical aspects could make you dumbfounded.

"Incredible." the latter spoke in fascination, taking heedful steps close amongst the lines of metal hinges. The luminescence of a torch has caught her purple eyes, glowing against the light as if magic was flowing through her veins; utterly strange because no normal human had eyes like hers, nor have you seen one in Geralt's dimension up until today.

"Another...you," she continued, her eyes cast upon you when she took heed of your familiar face.

"---It's true. There has always been another dimension,"

You've looked around, avoiding her discretionary gaze, a gaze that held corruption or malign beneath the colorful hue of her beautiful colored irises. They were winsome; however, her allurement came with a thorn that would surely make you bleed when touched.

"I'm..I'm not---"

Straightforwardly, she pointed out with a silent and warning tut, "There is no use of lying, little one. You are talking to a sorceress,"

As that has been mentioned, you couldn't help but snap your head and turn to look at her. Your eyebrows knitted together with eyes scrutinizing her features. Was she the sorceress that Geralt has been in love with? you questioned mutely to your alter ego. Ingrith was hasty enough to know that judging look in your eyes because of how your witcher has been involved with sorceresses after sorceresses or mutant and mystical beings.

He was known for it and based on how you were judging her, your mind was also well aware of how infamous he had been with women.

Geralt of Rivia was given a lot to choose. Yet, he has chosen a powerless, vulnerable, less of a beaut than what he would've picked and Ingrith wanted to laugh for his choices---what he planned to be destined with a dangerous life ahead.

"You're the Yennefer one?"

"How do you know her, thief?"

An obvious shake of your head was given; shaking the worry away from seeing Geralt's long lost love working in a castle and also for the queen and king. That wasn't just the reason why you didn't want to see Yennefer anymore, another justification as to why you didn't want to was because of the bigger chances that you would be going home in one way or another when the white wolf wanted to because there was no proof or evidence that he wouldn't send you home. Sure, he has said several times already that you were his home---however, what if his feelings changes especially that his relationship with the sorceress has been ruined from a certain fight you didn't know about?

Did Geralt feel the same way about you? Was it love or merely just infatuation?

"Nevermind. You're not her." pause. "---also, why are you calling me a thief, lady?!"

Your eyebrows knotted closer than ever from her assumptions. It wasn't just Tybalt or his goons calling you a thief, even the sorceress too. Ingrith pulled away from the bars, dusting her gloved hands from the dust that was transferred to her leather mittens like the people sitting behind closed bars were infectious. She'd given Tybalt a look, her face indistinct of what she wanted to feel for seeing the real you.

She ignored your yapping as she asked the vampire beside her, "Are you sure she's destined with the witcher as a lover?"

Tybalt gave her a small nod, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you give him a glare back, "Yes, my lady. Last time I stabbed the little woman, the witcher was all feral, ye' know? It was quite fun to watch, nevertheless. This whore seems to be very important for him,"

"He'll be coming then."

Your knotted eyebrows suddenly went up your hairline at that. She sounded too enthusiastic for Geralt to come by; her voice masking a mixture of anticipation for seeing him and also hoping for something else when he arrives. It was a tone that only women could understand in their own language and you couldn't help but go livid.

She wanted something from your witcher and it doesn't look nor does it feel right because you could sense your eye twitch.

"Hey, sorceress of doom. I'm not a child. My womanhood is fully developed if you wanna know because you sound like you're insulting my height---thank you very much because that wasn't a first---Also, you sound like you want to fuck my witcher!---My witcher!" you bluntly stated, the tip of your tongue feeling vile and bitter from the truthfulness of your words. Jealousy being the root of it all and probably intimidation over this sorceress.

She wasn't that Yennefer yet. What if it was her already?

"---Find your own witcher! He's coming to save me, not give you a rumpy pumpy while you are all keeping me in prison!"

Ingrith could feel her temples have gotten flicked from that. Your attitude was making her blood boil---a know-it-all in a world you hardly knew about. She was beginning to come to a realization that your mouth needed barricade, it needed to know where you stood because apparently, she was having the upper hand and you were munching on her toe figuratively.

"Are you sure about that?" Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact; her lips curling into a sinister grin and this is what gets her going, "---you sound like you don't know your witcher too well, child."

"---You haven't heard the truest tales of him then. Your witcher loves to bed women in all brothels---Witchers leave all the time because that's what they do. They travel anywhere to hunt monsters,"

Your mouth was ready to throw curses after curses. A few steps close toward the bars made her grin wider to see your tough facade falter in the tiniest, seeing it from behind those confused eyes of yours. A mixture of fighting for what you had with a self destructing insecurity that makes you overthink of the future despite not talking it through with your mutant of a lover.

Ingrith didn't back down to that fight you have been mentally trying to assault as she was wiser to knowing your existence had a count down with them around.

She only needed to know where the portal was; options would be a sorceress back in your world which transported you to the continent. Second is a physical egress that has been never found nor discovered by anyone yet. From your kingdom to theirs. It wouldn't just be a theory because when the conjunction of spheres started, all hell broke lose in the continent. So, the idea wasn't completely a hypothesis that didn't hold zero percent chances of it.

All Ingrith needed was evidence and she will surely get the answers out of you even if she'll be using corporal punishments---even to the point of drawing blood until you say words she wanted to hear.

The sorceress began to wind you up a lot more, finding amusement from the reactions and tiny twitches of your face which tells how upset you are as she ran her mouth with endless gibes, "---your beloved Witcher can't be satisfied with one woman in all his life especially with a human like you because one ages slower over the other."

She crouched before you behind bars, gritting her teeth together like a feral hound trying to mark up his or her prey.

"You don't have magic. You aren't mutated and you die like normal men," Ingrith seethed, her eyes piercing and full of hatred towards you.

---Or maybe from mankind itself. You tried to understand where she was coming from or what she was taking a stand to. The sorceress in front of you thinks of herself as if she is higher than most human alive and probably a power-hungry feline where she would take revenge on whoever has hurt her.

It was that, or she just thinks she's above all because of the power and magic that she has been lucky to have.

"They have no capacity for emotion because of the combination of their hard training, genetic modifications, and seclusion from society. I suppose love is important and heartfelt in your world, correct?" the sorceress articulated with a scorn, "---Not to Witchers, my dear. I doubt he would love you as you expect him to. You'll only be the woman who tried to substitute over Yennefer of Vengerberg's position,"

You've given her a petulant expression and a moue that could make plants wither from the hate of seeing the sorceress. She couldn't help but send a ridicule as Ingrith also feels the same, "You are not special. The Witcher needs a person who does not give him more weight on his back---he needs a strong, independent woman who can save herself from being locked inside a cage and not screaming help for him,"

Ingrith of Helmfirth brought to a stand, her eyes throwing daggers over your kneeling form. You were easy to intimidate and certainly effortless to scare away just by the height differences. She simply chuckled when all you've ever done was give her a purse of your lips and a death stare that has probably killed her inside your head for a lot of times already; yet, you were helpless, inundated and incapable of doing such from a mortal.

She knew it; sensed that you held no magic.

"I didn't need you attacking me this way," you quipped with a shake of your head, sighing from the tiring conversation that was taking a toll on you no matter how unaffected you try to appear. But, you were futile to their world and even to a government that was quite unfamiliar to you, authorities that didn't care about the welfare and lives of people.

Sitting back on your derriere with your legs in a criss-cross position, you've held your guard down and went on with the flow. Suddenly, on the midst of prompting down in a comfortable position, you've heard the metal door swinging open and saw the sorceress holding up a hand to you like she had some repulsor; thinking she was Iron Man from how she pointed her palm at your face.

Your face was warped in irritation and ambiguity. You knew what she was doing; her magic is what it is. With a slap of her hand away from your face, barks of remarks has been said out in the open, "What? you need a high five after insulting me like that? even had to pry over what relationship I have with Geralt?---or are you Iron Man dressed as a lady? am I in the MCU?"

The vicious sorceress had a nonplussed look on her face, analyzing what was wrong with the spell she tried to cast upon you, but it seems like her runes has been blocked by someone or something she couldn't understand. Ingrith knelt before you and quickly grabbed onto your throat, her fingers roughly wresting along the line of your jaw as she made you look into her eyes.

None. You had no magic; really knew no witchcraft.

"You should be fainting right now," she lowly mumbled to herself, her gaze intently examining your face while you spat out dry cough from being choked alive, gagging in the process of being pounced on.

"Excuse---E-Excuse me, I'm not. You---You suck! You're not a real sorceress then!"

Until such time, she'd realize the light, chain of metal attached to your neck. Ingrith has straightaway pulled the collar of your sweater down until it has been slightly ripped off. You yelped and resisted to comply from her wishes. However, she'd slapped you hard enough on the same spot as Tybalt did which has made you cease from shrieking as the ache in your jaw started to double up more than ever.

They were literally treating you like a doll that they could hurt or ignite pain and you want nothing more than to see Geralt and lull you to sleep, being taken care of by your own witcher as he tells stories about his adventures with Jaskier or Cirilla, appreciating the difference of being in his family's arms and the people whom they've warned you about.

They have been right all along.

Ingrith pulled the collar down until she'd seen such Cicatrix engraved in between the valley of your chest; the medallion of the Witcher and his school, you were destined to be with him and to create a progeny---his progeny in this world you were in. The lesion now looked like a birthmark, turning darker against your skin and it was enough to presume that the process has finally began.

Along came with an ornament; specifically, the fae necklace that had enchantments to rebound ill-fate has turned from coral green to black like her incantations have been reversed.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed in the middle of the slammer, the Elven who was in the same stockade you were in has given her a look from her loud guffaws, "---you're under a curse---the Warp of the souls. Who'd curse you?"

The sorceress urgently demanded, her fingers tugging your arm as she pulled you closer to her face; seeing the beauty you once saw turn monstrous over the hate that was controlling her to live.

You shook your head, eyes all wide from the frustration, anger and hopelessness being confined inside a dungeon, "I don't know! I haven't met any mages except for you, bitch!"

Ingrith pushed you off to the side, making you stumble on your back flat that has made you groan.

"You're being protected," she stood up on her feet and dusted off her hands straight to your face; all feral with barred teeth, you've given her the stink eye and a nasty scowl, wanting to spit of her foot for her malign, "---Did the witcher find you a Djinn and planned to throw you off back to where you came from?"

"I'm not fucking answering you!" you loudly yelled, voice echoing inside the stoned slammer.

"It is a yes, then."

The sorceress turned away at that, paving her way to the entrance of your spectral, cold cage. She stepped out of the hatch with a lour and most likely with such ire, the curse being a stronger fuel to the fire as she scanned you from head to foot, her gaze lingering longer on your stomach.

Her glowing purple eyes that was quite difficult to decipher when she'd step out of the cage has made you hold a hand on your belly. Why was she staring at you in a way as if she was planning something? did she wanted to eat your intestines?

"---It's that...kind of wish, Tybalt."

Her right hand man has been silent all through out your conversation with the sorceress. The vampire kept his mouth shut, listening to what information they could earn from Ingrith's interrogation. He immediately understood what she meant about 'that kind of wish,' and it was confusing him because of the Witcher's inability to conceive such children.

Tybalt was thinking that your existence never had any reason as to why you've stumbled across the continent. Unless, you've been brought by destiny to produce and make miracles for Geralt's life?

The sorceress leaned closer, her mouth near to his ear as she quietly spoke; not risking for you to hear, "Starve her. Leave her alone with the Elf until The Witcher arrives---or better yet, cudgel her until she speaks answers." she huffed a breath, full of detest over what powerful being was protecting you from her---your curse making her loathe you even more as you were fertile enough to give Geralt an offspring. He shouldn't have been given that luck because he was destined to be completely barren. But, here you were being a complete wonder as to why the curse was a success.

Ingrith hated the concept of an offspring especially that she was also an infertile woman and she couldn't risk the likelihood of a child and its genesis of being a successful heir of a djinn's given malediction; a byproduct of the spirit's potentials in one human to be protected by a witcher.

It could be a threat to her and you were certainly a hazard that she needed to control.

The sorceress speedily left the cell with Tybalt following suit. Her palms itching to go berserk over being futile to your existence, "---She must not produce an heir with the witcher," she sauntered through the path with raging blood. The higher vampire swiftly tugging onto her wrist with his agility.

"But, witchers are infertile, my lady. I doubt they may produce a child,"

"She's made a wish. She has never been infertile from the start nor is she mutated. This thief does not possess such magic but she can give the witcher a child as long as she's protected by the Djinn. The Djinn would give their heir his own magic to create madness in this world which is why she's under a curse. Their child will hold power that no one can ever understand with the help of it,"

"---To make sure of it, we shan't walk around bushes. Spells or maybe poison shall do the trick. We don't need another damned prodigy in this world!"

Tybalt has given her a look, puffing out his frustrations for how she was a foot farther away from the future. The sorceress and her intentions was thoroughly getting out of hand from the moment the prince has been cursed for years. They were present when the curse for the prince has started; more so, Ingrith lasted longer than him in the castle from the moment he was seized by her when she was younger and he respected her for it, even thankful for abducting her when he was a vagrant.

"Ingrith, this is beyond the plan," he spoke through gritted teeth; tightly clutching onto her arm. She raise a brow back at him with a sarcastic reply.

"Do you want the witcher to have a child who may possess black magic then?" Tybalt shut his mouth at that, listening to her reasons and opinion about the whole tragedy that was about to happen in the future, "---you don't even know who that child with Ashen hair is. She can't be his child---he's protecting her from someone---even the thief because she is having his child,"

Ingrith forcefully yanked his hold away from her arm, giving him a sharp look of warning as she continued her gaslighting, "I remembered saving you when you were down and dirty, covered in grime in the caves because you have been abandoned as a higher vampire from your guild,"

The higher vampire's features turned adamantine; features withdrawn and never believing what words he was receiving as it felt like she was making him feel the indeptedness for taking him in.

Ingrith couldn't help but give him a mordant smile of her lips, tilting her head back at him as they stood in front of each other; eye to eye as they both had the same height. She'd seen and read the look within his eyes, conceding to her request of assenting over what side she was trying to fight as her own opinions is what matters and has always been right.

"You're strong, Tybalt. Stronger than the witcher. His sword is no match for you. You're smarter, agile and inevitable. Though, you have a weakness and I suggest you fight that vulnerability of yours---that foolish sympathy for humanity because pity for others isn't what this world needs,"

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex, @britty443, @suhke3, @shadowclawstudio88

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547 @henrythickcavill @kaatelyyynn

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