#but if he hasn’t changed? i won’t be shocked by it or feel betrayed

[k-manik]

People digging up shit idols have done over a decade ago……..how is this productive

[artisiumstudios]

PART ONE ISH

OKAY SO , hi I’m not dead but that’s not important. AU IDEA FOR GRAVITY FALLS WHERE STAN FALLS INTO THE PORTAL INSTEAD OF FORD.

Okay so Stan pre portal is still hopeful about being able to reconnect with his family. The only people he really ever contacts after he is kicked out are his mom and Shermie (also for the sake of it I’m making shermie a bit older) but even that’s sparse. Like every couple of weeks to every couple of months.Right anyways once ford tells him to go to gravity fall he calls his mom to tell him he won’t be able to talk for a while, he doesn’t tell her she’s meeting ford because he doesn’t want to get her (and his) hopes up in case it goes wrong.

once he gets to ford and they start fighting and Stan gets burned and punches ford he grabs the journal (this also where it’s different from the original scene) he walks past ford to the portal and turns to ford and tells him “I always defend and stood up for you no matter what! Whether it was pa or those dumb bullies i stood up and fought for you but the one time i needed you you abandoned me! You’re the most selfish person i know!”

And ford gets pissed and says something alongs the lines of “you did this to yourself when you betrayed me and sabotaged MY future!” And pushes Stan which causes Stan to fall into the portal!

Now for the aftermath for Ford:

At first he’s numb and in disbelief, he’s practically in shock for a good few minutes and then once it settles in he start to hyperventilate and tries turning the portal back on except he doesn’t have any fuel. So for the next few days he’s focusing on staying awake, making changes to the portal so that when he does open it leads him to only Stanley and not bill, and to get more fuel. But by day three he falls asleep and he sees Bill and they have a “conversation”. And Ford tries not to think of Stanley because he doesn’t want to have that be used as leverage against him but Bill already knew so he makes a small comment that Stan managed to escape the nightmare realm to which ford is relieved about. Eventually he wakes up and while he is happy about Stan being alive he now has a dilemma.

Is bill telling the truth? And if so why? But what if he’s not?

He’s now spiraling. On one hand Stan could be alive and in a different universe! Meaning less of a chance of Bill being able to come through. But the cons to that is Ford would need to know where Stan is to be able to use the portal and not accidentally open it randomly to another dimension and Bill could be tracking him. But on the other hand Bill could just be lying period. Stan might be dead. Or worse, he has been captured by Bill in the Nightmare Realm and is being tortured and Bill is just waiting for the portal to open up again.

Ford eventually decides to slowly work on the portal while he tries to find a way to communicate with Stan or locate him at least. He goes back to the cave and tries to find more about other demons or gods or anything to find Stanley. Months go by and eventually he receives a call. His mom asking if he’s heard from Stanley. Finally it sets in. Stan has been gone for way too long. It’s been close to a year now with little to no progress in a different dimension. He might not be alive. He breaks down on his mom saying things like “it’s my fault” “I pushed him away” “I did this” his mom assumes the worst and think Stan committed.

After that call Ford gives up. He feels helpless. He lost his brother twice to his own ego but now it was forever. Permanently. Bill hasn’t shown up either, which makes him believe even more in the fact that Stan might be dead. If he were alive Bill will be using him as leverage as a way to get ford to open the portal. Ford starts to disassemble the portal. With how busy he was researching a way to bring Stan back he forgot about everything. His house is a mess crawling with bugs and rodents, his fridge is growing an ecosystem and worst of all, bills are starting to pile up and with no research or anything to show he won’t be able to continue using his grant, and worse of all. The stanmobile is sitting outside his house untouched for almost a year. He start cleaning his house trying to come up with a game plan. He eventually finishes his house and alone with his thoughts.

Finally he get the courage to clean the stanmobile. It was mostly filled with old food containers, bloody (Stanley what happened???) wrappings and shirts, lottery tickets and other trash. But then there it was. A notebook with a picture clipped on the front of him and Stan when they were little. Inside were notes and small drawings along with failed scams and other items Stan has tried to sell during the last ten years. On the last page there is was. On the top a drawing of a sign. “The murder hut” on the side and in smaller writing”mystery shack ?” The middles was a bunch of drawings of phoney “mystical” and “paranormal “ creatures and sticky note. “Could make into a museum, have tours and sell merchandise. Make it paranormal theme” crossed out was “ford would love it”

Okay well I have yet to brainstorm everything properly and I haven’t even gotten to Stan yet BUT I have a lot also I’m tired and sleepy so yeah okay anyways enjoy but good byeeee

Edit: btw I’m writing the fic now and I’m 4 chapters in lol…

Im still figuring out to use tumblr so i can link my other posts but when i figure it out I swear ill put on here uhhh you always look on my other posts for the link to ao3 but the fic is called:

You make hell tolerable.

Anyways goodnight lol

[kamomie]

My thoughts as of rn on foolish's betrayal

The “arc” did just start, so things are subject to change. But this is my opinion/take on what happened yesterday and the things that stood out to me.

Long read ahead and this is the short version OTL

To me, even entertaining and trying to do an “well actually…” in this case is so unserious and disingenuous. Q!Foolish betrayed his friends. As of right now, he’s a traitor. I don’t know how you could watch q!Foolish arrest q!Pac and q!Mike, and not think that in itself wasn’t a major betrayal? He literally led them to the place of arrest without giving them any sort of indication that they were in potential danger. He arrested them for crimes they seemingly didn’t commit and gave them up to the federation. Just like that. This was at the very least betrayal of q!Tazercraft, but in my opinion, also a betrayal of all his friends. Especially the Brazilians and Richarlyson.

Part of the betrayal is also the fact that q!Foolish really doesn’t think he did anything wrong, he feels no remorse. Leading up to the arrest, he keeps saying stuff like “they’ll understand, they won’t get mad”, as if he’s not fully grasping the severity of his actions.

He really sat there in the federation office and just went along with Cucurucho’s plan with a lot of enthusiasm and excitement. And that just continues, he gets a bit nervous too, but mainly he’s super excited and happy.

Another thing I noted was the “I trust your strong sense of justice” book Cucurucho gave him. It doesn’t align with his person at all. Q!Foolish hasn’t ever been about justice, he’s been much more of a let live kinda guy. Even his answer to Cucurucho about what he thinks about Order, is a clear indication that he’s not really occupied by these themes, to him order is fine, if it doesn’t get restraining. That’s really all the thought he has about it. Q!Foolish is not someone with a strong sense of justice. He’s actively hiding an illegal item as we speak.

It felt as though Q!Foolish intuitively knew something was off, but he actively chooses to not think about it. He clearly doesn’t see himself as someone with a strong sense of justice, he does find it a bit weird Cucurucho asks him to do the arrests, when the federation usually does it fine themselves. But in his excitement, he ignores all the red flags.

Q!Foolish also seem to be under the belief that he’ll be easily forgiven and that no one will be mad at him, which shocks me, because by now, he should know that working with the federation and not sharing information is social suicide on the island. Especially when he really isn’t being threatened nor blackmailed. For all intents and purposes, he could’ve refused, but he didn’t even entertain the idea of not helping the federation.

Even when q!Cellbit makes it clear, that if q!Foolish is in any way omitting truth and not sharing information, he would no longer consider him a friend, q!Foolish still just talks in circles and refuses to elaborate and explain. Q!Foolish seems to think he can get away with his empty words and generally likeableness. The final nail in the coffin is his lie to q!Jaiden. Painting his actions as a last resort to protect Richarlyson is clever but also so underhanded. But if it ever comes out or people start to question it, it will also be his downfall.

He thinks he knows what he’s doing and that he’s in control, but in reality, I think Cucurucho/the federation are using him and he’s in way over his head.

[maggacammara]

Wyllvember, Day Two

II. Wyll and Your Tav

“I appreciate the offer, but—”

Before Wyll can finish, Rauva is sitting on one of the large, flat rocks by the shore, moonlight shimmering on her dusky skin as she stares out at the horizon. Wyll sighs inwardly and sits down next to her. The silence, soundtracked by waves breaking and the chatter of tieflings and adventurers getting drunk off ithbank, is welcome. Still, he doesn’t mind when Rauva finally speaks. “I would have spent the evening with Shadowheart.”

No elaboration. Wyll nods, musing. “Everything okay with you two?” he says, dropping into a more casual register than he typically uses with his companions. Maybe he’ll be able to pry some personal information out of the notoriously guarded drow. She nods, the gesture almost imperceptible. “I take it you don’t expect me to stand in for her regular duties.” This may be his first attempt at flirting with Rauva. He’s gotten to almost everyone else by now.

Rauva’s head turns sharply, her red eyes boring into him. At first, he thinks he’s upset her, but then he realizes—she’s flustered. Her skin, like his, is too dark to betray her flush of embarrassment, but he sees it in the tension she holds, the slightly widened eyes. “It’s not…” she trails off. For the first time since meeting her, Wyll actually sees Rauva’s thoughts telegraphed across her expression, no tadpole needed—it’s not like that. Well, it is. I don’t know. It’s complicated.

“I get it.” Wyll laughs. “Relationships aren’t easy for a hero.” Rauva opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off. “And don’t say you aren’t one! You may not see yourself that way, but the tieflings certainly do. Your actions matter far more than how you perceive yourself.”

Rauva nods again, that curt, dutiful nod. But he can tell she’s relaxed a bit now. “Are you holding out for anyone here?” she says. Her low voice seems huskier in the evening.

Wyll really thinks before he answers. The truth is no, he’s not quite that committed to anyone in their camp. However, this doesn’t mean he hasn’t considered a few of them, and he knows this is what Rauva is getting at. “I am offended that Astarion hasn’t asked to bite me yet, if that’s what you mean,” he says. Rauva laughs, which he considers a success—as well as an opportunity to be more vulnerable. “I’m holding out for something special. It may end up being someone here… I’m not sure yet.”

“I see,” Rauva says. She thinks for a moment, picks up a smooth stone and tosses it at the water. Rather than skipping across the surface, it sinks straight to the bottom without a splash. “I never thought I would grow close with someone like I have with Shadowheart. Not with my life how it was. Is.” The noise from the camp grows to a roar for a moment—laughter, cheers, Alfira’s smooth voice singing. When it quiets again, Rauva says, “She makes me feel I could change. Choose to change, even. Not because of a tadpole or a cult—but just because I want to.”

“You want to change,” Wyll muses. He almost adds something to the effect of, yet you’re already perfect, but he knows it’ll come off flirty, and this feels inappropriate after Rauva’s admission about Shadowheart. “I know the feeling. I wasn’t always the Blade of Frontiers. And I wasn’t always… well, you know.”

This coaxes a smile out of Rauva. “I do think they suit you,” she says, nodding toward the horns. Wyll still hasn’t quite grown used to their weight. “This coming from someone generally distrusted based on their appearance.”

“Ah,” Wyll says. “All my complaining—I never considered. I apologize.”

Rauva laughs a little, shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. I lived in Menzoberranzan for the first two-hundred years of my life. I remember the culture shock of suddenly being perceived as different. You’re going through the same thing.” She reaches out, a little awkwardly, and places a strong, calloused hand on Wyll’s shoulder. “Those whose opinion truly matters won’t care how you look. In fact, they will embrace it.” 

Wyll looks down at his hands and smiles. It’s a fact he knows to be true, but it rings truer coming from someone like Rauva. He feels briefly embarrassed for having tried to flirt with her before. She’s well out of his league. “I’m lucky to have you as a friend,” he says, deeply earnest. Rauva just squeezes his shoulder and drops her hand, looking back out at the moonlit water.

Someone comes crashing through the brush behind them. “Come on, Rauva!” Karlach booms. Wyll doesn’t have to turn to recognize her voice. “I dared Gale to try cooking one of the artifacts before eating it, and the mad lad is actually going to do it!” Her crackling heat fills the small clearing as she steps closer. “You should come too, Wyll. I’ve got a pool going on whether he’ll love it or hurl.”

“Those are the only options?” Rauva muses, rising gracefully. She glances down at Wyll. He does feel better after talking to her, but he’s still not quite ready to go out and carouse. He waves nonchalantly at the two of them.

“Put me down for… ah, neither,” he says. “I don’t imagine he’ll enjoy it, though the man must have a strong stomach by now, eating all the orts Rauva drags back to camp for dinner.” Karlach bursts into laughter as they head back to the party. 

“I’ll let him know what faith you have in him!” she calls.

Wyll smiles to himself and gazes back out at the water. He may not be in the mood for a celebration, but he won’t allow himself to sink into the pits of despair. Not yet.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

How would this characters (Joanne,Ciel,Maurice and doll) react when reader tells them that they were having an affair and want to break up, but then they are told that it was a joke. (A cruel joke :/)

oof, a cruel joke indeed!

Joanne's reaction just makes me Sad :c

… Are you serious? Really? He knows that a lot of people have secret affairs like that, but he’s never heard of someone so boldly confessing to it, ruining their relationship with another person in the process. All things considered, he holds himself together quite well despite a lot of different emotions running through him. It feels like he’s being betrayed and abandoned and told he isn’t enough all in the same breath. It hurts. However, a lifetime of hurt has steadied him to the point that he doesn’t fall apart. His hand and voice shake as he points you to the door. “You want to leave me? Fine. Go. If you’re not happy, if that’s what you want, go.” It seems cold; he’s preparing to break down after you leave and not a second sooner, so you have nothing to use against him. Of course, he’s both angry and embarrassed that he fell for it once he’s told it was a joke. Regardless, you will be leaving at least for the night, because he doesn’t want you around after a stunt like that. He pretends it’s because he doesn’t have time for pranks. In reality, he’s simply very hurt, and doesn’t want to talk to you. Possibly for a few days or even up to a week.

The… the ‘ell?! What do you mean, there’s someone else and you don’t want to be with them anymore?! The poor thing is stock still as the information runs itself through their mind, over and over, and they just stare at you. All the while, their eye is gradually welling up with tears. They don’t understand. You have been their whole world since their feelings bloomed, and they thought they finally found a person who’d love them for who they were. It’s like someone has reached into their heart and begun to slice out their heart, piece by agonizing piece. They should have known, right? And that’s what they shout at you, as they sink to their knees and sob into their hands. “I shoulda known, ‘uh?! Y’ found someone else, ‘cause I ain’t enough, ‘cause no normal person could ever love someone like me w’o’s missin’ parts!” It feels as if they’ve been tricked into falling in love with somebody who couldn’t care less about them. They only get angrier when you tell them you were just joking. “Fuckin’ really?! THAT AIN’T FUNNY!” they wail as they scramble to their feet. That’s the last thing they say before they run out of the room, shoving away any attempt at you comforting them. They want to be angry for a while, because they can’t believe you thought that was a good joke to play on them. They’ll come back and talk eventually, and they might stay with you, but… unfortunately, you did a lot of damage to the trust they had in you.

You… you what… don’t love him anymore…? You have someone else? H-how… how long have you been seeing this other person? He can almost see the future he’s fantasized with you being torn away like the pages of a book he hasn’t finished reading yet. It’s perhaps unsurprising that he starts to cry immediately, possibly before you’re even done speaking. He has so many questions, but he knows none of them matter. Answers won’t change that you’ve been unfaithful, they won’t change that you’re leaving, and they won’t heal all this pain. He just buries his face in his hand and weeps, barely able to speak at all. He manages to get out squeaky whimpers of things like, “I-I’m sorry” (thinking your leaving is his fault for not keeping you happy) and “is there a-anything I can do…?” (because as much as he knows it’s your choice, he doesn’t want to lose you) in between sniffles and hiccups. Upon being told it’s just a prank, he quickly lifts his hands up and stares at you in pure shock. Those big eyes, full of tears, blink at you with a mix of betrayal and relief. As he thinks, nothing else really matters; you’re not leaving him, and you’re not unhappy with him, and that’s what’s important. He’s far too forgiving, because he starts to cry again, running over to throw his arms around you and cling. Please don’t ever scare him like that again!!!

Haha… this is your poor attempt at revenge, isn’t it? For some mean prank he pulled on you or some accidentally hurtful remark he made earlier in the week or something. He does his best to brush it off at first, even though there are a million voices in his head telling him that you’re finally done with him. His initial response is that you shouldn’t be so silly, that he’s already apologized for what he did so you can abandon this nonsense. As you continue your… joke… he gets visibly more agitated and keeps telling you to knock it off, this isn’t funny. At last, when he thinks he can’t deny it anymore, he abruptly gets to his feet and takes a breath. He’s not composed at all, his face red and tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. “So leave me, then! Go be happy with someone else, because you’ll never find anybody half as great as me, so don’t be surprised when they leave you after a couple of weeks! But I’ve got people falling all over me, so I’ll find something better. Enjoy the rest of your life.” Before he starts to actually cry, he attempts to hold it together long enough to stalk right out the door. As soon as you stop him and confess that it was a prank, his face goes even redder. He’s flustered that he fell for something like that, and he’s terrified of how scared he was that you’d leave him. Most of all he’s a poor sport about being tricked in such a way despite that he’s dished out things that aren’t dissimilar in the past. He just thinks this is a line you shouldn’t have crossed. He physically takes your hands off him, and doesn’t say another word as he storms out. You’ll be lucky if he ever talks to you again, and it will only be because he was so scared of losing you in the first place, and only after he feels you’ve sufficiently apologized.

[3xm-draconic]

Ascension. (werebat cyris and astarion story)

Summary: Astarion makes a choice…

Ascension, ascension was in his grasp!

A few more cuts, just utter the words and…and…

Astarion looked around.

At all his frightened…“siblings”

How they squirmed and shivered.

How they begged, pleaded…cried.

For 200 years he was subjected to shit, PURE SHIT…but so were they…

No…No he Needed to do this…

Astarion raised the staff and placed Cazador in his spot.

He opened his mouth to chant…

Something twisted inside him…like a writhing pit of serpents in his guts…

“I…I…”

The power…the strength…the pain he would cause…

This wasn’t him.

He didn’t want to hurt them, he…cared about them.

It was his fault most of them were there in the first place, he…he needed to make things right.

“I can’t do this…I WON’T do this” Astarion took the staff and broke it over his knee.

Cazador laughed “weak, pathetic child…you will regret this” he sneered as he disappeared into a cloud of black mist and escaped…

Things…Things got…well..

Things changed…

The spawn were freed and sent to live in the underdark, they found a little ruin there that they took over and made their own. Astarion…surprisingly…sort of…became the leader of this…little vampire kingdom.

He made sure there was order, set some ground rules:

1: don’t hunt people.

2: don’t hurt each other.

3: work together for the betterment of everyone.

Of course not everyone followed these rules.

Some spawn left deeper into the underdark to live outside of his rules, but most compiled.

Now…there was the matter of…his friends…

There was a…mixed bag of reactions…

They were mad at him for betraying Cyris, Allegra tried to kill him but Jaheira held her back. Eventually things calmed down and they whent to an inn to recuperate…

Astarion missed Cyris, missed his warmth, his laugh, his smile…

Allegra and Wyll were out looking for him, Gods…he hopes he hasn’t…

Astarion shutters and falls to the floor of his room “Gods…please…”

He turns to the hearth…

He sets a little mug of hot tea on the mantel with a plate of cookies “This feels stupid…but I have to try…I HAVE to…I need to” he mumbles to himself.

“Y-Yondalla?” Astarion says “look…I…I don’t know how to do this…I haven’t prayed to the gods…any god..in some time” he sighed “but…I need to know he’s safe…please…give me a sign”

Something opened Astarion’s window…

He whipped around to see…

“CYRIS!” Astarion happily cried, but the man that stood before him had a dark look in his eyes…

“Cyris?...” Astarion backed up against the wall…

“shhh…Don’t make this harder than it has to be” Cyris said, his voice was cold.

“Cyris wait-!” Astarion cried but he was pinned to the wall, Cyris’s hand on his throat…

“I…I don’t want to do this…but you made your choice darlin…”

“C-Cy…I..I d-didn’t…” he gasped

“Hush now…I’ll make this painless…” he murmured sweetly as he kissed his neck…

“I still can’t help but love you…” he whispered as he sank his fangs into Asarion’s neck…

It…was warm…

The bite of a werebat was like being wrapped in a warm blissful embrace…

“C…cy-ris…~” Astarion uttered, lost in nirvana… “Cy…I d-din’t do it, I didn’t ascend”, Cyris unlatched and pulled away, his eyes now full of pain and shock…worry “what?”, “…the spawn are alive…” Astarion said.

The last thing he said…

Before the world went black…

[doppopoppo]

Bundle of Feelings

|| Uramichi Daily Headcanon ||

|| Warnings: married, minor cussing, angst, argument ||

|| Uramichi • F!Reader || 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙

Silence.

Everything was silent. 

The only thing that could be heard were the trees rustling outside. The curtains swaying softly and hitting the glass door. The fridge is running in the background. And the heavy breathing of two adults. Hearts pounding in their chests. Both afraid the other may hear their heart wanting to explode into a volcanic mess. 

Otherwise, silence. 

Y/N hasn’t seen her husband this mad since she last saw him interact with his father. Uramichi was red in the face, a scowl permanently settled atop his facial features. The way he was holding her hand, squeezing it tightly for mental support. She doesn’t even remember what they were even arguing about, as her father-in-law bickered about the most minuscule of things. 

Today, however, Uramichi’s anger was directed at her. She had thrown out all of his beer and cigarettes. His wife was tired of having to deal with a drunk husband more nights than she wanted. Only sleeping when he was wasted and slurring out cuss words. The heavy smell of tobacco following his trail, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust. Coughing whenever she walks by as he puffs out smoke. None of these were healthy coping mechanisms. She genuinely wanted to help her husband figure out and find better alternatives. Healthier options. One that wouldn’t harm his health. 

As a gymnast, shouldn’t he know better? 

Little did she know, her actions would cause Uramichi to have an outburst. The most the two fought over what to eat for dinner, junk food or protein filled. He began the argument by yelling at her. Then proceeded to belittle her, what can she know? How stupid can she be? 

She cried and tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t listen. “It's for your own good!” Y/N sniffled, “why can’t you see that?” She was hugging her own body. Unsure if it was for comfort or out of fear; maybe both? 

Uramichi sighed and rubbed his forehead, “I’m a grown man. I can make my own fucking choices for fucks sake, Y/N!” He’s never used such vulgar vocabularies with her before, this was a first. 

She didn’t want to change Uramichi, instead help diminish the fire inside of him. The one his father lit and kept throwing gasoline at it. 

“You won’t grow like this, dear. If you want a brighter future and to help your depression, we need to start fixing your bad habits.” She emphasized ‘we’. Because they were in this together. 

Uramichi had yet another strenuous day at work, all he wanted was to drink beer until he passed out. His wife’s cuddles no longer lulled him to sleep. Her sweet whispers felt meaningless. Only cigarettes could help him calm his mind down. Yet, she still tried to reason with him. Saying bullshit about seeing a therapist, hanging out with friends more often, or going outside that’s not the gym. 

“I know your fathers did horrible things to you. Such as forcing you into something you didn’t want to do. But you have to stop living in the past. Stop blaming your father for your future, which is your present now.” His wife tried to get close to him to bring him into a hug. 

Enraged at her words, “Oh my god, I could just hit you right now!” Uramichi threw the nearest dumbbell to him across the room. She heard a vase shatter, the one that was a hand me down from her mother. 

“What the hell do you know!? You’ve lived a nice and spoiled life, no inch of worries. No wonder you’re such a stubborn brat half the time.” His words were like a sharp knife cutting through her heart. 

She bent down over the broken pieces of vase. Shattered just like her heart. Uramichi’s eyes and mind were clouded in red rage. He hasn’t realized he broke an important item. One that was personally given to them by his mother-in-law. The woman who entrusted her daughters happiness to him. 

“Stop.” Y/N whispered. “Stop this right now!” She shouted at him. New, hot tears fell from Y/N’s eyes as she held into the broken vase pieces. She was in shock that her husband was willing to get physical over beers and cigarettes. This wasn’t what he promised to her on the day of their wedding vows. 

“You’re no different from your father, Uramichi.” She stood up. “An abuser raised another abuser. I can’t have this cycle continue.” Y/N went to put on her coat. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Uramichi was irritated that she had the audacity to leave in the middle of an argument. 

“Our child doesn’t need to witness what you witnessed your father do to you.” His wife glared at him. 

Those words flipped a switch inside Uramichi. Child? But they didn’t have any children. Then it clicked, his wife was pregnant. Was that the real reason she wanted him to stop? Why didn’t she say so in a better way then? It was too late to ask her these though, because she already left the apartment. 

The small apartment that used to be lovely thanks to his wife, now felt cold and lonely. The way it was before she came into his life. He took a look around the room and saw the mess he made. It might’ve been minor, but it left a big impact. Uramichi noticed the important vase he broke and ran out the door to catch up to his wife. Though she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and went back inside and laid down on the couch. He screwed up big time. 

When morning came, it was raining but the smell of food tickled his senses and woke him up. He slowly got up from the couch and went towards the kitchen. He found his wife in her favorite apron cooking breakfast. 

“Morning.” She chirped. “I’m making American style sausage with scrambled eggs! Go sit at the table in the living room, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Questions ran through his head as he sat at the table on the floor. The broken vase pieces are gone, but so is the vase. Y/N’s eyes looked empty, betraying the big smile she displayed. He saw his wife bring the food to the table. He quickly got up and helped her. Likewise, he went to grab some additional items to set up the table for breakfast. Was last night a dream? No it couldn’t be. 

The question was itching in Uramichi’s throat, he had to ask. “Why?” 

Y/N looked up from her place, “why what?” 

“Why'd you come back? I even broke your mother’s case.” He thought she walked out for good. He threatened to hit her. He vowed to never be like his father, and that’s exactly who he became last night. His nightmare coming to reality. 

Y/N put her fork down, “Listen, we are married, way passed the dating phase. On our wedding day we vowed to love each other until death do’s us apart. It is both of our responsibilities to make sure the other is doing okay. Physically and mentally. You’re always there for me, dear. I want to be here for you this time, in what I think will help you. I’m sorry I threw out your beer and cigarettes without discussing it with you. I just want  to see you make healthier choices for yourself.” she put her hand over his. “I found out about the baby after I made the decision a while back. It’s another reason now why I would like for you to stop, but the main reason here is you. This is about you and us helping you.” she stared at his eyes. “I don’t wish to change you, but help you. As for the vase, you can buy me another one.” She winked and giggled. “As long as we’re fine, it’s all that matters.”

It was a big change she was asking him to make. But he can take small steps. That’s what the couple decided on. To limit his alcoholic intake to certain days of the week. Same with his smoking. He didn’t have to quit, but he was trying not to be dependent on it. He has the strongest support laying next to him at night. Holding him tightly. Uramichi was truly excited to know he’ll become a father! He’s nervous, but he knew he’s not alone. He thinks about what he can do to be a better father than his was.

Author’s Note:

He needs a hug. And a raise.

Remember, who your parents are don’t define you. If something happened in the past, don’t let it define you and who you are today. It might hold you back from growing. Just remember to take care of your mental health! 💜

Enjoy!

[dessarious]

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt6

AO3  Beginning   Previous   Next

Ladybug continued to cling to Chloe and the other girl seemed both grateful and slightly panicked. “You’re welcome? It’s the least I could do after everything. If you give me a list, I can make sure it’s stocked with food for all the Kwami as well.”

“Here you go bee.”

“Plagg!” The Kwami had once again just appeared, this time with a piece of paper to shove at the girl.

“What? She asked!”

“If you don’t stop popping out like this, I’m going to renounce you. I have enough stress without wondering if you feel chatty at any given moment.” Ladybug had pulled back and began rubbing her forehead. Whether it was just annoyance or she had a headache was anyone’s guess. Chloe took the paper gingerly, eyeing the Kwami like he was going to explode. So apparently Ivy wasn’t the only one wary around the creatures.

“I’ll get everything this afternoon.” She was frowning at some of the items and Selina could relate. It was a very mixed bag. “Why does it say ‘no shellfish’ at the bottom?” Ladybug let out an aggravated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Damnit Plagg, have you lost your mind?” The Kwami just ignored her.

“The kid has an allergy. Best to not chance it.”

“Huh, that’s weird. Marinette is allergic to shellfish too. Guess it’s more common than I thought.” Ladybug’s eye twitched and Selina could feel something poking at the back of her mind, trying to get her to focus on what was being said. Her thoughts felt oddly sluggish.

“Yeah, weird. How do you know Marinette is allergic?”

“I was the class rep before Marinette. Allergies were one of the big things to take into account when planning events. Not to mention my father has always stressed the need to know both your constituents and opponents. I have dossiers on everyone in the school.” Ladybug’s lips twitched upwards but didn’t quite make it to a smile.

“I’m more surprised by that than I should be. I assume that you’re the reason I haven’t seen Lila for the last few months?” Chloe winced and nodded.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do anything about her earlier.”

“The adults in charge should have done something, not you.”

“Maybe, but I could have stopped this and didn’t. Just like Adrien, I ignored her because she wasn’t my problem. Just like Adrien, I could never see past what I wanted when given the opportunity to wield a Miraculous. I… I never really understood why you hated me so much until I saw how Adrien acted after he lost his ring.”

“I never hated you Chloe, I just couldn't trust you. But at least with you I knew the risks. The others… I didn’t know until it was too late.” The last seemed directed at herself rather than Chloe. Selina was so busy trying to read Chloe’s body language that she didn’t notice Ladybug swaying until it was too late. Chloe caught her as she fell and they all watched as the hero detransformed. Selina ran towards them before she could think it through, and could hear the others behind her.

“Tikki, what happened?” Chloe was staring at the girl in shock, not even noticing their approach.

“The transformation was taking too much of her energy. I had to drop it before it harmed her irreversibly.” Both Tikki and Plagg were hovering over the girl. “She can not transform again until she’s recovered.”

“What do we do if there’s another Akuma? Hawkmoth hasn’t been letting up lately. It’s… it’s like he’s trying to cause this.” The last was said in an almost horrified whisper.

“That’s exactly what he’s doing. Unfortunately right now we’re more concerned with you knowing who she is.” Plagg had flown directly into Chloe’s face and was scowling at her. She just hugged the girl tighter.

“I won’t tell anyone. I meant what I said about helping her. Both of her.” Suddenly the pieces of their earlier conversation clicked together in Selina’s mind.

“Hang on, this is the girl you were talking about? The one who’s been missing?” That finally caused Chloe to look up at them.

“Who the hell are you?” She caught sight of Ivy and set the other girl down to step between them. “And what the hell are you?” Selina could admire her spirit at least. The girl didn’t stand a chance against them but it was apparent that she wasn’t backing down.

“We’re friends and we’re here to help.” She looked ready to argue but Tikki spoke up.

“They’re telling the truth. They’ve been nothing but supportive so far and if that changes, Plagg and I will handle it. Right now we need to get Mari back to your hotel so she can rest. Then we need to discuss what to do when an Akuma shows up while she’s still recuperating.” Chloe didn’t look happy with it but she did nod.

“I’m not entirely sure how to get us all in there undetected. I have a feeling you three don’t really want to be noticed and I certainly don’t want to cause a scene bringing Mari in like this. Bringing attention to ourselves will only cause problems.” Well she was certainly right about that. Selina shared a look with the other two but both just shrugged at her. Before she could suggest anything Tikki and Plagg started whispering together before Plagg flew back to Chloe.

“Can I trust you to use a Miraculous to get where you need to go and then give it back?”

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you need me to.” Plagg continued to study the girl but Tikki Flew into Marinette’s bag and returned with a pair of glasses. Chloe looked sad for a moment but her determination overrode it as Tikki started whispering in her ear. As soon as they finished Chloe put on the glasses and muttered something, causing another flash of light. When it faded Selina wasn’t sure what she was looking at. The outfit was definitely horse themed but at the same time she couldn’t really explain why it was. The suit was a deep reddish brown but everything else about it felt unsettling. Her hair was in a braid but seemed to be attached down her back because it didn’t move. The suit itself wasn’t skin tight but moved with her body as if it were. The longer Selina stared at it the more uncomfortable she felt. She blamed that for why she didn’t notice the swords crossed on the girls back until one was at her throat. “I’ll only give you one warning. Marinette has already been betrayed by everyone around her, minus her family, and I won’t hesitate to do what is necessary to keep you from doing the same.”

“Everyone including you?” Selina expected her to flinch but her gaze just hardened.

“Especially me. I tormented her and took advantage of her forgiveness more times than I can count. I know very well I do not have the moral high ground so don’t expect me to act like a hero.” Selina felt the blade make contact and couldn’t help the grin that appeared.

“Oh I like you. This should be fun.” Chloe slowly lowered the weapon. She tried to hide her confusion behind annoyance but Selina saw it before the girl turned to pick up Marinette. She heard Ivy suck in a sharp breath when a portal appeared out of nowhere.

“Well, are you coming or not?” She stepped through the opening without giving them time to respond. Selina debated for a fraction of a second before following, even as Ivy started cursing under her breath. The chances that Chloe would leave them behind if they weren’t fast enough were high, and she had a very bad feeling at the thought of being separated from Marinette. Her instincts had kept her alive this long, she wasn’t about to discount them now.

AO3  Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tags

@asrainterstellar @scorchdragon88 @arty-shadow-morningstar @toodaloo-kangaroo @solangelo252 @smolplantmum @jayjayspixiepop @unoriginalmess @weirdo-with-no-beardo

[silverynight]

The flu

Prompt: How about a story where all the Hashira are sick with the flu, but refuse to rest so Oyakata-sama asks Tanjiro to nurse them back to health.

Made a few changes I hope you don't mind. 😊

***

"You can barely move, Kyojuro," Shinobu smiles; her voice is as sweet as usual, however, she can feel the irritation in her body. Good thing the master has thought about everything and has a plan in mind for stubborn hashira.

"I'm perfectly fine!" The flame hashira assures, although his voice is not as loud as usual, his face is red and he looks like sitting on that bed is taking a lot of his strength.

Shinazugawa has probably passed out in one of the hallways, because Shinobu knows none of them have actually managed to leave. There are five Pillars that got sick and she's very much glad that she's not one of them.

"The master told you to rest here until you got better," She keeps grinning, even though she wants to punch those airheads in the face so bad.

"I'm... fine," Giyuu mumbles stubbornly, getting on his two feet, but taking a lot of time to move. He shivers.

Aoi is right next to Shinobu, but hasn't said a word; normally she's the one that scolds the patients (she's an expert) but the insect hashira knows she's too intimidated by the Pillars to say something.

"I'm not ill!" Tengen assures, trying not to tremble. "That wouldn't be very flamboyant of me."

"If the master wants me to stay I will," Mitsuri's voice comes from the other side of the room; she's the only one that hasn't moved from her bed.

"At least one of you has a brain," Shinobu nods approvingly. She's about to ask Aoi to check on the love hashira when someone rushes into the room.

The Pillars eyes open wide at the same time when they notice the young demon slayer.

A mischievous grin curls up the corners of Shinobu's lips.

"I came as soon as I could," Tanjirou pants, trying to calm himself. "The master told me they are sick and I need to–"

"It's just Mitsuri, Tanjirou," Shinobu mumbles, trying not to look too satisfied by the others reactions. "Take care of her. Apparently she's the only one sick; the others will be leaving soon."

Tanjirou nods and walks towards the love hashira's bed quickly; Mitsuri looks up at him in delight.

"How are you feeling, Kanroji-san?" Tanjirou's voice is very sweet and his eyes are gentle.

"Awful!" She admits.

"Don't worry, I'll be taking care of you," the young demon slayer promises her with a smile.

"Really? You'll stay with me?"

"Of course, as long as you–"

"I'm sick too, my boy!"

How predictable, Shinobu thinks, rolling her eyes. Suddenly, the hashira in the room have all gone back to bed.

"Rengoku-san," Tanjirou mumbles with concern, walking away from Mitsuri's bed who pouts immediately. "Your face is red! You must have fever!"

Tanjirou's gentle fingertips touch Kyojuro's forehead, prompting the flame hashira to lean into the touch and look up at the boy with the softest smile Shinobu has ever seen.

Aoi is right at Tanjirou's side now; she's a clever girl and knows the Pillars won't protest or growl because Tanjirou is there.

"Tanjirou," it's the only word that escapes Giyuu's lips but it works; the young demon slayer is right at his side in a second. The water hashira stares at him with undivided attention, as if he's trying to learn by heart all of Tanjirou's beautiful features. "You're pretty."

"You must have fever too," the boy comments, dismissing the last words. He touches Giyuu's forehead and nods to himself. "Here, drink this, Tomioka-san. It'll make you feel better."

Actually, Tanjirou helps him drink it; Giyuu has become very compliant for someone who claimed to be fine just a few minutes ago.

"It's my turn, Tanjirou," Tengen mumbles, looking tired even though his eyes are glimmering with mischief.

Shinobu sighs, feeling sorry for the boy because the Pillars are already trying to get Tanjirou's attention back to themselves. They're competing for it.

"That must be uncomfortable, Uzui-san," Tanjirou says, looking at the headband covered in precious gems and all the other stuff on the sound hashira's face. "Let me take it off."

Carefully, he removes everything, along with the hair tie; he runs his fingers through Tengen's hair as it falls over the hashira's shoulders.

"Much better, isn't it?" Tanjirou smiles, oblivious to the tension in the room. The others are fuming, glaring at Tengen like they want to punch him.

"Yes," Tengen purrs, taking one of Tanjirou's hands in his. "Actually, I think I should change my clothes for something more... comfortable. Would you help me take them off?"

"Of course!" He says, not noticing the triumph shining in Tengen's deep pink eyes. He's already unbuttoning the Pillar's vest when Kyojuro growls.

"No!" Giyuu snarls as Mitsuri is trying to call Tanjirou back to her. "Our uniform is not uncomfortable and you know it, Tengen. Besides, you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself!"

Shinobu tries to hold back her laughter; she's noticed before that Giyuu tends to be more talkative when he's really pissed. They have started to argue, however (even though confused) Tanjirou doesn't look alarmed. It's probably because he's dealt with things like that when he took care of his siblings.

She decides to go look for Sanemi then and finds him passed out in one of the hallways as she thought. A few kakushi help her take him back to bed.

Tanjirou looks distressed.

"Is he alright?" He asks, already running towards the wind hashira's bed.

"Yes, don't worry," she assures him. "He'll probably wake up now."

Sanemi does wake up, however he rises from the bed immediately. Although he almost falls right back into it.

"I'm leaving!" He snarls as he tries to take a step forward, but Tanjirou walks right in front of him to block his only way out.

That boy is really brave.

"Move," the hashira hisses, prompting the others to glare at him. He must know that they'll kill him if he hurts Tanjirou.

"Please go back to bed, Shinazugawa-san," the young demon slayer mumbles, always gentle. "You're sick."

"I'm not," he huffs stubbornly, like a kid. He places a hand on Tanjirou's shoulder as if he's seriously considering to push him out of the way.

There's tension in the room. Kyojuro is already baring his teeth, Giyuu growls, Mitsuri begs Sanemi not to hurt Tanjirou as Tengen hisses a "Hey, hands off!" at his fellow hashira.

Sanemi ignores them all of course, however, he does hesitate when Tanjirou places a gentle hand over his.

A warm smile quirks up the corners of Tanjirou's lips and his eyes start glimmering with concern, understanding and kindness. He looks so soft Shinobu feels like she's melting even though he's not looking at her.

Sanemi must be dying inside.

"Please, let me take care of you."

Something breaks inside the wind hashira; he lets go of Tanjirou's shoulder and takes a step back, almost scared.

"You have no right to look at me like that!" He huffs, face turning bright red. "It's not fair!"

Tanjirou touches his cheek and this time Sanemi doesn't flinch away.

"You must have fever, please go back to bed, Shinazugawa-san."

To everyone's shock, the wind hashira does as he's told.

That boy has a very special power and he doesn't even know it, Shinobu observes, watching with interest as they all try to get him to pay attention to them.

"You want me to help you with that hair tie as well, Rengoku-san?" Tanjirou grins, running his fingers through the flame hashira's hair. "Oh! Yours too, Tomioka-san! Sorry, I forgot!"

When the others come to pay them a visit, Muichiro looks at the way Tanjirou's sitting next to Giyuu's bed and stroking his forehead like he's been betrayed. Tengen takes Tanjirou's hand then and the boy doesn't do anything to stop him.

"Nobody told me you've been taking care of them!" He complains as Tanjirou looks back at him with a smile.

"Tokito-san, I'm really glad you're–"

Muichiro coughs then and it's obvious to everyone that he's just pretending, except for Tanjirou.

"I'm sick too," he mumbles.

"No, you're not!" Sanemi growls.

Shinobu sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose as they all start arguing as Tanjirou rushes towards Muichiro to see if he's alright.

She prays the gods they get better soon so she doesn't have to be stuck with these children anymore.

***

Patreon

[rosequart]

i compiled a bunch of direct quotes about pink diamond/rose quartz from the newest artbook, end of an era. some of these quotes are taken from charts and scribbled notes, so the sentence structure might be weird.

let me know if there are any typos/missing information you think i could add!

quotes from rebecca sugar: on pink diamond/rose quartz

Pink Diamond is so sure that she’s powerless, but she’s actually profoundly powerful, so much so that she devastates people’s lives without understanding it because she thinks that she has no real power or sway.

The thing that she really lacks is balance, any ability to temper her extremes. This is part of her character throughout her forms: she’s always very extreme. 

Pink fits into those older tropes, too: the restless princess, the little Winsor McCay clown.

Pink is pure want. Impulse, desire—she’s infectious. She is the flip side of White; she can bring out a Gem’s hidden personality—their deepest wants. This isn’t necessarily a Diamond power (she has a handful of Diamond powers both destructive and constructive), but she has this power in a very human sense. She is an enabler and very manipulative when it comes to getting what she wants, so when what she wants is to get closer to someone, her intensity, and her sincerity, opens them up and draws them in.

White and Pink were always clashing. The Diamond body repressed Pink’s wants, as directed by White, the self-critical conscience. Pink’s shield made it impossible for White to override Pink’s identity, so she had to find other ways to repress her.

Episodes like Bismuth make much more sense when you know that Rose is Pink, and even more sense when you understand how poorly Pink treated friends who became inconvenient.

Rose is tracked carefully through the entire show. She makes sense once you know she is her own worst enemy. She dreams, achingly, that she could become compassionate, because she’s sure she’s incapable of compassion. Her lack of respect for herself makes it impossible for her to respect everyone closest to her. She reveres them instead, because they are better than she could ever be, and that reverence is so honest and intoxicating that it draws everyone closer to her, without them understanding the deep self-hatred that pull is coming from.

She couldn’t stand herself; self-destruction is a huge theme throughout the show—the struggle of the feeling that you shouldn’t exist, and what that can do to a person. A lot of the themes of the show exist within Rose, like her inability to be honest with other people or herself about what she’s done. She’s so deeply ashamed of herself and her past, with very good reason. The truth is that the people in her life would be so much more understanding than she believes they will be. The contempt that she has for herself gets turned outward as contempt for other people when she can’t trust them. When she can’t trust herself, she can’t trust other people, and it makes it impossible for her to be close with anyone. It makes life extremely difficult for her. It makes living difficult for her.

Rose wants [honesty and trust and being able to grow and change] so badly, but she can’t really accomplish any of that until she accepts herself—and she never does.

quotes from rebecca sugar: on rose and greg

Rose and Greg have a very specific relationship. They parallel each other: Greg left his unsupportive family to follow his dreams. He changes his name and begins living as his stage persona...He invents himself.

Rose is instantly interested in Greg; he’s so human, sweet and funny and pliable. But as they get a little deeper into their relationship, Greg starts to realize how alien she actually is. She objectifies him, she laughs at him...she can’t seem to relate to him or pick up on how he’s feeling. They have a physical relationship, but they’ve never had a meaningful conversation. He starts to feel used. So he challenges her in a way she’s never been challenged before: he asks her to treat him like an equal. This is huge for her. She’s always been less than the other Diamonds and more than everyone else. She opens up to him in a real way, and over time she’s ready to confess everything to him. But he understands what it is to run away from home and reinvent yourself. He doesn’t need her old name and he’s not going to drag her through whatever it was she ran from; as far as he’s concerned, her old self isn’t the real her anyway. The real her is her in the present, the person she decided to be. [...] This is an incredible relief for her! With him, she can live authentically in the moment...They both can, but on the flip side, they enable each other. She never unpacks what scares her about her past, and neither does he.

They really wanted to have a child [...] It’s something they are genuinely excited about. And that’s something that’s left a little open-ended—just how selfish it was for Rose to do this knowing that she would disappear. What Rose is doing is outrageously selfless and outrageously selfish at the same time, and you can really read it both ways and neither is untrue.

chart notes: on pink diamond/rose quartz

Pink learns to keep secrets. She tells her new Pearl to keep them too. (She puts on an act. Behaves better.) She doesn’t trust herself...keeps asking her Pearl what to do...

The Game: Rose plays Batman on the ground. (Pearl is Robin and Alfred.) Pink tries to use Rose as an excuse to call off the invasion. This backfires when Blue and Yellow send in reinforcements.

Rose finds herself the head of a family. Determined to be everything White was not—she is close with everyone, flexible in everything. Love & fun are the rule—and there are no rules—and everyone is the most special!

chart notes: on rose and the crystal gems

Pink keeps asking Pearl what she thinks. Pearl understands she should have no opinions, and should follow orders. She is caught in a paradox. Her head swims. She laughs—feels scared—what is this?

Pearl is falling in love. Pink, as Rose, is intoxicating. She’s free somehow. They both are, when they’re on Earth.

Rose falls in love with Pearl’s surprising boldness that comes out of left field—!

Pearl and Rose start fusing a lot.

Pearl and Rose—the dust clears, revealing an endless honeymoon. Pink is gone and Pearl is free—free to love Rose.

Garnet trusts Rose, respects her secrets. She sees in Rose a self-made gem, a quartz that transcended her station out of sheer will and the power of self-love. Garnet loves Rose and her mystery, the way she learns to love & embrace the mystery of herself. Rose is her rock and inspiration.

Rose teaches Amethyst: you can be anything you want to be! Huge advocate of shapeshifting, self-expression, anarchy—however, Amethyst can sense shame from Rose and Pearl over the Kindergarten.

chart notes: on rose and the crystal gems, post-pink diamond reveal

Amethyst finally understands Rose: wanting her to shapeshift, not feel obligated to be a quartz, suddenly feels sympathy...kinship. It wasn’t Amethyst being inspired by Rose—Rose was inspired by them!

Garnet shocked: Rose taught her to love herself. If that was a lie—if Pink Diamond was self-hating, and wanted to disappear—than what does that mean for Garnet? No—it wasn’t Garnet being inspired by Rose—Rose was inspired by them!

Pearl is finally released—but, a rift—! Garnet feels betrayed! But, Pink did change! Pink did grow! Rose was different! That’s why Pearl was inspired by Rose—or, wait—Rose was inspired by them!

chart notes: on pink and the other diamonds

Pink, the littlest diamond, is largely ignored by Yellow, Blue, and White. Her silly impulses and eccentricities are not particularly helpful to the other diamonds in their endeavors. No one wants to play with her. Pink desperately wants White’s attention and approval (she will never get it).

Pink’s [original] Pearl is the only one who sees how much this upsets Pink. Pink is bright in front of Yellow, Blue, White—but when they don’t have time for her, she privately takes it hard.

Noticing Pink’s behavior, Yellow and Blue think she should have her own colony. White insists—she hasn’t really changed. She’ll never change. She gives Pink a colony—if only to prove Pink will fail.

White knows Pink is out there. This expensive, embarrassing tantrum is not worth her attention. Pink will come groveling back when she’s done running away from home.

Yellow and Blue are relieved to have Pink back—but White is vindicated. I knew you’d be back, your silly game is over—get back in place.

Steven gets Yellow and Blue to understand who he is now. But White won’t have it [...] In an ultimate act of self love, Steven fuses with himself, as White realizes—she can be wrong, and she’s truly lost her ‘daughter’.

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 19:

A/N: Here it is besties, v sorry for this but I live to cause chaos!! They both have some growing and living to do over the next chapters which will span around ten years. Stick around it’s gonna be interesting! Also Hotch looks rlly good here hehe

Warnings: None, really. Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, heavy angst.

———

“I'm scared I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a state of yearning, regardless of where I am.” - Melina Marchetta

———

08:00

It happens slowly then all at once. He knows he feels lighter, physically, before he’s fully conscious - can’t feel the warm weight of you on top of him. He frowns as he slowly awakens fully, feeling for your body next to him.

When all he feels are sheets, he comes to, a little quicker, opening one eye to look around. When he doesn’t see you, he figures you left to go to the bathroom but a piece of paper on your pillow catches his eye.

He frowns as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes when the doorbell begins to ring incessantly. He looks between the door, the paper and then the door again, tucking the note underneath his pillow to come back to later. He takes a cursory look at the clock -

08:00

He runs downstairs with a grin, thinking maybe you went out to grab coffee and forgot you didn’t have a key, but when he opens the door, icy shock runs through his veins.

“Hi, Aaron.”

“Haley?” He replies stunned. He glances behind him, increasingly alarmed now as to your whereabouts.

She averts her gaze from Hotch’s half naked form, it’s nothing she hasn't seen before but there’s a barrier between them now. Even with what she’s about to tell him.

“Can we talk?”

“-This…. isn’t really a good time.” He replies, glancing behind him again. He uses his body to block what lies behind him, clothing littering the floor as evidence of last night. His cheeks run hot when he realises Haley already spotted it all.

“We need to talk. I wouldn’t have shown up like this, but she told me to come by at 8. Said I should talk to you.”

He frowns. “Who?” He asks, despite hazarding a very good guess he already knows the answer.

“Look, can I just come in? I'm really cold and this is incredibly awkward.”

He sighs, “Yeah- yeah come in.” He steps aside to let her in, picks his shirt up off the floor and begins to button it as he invites her to sit.

Haley tells him that she managed to track you down outside your apartment yesterday. His jaw ticks and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip, agitated. “Why would you do that?”

“I figured I owed her an apology. Ultimately I was the one who put her in danger with-” She licks her lips. “With him. I thought we should talk.”

“So you resorted to stalking?” He paces. He can’t figure out why you’d ask her to come by now, especially if you were going to spend the night last night.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looks sick. “I kind of knew that you felt something for her, and I figured she probably did too. Clearly I was right.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

She throws her hands up. “No! No, that's not what I meant. I need to tell you something but before I did, I needed to tell her, I owed her some courtesy after everything at least.”

He tilts his head and his eyes narrow. “Get to the point.”

She pulls out an envelope and slides it across the coffee table. She breathes shakily, nodding at it. “It’s all in there.”

He watches her quizzically, confused at her demeanour - she’s never been one to be at a loss for words. He takes a seat opposite, studying her as he peels open the envelope.

A sliver of cold panic works its way through his veins as he scans the page.

LABCORP DNA TESTING SERVICES

Sample 1 - BROOKS/HOTCHNER : Positive Match

Sample 2 - BROOKS/HOTCHNER : Positive Match

“What the hell is this?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

She swallows thickly, abetting her gaze. “It’s a paternity test. I’m pregnant.” She tells him quietly.

His chest tightens and his head starts swimming. “What? I don’t believe you.”

“It’s right there on the paper. It’s yours.” She looks like she’s holding back vomit, the colour on her face drained. She studies Aaron for any kind of a reaction but he still looks confused.

“I want another one.” He tells her waving the paper. “How far along are you?”

“3 and a half months.”

“Wait,” He winces as the cold realisation hits him. “You told her?”

She nods.

The colour drains from his face and he shoots up from his seat, remembering everything he’d told you yesterday about how he would do things differently if he ever became a father. Knowing now what you knew then, he can’t begin to fathom what must have been going through your mind yesterday.

He shoots up the stairs three at a time, hoping he’s not too late.

———

06:00

Your eyes burn with the lack of sleep and the aftermath of your breakdown. You lay still against Aaron’s chest, your hand splayed flat against his skin. You’ve been watching him sleep for most of the night, memorising all you can about him, and imagining an alternate future where you could’ve ended up together.

But it doesn’t help. All it goes is drive a stake deeper into your heart because no matter how much you imagine, it doesn’t change your future. The sun begins to rise sure enough, a promise of another day but the lighter it gets, the more your stomach turns and the tighter your chest gets.

You pull Aaron in closer one more time, fusing your body to his and you close your eyes. His hands run down your bag gently as he stirs in his sleep. You take a minute to take him in one last time, despite your aching heart you try to hold onto the happiness you’d felt before it all came crashing down.

You doubt you’ll feel for anyone the way you feel for him. But you can’t be selfish, not now. You whisper to him, barely audible, the words you need to get off your chest and with a gentle kiss to his sleeping face, you slink out of his arms.

You gather your clothes, and from the credenza drawer downstairs, grab a pen and paper.

‘Dearest Aaron…’

Tears stain your face as you initial the bottom of the letter and with a final breath, you fold it and scrawl his initials on top. You reluctantly walk back upstairs and when you see Aaron’s peaceful face in a deep sleep, it takes everything in you to walk away. You place the note on your pillow, and turn away before you change your mind.

But as you approach the door, you turn to take one last look at him, willing your memory to hold on to this image, to the feel of him. To what it feels like to be loved by him.

“Goodbye Aaron.” You whisper.

———

08:30hrs:

He struggles to get his pants on, throwing on odd socks and grabbing the note on the pillow which he stuffs haphazardly into his three day old jacket. He runs down the stairs three at a time, passing Haley on the way as he grabs his keys.

She looks at him with panic and confusion. “Go back to the hotel, I’ll call you!” He tells her. She looks around, stunned as the door slams shut behind him.

He fumbles with his phone, dialling your number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He tries Emily but it goes to voicemail too. He dials the direct line to your assistant and on the last ring, she picks up.

“Agent Hotchner?”

“Leah?”

“Yeah? Is everything okay?”

He desperately asks if she has any idea of where you are today, if you have anything on your docket.

“Not that I can see, no. Is everything okay?”

“Look, can you find out if she’s home and call me?” He hangs up and purposely turns on the sirens to weave through traffic to your place. In a cruel twist of fate, he curses the numerous traffic logs he encounters on his way, thinking he’ll deal with the fallout of using his lights without reason later.

He finally turns onto your street, tires screeching as he pulls up behind a blacked out towncar, into which an older gentleman appears to be hauling suitcases. He doesn’t bother closing the door as he exits his SUV, his eyes trailing on the suitcases being piled into the trunk of the towncar when he hears your voice.

He stops in his tracks.

“Alright, James. I think that’s the last of the b-”

The air leaves your lungs when you catch sight of him. There’s a brief moment when you think you think you’re imagining him but your chest squeezes when you look at his face, halfway between confused, devastated and just plain betrayed.

He utters your name with a shaky whisper. “What is this? What’s going on?” He asks unsteady, already knowing the answer.

You hand your bags to James who ducks between you to receive them, the tension thick and heavy. “I’m sorry, I planned on…” You struggle for the words. “Being done earlier than this. This is what I wanted to avoid.”

He retreats, eyebrows shooting up. “This, what? You wanted to avoid saying goodbye to me? You couldn’t even extend me the grace of telling me you were leaving?” He pulls out your note from his pocket, shaking it in front of you. “You left this and thought it would be enough? After everything that happened with us.”

“Come on, Aaron. You know that’s not what I meant. But you know why I’m leaving, it’s why you’re here. And I knew you would do this, I knew you’d try and talk me out of going. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat.

The desperation inside him starts to claw at him. “You don’t have to leave. We’re adults, we can figure this out.” He takes both of your hands tightly in his.

You shake your head. “I won’t put you in that position, I know how important this is to you. I won’t put myself in that position either.” He opens his mouth to oppose you but he knows as well as you do that this is the end. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but this was easier when I had a stalker, all I had to worry about was making it through the day without being murdered. But things are real now, you have a career and a family to worry about, I have to go to college. I guess we just didn’t think this through.”

He retreats slightly, a hurt expression on his face. “That doesn’t mean it was wrong.” He says, quietly. “I told you I’d wanted to be with you for a long time, and I meant it. I don’t regret any of it.”

You cup his cheek. “Neither do I. But we both know what needs to happen. I can’t stay.”

He caresses your hand on his cheek with bereft eyes. “You changed me, you know?”

You laugh dryly. “With your gig at the BAU? Forget it, you’ll be saving people left and right.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice cracks. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t have more time. I think this could have been something.”

“Did you read the note?” He shakes his head. “Wait until I’m gone to read it - you don’t have to. But if you ever find yourself doubting or second-guessing who you were to me - who you are to me? You should read that. It has everything you’ll need to know.”

He brings his forehead to yours, glassy eyes watching you with so much affection you think you might just break. “Can we stay here? Just for a minute? I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He asks.

You nod and loop your arms around his neck, tiptoeing to reach his height. He hugs you back with ferocity, face burying in the crook of your neck as he takes you in, memorises the way you body slots against his, how you smell and feel. He presses his eyes shut, willing his brain to commit every last feeling to memory, terrified that there may come a day when he no longer remembers how he loves you.

You muffle your sobs as best as you can, clutching at the material of his shirt, and the small tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. Try as you might, when you close your eyes, all you can see is a reel of your relationship with Aaron, spanning from the moment you met to now.

All of it comes rushing back: the gazebo, your apartment, numerous late night coffees and dinners, his face in the cabin, the hospital and of course, the nights and days you spent in bed. The pond, the balcony, the laughter. The love. You feel a hole consuming your chest and you struggle to breathe, cursing yourself for falling in love with the one man you couldn’t possibly ever have.

James beeps from inside the towncar, and you reluctantly loosen your grip on Aaron, sniffling as you let him go. It feels infinitely harder to detangle yourself from him now, like tearing a bandage off of a raw wound, but you know you need to go.

And so does he.

His eyes are watery when you look at him, yours mirroring his heartbreak. “I guess this is it.” He rasps.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Can I kiss you goodbye?”

You nod solemnly. His hands cup your cheeks lovingly, wiping away a stray tear. He leans in, and presses his lips to yours for the last time. He takes his time, allowing himself to linger in the moment, and convey everything he can in this kiss without having to say it. Wants to remember how soft your lips are and the way you taste.

Your tears fall steadily now, your own hands tangling in his hair. You selfishly wish you could stay here, throw away any and all integrity just to keep him for yourself. But you both have things to do, futures to live.

You break the kiss, forehead resting against his. His hand cradles the back of your head, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, lips lingering before he finally lets go.

You fish in your pocket and take his hand in yours, dropping your key into his palm. He looks at you quizzically. “Keep it, give it to the super, I don’t mind. But lock up for me?” You ask him.

He nods, closing his hand around yours, a desperate attempt to keep you close for a few more fleeting moments. He presses a desperate kiss laced with finality on your lips as you release yourself from his embrace.

Watching you reach for the car door sends him into a tailspin. You’re just about in the car when you hear him call your name. His voice is strained. “Listen, I just- before you go. There’s something I need to tell you.” His face is contorted with desperation and his voice laced with something utterly heartbroken.

You know where he’s going with this. You weren’t sure if he felt it until now, horrible fucking timing, but it’s still something.

“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say, Aaron. Please don’t.” You sob. “This is already one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, please don’t make it harder. I know what you’re going to say. But before you do… just please don’t?” You plead.

He swallows thickly, choking back tears, too. “I do, though.”

You breathe through the hole in your chest. “I know, Aaron. I do, too.” Your smile is bitter as you open the car door and step inside gingerly, keeping your eyes on the sidewalk where he stands. He walks over to you, tangles your fingers with his briefly before cradling your chin, wiping another stray tear.

“Maybe in another life?” He whispers.

“Maybe in another life.” You tell him with a sad smile.

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

I love you.

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

I love you.

He watches the car peel away longingly, muttering aloud the words that he’d whispered two nights ago when he thought you were asleep.

“I love you.”

———

09:15

Your car pulls up to the airstrip forty-five minutes later and you can hear the deafening engine of the plane before you even step out of the car. You place a $50 in the hand of the man who opens your door for you, throwing a quick thank you his way as you obscure your puffy eyes with a pair of sunglasses.

You offer the men loading your luggage a small smile and hand them their tips, before boarding the plane. You spot Emily on the far left side of the plane, her face buried in a copy of Mother Night.

When she sees you, she shoots up from her seat, throwing her book onto the table in front of her. “Oh my God! You came! Hi!” Her good arm wraps around your neck for a hug and you stiffen against her. “What made you change your mind?” She asks.

You close your mouth just as soon as you open it when the curtain dividers open.

“Darling!” Ambassador Prentiss emerges from her office, behind a divider on the plane. She has a phone receiver against her chest, you assume to muffle her voice to whoever is on the other end. “Emmy and I are so glad you decided to join us, we’ll be taking off in around 15 minutes.” She tells you, glancing at her watch.

You shoot her a polite smile and thank her, and she looks between you and Emily, excusing herself back to her office.

“I’ll let you girls catch up.”

Emily leads you to the seat opposite her, her face now showing signs of concern. She watches your face for an answer but when nothing comes, she asks outright.

“What happened? I thought you were going to stick around and see what happens? You had a date right? Her words scratch your skin.

“Date’s off.” You swallow.

Her eyes widen. “What? Why?!”

“His ex is pregnant and it’s his.” You reply nonchalantly, rapidly blinking back tears behind your sunglasses.

Her mouth drops open. “Holy shit! Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You reply, gazing out of the window.

Emily watches you in shock, unsure of what to say. She can tell by your demeanour that you’re in shock but she can’t do anything except hold your hand and tell you she’s sorry with a quiet voice.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

———

09:00

When he keys open your apartment door, he’s hit with an eerie silence, a heart wrenching emptiness. He attempts to turn a lamp on but the electricity has been turned off, leaving the living room cold and dark.

His mind fills in the spaces between the emptiness, picturing you sitting on your couch, or on the bar stools around your island. Can hear the incessantly loud TV, and your laughter from your room.

Your room is just as empty too, a few stray clothes hangers remain in the wardrobes and when he turns to look out at your balcony, he swears he sees your shadow outside. He makes sure the doors and windows are secure and makes his way back to your living room, the entire experience harrowing, like walking through a graveyard of memories.

His legs give out as he walks back to the living room, sinking onto the couch. A picture of you catches his eye on the side table next to him, the same one he’d caressed gently when you’d been taken by Jordan. He’d thought then, that was the worst moment of his life, had he known what was to come, he’d have reserved his judgement.

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently brushes a finger over the glass, unable to keep the tears from coming now. He wishes with everything you could have stayed, can feel it deep within him that you’ll keep a part of his heart for years to come. Then he remembers the note.

He opens the folded paper with trembling hands.

‘Dearest Aaron,

I sit in your living room right now, struggling for the words to write but I can’t seem to come up with anything that truly encapsulates how I feel. How I’m incredibly sorry to have to leave like this, how I wish with everything in me that I didn’t have to, I wish this could have ended differently.

I want to say thank you. You may not know or understand this, but for all the good and bad, you truly changed my life. I met you during the darkest and scariest part of my life, when I had nobody - when I was all alone. And in you came like a light and protected me fiercely, taught me everything I needed to save my life. You did that.

You saved me.

You changed me.

Despite the circumstances, we did have something, a friendship, maybe the start of something more - something real. Don’t ever doubt that. The last two days were two of the best of my life, a fitting reward, I thought, after everything I’d been through. But I couldn’t let you talk me into staying, because I know you, and you would have tried, told me that we could’ve worked something out - and it would’ve been selfish of me to stay.

I want you to know that I am so incredibly happy for you. This wasn't an easy decision, but I’m leaving of my own choice. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be an amazing father. That child will be loved and oh so lucky to have you and your warmth as a father. I know how much this means to you, how important it is for you to give your child a better life than the one you and Sean had.

And you will.

Thank you for everything you did for me, thank you for saving me over and over again. Thank you for teaching me to be brave, and for coming into my life. My hope for you is that you’ll build a wonderful life with your beautiful little family and achieve everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

You’ll change the world one day.

Know that I will always have a special place for you in my heart.

I’ll never forget you.

All my love.’

He swallows the burning in his chest. Two days were all he had with you and he stupidly saw himself able to imagine a future with you, could imagine loving you for the rest of his life - but then he’d been in love with you long before you’d asked him to stay.

He winces as something digs into his chest and he reaches for his inside jacket pocket until something cold makes contact with his fingers.

His heart stops, molten lava running through his veins.

Your necklace.

He grips it until the sharp edges of the pendant feel like they’re about to puncture his skin.

Maybe he wasn’t destined for peace, for love. The love that he wanted. Maybe a happy ending wasn’t written for him and he’d have to make peace with that. At least he had the memory of your face burnt into his brain, the smell of your hair, the sound of your laughter.

That finite part of you would get him through eternity.

———

20:00

You’ve rejected every meal you’ve been offered by the staff aboard the plane, instead choosing to down Emily’s bottle of red wine. It eases the heaviness in your head, that’s true but the ache in your chest still remains.

Emily’s since drifted off to sleep, her book laying open against her stomach, meal half-eaten. You stare at the blinking lights of the plane and the clouds below you until everything starts to blur.

You love him. He loves you. That much is true. You never had believed in the concept of the right person but the wrong time, how could you? If the person was right, the timing would surely be inconsequential.

That was until you met Aaron.

In this life, in the grey harsh reality, after everything you had been through with him, the simple fact that two people love one another pales in comparison to the bloody reality of commitments, matters of the mind and sacrifice.

He loves you and you love him. It just isn’t enough.

He aches for you and you ache for him. But it’s still just out of reach.

Your hearts aren’t your own anymore. But you have to go on anyway.

———

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[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

I was thinking about an amazing fic wherein Geralt locks himself away in his own mind, leaving nothing but the wolf, and also one of my old friend’s fluffy h/c fics where a heat-crazed omega and an alpha who refuses to have sex with heat-crazed omegas cuddle for like 2.5 days straight, and also ace week. So. Here is this.

words: 1,737 characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Lambert, Roach, Eskel and Vesemir mentioned summary: Geralt forgets to take his meds (inspired by my own personal experiences with forgetting meds for longer than a week), and gets cuddly. Jaskier’s fine with it because it amuses him.

~

Geralt was acting strange.

Then again, he wasn’t a human, so his actions weren’t really supposed to be familiar. That made Jaskier happy, to be honest. He’d had enough of trying to puzzle out other humans; Geralt was just as complex, but far more straightforward.

But still, this fussing was out of character. He was so particular about hunting and buying food, and insisted on getting Jaskier a thick wool cape, and seemed hyper-aware of the changing seasons. Finally, Jaskier decided he wasn’t naïve enough for this.

“Geralt, why are you doing this?”

Geralt, half asleep and curled around Jaskier protectively, mumbled, “Winter soon. Gotta keep you healthy.”

Jaskier grinned, and squirmed over onto his back. “My dear, not that I’m complaining about your care, but why now?” he asked, booping Geralt’s nose.

The Witcher scowled and said, “You’re my mate. Have to take care of my mate.”

Jaskier’s heart tripped.

Geralt must have heard, because he suddenly became very awake, staring at Jaskier with wide eyes and a set mouth. Jaskier breathed in and out slowly; there was no point hiding his immediate reaction, but he should at least try to stay calm.

“Do Witchers see mates the same way as us humans?” he asked.

Geralt didn’t move for an agonizingly long moment. Then he said softly, “No. Mates are… they’re people we… you won’t betray us.”

Jaskier stared back. And then he grinned, and snuggled against Geralt, rubbing his nose on his Witcher’s collarbone. Said Witcher relaxed, wuffled in contentment much like a big, lazy dog, and wrapped Jaskier up tight in his arms.

“Mates are people you trust not to hurt you?” the bard hazarded, unable to stop grinning.

“Yes. Go to sleep, now.”

“Oh, alright.”

~

A month later, as they were beginning their ascent of the mountains, Jaskier decided that Geralt had been lying.

As soon as they had left the last human village, Geralt’s human habits began to fade into more animalistic ones: instead of cooking the few plump rabbits he was able to hunt, he portioned them out and ate the organs while Jaskier cooked the meat. He insisted on finger-combing Jaskier’s hair every night (which the bard quite liked). His movements became smooth in the way of a predatory animal, not a man with predatory mutations. Roach began to snort and sidle at times, trying to keep her distance.

And Geralt didn’t even pretend he wasn’t coddling Jaskier like a delicate maiden.

It was very odd. And yet, Jaskier didn’t really mind. Geralt wasn’t smothering him; he was simply far more attentive than ever before. More attentive than he was with Yennefer, even.

Jaskier’s breath catched, and he cleared his throat to hide the noise, trudging up the narrow path behind Geralt and in front of Roach. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about her--not when he was going to spend the winter with his dearest friend.

Geralt suddenly turned, stared at Jaskier, and then whined as his face melted into a look of worry. If he’d had wolf ears, Jaskier thought, apropos of nothing, they would be upright and shivering.

Jaskier smiled. “I’m alright, my dear,” he said. No matter how softly he spoke, the cold stone of the mountain caught the sounds and threw them into an echo as if he had shouted. “I was thinking of something, that’s all.”

Geralt closed the distance between them in three fluid steps and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, whining and sniffing the bard as if his scent would give away his thoughts.

Jaskier felt his heart grow warm again. “I’m alright,” he repeated, leaning into Geralt’s embrace. “I’m with you, aren’t I? I’m always alright with you.”

Geralt made a wolf-like noise of happiness, and then kissed Jaskier. When his mouth opened in surprise, the Witcher’s tongue slid in and licked the inside--and not in a sexy way.

“Ew!” he shrieked, wrenching back. “Geralt, you brute, what are you doing?”

“My mate,” Geralt rumbled. It was the first time he’d used recognizable words in nearly a week. He was also smiling, so fondly and sweetly. “My pretty mate.”

Jaskier’s cheeks heated immediately, and he pressed his face into Geralt’s neck. “Alright, you win. My… my mate.”

Geralt hummed in deep contentment. After several moments, they untangled from each other, Geralt licked Jaskier’s lips, and they continued their journey.

The cold of winter was setting in painfully fast. While much of the coast was quite pleasant, Jaskier had spent many years in Lettenhove shivering through storms and snow that killed at least three people every winter--but usually more. He knew what to expect from sharp cold; he’d just never been in a place this dry and cold.

They were only a few days away from Kaer Morhen when the air pressure changed so quickly that Jaskier’s ears popped twice. The dry feeling that had seeped into his every orifice vanished as the first snowstorm began to brew; he breathed in deeply and grinned at the moisture that sank into his mouth, nose, throat, and lungs. Now this was the kind of winter weather he was used to.

Geralt growled and hustled his mate and horse along as fast as was safe.

Jaskier barely had time to feel relief at the sight of the trail leveling out before the snowstorm opened and everything became a white-and-grey blur. He and Roach both stopped in their tracks, and he called out, “Geralt?! Geralt, where are you?!”

A dark form hulked into his personal space and embraced him. It smelled and felt like his witcher. Jaskier clung to him, and tried not to think about the day he had joined a rescue attempt to find the last fishing vessel in the middle of a wild storm. There had been sirens. The sailors used a horn to drive them away; Jaskier had panicked and started singing, and the sirens had fallen silent.

He wasn’t allowed on the ocean after that, and he was very glad.

But this wasn’t the ocean. He had never realized how much he trusted solid boats and salty water before he became so acutely aware that one misstep would send him tumbling through nothing.

Geralt hoisted Jaskier up in one arm, took hold of Roach’s reins, and continued on the path.

It seemed like a thousand years before hands tugged at his cloak, and Geralt snarled viciously. Jaskier clung tighter, and did not raise his head until they passed into a space that wasn’t windy.

“Ger’l?” he whispered.

Geralt rumbled reassuringly and nuzzled under Jaskier’s hood to lick his ear; the warmth of his tongue shocked the bard’s cold skin. “Safe,” Geralt said, and set him down on his feet.

Jaskier smiled, and promptly collapsed.

~

“He won’t take his medicine, not until his mate is awake.”

“That’s so stupid! Doesn’t he want to be able to think?”

“Yes, but he’s not Geralt right now. He doesn’t have a human mind. I told him he needed to get better at making it himself…”

Jaskier opened his eyes the barest crack, and tried to make a noise. He couldn’t. He was so tired and foggy.

Almost immediately, someone was kissing his face, and licking it, and giving tiny puppy noises of joy and worry. He smiled, and opened his eyes wider.

It was Geralt, of course, looking absolutely delighted. Jaskier reached up one shaky hand and booped his nose.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“Hello,” Geralt replied.

~

There were three other Witchers in the keep: a tired father, a calm and kind elder brother, and a pissy baby who was only a few years older than Jaskier. They stayed far away from him, although they were courteous, and provided him with food since he couldn’t leave his nest by the fire due to Geralt constantly lying on top of him and acting like a love-sick puppy. Jaskier began to worry about that merely an hour after he woke.

Four hours after he was awake, the pissy baby brother approached with a tray holding two pottery cups. He set it down near Jaskier and ordered, “Give him the blue cup, it has his medicine in it.”

Jaskier looked at the cups. One was green and the other was a soft purple. “Ah… those are green and purple.”

The Witcher stared at him, then at the cups, then back at him. “What?” he said blankly.

“This one is green,” Jaskier pointed to said cup, “And this one is purple. Which one is blue to you?”

The Witcher pointed silently, and Jaskier nodded, picking up the cups carefully and handing the “blue” one to Geralt, who cocked his head curiously.

“It’s just a drink,” Jaskier told him soothingly. “It will help us both feel better.” He sipped his own and tasted spiced cider, which made him hum in appreciation. Geralt downed his drink in three quick gulps, set his cup back on the tray… and then yelped and rolled off of Jaskier, thrashing and howling.

“Geralt!” Jaskier tried to lunge for him, but the other Witcher held him back. “Geralt! What did you do to him?!”

“Gave him his medicine that he hasn’t been taking for probably three fucking months,” the Witcher said tersely. “Watch him.”

Jaskier never took his eyes off Geralt, heart pounding with fear. After a few minutes of thrashing, his wolfish sounds melted into human curses, and when he laid still, panting harshly, Jaskier strained towards him again. “Geralt!” he cried, reaching for him.

Geralt looked at Jaskier, frowned, then looked absolutely terrified. Before Jaskier could ask, he was up and out of the room.

“Geralt?” Jaskier repeated softly.

“He’s just embarrassed,” the youngest Witcher grunted, letting go of Jaskier. “Drink your cider. He’ll come back when I leave.”

So Jaskier drank, and the Witcher left, and after a whole three minutes, Geralt slunk back in and sat beside Jaskier. After a moment, the bard lunged and squirmed into Geralt’s lap, hugging him tightly.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“I licked you,” Geralt said.

Jaskier laughed merrily and kissed him. “Yes, you did. You also played with my hair.”

“And called you my mate.”

Jaskier paused. “Well… yes. Was that a mistake?”

Geralt shrugged and wrapped his arms around Jaskier. “Dunno. Do… would you mind if… are you alright with that?”

“Yes, my dear, I am very alright with it.”

“Oh. Good.”

And then Geralt snogged him senseless.

[itsclydebitches]

I am briefly pausing my normal RWBY content to talk about something completely different: Kang Soo-Jin. 

I binged True Beauty recently. As in, “I haven’t managed to watch anything new in half a year, discovered this drama, and promptly marathoned 14+ hours of content,” so to say I’m enjoying it is an understatement. I might do another post sometime about why I think the show works so well, but for now, like many (drama only) viewers, I’m specifically grappling with Soo-Jin’s descent into antagonist territory. At first I was just as shocked and disappointed as others seem to be, but upon reflection I don’t think this is badly written in the way many fans are claiming. To frame this as, “I can’t believe they would make wonderful Soo-Jin suddenly OOC and bully Ju-Kyung over a guy!” is ignoring core parts of her character. I’m as sick of the girl-hates-girl-over-guy plotline as the next viewer, but in the interest of acknowledging that there are exceptions to every rule, I think this is one of the times where that choice makes perfect sense. 

Soo-Jin has been abused throughout her life and I’m not simply talking about the fact that her father hits her. Though that’s obviously horrific, what I think is more pertinent to this conversation is the intense competitiveness her parents have instilled in her. The physical abuse comes about because Soo-Jin fails (in their eyes) to be the best, which is where Ju-Kyung comes in. The Soo-Jin we knew in earlier episodes wasn’t faking. She isn’t an inherently evil person who was just waiting for the right time to show her true colors. Rather, at the start of the story Ju-Kyung—crucially—was not in competition with Soo-Jin. Or rather, Soo-Jin did not perceive her as competition. She’s after the best grades in the school and Ju-Kyung is notoriously at the bottom of the class. All she has going for her are her (new) looks and her easy-going personality that makes her popular, two things that Soo-Jin isn’t interested in. Even if she were, those things already come naturally to her too. She’s already friends with Soo-A and, as is commented on multiple times, naturally beautiful without any makeup on. Soo-Jin has been taught—literally had it beaten into her—that she must be the best and in the beginning of the show she pretty much is: popular, mature, confident, smart… just not the smartest in her class. Ju-Kyung doesn’t threaten any of that, so friendship initially comes easily for Soo-Jin, the sort of friendship that allows her to chase perverts off busses or hide her friend’s real face. 

This changes once Soo-Jin’s “perfect” mask begins to slip. They’re heading towards college, she’s running out of time, and she still hasn’t managed to take the top spot in the class. Worse, she drops out of the top ten. This exacerbates the abuse to the point where, as we see, she’s constantly in the bathroom trying to cope by washing her hands. Any tiny deviation from that “perfection”  — like, say, leaving your tutoring session when you realize your lifelong friend just got devastating news — results in the sort of yelling/physical abuse she can only escape from via a locked door. While things get worse on her end, they get better on Ju-Jyung’s. Her grades go up some and she becomes even more popular, attracting not only school-wide attention, but the attention of the two hottest guys too, including Soo-Ho. For a while this is still fine from Soo-Jin’s perspective, but things really take a turn when Ju-Kyung changes Soo-Ho. Meaning, she helps him come out of his shell and teaches him how to be a kinder person… which includes being a better friend to Soo-Jin. The Soo-Ho who suddenly lies and announces that they have to go study just to get Soo-Jin away from her father’s insults, all of it stemming from a small tick he paid attention to, or comforting her while she sobs over the abuse… that Soo-Ho didn’t exist at the story’s start. He was too wrapped up in his own grief and has been that way for a long time. They may have known each other since childhood, but Soo-Jin and Soo-Ho don’t appear to be particularly close in the past—all Soo-Ho’s flashbacks are with Seo-Joon and Se-Yeon. But that starts to change once Soo-Ho himself changes. Soo-Jin’s ability to keep it together is unraveling, Soo-Ho is opening up and becoming more emotionally available (something Soo-Jin even comments on), then her whole class starts eagerly talking up how good they would be as a couple… so Soo-Jin sees a lifeline. Soo-Ho will care for her even when no one else will. Of course he will. She’s already seen him be that person multiple times. 

The problem is that Soo-Ho has his own life and his own problems to grapple with. Between grief over See-Yeon, panic over telling Ju-Kyung how he feels, and the initial rush of dating—what couple doesn’t want to spend all their time together at the start?—he doesn’t have much energy for Soo-Jin. Which from his perspective is fine. They don’t normally hang out together outside of study groups, so yeah, he can put off a conversation with her… not realizing that Soo-Jin is now putting all her emotional eggs in his basket. By the time her feelings are coming to light, Soo-Jin is actively sabotaging her own attempts to get attention and compassion from Soo-Jin. By manipulating them—here’s a new scrunchy to remind you that you’re my best friend and you can’t ever betray me, here I am showing up unannounced at your apartment and guilting you into not spending more time with me, etc.—Soo-Jin has put Soo-Ho (rightfully) on his guard. He’s wary of having a private conversation with her about something she won’t name when he knows Ju-Kyung has been a mess over losing her friendship. He has no desire to listen to her confession of love after she’s just tossed Ju-Kyung’s beloved necklace into the fire. In her efforts to ensure that Soo-Ho pays attention to her, she only succeeds in driving him away. 

All of which makes Ju-Kyung the enemy in her eyes. The new competition. To her mind, friendship and love cannot co-exist because Ju-Kyung stands in the way of that love, therefore one has got to go. (In contrast Seo-Joon, coming from a loving family, is in time better able to accept that he can be friends with Soo-Ho even though he likes Ju-Kyung. We can discuss the problems inherent in giving one plot to the girl and the other to the guy, but as they are, these characters have concrete, in-world reasons for their different reactions to what’s essentially the same situation.) And why does love (“love”) win out over friendship? Because Soo-Jin has latched onto Soo-Ho being her boyfriend as the way to finally “win” at life and fix all her problems. It’s fine if she’s not the best provided she’s dating the best, just look at how much Dad fawned over him. Second place academically is suddenly an option provided the top student is on her team, so to speak. The fact that Soo-Ho is also one of the most handsome, a great athlete, super rich, and one of the few people to provide her with feelings of safety certainly doesn’t hurt matters. And the only thing that stands in her way of securing this life-saving “win” is Ju-Kyung. Who is she? No one compared to Soo-Jin. Her grades are terrible. She’s not wealthy. She’s pretty… but oh, only with her makeup on. 

Soo-Jin doesn’t need makeup, so why not win this competition by showing the whole school—showing Soo-Ho—what a fraud Ju-Kyung is? 

From Soo-Jin’s perspective she’s done the math and come out on top. Everything that (supposedly) matters she either has equal to Ju-Kyung, or is superior, therefore it’s obvious that Soo-Ho would choose her in the end. She says at much: If I had confessed first you would have loved me first, so now that I have confessed you’ll break up with her. Hell, even Ju-Kyung believes this. She has the nightmare about Soo-Ho learning that Soo-Jin has feelings for him and immediately, publicly breaking up with her. After all, if he suddenly has both as an option the winner is obvious, right? It’s all about competition, what they’ve been taught to believe is a competition: Ju-Kyung through her bullying and Soo-Jin through her abuse. The difference is that Ju-Kyung has had the whole series with Soo-Ho (and others) helping her slowly unlearn this mentality. Soo-Jin had the rug pulled out from under her in an instant. 

Soo-Ho says no, I wouldn’t have loved you if you had confessed first and I’m not going to date you now. It’s important to realize that this shatters Soo-Jin’s entire world. It’s not about a girl being upset that she can’t get the guy — not even about Soo-Ho as an individual, really —  it’s about an abused girl not knowing how to grapple with the fact that she finally did everything “right” and still couldn’t “win,” coupled with losing the last bit of security she had. Soo-Ho broke the unspoken rules Soo-Jin’s father beat into her and she doesn’t know where to go from there. She literally has no one else to turn to. So she falls back on the only way she does know how to handle a situation like this: by still trying to win. If Soo-Ho won’t admit that she’s better, she’ll force him to realize that by plastering Ju-Kyung’s “ugly” face all over social media. Which, to be clear, isn’t an excuse. This isn’t meant to be a way of absolving Soo-Jin of her absolutely horrific actions, only a means of explaining them. Her descent, while shocking to those of us who loved her initial character, is well written because it’s a nuanced look at what can happen when you abuse a kid her whole life and teach her that competition is everything. Oddly enough, she’ll apply a competitive outlook to everything and deal with her stress in unhealthy ways. Ju-Kyung is a victim of Soo-Jin now, but Soo-Jin is a victim too. Her home life has ensured that she does not know how to accept failure—or what true failure even means—so it was inevitable that when things got bad, she’d  try to fix it in ways that hurt both her and those around her. It’s all she knows how to do. 

So far less “Perfect girl goes ooc and abandons her friend over a boy” and far more “Abused girl falls into a terrible, but predictable cycle that the other stressed high schoolers around her are not equipped to break.” Soo-Jin’s story isn’t bad writing, it’s tragic. Thanks for coming to my three page TED talk ✌️

***

2/4/21 FINALE UPDATE! 

[contemplativepancakes]

enough to drive a man mad

~7k geraskier fake dating, because that is what this fandom needs. read on ao3 here!

Jaskier smells anxious. He reeked of apprehension all of yesterday, not to mention the fact that he hasn’t been able to sit still or stop tapping his foot on the wooden floorboards this morning. 

It’s grating on Geralt’s last nerve. 

“What, Jaskier?” he finally growls. 

Jaskier jumps, almost falling out of his chair from where he sits tapping his quill idly in his notebook. 

“What?”

“What has you so worked up?”

Jaskier looks Geralt in the eyes before glancing away again. He clears his throat. “Nothing.”

Geralt grunts. 

“Oh, don’t sound so unconvinced,” Jaskier complains. 

Geralt rolls his eyes, turning his back to Jaskier to finish settling all of his things into his pack. He wraps the glass jars carefully and tucks them between Jaskier’s shirts, so they don’t break. “If nothing is wrong, you’re ready to go then, right?”

Jaskier grumbles, but he tucks his notebook away and gets to his feet. 

They make it about three hours before Jaskier finally broaches the subject. 

“So, Geralt,” he starts. “Dear friend of mine.”

Geralt doesn’t even bother to look back at him. Nothing good can come with this as a conversation starter. 

“Have I ever told you about my parents?”

“No.”

Jaskier sighs. “I suppose not. Well, they’ve written to me. They want me to visit.”

Geralt thinks back to the letter an innkeeper had handed to Jaskier a few weeks ago, the one that made him eerily quiet the rest of the night and that he had clammed up about when Geralt questioned him. Jaskier was perky and practically completely back to normal the next morning, so Geralt had almost forgotten about it. Apparently, Jaskier had not done the same. 

“Hmm.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Dreadfully inconvenient for you. What will you do without your loyal companion?”

Geralt frowns. He hadn’t even thought about that, just registered the smell of unhappiness coming off of Jaskier at the thought of his parents. Jaskier  is  rather helpful, though. He’s never afraid to step in the middle of pay negotiations, inevitably getting Geralt more coin, and he’s certain Jaskier has stopped them from getting kicked out of at least three towns after Geralt had stumbled back to the inn covered in viscera. 

“Do you want to visit them?”

Jaskier trips over his feet, and Geralt dutifully looks away, pretending not to have noticed. “Not particularly. But I have to.”

Geralt won’t pretend to understand how a typical human family works, so he just accepts Jaskier’s words at face value. He’s never felt  obliged  to return to Kaer Morhen every winter; it’s something he looks forward to—to seeing his patchwork family. But Jaskier deliberately never speaks of his family, and gets twitchy every time anyone brings them up, so Geralt had accepted it as one of Jaskier’s many quirks and moved on. 

“Hmm. Well, I can travel with you there, at least. I’m sure there will be contracts in the area somewhere.”

Jaskier flushes red. “I was...I was actually hoping you would come with me.”

“What? I’m sure that’s not what your parents had in mind when they wanted you to visit. They wouldn’t want to meet  me .”

“Well, they said it’s unbecoming for someone of my age to be a bachelor. And, so I. I, um.” Jaskier scratches the back of his neck. “I told them I wasn’t. And I maybe sort of perhaps insinuated we were together.”

Geralt can feel a stress headache brewing.

-

Marilla looks down at the letter in shock. 

Dear Mother,

I fear I am not quite as much of a bachelor as you suppose. Have you heard any of my songs? I have gone and fallen head first into my muse. Typical, foolish me, but I’ve never been happier. We’ll visit soon. 

Julian

She doesn’t like to think about Julian’s songs, about how he couldn’t even keep the name she had given him. She thrusts the letter to her husband. “He’s coming to visit,” she says in disbelief. “When’s the last time we saw him?”

Ethbert considers this as he reads the letter. “At least five years.”

“And I can’t believe he hasn’t spoken of this ‘muse’ any sooner. I’m not sure I believe him.”

Ethbert gave Marilla a placating smile. “He’s probably just ashamed he hasn’t found himself a wife yet. We’ll find out when he comes, doubtless with an excuse about where his beloved is.”

Marilla sniffs. “You’re right.”

Nell looks down at the scene in the kitchen with wide eyes from her spot crouched down between the banisters at the top of the stairs. Her brother? With a wife? She could scarcely imagine it. She thinks back to the last time Julian was here, the way he had boasted to her about his conquests for hours, away from the prying ears of their parents. 

Well, surely if he had someone, he’d have talked about her in his songs. She resolves to get her hands on some of his music. She’ll solve this mystery before Julian even gets here.

-

“The first thing to know is that they’re awful,” Jaskier says, ticking down one of his fingers as he walks along beside Roach, seemingly uncaring of the dust that’s drifting up from her hooves and onto his doublet. “Well, except for my sister. Be nice to my sister, please, Geralt.”

“I’m nice to everyone.”

Jaskier stifles a laugh. “Mm. Be extra nice to her, then.”          

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“You need to loosen up, too. They’re never going to think we’re together when you look all...constipated like that.”

Geralt huffs. 

“You’re lucky opposites attract,” Jaskier says, before dragging a hand down his face. “This is never going to work, is it?” 

-

Nell squints at the lyrics spread out before her. This doesn’t sound very romantic to her at all. Maybe a breakup song?  She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss , Nell hums. She can’t help but notice there’s three different people the song is talking about, though. Odd. She shakes her head and moves onto the next song. 

This one is just a ditty, so Nell turns the page to see a song about the witcher Jaskier travels with. And then another, and another. Is he all Julian writes about? She expected to see love songs, not this nonsense. She goes through more of his catalogue, briefly regretting spending her allowance on the songbook, but she supposes it supports her brother, after all. 

She’ll just have to see what she can wheedle out of him while he’s here. 

Finally, after flipping through no less than four more songs about the witcher, she lands on one titled “The Eternal Flame.” 

Interesting. 

Around your house, now white from frost

Sparkles ice on pond and marsh

Your longing eyes grieve what is lost

But naught can change this parting harsh

  Spring will return, on the road the rain will fall

Hearts will be warmed by the heat of the sun

It must be thus, for fire still smolders in us all

An eternal fire, hope for each one

There, Nell can read some romance in. She rubs the ends of her hair together in thought. This one song certainly isn’t enough proof that Julian has actually found a wife. More like he’s still pining over some old flame. It doesn’t seem like he’s written very many good love songs at all. 

Nell rolls her eyes, thinking back to all the raunchy songs in his catalogue. Typical. 

There’s the squeak of the door opening downstairs, and Nell hastily slams the book shut and hides it under her mattress. She doesn’t want Julian seeing and getting a bigger head, after all. 

She straightens her dress and runs down the steps, eager to see if Julian’s by himself, which is her guess. She comes to a skidding halt when she sees who is with him. 

Oh.

She supposes he does write love songs, after all. 

-

Geralt shifts uncomfortably from the scrutiny Jaskier’s family is giving him. He wraps an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder, hoping he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels. He looks over to Jaskier for help, and Jaskier shrugs off his arm and takes Geralt by the hand, leading him forward to meet them. 

“Mother, Father, this is Geralt. Nell, this is a very large, scary witcher who will eat you up if you don’t behave.”

Geralt frowns. He thought Jaskier told him to be extra nice to his sister?

Nell laughs, a delightful, tinkling thing that reminds him of Jaskier’s. “He’s going to like me better than you by the time he leaves.”

Geralt looks back to Jaskier, only to see him sticking his tongue out at her. Right. Their relationship is definitely more antagonistic than Jaskier had prepared him for, so Geralt is glad he had Lambert to prepare him for these things. 

He’s not sure his interactions with Lambert would be appropriate to apply to Jaskier’s sister, though, so Geralt will let Jaskier handle the ribbing. 

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt finally says. “Jaskier’s told me a lot about you.”

Which, of course, is a lie, but Geralt knows that’s the polite thing to say. 

“He’s never even mentioned me, has he?” 

When Geralt waffles, Nell sniffs dramatically and casts Jaskier a betrayed look. 

Jaskier shoots that look right back to Geralt, and Geralt is so impossibly out of his depth right now. “Hmm.”

“Now look what you’ve done, you’ve made him regret agreeing to meet you in the first place!” Jaskier cries. 

“That’s quite enough, Julian,” Jaskier’s mother cuts in, and—Julian? 

He shoots Jaskier a puzzled look. Obviously, there was a little more he should have told Geralt before they came here. 

“Well, I’m afraid we are absolutely knackered; we’ve been riding all day. I’m going to head upstairs…” 

Geralt shoots him a look. 

“I mean,  we are going to head out to the stables and make sure that Geralt’s very polite mare is taken care of.”

“We have someone—”

“No, no, Geralt is very picky about who cares for his horse.”

With that, Jaskier drags Geralt out of the house and to the barn. “I thought the goal was for them to like me?” Geralt asks. 

Jaskier snorts. “Gods, no. The goal is to have them believe that we’re in a relationship, and they would never believe I would choose anyone they actually  liked .”

“Hmm.” 

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Geralt. It’ll be fine. Just stop acting like you’re terrified of me every time I touch you. Maybe we should practice.”

Jaskier gets a gleam in his eye as he darts a glance back to the house, and then his very warm mouth is on Geralt’s. Geralt’s surprised for a second before he relaxes and kisses Jaskier back. He’ll show Jaskier he’s not  terrified of him. Geralt would scoff if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. 

Geralt brings one hand up to rest on Jaskier’s jaw and one to wind through his soft hair. Geralt strokes his thumb over Jaskier’s cheekbone, and Jaskier melts against him, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist and tugging him closer. 

“What was that for?” Geralt says, trying to keep his breathing even after they pull away. 

Jaskier peers around him and looks back up at the house. “Well, they  were  watching through the window. Figured we’d give them a show. Alas.”

Jaskier turns and heads to the stables. Geralt trails behind him, surreptitiously bringing a hand up to his medallion to make sure it’s not vibrating. 

He is in way over his head. 

-

Nell stares at them with wide eyes from her bedroom window. She had...not exactly doubted them when Julian showed up with his witcher in tow, but she hadn’t exactly believed them, either. Who could let Julian trail around after them for years and not get sick of him? 

If she hadn’t witnessed them kissing with her own two eyes, she never would have believed it. She pulls the book out from under the mattress and looks at the songs again, this time with a more critical eye. She can’t believe she didn’t see it before. Especially “Her Sweet Kiss.” She’d never admit it to Julian, but she’s glad he won over whoever this  her  is. He looks happy, in a way that he never did while he was here. 

Her mother calls for her, so Nell sighs and puts away the book. She runs down the stairs. “Yes?”

“I need help with supper.”

Nell sets the table, noting they’re using the fancy silverware, which is a surprise, because her mother has never taken a particular interest of what Julian thinks of her before this, so this is an interesting time to start. She’s sure their meal is going to be a very uncomfortable affair. Well, not for her, unless it starts to become painful to hold her laughter in. 

She can’t wait. 

She’s just finishing arranging the cutlery when her mother turns back to her. “Can you believe Julian? I knew witchers were for hire, but I didn’t think their services extended to...this.”

Nell barely holds back a snort. 

-

Jaskier looks over to Geralt and suppresses a sigh. He had just planted a hand on Geralt’s thigh, and he’s sure his parents think that he just stabbed Geralt, from his reaction. He scoots his chair closer over to Geralt and drapes an arm over his shoulders. “Relax,” he whispers into Geralt’s ear. 

Geralt does, marginally, but Jaskier can still see the doubt on his parent’s faces. 

Jaskier’s father clears his throat. “So, Geralt, um. I suppose we know what you do, but, um. Um.”

“Honestly, haven’t you heard any of my songs? They are all the very true accounts of what Geralt gets up to,” Jaskier butts in. 

Geralt takes a gulp of wine from his goblet to avoid commenting. 

Jaskier notices, and elbows him in the ribs. “Geralt loves my songs, right?”

Jaskier’s parents are staring right at him, and it’s more than a little unnerving. “Right. They’re...very romantic.”

Jaskier’s grip around Geralt’s shoulders tightens. “Thank you, darling.”

Geralt is sure Vesemir once told him witchers can’t blush, but his face feels hot all of a sudden, and everyone is looking at him expectantly. 

Geralt takes another drink. 

Jaskier shakes his head. “Geralt’s been so nervous about meeting all of you. The poor dear is overwhelmed.”

Geralt shoots him a glare, before softening the look into something more akin to convincing Jaskier’s parents that they’re very happily together. Jaskier hastily bolts down the rest of his dinner before he drags Geralt up the stairs and to his room. 

He shuts the door behind them, leaning against and tugging at his hair. “There’s no way they’re buying this,” he moans. 

“I thought I was being rather convincing.”

The corner of Geralt’s lips twitch, so Jaskier hits him with a pillow. “You did not, you brute! Geralt if you’re doing this on purpose—”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt soothes. “I’m not. It’s just. Acting is not exactly on my list of talents.”

Jaskier crosses his arms and huffs. Geralt tugs him over to the bed and makes him sit down, plopping beside him. “What can I do?”

Jaskier throws his arm over his eyes and lays back, rather over dramatically, if you ask Geralt. “Nothi—Well, actually.”

Geralt does not like the sound of that. He was offering more to be nice than anything. 

“We have to have sex.”

Geralt’s mouth goes dry. “What?”

Jaskier scoffs. “This is no time to act the blushing virgin, Geralt,” he says, before his hands are on Geralt’s clothes, tugging them and unbuttoning. 

Geralt jerks back, but Jaskier is already done. “There. Nice and dishevelled.”

Geralt gapes at him for a moment, giving Jaskier the opportunity to muss his hair. Geralt growls.

“I know, I know. That took you hours to accomplish.”

Geralt catches his wrist. “Just, hold on a second. What are we doing?”

“We have to consummate my childhood bed, Geralt,” Jaskier says, completely seriously. “Or at least make my parents think we did.”

Jaskier starts moving his hips on the bed, making the headboard brush up against the wall with every gyration. “Mmm, fuck, Geralt, right there!” he cries.

“ Jaskier!”  Geralt hisses, but Jaskier pays him no mind. 

“You feel so good, darling!” He throws Geralt a wink, and Geralt tries not to combust. 

Jaskier undoes three of the buttons of his doublet, revealing a thicket of chest hair. Geralt casts his eyes to the ceiling. Gods help him. “You know, you don’t have to be so stoic all the time, dear heart. You can let me hear you,” Jaskier says, pointedly prodding at Geralt. 

Geralt shakes his head furiously. This is  not  what he agreed to. 

Jaskier gives Geralt a put on sigh before clearing his throat quietly. “Oh, Jaskier,” he says in a deep voice. 

“That doesn’t even sound like me,” Geralt whispers furiously. 

Jaskier just arches an eyebrow, and Geralt knows that’s a challenge. He swings his leg over Jaskier, straddling him and trying to ignore both of their pounding hearts. It’s the heat of carrying out their plan, Geralt is sure, and not at all Jaskier’s proximity. 

Geralt rocks the bed back and forth, making the headboard  slam against the wall now. 

Gearlt gives a half hearted moan, and Jaskier gives him a glare. “You’re making me sound like a terrible lover who’s left you horribly unfulfilled!” he hisses. 

Geralt rolls his eyes and gives a more enthusiastic moan this time. Geralt begrudgingly keeps this up for a few more minutes before he grunts and clambers off of Jaskier. “A little quick to the finish line?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt shoots him a rude hand gesture. 

Jaskier gasps in mock offense. “Why don’t you go get me a wash rag?” he suggests. 

Geralt glares at him; this is taking the charade much too far, if you ask Geralt, but he follows Jaskier’s direction to the bathroom—where Jaskier’s mother is standing. Geralt suddenly becomes conscious of what a mess he must look like right now, thanks to Jaskier. “Hello again,” Marilla says. 

Geralt grunts and nods to her, before remembering he should probably say something, anything. “Hi.”

Geralt grabs a washcloth and flees. 

When he gets back to Jaskier, Jaskier is sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, scribbling away in his notebook, the inkwell balancing precariously on the mattress. He still has his buttons undone, and Geralt curses himself for even noticing. 

“Did you run into anyone?” Jaskier asks. 

Geralt’s disgruntled expression must be answer enough, because Jaskier rubs his hands together in delight. “Excellent.”

-

Marilla scurries back to her room, completely scandalized. She can’t believe they would...defile her home like this. It’s bad enough that Julian couldn’t choose anyone they suggested for himself, and now he brings home a  witcher ? He’s trying to make her gray even faster. 

She shuts the bedroom door behind her and looks to Ethbert. Her expression must linger on her face, because he asks her, “What?”

“They—” She makes a floppy hand gesture. 

“Are you sure? What would a witcher want with Julian? There’s something not right about this.”

Marilla fans herself. “I know. They’re not even wed. It’s impropriety, is what it is.”

Ethbert squints doubtfully. 

-

Geralt is not a morning person. When Jaskier first discovered this, he was puzzled. Geralt is the only person who dictates his schedule, so no one would yell at  him  if he chose to sleep until midday. 

The more Jaskier thinks about it, though, the more it makes sense. Of course Geralt would wake up at the asscrack of dawn; he probably thinks of it as a punishment or some other such self loathing nonsense. 

It’s certainly more of a punishment for Jaskier, because he’s the one that has to put up with Geralt’s bearish attitude every morning. 

Geralt blinks awake and squints at the rising sun like it’s personally offended him, and Jaskier closes his eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. 

“Morning,” Geralt grates out. 

Jaskier’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Good morning.”

“I know you weren’t asleep,” Geralt says, sounding annoyed. “You could have woken me up.”

“Mm. And deal with a grumpy witcher first thing in the morning? I don’t think so.”

Geralt scoffs. “I’m not grumpy.”

“Right.”

Geralt swings his legs out of the bed and begins getting dressed. Jaskier stretches into the warmth Geralt left behind, tugging the blankets up over him. 

What? He never said  he was a morning person, either. “Where are you going?”

“Into town.”

“For what? Do you need things for potions? I’ll go with you.”

“No, no, I’m just going to see if there’s any contracts; you stay here.”

Jaskier gives a sly grin. “Does my family make you nervous?”

“ No .”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says. 

“Shut up.”

“Well, don’t go gallivanting off without telling me where. You know I worry.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “No need.”

Jaskier adopts a high pitched voice. “Why, thank you, Jaskier, my dearest friend. I’m so touched to know someone is looking out for me.”

“It’s pretty sad if you have to imagine someone to be your friend.”

Jaskier splutters as Geralt walks out of the room, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Jaskier sighs as the door shuts behind him, wanting to bundle himself back in the blankets and Geralt’s scent, but he resists the urge and stumbles out of bed to pull on his clothes. 

He makes it down the stairs and to the kitchen, picking up a bowl of eggs and whisking them, the need to be helpful overriding his desire to collapse in a chair and go back to sleep. 

“Good morning, Julian,” his mother says stiffly. “Where’s your beau?”

Jaskier lets himself smile at the image of Geralt’s reaction to being heard of himself referred to as Jaskier’s  beau . 

“He’s out looking for a contract. He’ll be back for lunch, I’m sure.” 

He gives his mother a bright grin. He thinks he should have made Geralt suck a hickey on his neck, but, to be honest, he’s not sure if he could have beared that. Geralt had already been so unbearably close to Jaskier when he  straddled  him. Jaskier’s not sure what had possessed Geralt to do that, all the while expecting Jaskier to keep his hands to himself. 

He’s not sure Geralt’s looked in a mirror anytime in the past fifty years because of the whole monster-staring-back-at-him thing (complete horse shit, in Jaskier’s humble opinion, not that Geralt cares to listen to it), but Jaskier is forced to look at him every day, and he suffers. 

He suffers every time he trails behind Geralt atop Roach, watching the subtle shift of his back muscles as he rides, and he’s devastated when Geralt deems Roach too tired to carry him and leads her in his tight leather pants. If Geralt hadn’t been wearing just such a thing when Jaskier met him, Jaskier would be convinced Geralt does it just to personally spite Jaskier. 

To doom him to look but not touch for the rest of his life. As such, he had never expected Geralt to actually agree to this whole charade. But, he did, and now here they are. Here they are, with Jaskier knowing exactly what Geralt tastes like (less onion than one would expect), but still having to not just kiss the blank looks Geralt likes to give him right off his face. 

It’s enough to drive a man mad. 

-

Geralt looks at the pitiful notice board and sighs. He tugs down the one prospect to examine it more closely. Something is stealing a farmer’s sheep. There’s a few possibilities for what it could be, ranging from minor nuisances to things that he shouldn’t even mention to Jaskier because he’ll nag at Geralt until he lets him tag along, and those are always the kind of jobs that Jaskier should be nowhere near. 

Geralt’s not sure how someone with the survival instinct of a fly larva is still alive, especially when he insists on following Geralt around, but Geralt’s not going to let Jaskier get hurt on his watch. 

Geralt pockets the notice and goes to talk to the farmer who set the contract, but he has very little useful information to tell Geralt. All he offers is that the sheep have been disappearing without a trace. Geralt walks the edges of the property and a bit into the woods, doing a cursory inspection for the carcasses, but he doesn’t find them, either. 

Hmm. 

Geralt turns and heads back to Jaskier. 

-

Geralt’s acting out of sorts when he returns from town, so Jaskier tugs him aside. “What’s wrong?”

Geralt just grunts and shakes his head. 

Jaskier sighs. Typical. “Weren’t there any contracts?”

“There were, just—I don’t know what it is. But I’m sure it will be fine.”

Geralt even tries to give him a bracing smile, and even though it looks more like a grimace, Jaskier knows it’s not good if Geralt has stooped to trying to comfort him. 

Jaskier hums at him and leads him to the table where his family are waiting on them for lunch. Jaskier keeps a hand on Geralt’s knee, because he’s allowed to, at the moment. 

He delights in watching Geralt make awkward conversation with Nell, but it seems like they’re quickly warming up to each other. Jaskier’s mouth goes dry at the thought of them teaming up on him. They would truly be a menace. 

Jaskier’s mood is quickly soured when they finish eating and Geralt insists on heading back out. 

“Shouldn’t you wait until the morning? You know, be well rested?”

Geralt shrugs. “It’s been taking the animals at night. Better chance of finding it if I go now.”

“Geralt, we’re not exactly short on coin right now. Why even go?”

“If I don’t take care of this, who will?” Geralt huffs. “This farmer’s livelihood is at risk.”

Jaskier grins. “Geralt, you unbearable softie. You make me look callous.”

Jaskier darts a glance over to his family, who are pretending not to watch them. He takes that as license to tug Geralt in for a chaste kiss. Geralt stiffens against him, and Jaskier is just about ready to pull away, before Geralt starts kissing him back. He makes it  decidedly  less chaste, and Jaskier puts a hand on his chest. He lets himself savor it for one, two, three seconds before he takes a step back. 

“Geralt, there are children present!” he says in a scandalized tone, grinning at Nell. 

She glares, and he shoots her a wink. 

Geralt clears his throat, and Jaskier jerks his attention back to him. “Right. Well, if I’m not going to talk you out of it, be safe.”

“I always am.”

-

Ethbert watches as Julian paces back and forth as he waits for the witcher to return. “Sit down,” he says gruffly. 

Julian looks at the clock, then out the window, completely ignoring him. Ethbert snorts. Good to know nothing’s changed, then. 

“Surely it can’t take this long to murder one measly little thing,” Julian mutters. 

“He’s fine,” Ethbert says. “It’d take a lot to overpower a witcher, right?”

Jaskier sits down in a huff, and Ethbert starts to wonder if maybe their relationship is less of a farce than he thought. It’s certainly an odd one, and he’s still clueless as to what they could possibly have in common, but Julian is painting a convincing picture right now, especially as he tugs his cloak off the hook and settles it around his shoulders. 

“Where are you going?”

“To find him!”

Ethbert jerks out of his seat with a splutter. “You can’t be serious. You think you’re going to be able to handle whatever a witcher couldn’t?”

Julian pauses. “Well, no. He’s probably lying in a ditch somewhere, slowly bleeding to death. Oh gods, what if he’s out there bleeding to death?”

Julian becomes even more frantic and rushes out the door and to the stables. 

Ethbert resigns himself to a long night. 

-

Jaskier clambers onto one of the smaller mares. He doesn’t have the patience to go through the whole process of putting all the tack on, so he clings to the horse’s neck and prays he doesn’t fall off. He digs into her with his knees, and away they go. 

Jaskier has no idea which way Geralt went, but there’s some fairly fresh hoof tracks in the wet dirt of the road, so he follows them and hopes they’re Roach’s. Eventually, they go off the road, and Jaskier is left to squint at trampled grass. He wonders if Geralt would be proud of his tracking abilities, and he smiles thinking about the inevitable jab. Jaskier would respond with something about how Geralt was no better than a dog sniffing the air, and all would be well.

But first, he has to find him. Jaskier slows the horse to a walk as the trail becomes fainter, squinting as he looks at the ground. He comes to an outcrop of rocks with an opening just big enough to go inside, and he dismounts his horse cautiously. He certainly doesn’t want to deal with whatever calls this place its home. 

Jaskier notices blood, and his heart kicks up a notch. It’s a rust red color, so it’s not very recent. Jaskier follows the splatters, and as he goes, they get brighter and brighter, until Jaskier’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest with the panicked tap dance it’s doing. 

It certainly doesn’t help matters when he finds Roach wandering through the woods by herself. “Where’s Geralt?” he asks, and she snorts at him helpfully. 

Jaskier casts a look at the blood glistening under the leaves underfoot and knows Geralt has to be close. Roach gives an agitated whinny before she turns and trots off, and Jaskier rushes after her. 

In the end, Geralt’s not all that far away. Jaskier sees his hair before he sees anything else, and then he’s sprinting over to him with little thought for anything else. Jaskier drops to his knees beside Geralt. He looks paler than normal, even though Jaskier hadn’t known that was possible 

There’s so much blood, and he’s not moving. Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Geralt? Geralt?” he asks, his voice getting louder and more panicked. “Geralt?”

Jaskier resists the urge to shake him and jostle whatever injuries he has, but there’s bile rising in his throat, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do—

His eyes latch on to the infinitesimal rise of Geralt’s chest, and the pressure on his own suddenly lifts. He shuts his eyes for a moment. Geralt isn’t dead, and he can work with that. 

Jaskier takes a closer look at Geralt and finds there’s a chunk missing from his side. It’s still bleeding freely, and Jaskier tries to resist the urge to be sick. He works Geralt free of his armor with shaky hands, so he can take a closer look. 

Geralt moans and starts to stir, and Jaskier plants his hands on Geralt’s chest. “Just stay still; you’re going to be fine.”

“Jask?” Geralt slurs. 

“Yes, yes, it’s me, and you know I’m far too stubborn to let you die.”

“My pack—”

Jaskier could slap himself for not thinking of that. “Right. Um, your potions.” 

He whistles for Roach, and she approaches skittishly. Jaskier glances back down at Geralt, and his eyes are slipping shut. Jaskier tightens his grip on Geralt’s shoulder. “Geralt! You have to stay awake. Do you hear me?”

Geralt murmurs something Jaskier doesn’t quite catch, but his eyes open wider. Geralt’s pupils are so dilated, there’s barely a ring of yellow left around the outsides. Jaskier clambers up to look through Roach’s saddlebags, and his heart clenches when Geralt’s hand comes up to clutch at him as he moves away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he soothes. 

He rustles through the saddlebag. “Fuck, Geralt, do you really need so many tiny bottles?”

Geralt gives him a weak chuckle before he hisses in pain. 

“Which one do you need?” Jaskier asks, hoping Geralt is coherent enough that he’s not about to poison himself. 

Jaskier pulls the pouch out of the saddle bag to show him the options. Geralt points to a few, and Jaskier eyes them doubtfully. He uncorks them anyway, sitting back down and settling Geralt’s head into his lap, helping him get the elixirs down, even when Geralt tries to bat his hands away. 

“Save your energy for something useful, would you?” Jaskier tuts. 

Jaskier prods at the wound in Geralt’s side, jerking his hand back when Geralt winces. “I forgot just how delicate you were, my apologies.”

Geralt barely manages a huff at that, and Jaskier furrows his brows in worry. He pulls Geralt’s shirt away from the wound, biting his lip as it pulls skin away. The wound looks a sickly green underneath all the blood, and Jaskier gasps a little. This is much worse than he thought. 

“Geralt, it’s—Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes have slipped shut, and Jaskier scrabbles at him, trying to make him wake up again, but he stays stubbornly still. The only thing giving Jaskier even a tiny glimmer of peace is that his chest is still rising and falling. 

Tears are threatening to burst to Jaskier’s eyes, but he pushes them down and takes a deep breath. Somehow, he manages to heave Geralt across Roach. Roach snorts, disgruntled, and Jaskier runs a hand over her flank, trying to soothe her. 

He looks around, but he has no idea where the mare he rode out here went. Oops. Hopefully it will wander back to his parent’s estate, but if not, well, will they even miss it?

Jaskier gathers Roach’s reins in his hand and leads her back towards town at a steady trot. 

-

When Geralt comes to, he’s sweltering. He seems to be in a tomb of blankets, and the fire is roaring in the corner of the room. The room? He’s not quite sure how he got here; he would have expected to be lying on the cold ground instead of a soft and yielding bed. There’s even less lumps than he’s accustomed to.

He groans when he tries to move, and there’s a rustling from beside him. Geralt looks over to see Jaskier jerking from his chair to fuss over him. Jaskier’s eyes are red when he finally looks up.

“You promised me you were going to be safe, you terror,” Jaskier sniffs. 

Geralt doesn’t have his wits about him enough yet to be dealing with crying bards. “Hmm.”

“Geralt, you—What was it?”

“A cockatrice. It got me with its tail; spit a little poison at me just for fun.”

Jaskier shakes his head. “You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the ass.”

This makes Geralt look even grumpier, if possible. Jaskier’s glad; he much prefers that to the slack expression Geralt had had while he was sleeping, and Jaskier was terrified he wouldn’t wake up. 

Jaskier looks back at him, and Geralt can’t help himself when he reaches out to swipe away Jaskier’s tears with his thumb. “I’m fine,” he murmurs. 

Geralt tosses the covers off himself so he can see his wound. It’s wrapped rather nicely, and when Geralt pokes at it, it feels like there’s some kind of poultice under the bandages. He raises his eyebrows at Jaskier, waiting for an explanation. 

“A healer.”

Geralt’s surprised Jaskier found someone who would treat him; most people aren’t too keen on helping witchers. 

“I yelled at him until he helped you,” Jaskier admits. 

Geralt huffs a laugh. “I’m sure he was terrified.”

Jaskier finally cracks a grin. “Hey, you’re not the only scary one around here.”

Jaskier’s eyes drop to his hand, the one that was just on his face, and fuck, what was Geralt even thinking, but Jaskier reaches out and puts his hand over Geralt’s. 

“I was worried,” he says softly. And then, sharper, “Don’t you dare say  hmm .”

“Hmm.”

Geralt laughs, and there’s a warmth that settles in his chest when Jaskier does the same. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Jaskier finally says. 

There’s a lengthy silence, and when Geralt looks up, Jaskier is staring back at him.  

“You got the trophy, right?” 

“Geralt, my ears must be deceiving me. You cannot possibly be worried about that right now.”

“How else am I going to get paid? Last time I checked, you liked to eat. It needs done before something else drags the carcass away.”

Jaskier sighs and huffs and does everything short of stomping his feet before he gathers his cloak from the back of his chair. He glares at Geralt before he slams the door shut behind him. 

Geralt rubs a shaky hand down his face. 

He’s an idiot. 

-

Jaskier grumbles to himself as he makes his way back out into the chilly night. His advances are obviously unwelcome, if this is the kind of punishment Geralt is doling out to him. Well, that’s fine. Jaskier will just let him bleed out next time. 

Okay, he won’t, but that doesn’t mean he won’t consider it for a few seconds. 

Stupid emotionally repressed witchers. He can’t say he wasn’t hoping something would happen with Geralt while they were here, but he should have known better. 

Jaskier trudges all the way back to near where he found Geralt, pointedly not looking at the blood stain on the grass.  He’s fine , he reminds himself. Jaskier pokes around for a little bit until he remembers the cave he had seen earlier and some vague knowledge that cockatrices prefer them. 

He’s half expecting another to show up as he plucks some feathers and cuts off the head, for good measure. He almost gags as his knife goes roughly through the bone and sinew, but he manages to keep his supper. He looks around for any last creatures that are just waiting to murder him, but none appear. 

He sighs and makes the trek back. 

When he arrives, Geralt is sitting at the table, talking to his family, and Jaskier wonders for a moment if he should be concerned about a doppler. Nell is eating up every word Geralt says, and Jaskier hopes she has pried some good stories out of him that Jaskier can repurpose as songs later. 

For now, he swings the cockatrice head up onto the table, and silence falls. “There you go, love,” he says cheerfully. 

Geralt is looking back at him with a peculiar expression, and he rises from his chair stiffly. Jaskier rushes over to him to help, and Geralt reluctantly drapes an arm over his shoulder. Geralt leads him to the bathroom, and Jaskier makes sure to say loudly enough for the rest of his family to hear, “Well, if you needed help holding it you only had to ask.”

Geralt huffs in exasperation and shuts the door behind him. Jaskier raises his eyebrows in question. “Did you actually need help, or…” Jaskier trails off, and then Geralt’s lips are on his, warm and hungry, and anymore of Jaskier’s thoughts fly out of his brain. 

His arms automatically come up to wrap around Geralt’s waist, until he registers that this is  Geralt , and he puts a hand on his chest. “Um. Do you need your head checked out, as well? I thought it was your side, but I can go get the healer again.”

“I’m fine,” Geralt growls. 

Jaskier’s not convinced Geralt hasn’t sustained a lasting brain injury, but then Geralt is saying, “I should have done this a long time ago,” and kissing him again. 

What is Jaskier to do but kiss him back? It’d be terribly impolite not to, after all. When Geralt finally pulls away, Jaskier asks breathlessly, “What was that for?”

Geralt shrugs, considering. “You looked kind of hot carrying that cockatrice head. The trachea hanging down really got me going.”

Jaskier stares at him in disbelief for a beat before they both dissolve into laughter. 

“You’re an idiot,” Jaskier says. “You’re  my idiot.”

-

Ethbert looks across the table, where what his son is doing can only be called  terrorizing  his witcher, and harrumphs to himself. This is not exactly who he pictured Julian ending up with, to say the least. 

He wonders the etiquette for having a son in law older than he is. He supposes he’s going to have to find out. 

[asstrolo]

a lil tarot love reading for the signs on this V-Day

very little, almost minuscule; this is not necessary romantic and it focuses on the energy that Valentine’s Day lefts on the signs for the next few weeks

check sun/moon/rising/VENUS, i also recommend stellium and dominant signs!

aries: if you’ve been dealing with past emotions for a while maybe this Valentine’s Day made you want or forced you to move on, or you’ve been trying hard to do so, the journey is long and never linear, but this could have been blocking NEW things, so work hard on the present these next weeks, i see the most important thing here is the money and a new-found independency that’ll be so good for you, you’ve been blocking your own blessing for something that is past, so now remember that what’s past is past, the future, even the prersent m,oment looks promising, cause good things will come if you put your focus in the present time, or even in the future

taurus: have you been feeling emotionally drained or restricted? your feelings are all over the place, in the past maybe someone betrayed your trust or you gave a manipulative person too much control over your life, now you feel super drained and tired, don’t feel like arguing or fighting anymore, if this is about a person then you’re done or too tired to deal with them and the repercussions, don’t worry, this was maybe a good decision and you’re going to focus on more IMPORTANT things, maybe self-love or doing things that de-stress you and give you joy, that’s very needed, take care of yourself mentally, physically and ✨ aesthetically ✨

gemini: there’s something here you wanted to happen so bad, maybe related to a person and you had very high expectations on this situation, almost too high, unrealistic, the situation was not met how you wanted it to, maybe you were too impulsive on your decisions, or trusting someone, you might have been lied to and this is why things didn’t went how you expected them to, but, if the truth hasn’t come out yet, it will very soon in this mercury rx, you are about to be shocked, if it already happened it was super quick almost unexpectedly, don’t beat yourself up for trusting this person, it’s ok, the truth about something is about to come out for everyone to know, they might get what they deserve

cancer: okay there was, or still is a situation that has you very dependent on something, you can’t be free, you feel very emotionally tied to a result or to a person and this has made you to lose countless days thinking of them and the outcome of something, while you still want to do your work and act like nothing happened, you can’t, you’re trying to juggle and balance a lot of things right now and it’s not good for your mental health, you feel defeated and like you lost something very important to you, don’t go around pretending you didn’t, if you wanna get over this then you have to acknowledge it

leo: if you’ve been hurting or in a bad emotional state right now, you’re using drugs, alcohol, food, sex, etc, to make you feel better and you know this, you know you’re just distracting yourself from thinking of something, if you know this, you ALSO know that it’s not working, maybe for a little bit, but you always come back tot he same mindset, don’t worry tho, if you’re aware of your bad habits and addictions then you know that you must change them, somebody hurted you really badly in the past or very recently, and you just can’t forget about them or the feeling and the pain, it’s time to see the bigger picture, have more self-love, look inward to why you do what you do and how it affects your mental health and emotional health, so many good things will come if you do the job!

virgo: for you there might have been an abrupt change that did a very significant change on you and your surroundings, it could be this overwhelming transformation or you’re just not welcoming this change, change it’s necessary guys! you must let things go with the flow and don’t try to control everything, there’s a chance for unity and communication here, if you have a person then you MUST let these fears go, you can’t control what’s gonna happen, take a risk, i know you wanna take care of your emotions and not getting hurted, but this looks good, even your friends might be supporting this new relationship or the person you like is a really close friend, that’s why you’re so scared things might not work out, but why fear something that hasn’t happened? enjoy the present moment

libra: there’s a situation here for a few of you, maybe you left someone else in the cold or they left you, maybe you’re going to apologize to someone or this person is coming with an apology of how things ended, but, if this last one’s the case, by the time this person comes you’ll be over it! the apology will not be needed, you have founded inner peace and moving on from this to a more positive place, it’s your choice to accept or not said apology, you’ll have new-found strength after this, since in the past you felt very stagnant and like there was no moving forward, like you were stuck in this thought and this situation most of the time, please don’t lose hope if this is the case! you’ll rely more on yourself now than in other’s so you’ll be more confident

scorpio: this is a complicated situation you are, o were in, there’s something you did out of impulse that now, thinking of it, you regret it greatly, maybe you got mad and said things you didn’t meant to, now you can’t rest because of this, you have all that’s necessary to fix or move on from this situation yet you’re lacking better judgement or other point of view, there’s something bad that’s gonna happen if you don’t sit down and talk this out, or reflect on the past, don’t get anxious, don’t blame yourself for everything, be rational, look for a second opinion if needed, you need to rethink your steps before moving forward, if you do this, the hard work you’ve been doing to keep this connection or to keep your mental health..., well, healthy, will not be in vain, look inwards, don’t criticize yourself so much, after all you’re just human 

sagittarius: this one is a lot, if you’ve been pursuing a goal it probably did not come to fruition, it’s most likely you gave away all your time and energy into something that didn’t gave you anything in return so you were left tired and with no accomplishments, this can be because you’ve been working too hard and haven’t been taking care of your mental health, it’s at risk of becoming your main problem, if it isn’t already, there’s a lot of self-doubt and self-hate even, if something did not turned out how you wanted it to, beating yourself for it it’s not gonna help anyone, not you, not your future projects, you need a BREAK, you need to breath and stop trying to do everything all at once, especially if you have depression please rest, you’re too stressed right now 

capricorn: you’ve been pursuing something that, at first, seemed to give good results and motivated you to keep going, but maybe you were using this thing to distract yourself from something else? sooner than later something or a connection with someone started to go south, maybe even unexpectedly because you are going through something you haven’t told anybody or you haven’t told your person about it and this makes the relationship feels stuck or weird, you’re going through a transformation, a test, a change, and you don’t want to see that this person or situation are changing you whole, accept that change it’s good, you’ve been lacking a lot of self-confidence and you might even think they don’t want you the same way you do, but this is why communication is important! don’t let your fears rule over you, you’re worthy of love, talk to them, a surpise might occur

aquarius: you’ve been too stuck in your own ways, your way is the only right one, you’ve been kinda selfish and even unreliable in work, friendships or in a relationship, maybe this is a way of protecting yourself from hurting, but it feels very defensive, you’re not telling the truth about your feelings or your situation, trying to act tough can only work for so long, if you have something to say or feelings you wanna talk about do it, don’t get mad and act indifferent, it won’t help you at all, if there’s a person or a situation in work/self, you don’t know what to do, all the decisions look bad, but you have to choose either way, to stay or to go, to talk or to be silent, but choose one, this maybe has more to do with a person and a relationship, but it can also be with yourself, happiness and celebration will come if you TRULY talk about what’s on your mind to them, don’t be scared!

pisces: okay, there’s a situation that made you back down and retire from socializing for awhile, there was something you were fighting for, but as of now, honestly? you kind of left it there, maybe you’re looking for a more peaceful solution or approach, or you’re not doing anything about it at all, like you stopped fighting for that thing and you’ve been trying to focus on other things, maybe this situation will solve itself out, or it was the one that is making you feel so small right now, like it took away a lot of your confidence, but you’re on your way to taking that back, being alone seems like the only way of healing from this situation right now, good for you! if a situation was making you feel bad or like you needed to fight to be with that person, then it wasn’t worth it

ROLES CAN BE REVERSED. Take what resonates and if it doesn’t don’t come @ me please. 

REBLOG SO IT GETS TO MORE PEOPLE PLSS!!!

[shewastheheart]

A/N: Set shortly after the events of Breaking Dawn: Part Two. 

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

He knows she must have heard him coming from miles away, his footsteps racing across the forest floors until he followed her scent to one of the many trees decorating the woods - not an uncommon haven for his wife both in this life and the last. Esme still does him the courtesy of looking down from the tree branch she sits perched in, trying and failing to offer him a soft smile. 

Carlisle tilts his head in askance, but her chest merely rises and falls with a quiet sigh. He takes that as acceptance to join her, rising from the ground to the limb fifty feet above in an instant.

She shifts ever so slightly to give him room beside her and Carlisle gladly takes the space between his wife and the tree trunk.

“Love?” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Something has been off with her for days now, ever since the battle. But he hasn’t quite managed to figure out what, especially not when they emerged from the conflict with the Volturi victorious. 

“Alice told me,” she responds, her voice only loud enough for him to hear. 

It takes him a moment to understand what she means. 

“The vision?” he realizes aloud.

Esme nods, curling her knees in close to her chest, arms cinching tight around her legs. She looks out into the grey skies, the frown carved deep into her skin.

“Your death, Carlisle.”

His brow furrows. “But, Esme, it... it didn’t happen.”

“This time,” she whispers, chin to her patella. “Look, I know we made it through the danger of these last few years, but it just made me consider - I can’t carry on if you’re gone. I won’t.”

The words leave him silent for a moment too long.

“You’re it for me, you know that,” she continues, looking at him clearly for the first time. Her eyes are intent on his, her lips pursed. “When I came back from... from my own death, I thought - I thought I was in heaven when I saw you.” She shakes her head, mouth quirking with the hint of a smile. “Beyond the thirst burning in my throat and the shock of waking up at all, I just... I saw you and knew I was where I belonged.”

“You know it was the same for me,” he breathes, reaching out to cup the nape of her neck in his palm, stroking the fine hairs at the base of her scalp with his thumb. 

He can still recall the first day he saw her, sixteen years old with bright eyes and a spark that tugged her lips into a grin even as he tended to her broken leg. He remembers the phantom jolt of his still heart, the rush of guilt for even thinking it, for looking at a child that way. But, as Esme liked to remind him, it was not so terrible of an age difference, if one considered him twenty-three. And not in his late two hundreds.

He failed to stop thinking of her for the decade that followed, up until the day he found her broken body in the morgue. He will never truly trust that his reasons for changing her were without bias, not when he felt as if his entire world were shattering when he saw her on the metal slab with her heartbeat dying slow.

She was the end for him, the beginning at the same time. 

“I cannot fault you for it,” he adds, clearing his throat and letting his hand travel to her shoulder to tug her closer. 

She comes willingly, knees turning into curl against his ribcage, cheek coming to rest against his chest. Her lashes dust his jawbone and his momentarily fall closed. There are moments that he savors their eternity together and there are others that make him wish for their peaceful ending. 

“I would let the vision come true if I lost you.”

Esme tenses in his arms, but he only holds her tighter. 

“Carlisle, you are too necessary to this world, to our children. They need you, they-”

“I’ve made it my mission to atone for my sins, to betray every baser instinct of this form, to be as selfless as possible in this life. To be better,” he murmurs, feeling so utterly weary even as he says it. “But this, this is the one thing I allow myself to be selfish about.”

Carlisle glances down to meet her gaze, those beautiful, sorrowful eyes swirling with gold and staring up at him. 

“I love you,” she sighs, hooking her fingers in the neck of his sweater. “Too much. I’m far more selfish than you are, could ever be. I won’t compromise, I won’t... stay without you.”

“I won’t ask you to,” he replies, dipping his chin to press a kiss to the fingers toying with his collar. “Hopefully, this conversation will remain solely hypothetical, but no matter the circumstance, I will be with you. Until the end.”

“It ends with us,” Esme concedes, dropping all pretenses of bargaining further and lifting her head to find his lips. 

Carlisle sighs into the sure press of her mouth, the warm heat of her breath as she shifts into his lap. Her fingers sift through his hair, arms following to lace around his neck. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself,” he mumbles, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. “About Alice’s vision. I’ve been trying to put it out of my own mind and I didn’t want... I knew it would hurt you.”

Esme nods, leaning into the cradle of his palm at her jaw. “There’s nothing to forgive. But you are welcome to repent, if it would make you feel better.”

He glances up to see the hitch of her brow, the smirk of her lips. 

And it hits him again, how he understands exactly what she means, what she fears, because no, there would be nothing left for him. Not without her. 

In a breath, he has her back pinned to the width of the tree trunk, her smile falling apart beneath the nip of his teeth and the sound of her laughter twining through his senses.

For now, he embraces the idea of an eternity left with her.