#sixth floor the hunting grounds

[mongo-the-liensis]

Carl about to blow up Xindy

[huicitawrites]

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O' Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

T/W: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spiderverse.

Status: rewritten.

Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,4k

"Y/N! Get. Back. Here. NOW", swinging away from an infuriated Miguel O'Hara wasn't something you had planned or ever thought would occur, never entertained the thought of it. At least not until now, as you desperately attempted to get away from him and somehow escape him- for your dimension-travel watch (as wild as the concept of it sounded) had been snatched by the same man that was madly hunting you down.

How did it even all come to this? Let's rewind, back to the beginning.

Part I

After being bitten by a radioactive spider in a school trip to Alchemax at the young age of 15, you obtained enhanced spider-like abilities: a sixth sense for perceiving danger, incredible reflexes, amazing parkour skills, extraordinary strentgh and flexibility.

And for the past ten years, you have been New York's one and only Spider-Woman.

Learning to use your powers was a whole trip on itself. They awakened rather clumsily -nothing a leap of faith could not fix- as you began to grasp the ropes of being a masked hero in your teenage years [it's safe to say that your teenage years were truly a heck of a rollercoaster].

Handling a double-life was not easy, that is something you have learned with your ten years experience. You saved a bunch of people and thus many lives, you won many times and saved the city countless more. Yet you also earned a bunch of dangerous criminals and villains tailing behind your back that would want to kill you without hesitation and harm you in any way possible.

In spite of the times you were beaten down, left made a mess in the ground, or at the brink of death- you would always get back up because you were Spider-Woman.

Sometimes, getting back up was hard.

The weight of the sake of the city was on your shoulders. And sometimes, that weight crushed you. When you lost your parents it was devastating, because not only had you failed as a hero, but as a daughter.

[Your dad perished in an attempt to save you from an attack of one of many enemies- the Green Goblin . You two happened to be on a ‘father and daughter’ outing in a nice dinner when the Green Goblin tried to draw out Spider-Woman from her hiding place in Brooklyn (unbeknownst of your true identity and much to your own misery and guilt.) After battling the Green Goblin and imprisoning him, you rose with your dead father in your arms, and an huge crack in your heart that would leave a deep scar.

Months later, your mother's followed suit. That day was chaotic, panic filled the streets of New York as The Rhino, a veteran soldier with super human strentgh and a high-techno advanced armor resembling a rhinoceros, laid waste to the city. You were evacuating all civilians nearby, swinging across and into buildings, picking up and scooping anyone you could encounter and putting them out of danger.

It happened as you held falling debris with your arms. You picked up wailing in between the many cries of people, and your spider-sense guided your eyes up from the ground.

A child, no older than five, was crying. He was glued to the floor, too overwhelmed by the calamity surrounding him. A wall from a building was falling on him and your heart beat raced. You still had people below you that were crawling out and the child was a or two block away. Your thoughts raced in your head, you had to save everyone, down to the last live.

"Come on, come on, come on" you muttered in between gritted teeth as you gathered power and lifted the debris into the air. With the help of your web shooter, you pulled all the remaining civilians out and casted aside the courtesy of double-checking as you swinged toward the child.

You could see how the wall fell over him, and you reached out your arm with your forearm out desperately, attempted to pull him out with your web but the wall was already about to touch his head and-

She pushed the child out of the danger, motherly instincts impulsing her feet at the cost of her own life. The child was pushed onto you and you brought him flush against you with your web, arms encasing him as you witnessed the wall collapse on her.

In shock and disbelief, you gently lowered the child to the ground and ran to the fallen wall. Once again in despair, you clawed through the debris and searched for your mother’s body.

You found her bruised and crushed, her face deformed. You brushed the dust off it. Her pained groan was faint, and you begged her right there and then not to leave you. Not to leave you alone, again.

“Is the kid al…?”

“Yes! Don’t, don’t talk. Help, help is coming. You have to stay, you have to.” But her eyes were already fading, and her limbs growing weak. Your disguised hand snatched up hers and you cried,

“Mom!”

She recognized your voice, the one she cherished the most. Her fading eyes gathered all the warmth they could muster and she reached out a quivering hand to your cheek. Her fingers slid into your mask, and she felt your tear stained skin.

“Ah my baby…[Y/n]…I’m so proud... Your father would be so proud... keep it up”. Her last words were voiced with strain, but you would always remember them.]

They became the fuel for your mission, and no matter how many times you were beaten to the ground and wounded to no end, you stood back up. You would save everyone else, no more deaths, you swore upon your parents' last moments.

Now in your adult life, you found yourself in a stable life besides the implications your side hustle not-so-side -hustle brought. You had an adequate job as a writer for small titles in a decent newspaper, and you had a department you shared with your childhood best friend, Peter Parker [who eventually became your tech-desk guy. Hiding your true identity from your best friend and roommate would have never lasted long anyway. You remember clearly the day you climbed into the living's window, beat up, bruised and tired, when the lights suddenly turned on and a Peter with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised was waiting for you like a parent whose child was past curfew. You were without your mask on. Nonetheless, after stuttering uncontrollably and failing to explain and just simply breaking down in front of him. Without saying any words, he took out the first aid kit and reassured you with a smile. You were so grateful to him.]

So now here you were, crouching on the top of The Clock Tower, the moonlight casting its light on your back and darkening your silhouette. Earlier in the day you dealt with some thugs and minor crimes, but since the sun fell nothing happened. That was odd, NYC was never quite, least of all times at night.

But your spider-sense was running, not rampant, but definetely there like annoying itch on the nape. Something had to be off, you knew it.

"Um, I'm not picking up anything, (Y/n). Maybe you should be calling it a night, you've been doing good work so far. You did lower the crime rate, after all."

"You sure Pete? There's this feeling in my gut and-"

"Your 'spidey- thingy' ?".

"Spider-sense, spidey-thingy sounds dumb" you answered with a small groan, rolling your eyes although he could not see the.

He chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he turned serious " but I'm not getting anything from anywhere. From police radios and stations to our own hidden cameras"

"Nothing? Sure?"

"I mean everything is awfully quiet now that I think about it... All I can pick up is glitching, let's see... let me do my thing and-" you could hear frantic typing through the comms of your suit within the mask, you could even picture Peter hunching and fixing his eyeglasses.

What he said left you pondering. Glitching? It couldn't be a coincidence that all the radio signals he could pick up were glitching.

"Aha! Here it is, your spidey-thingy was right." this time, you chuckled as if saying 'see?'. He continued, "-this should be a very hidden signal from the special forces team. Seems classified, man they should really put a little more money into whatever software they use to protect their privacy" and he pushed on one final 'enter', the glitching and static got louder almost startling you to which your friend apologized softly, but it evened out.

"Report the situation, Lieutenant Stacy"

"Requesting back-up right now, suspect is armed with advanced equipment, we are at the Port, South East, many of my men and women have been wounded and- oh, shit, shit" The man's words died down with the sound of something big crashing and breaking.

Well, that's your cue. You stood up on your toes and balanced you body weight forward, diving to the ground. With your limbs extended, you stretched your forearm and extended your wrist, web shooting out from the slick web shooter Peter designed.

Swinging from building to building under the night sky, you jumped across billboards and slid past tight spaces as you were heading to the location of the conflict, and the closer you swinged, the wilder your spider sense got.

When you arrived at the port, you saw a SWAT truck that was flipped over, it had a huge dent in the form of a what seemed to be a claw mark, and the windows had been broken. There were a few members on the floor, and you noticed there were two trying to lift the heavy vehicle.

"Let me help," you announced your presence and they whipped their heads. Their faces were glistening with sweat and dirt, and you could notice their equipment was damaged. You crouched and lifted the truck, there was one member there below, and his leg was twisted the other way, but he was breathing- well, panting.

Without further a do, the soldiers went and dragged out their friend. A soldier's face lit up, though they seemed hesitant [after all, your line of work was kind of controversial among the government and its forces] but they were thankful. "Thank you, Spider-Woman", their voice was genuine and you smiled below the mask.

"Your welcome, leave it to me" winking at them through your lense, you nodded and propelled yourself to the ceiling of the warehouse. You noticed a roof canopy at the center, lucky you, and brought the palm of your hand to it. Utilizing your sticky finger pads, you carefully removed a pane of glass and entered the building without making a sound.

"Be careful, please" Peter voiced with worry.

You hanged the web from it's strongest point at the peak, and slowly lowered yourself down until your hand gently brushed the cold floor . You got off the web and crawled in direction of the tingling of the spider-sense. You found some warehouse crates, pressed your back onto them, slowly leaning your head out to take a peak.

A man stood there, a middle aged man by the looks of him. He had a round pair of black sunglasses on and a large leather coat on, but the most outstanding feature was apparently behind him. Four metal tentacle-like arms sprouting from his back, with threatening looking claws. That had to be the thing that put such a dent in a SWAT vehicle, the advanced equipment you heard of in the interception.

He was ranting about something, speaking to himself. "The power of the sun at the palm of my hand, only to be ruined by that fucking-"

‘What is this man even talking about…’

His words died down in your ears as it took a few seconds for your spider-sense to peak, and you scrunched your face features. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes squinted, cheeks squeezing up and causing the lenses of the mask to stretch and flatten.

"(Y/n)? Found anything yet?" Peter inquired.

"This man... I think I know him... but also not..." At this point, your spider-sense was rampant. Your gaze still confused as you tried to decipher him. Your spider sense was alerting you of this oddly familiar feeling. It was someone you had dealt with before, but also someone new. Simply off-putting.

Then the realization fell on you, his tentacle-like arms.

"Is that Doc Ock!?" Without getting a hold of your reaction, you accidentally raised your voice and revealed your location. Your spider-sense tingled again, this time, sensing imminent danger as you backflipped and dodged the incoming attack. The crate you were hiding behind of was broken into splinters.

"Come on out, Spider-Man!" he shouted, his voice in pure anger.

Spider-Man? As long as you remember, you never referred to your disguised self as Spider-Man...

"It's Spider-Woman, mind you" You revealed yourself off the shadows, and the light basked in your costume, revealing its signature colors and design. "Do I know you by chance?" you tited your head, inquisitive in your tone as you were trying to figure things out.

The man's expression fell, and his rage was replaced by annoyance.

"Is this some kind of sick joke, Spider-Man? Have you forgotten the name of the man whose work of life you ruined, Otto Octavius." His tongue rolled of his name with spite and you widened your eyes.

"Doc Ock? But, you are different. You are totally human". Last time you checked, Doc Ock was a mad scientist that turned himself half-octopus by bioengineering his genetics in the name of some sort of sick evolution idea. He had tried to turn the city into mutants like himself for 'the sake of humanity's future' and you managed to stop his plans. Furthermore, he had been sent to a high-security prison for villains, where an anti-serum is being developed to turn him back and halt his aggression.

"Are you pulling my leg Spider-Man?" He said with disbelief, and he began to appear more and more angry by the second. He muttered something below his breath, and you swore you saw one of his tentacles turn toward his face as if it were sentient and listening...

"I've told you it's Spider-Woman." You huffed out, chest puffing out. You had a bad feeling about this...

The man's hand ran down his own face and he groaned, visibly tired. "Well, whatever, but you do appear to be an ally of Peter Parker's, your costume and your name leave little room for further speculation". The mention of your friend raised up your guard, how did he know Pete? Any doubts and hesitation erased themselves of your mind, for your friend could be in lethal danger.

"Oh? What's the matter, 'Spider-Woman'," he sneered.

"Picked right on the web, hmm?" He edged on, a dangerous smirk dancing on his face and two claws raising up in the air, ready to pounce.

There was not much to it, as you jumped sideways to dodge whatever that clawed-tentacle-armor was. You found yourself right back at the gig, fighting a villain as the one and only Spider-Woman.

Or so you thought.

A/n: Hi! So when I first saw this fictional man I KNEW I had to write about him, originally, it was going to be a long one shot, but I decided to break it into parts. I expect this story to be up to 3 parts or 4 as most. Anyhow, I hope you come to like it!, and sorry for the long- ass intro, I really wanted to dwelve deeper into reader as a spider person. Next is the real thing. I have seen some people have asked me to tag them, so don’t be shy to ask too!

[myfeetrcolddd]

The Dress

The dress she wore was short, and tight, and in his favorite color. Not to mention it was her that was wearing it. All these things did nothing to lessen the tightness in Theos pants, actually it was these things that had made the tightness in the first place, and the way she was dancing did nothing to help.

He knew she was there the moment she walked into the room, like a sixth sense he could always tell when she was near, and it wasn't long before he had his eyes on her, and after an hour they hadn't left her. Trained on her like it was the only thing his eyes were meant to do, and if that were the case Theo wouldn't complain at all, because hell if he could look at her forever. He'd pay his whole inheritance if someone could find anything better for him to look at.

"Are you going to talk to her or what?" Blaise's voice drifted through the fog of Theos mind that was clouded with thoughts of how he would make that girl his.

"Yeah, you've just been staring at her like a creep since she's gotten here." Pansy added and Theo brought his eyes to his friends who sat around a fire place, and glared at them.

But he knew they were right, he knew he should go talk to her, because he knew she felt his gaze on her this whole time. The same way he could always feel her looking at him during classes, when she thought he wasn't looking.

Downing the rest of the beer in the solo cup Theo rose from his seat. Determined to get a dance, and hopefully more from the girl he had been pining for for too many years.

She was dancing on the makeshift dance floor with her back to him as he stalked towards her, like predator hunting its prey.

His eyes caught the sway of her hips, her ass round and plump under the skimpy dress.

Theo pressed himself against her, her back to his front, making sure there was no part of her body left untouched. His arms wrapped around her waist, his head tucked into the crook of his neck, and his boner pressed into her ass.

She gasped at the feeling and stopped dancing. His groin pressed deep into her ass. She had known that this dress and her dancing would elicit some kind of reaction from Theo but never had she imagined it to be such a... big, reaction, both literally and figuratively.

"Nice of you to finally join me Teddy." She said, going back to dancing, well more like grinding on Theo behind her.

He groaned, "Clearly I should have joined earlier." His words came out slightly strained as he nuzzled his face into her neck and she grinned.

"You should have." She had only her imagination when it came to the things they could have done if he had approached her sooner, things that would leave her sore for days on end.

"Did you wear this for me Princess?" He whispered, his fingers playing with the hem of her much too short dress.

"And if I say I wore it for someone else?" She asked, the sly grin on her face unmistakable.

Theo growled from behind her and swiftly turned her in his arms, "Then I won't go easy on you when I take you up to my dorm." His voice was raspy and his breath was hot on her ear.

"And who says I'll be going to your dorm?"

"Me." His words had barely processed in her mind before he had thrown her over his shoulder and was stomping towards his dorm. In the distance there was a faint noise of hooting and cheering.

"Theodore Nott put me down!" She balled her fists, hitting his back repeatedly.

She hears him open his dorm door and watches as he kicks it shut behind him. Theo places her on the ground in front him.

She glares up at him as he stares down at her, his hands rested on her waist possessively as his eyes roamed her face and body hungrily. "Have I ever told you how stunning you are." His voice came out soft, and his pupils were dilated.

"I-it's the dress." She stammered, she had bought the dress because it flattered her body, and because she knew it would get Theos attention.

"It's so much more than the dress, Baby." He whispered, leaning in closer, his eyes darted from her lips to her eyes, she did the same.

"You're crazy." She says because it was the first thing that came to mind, but it seems to encourage him because he grins and pauses, his lips a breath away from hers.

"Crazy for you." He murmurs before smashing his lips onto hers. Their lips moved in sync, with the same ravenous hunger.

Theo moved her back, leading them towards his bed, not taking his lips off hers once. He didn't stop until the back of her knees hit the bed, his lips left her for a moment before he pushed her back and she landed on the middle of her bed. He cast a privacy charm on the room before he climbed on top her and caught her in a kiss. She gasped and his tongue dived right in.

A breathy moan left her lips.

I got too scared to write smut... but here's this I guess. <3

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 18

right off the bat, Teacher seems very sure that this was not murder and keen not to have a full murder investigation. i don't think he's necessarily suspicious or anything, but he seems incredibly scared of whats down there, but maybe also not wanting others to find out about it? personally i'm not totally convinced, i feel like it could be a combination e.g. one of the other Houses let loose/awoke something in the lab on purpose

first proper look we've gotten at the Second House here, and, unsurprisingly for the literal military, they seem very into authority - also interesting that they're the ones apparently responsible for carrying out murder investigations, i suppose it makes sense given we haven't seen any other real form of law enforcement at all

and, of course, suspicion is falling on the Ninth now given they were the ones who found the bodies. honestly a little surprised they weren't suspected sooner

ok so, all those who have keys (other than the ninth), and thus, atm are the only ones who could feasibly have anything to do with the deaths are: the Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, & Ianthe

Dulcinea having a key is intriguing, not only is she cleverer than she appears, she and Pro have been more active in their search than they've let on

it is possible the others of Third House were genuinely unaware that Ianthe had a key and possibly she has her own agenda, but this also feels like a very public and dramatic reveal. i don't trust that isn't a ploy to throw any suspicion away from Corona and Naberius.

Isaac and Jeannemary are just so determined to hunt whatever hurt Abigail and Magnus, its killing me. they're clearly grieving, and without oversight now, i'm very concerned they're gonna get themselves into big trouble

the way that Harrow just trusts implicitly now that Gideon locked the hatch 😢

hmmm Abigail hated heights, i can definitely understand given i also have a phobia of anything higher than a set of ground-floor stairs. its also a little strange given she would have had to descend that tunnel to get to the lab, but i don't think its necessarily suspicious or a big clue, she could have been willing to brave it for a larger goal

Harrow seems rather desensitised to the fact that two people just got murdered, but it makes sense given how much death she's surrounded with constantly. that being said girl two people just got murdered chill out

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

*Offers a small, shiny coin*

May I request,, small interaction with our silly ocs

(If you have time ofc ofc :3)

I just can't write small, my love <3 you deserve better (and oh my god isn't that big headed thingy cute)

Starring:

Sgt. Christine 'Riot' Vega, Task Force 141

Phayvanh 'Nak' Sotsvahn, Chimera @vasyandii

Additional appearance of Lt. Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova @nrdmssgs

Set after Lullaby and before the second chapter of Darker Matters

At first, when Nak had been told by Nikolai that he had a mission for her of the utmost importance, she had been sceptical. Then excited. And then sceptical again.

For some reason, it was a mission for three people.

For some reason, one of those people was Chimera's second in command.

For another, unknown, baffling reason, the third person wasn't another Chimera operative, but none other than Sergeant Christine Vega, Riot, from the Task Force 141.

Nikolai had flown the three of them to some unknown southern coast to hunt down a target in a luxury resort.

That had been easy enough.

*

''Riot, Nak, are you in position?'' Zhar's calm voice came through their comms as they waited in the darkness of an underground parking lot.

''In position'' Nak answered her comm, listening to Riot mumble her own answer. She could see her forced companion with the corner of her eye, looking ahead with her arms crossed and her fingers tapping rythmically to some melody that wasn't there.

Riot had been perfectly nice when introduced to the rest of Chimera by an awfully proud Nikolai and an equally smiley Zhar, which had made Krueger jealous right away, of course.

Both women were standing in a precise spot that during the reconaissance that Riot had made earlier proved to be the only blind spot in the whole complex.

It wasn't ideal. It was risky.

But the target had parked his car right there. Right where the ceiling lamps had been suspiciously broken the previous day.

Riot muttered something under her breath that Phayvanh didn't quite catch, so she looked in her direction, in silence, until the other woman seemed to notice.

''Sorry. I was commenting what a fucking idiot to park here, in the darkest corner''

''Works for us, though'' Nak shrugged, unbothered, checking for the fifth time that her dual push blades were secured in her fists. Given the situation of the parking lot, and the possibility of being heard, the options were using silencers or knives.

Both Nak and Riot had grinned at the mention of the knives, and without another word, had agreed to it.

''For you, mostly. I'm here as an observer'' The blonde woman chuckled, shaking her head with pretended sadness, but Nak was almost sure there was a smile underneath that mask. ''This is a Chimera's contract, the target is yours. I can't intervene unless you're in immediate danger''

Phay simply nodded, checking her blades for the sixth time, methodical. The target was some asshole involved in human trafficking that had tried to use the wrong person's daughter. Nikolai had been too happy to take the contract, and even Zhar had jumped on the opportunity.

That didn't explain Riot's presence though.

She was still musing about it when their comms clicked again.

''Objective is going down on the elevator. ETA three minutes'' Zhar's voice was still calm, collected. Nak doubted there was anything that could move that woman, and she admired that a lot. ''Make sure to terminate him on the spot and leave him there. Move to exfil point through the way you entered''

''Roger'' Both women answered, their eyes fixed on the path open between them, while they kept to the shadows.

"Objective stopped on the ground floor. Two men joined him" Zhar informed through the comm, sounding annoyed. "They look like private security but not with the resort"

"Understood" Nak answered, mentally trying to picture how to proceed, and looked at Riot. Her companion had her knives in her hands, two long bowie blades with dark hilt.

The finger tapping was completely gone.

"You take care of the target. I'll take care of the others"

"They are two" Nak smiled at her, and Riot smiled back.

"More fun"

The seconds seemed longer as they waited, their hands firmly gripping their knives. The only sound in Nak's ears was her own heartbeat.

The sound of the elevator's doors opening was almost eerie in the darkness. Steps started to approach them, accompanied by the chatter of a masculine voice speaking in a language neither of them spoke.

Nak had memorized his face though. So when the target, still babbling his nonsense, walked right past her, she simply grabbed him from behind and swiftly dug one of her blades in his throat.

Riot acted just when she saw Nak initiating her movement, sliding on the floor thanks to her kneepads to dig her bowies on the thighs of both bodyguards.

One of the men yelped and fell to the ground, gripping his thigh, the other tried to draw his gun only to find the sharp edge of one of the bowies sinking in his throat, making him emit a gurgling sound before dropping to the floor.

The other bodyguard was still trying to reach his holster when Riot's knife sank deep in his chest, over one of his clavicles, right as Nak's blade did the same on his side.

Less than a minute.

"Report"

"Done" Nak allowed the dead target to drop on top of one of his bodyguards, and started to head for the exit route. Riot followed her in silence, both women moving in the shadows, sheltered by the lack of working lamps towards their point of entry and escape.

"Have you ever gone surfing?"

Nak almost stopped in her tracks when she heard Riot's voice behind her. While she waited for her answer, the other woman had started to hum a melody.

"Can't... say I have, why?"

"Oh, nothing" Riot's cheerful voice, for some reason, made her nervous and confused. "There's still a mission to do before we go back"

*

Now Nak was even more confused, standing on a beach, wearing a borrowed swimsuit because she didn't own one, staring at the sea and watching with astonishment while Riot explained her how to stand on a surf board.

''Is this... part of the mission?'' Phayvanh asked quietly, still puzzled. Looking back briefly, she could see Olga working on her laptop, comfortably sheltered under a tent to avoid the direct sunrays.

''What?'' Christine blinked, losing track of what she was saying, but suddenly she started nodding. A lot. ''Of course, of course, it's all part of the mission''

Phay was still hesitant, but deep inside, she felt excitement as the other woman continued explaining and demonstrating how to use the surf board.

She was still feeling great when they went into the water, and after a long, long time of trying to get on the board, falling, trying to get on again, succeeding, trying to ride a wave, and mostly drowning, she had to admit it.

She was having a great time. So great that it wasn't until after a while that she realized that Christine was sitting on the sand next to her own board, just smiling at her.

''Tired already?'' Phay asked, dragging her board and leaving it next to the other woman's before sitting down next to her.

''Hardly. But I promised Olga that I would only be in the water for a little bit'' Christine shrugged, but seeing Phay's confused face, she laughed and pointed at her left side. ''Got shot a couple of weeks ago, I'm supposed to be on leave, resting"

''Then why are you here?''

''My team is deployed for a short op and I couldn't go'' Christine laughed, brushing back her wet hair. "Captain Price figured I'd be bored out of my mind and Nikolai offered me something to do"

"To be my babysitter?" *Phay grinned, and when Christine stood up and offered her hand, took it to rise to her feet.

"To make you have fun. That was half of my mission" Christine grabbed her surfboard and guided Phay back to where they had left their things, close to the tent where Olga, always the workaholic, was still typing away on her laptop.

"Half of your... what's the other half?" Phay left her board next to Christine's, looking at her curiously. "Back at the resort you said we still had a mission to fulfill"

"That we do. I was your backup then, now you're mine" Christine started rummaging in her bags, and giggled mischievously when she found what she was looking for. "Nikolai asked me to make sure Olga doesn't spend her whole time here working. Because I love her, I've allowed her to work for a couple of hours"

"How do you pretend to... oh" Phay covered her mouth with her hands to hide a smile.

What Christine was holding were two nerf water guns. And her grin was downright naughty.

"Ready?"

Phay grinned back and grabbed the offered water gun

"Always"

[kobold-sanctuary-buss-island]

BLUE MOON BALL DAY SEVEN: "Letter to the Ball"

So... It turns out that soon after i finished writing my sixth log entry of the Blue Moon Ball, i fell unconscious and collapsed upon the floor. I do not know why this happened, but i suspect the battering i took from the butlers and the Four Elements sandwich were to blame. I am currently stuck in a bed and unable to eat or drink anything other than a glass of water and four small, plain biscuits, else i will become violently sick. Every millimetre of my body aches in some form, and i cannot move my tail at all.

The following is what happened between then and me waking in this bed, relayed to me after i awoke:

I fell to the ground while walking back to the mansion, and i was carried onto a soft couch in the lounge by my staff. I was then sent between at least twenty-five hospitals in the region before eventually being flown out of Victoria International Airport (!!!) back to Buss Island. Apparently, Tarquin is going to be on Buss Island for the forseeable future, as the butlers were hunting after him. It has been several days since i went to the ball, and i have only risen today.

My blankets and pillows are very comfortable, and i hope that if a second Blue Moon Ball were to arrive, i will not be harassed by the robots. Please, in addition, drop the Four Elements sandwich and seal the recipe in a concrete-filled barrel buried deep in the desert.

To my friend, the @good-wizard, i do apologize for not being able to find you.

To the organizer of the ball, Lurien Artiodactyla Andalusia Anuva, i do apologize for breaking your toilet by throwing up rocks into it, and the mess caused by me destroying your butler robot. In my defense, he was trying to attack me, and i was hungry.

I also apologize for my handwriting being shakier than usual.

Yours faithfully, Jim, President of Buss Island.

[volterran-wine]

𝗦𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝐈𝐕: An Angel of Death || Caius

“Now I am become Death.” ― The Bhagavad Gita

Summary: Caius' hunt for the children of the moon has begun, Felix is tasked with shadowing his every move though he comes to regret it.

Wordcount: 2597 words

!Warnings! This is the goriest thing I have written to date. If you are squeamish I would not recommend reading this. If you have a sensitivity towards animal abuse I would also steer clear seeing as though the werewolves are designed with quite wolfish features; it is easy to imagine a poor wolf. 

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𝐄𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲

SOUTHERN GERMANIA, 24 AD

“Listen,”

Hushed yet excited whispers quieted the second he spoke, his fellow hunters gathering around him, eagerly awaiting their orders. Their sixth hunt was soon at hand, over the last weeks he had assembled a hunting party worthy enough to aid in his mission. The excitement of it all glittered in their eyes, wide and bright as if the king were about to quench their thirsts after a hundred day sabbatical. Yes, he had trained them very well, as loyal and vicious as Caius wanted them to be.

Like dogs.

But then there was also Felix, tall and strong; always to his left.

The howls cut through the air as the moon climbed to its highest peak, and though the night was clouded it bathed the forested valley in a sheer glow. Claws gently scraped at the back of his nape, threatening to tear into the flesh at display there. For now the wind worked in their favour, for Caius could smell the rotting fur from their perch. The claws tore at his scalp, yanking his hair, but he resisted. Teeth ground together as he let the anticipation wash over him, shadows swirling at the corner of his eyes.

“Children of the moon,—”

A ridiculous name, but his brother had always had a fondness for theatrics. Had anyone consulted him he would have informed them the beasts did not deserve a name, too mindless for even such a distinction. Now as he listened to their calls he let himself imagine what they possibly could be communicating to one another. The world shifted, and with it the winds changed their direction. He frowned, their scents would carry far. In the distance the howls soured, the pitch reaching an excruciating high as frantic heartbeats joined the symphony. Panic had set in among the pack situated at the bottom of the valley.

“Like they are singing.” he breathed out, shoulders relaxing.

The bliss was short lived however, for another set of wolves joined in the chorus, the beasts foolishly thought sheer numbers would alter the course of fate. From the corner of his eyes he glimpsed a swirling pool of darkness among the trees, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“Kill them.”

—

The sharp yelp always made something twist inside of him.

Felix felt the wolf relax in his grip, life slowly fading away as he lowered the body down to the forest floor; its eyes still trained on the moon that hung above. As he went to stand up he clutched his forearm with a hiss, the animal had left a deep gash that would certainly take the rest of the night to fully heal. A sigh raked his body as he looked beyond the trees.

It had been on Sulpicia’s orders that he had asked to be a member of the hunting party.

Her eyes had swam with fresh tears of rage that night, all on behalf of her dearest sister Athenodora. Caius could no longer be left to his own devices, and either Felix would join every hunt henceforth, or Aro’s wife would find a way to end this once and for all. It was not in his nature to betray his superior, but they all remembered the cracks that had littered Athenodora’s upper arms and ribs. So for the time being he would consider himself the champion of his very own Athena.

After all, killing had always been his talent.

His fellow comrades revelled in the hunt, and Felix saw how they unceremoniously tore the animals limb for limb; there would be nothing left to burn.

Closing his eyes he focused on his surroundings instead, seeking out Caius’ footsteps and quiet muttering through the roaring fires and terrified shrieks. Just beyond his eyesight his comrades were laughing. The group had cornered one of the youngest wolves, toying with it before going in for the kill. With a sneer he listened beyond the ruckus, and there, to the east he could hear the low song his leader had come to hum when he hunted. The sight that met him was the kind he had not even managed to conjure up in the nightmare he experienced as a human.

While Felix had taken down two wolves on his own, his superior had littered the small clearing with the bodies of his enemies. However, there had been no mercy shown to any animal who had crossed the generals path, children of the moon, wolves, deer, rabbits… they all lay in neatly piled heaps. In the midst of it all sat Caius, meticulously skinning the animals. Some of them Felix could even hear draw breath albeit painfully so. As the cheerful humming ended he finally looked at Caius, truly looked at him, and the sight would be one he would never forget in his immortal life.

Hair that had once been pure as snow was now caked with blood, parts dried into lumps beginning to fade into a dark brown. The eyes that stared back at him were devoid of the admirable authority Felix had come to associate with Caius, what was left was a white mask marred by dirt and blood. No words could properly convey what he felt in that moment, but in a split second he let himself mourn the man he had come to know as a mentor. What remained was a violent husk that removed one tooth from every wolf he worked on, only to thread them onto a carefully woven string at his waist. Caius wanted his men and enemies alike to understand what he was capable of.

Felix had to look away from it all as the sound of bones breaking filled the clearing, eyes downcast to a doe who lay mangled at his feet.

Their eyes, what had Caius done to their eyes?

Felix’s cloak had been brand new, but no longer did he remember  if the brilliant hue of crimson was due to excellent craftsmanship, or the blood that tainted it when he fell to his knees.

—

“We are on the precipice of greatness.” Caius began, all eyes on him once more. He had brought them to the clearing that now proudly presented the spoils they could bring home to mate and family alike. Every vampire would shoulder a new wolf pelt before winter set in. The stench of death and cinders excited him, a smile playing at his lips when he continued his address;

“We have hunted and starved these beasts to near extinction near our borders. They flee north and east, and we shall hunt them there too, until no diseased creature of the moon exists in our world. For no vampire can be safe as long as they live. These beasts feast on human flesh with gluttonous abandon, no better than the Dacian scum we seek to eradicate. We shall break their jaws, hack off their furs and orphan their young so they may face starvation. And all will know who it was who purged the world of this plight.”

He made a brief pause before he continued, looking to the starry skies, eyes alight with joy

“ Tonight we,—”

A silence fell upon the clearing, for Caius’ throat had closed up. His ferocity dwindled as he took in the scene before him. On the cliff they had occupied earlier in the night stood a great black beast, eyes blood red as it stared at him, presenting its teeth and showing a maw filled with yellow rot. Once more Caius felt those claws dig into his shoulders, jagged edges sawing into his crystallised flesh until it reached his very bones. Once more he saw those images of hearth and home consumed in darkness.

One remained.

The hunting party followed his line of sight, turning back to Caius with confusion in their eyes, looking to him for guidance on how to proceed with the great wolf. How pathetic, he had trained them himself and now they stood before him, the stench of fear spoiling their scents. Just as Caius was about to chastise them for their lack of reaction the beast turned and ran.

No rest,

No hesitation,

Caius pounced.

Two guards were thrown to the wayside as he barreled through his men, both crying out before howling in pain at broken limbs and torn muscles. Their general paid them little mind as his eyes focused on the horizon that now  bled crimson, into those murky depths the wolf had disappeared and he would find it .Though Felix shouted for him to return, he did not listen.

For how far he ran he did not know, the trees blurring as he clumsily made his way down the valley. The wolf was just ahead, fumbling through the darkness and leading him farther down the hill. In a moment of weakness his prey fell, awarding him enough time to latch on to the fur, a victorious roar ringing out through the forest as Caius dug his fingers into the thick coat of the beast.

In that moment his ears began ringing, a terrible rumble that pulsated throughout his head. The earth beneath his feet crumbled, until there was no solid ground for Caius to stand on. Above him the trees caved, free falling and forcing both him and his prey to the ground. A choked shout tore its way from his lungs, but that was when the darkness descended upon the two of them. Due to sheer instinct Caius clutched the beast in his arms, face hidden away in the damp fur that smelled of copper and something else. The world was closing in, hell bent on burying him in this tomb of earth and darkness. Still, all Caius could truly focus on was the beast, unmoving as it tumbled with him until they both came to a halt.

It was finally quiet.

Even with his superior eyesight Caius could see nothing but darkness and one red eye, the other half of the beast’s head had split open, its insides bared for him to stare at for an eternity. It did not take long for the maggots and worms to crawl into the cadaver.. He felt a sense of grief wash over him, this would not be considered his kill. Dirt filled his lungs as Caius hacked and coughed, fingernails desperately cutting through the stone and earth without moving an inch. The beast was still scorching hot, and judging by the wetness on his fingers, it had been torn open by either him or the elements that had buried them.

The scream he let out would only be for Gaia to hear.

—

It was Felix who found the two of them.

He had split open the very earth itself in order to dig him out from what surely could have been his end. And as Caius rose he still clutched the rotting beast to his chest, fingers digging into the fur so firmly he pierced its skin. There must have been no way to discern where Caius began and the beast ended, for his guards eyes could not focus. Darting from his legs to his head in a bewildered manner.

Besides them Felix had put down a torch, its harsh light not illuminating much of their surroundings. But Caius could see well enough that the area had been drastically changed, for great rocks and mud clung to the side of the valley along with broken trees. In the distance he could see how his men had begun creating pyres, an observation that made him drop the broken creature that was nestled in his arms.

“ Caius,—”

“Not a word of this to anyone Felix.”

“Why are you,—”

The question died on his executioner's lips, for Caius wrenched the torch from its place and threw it at the corpse that lay beneath him. Fire quickly engulfed the beast, its fur searing as it curled in on itself, releasing a pungent smell into the air.

“We wait until it is gone.”

Felix’s silence spoke louder than words, he would stay with his general until the very last trace of the beast was gone from this world. And though his expression was one of disgust and confusion, Caius could not bring himself to care for the other vampire in that moment. The two of them watched until the fire was but an ember in the night, fog rolling into the valley as Caius finally felt like he could breathe properly. They stood there for what felt like an eternity, until the general finally felt his body bend to his will.

—

Their return was met with little fanfare, Caius noted how some of his men had even escaped into the night, there would be no mercy shown to deserters. The two of them came to a halt atop the cliff he had seen the beast on in the first place, the very thought of those red eyes sent a shiver down his spine. Snow no longer tumbled down around them, instead the sky had taken on a sickly red hue that made it difficult to assess the aftermath of what had taken place. Some of his trophies had been carried  away by the slide, honouring the beasts with a  burial they did not deserve. His expression soured as he took a deep breath to calm his nerves, once more he felt sharpened claws dig into his neck.

Nothing of this night would be brought back to Volaterrea.

“Hack their limbs off, count them and set it all ablaze.”

“Sir—”

“ Felix. ”

Though his back was turned to the guard Caius could sense on the soft breeze that Felix had straightened up, shoulders square and tense. The man had followed Caius as a loyal hound since he whisked him away from the fighting pits, and he would not tolerate insubordination — not tonight. A firm nod was all the king needed as confirmation, his second would make sure that every single one of the mangled bodies would go up in smoke. Another shift in the air and Felix was gone, joining his fellow guards below as Caius looked out across what remained of the forest.

Caius peered over the edge of the cliff, though a fog had enveloped the forest in a mournful shroud he could make out how his guards prepared to perform their duties. Flint and Iron struck, sparks dancing as his guards kept a safe distance; torches prepared. Just as the fire took hold the fog finally parted and the full moon now hung low in the sky. Its eerie red hue made every scar of his itch and burn, how Caius had grown to detest the moon. Soon enough the sound of flesh and bone being torn apart filled the air, what remained of the beasts seared on the open fires as their existence was reduced to nothing.

The pyres multiplied, spreading through the forest as guiding lights for the forlorn and dispossessed.

But here they would only find death.

—

Caius hunted the werewolves for decades, a man obsessed with his thirst for violence, torture and death; one he was unable to quench no matter how much blood stained his hands. Perhaps it had been the moirai who had spun their threads and guided him to a new purpose in death, but the brutal king would never dwell on it for long ― for the high of victory clouded his senses until the world was stained with the blood of the moon's children.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞; Thank you so much for your patience.

[pearls-and-vignettes]

A pearl. It is translucent, lightly marred by the amber tint of age. It is a memory captured in a format not yet obsolete, for the original moment has likely long been cast into oblivion.

001.013 - RECOLLECTION A SHAKY COLLECTION OF MOMENTS IS PLAYED IN SEQUENTIAL ORDER TO SIMULATE MOVEMENT. THIS IS ACCOMPANIED BY A CRUDE IMITATION OF NOISE GENERATED BY A MOVING MEMBRANE, CONVERTED INTO A STANDARD LISTENING FORMAT. C.3865.447 - FEED [AUDIOVISUAL, TRANSCRIPTION] Many are gathered around a bonfire in a large, open, arboreal space. There are many centers of activity. Small fires are tended by those cooking bounties of the hunt and forage over them. Another group sits around a teller, who shares stories of a time long-passed, chronicled on a set of earthen tablets. A group of five stands on the base of a felled tree. They strike and push their wind through trinkets; two horns carved hollow, a membranous resonant chamber, an array of crudely pressed metal sheets, and a contraption of many fibers and mallets. A sixth stands in front of them all, bearing nothing. The sound is strangely serene; more than just a revelrous symphony. It embodies the collection of life in this gathering. The hardship that each soul has faced, the blisses each one has experienced. In a mere collection of noises, the song is familiarity. It is triumph. The leading figure produces a gliding tone. All activity around the campfire ceases. Sunrise, Love everlasting Reaches out To a lover like me again A parent harbors their newly-born child in clean cloths. Sunrise and love, Two people hold each other close, sharing a bowl of fruit. Love, An elderly figure towers over their grandchildren in protection. Love, A found family sits close to the bonfire for comfort. Ever-lasting

Another process is executed in parallel.

12664.134 - INTERNAL MESSAGE OPEN BROADCAST DETECTED; RECEIVING […]

A mobile looking device is near enough for its broadcast to be read.

12664.134 - FEED [AUDIOVISUAL, LIVE] A PEARL VIEWER TERMINAL PLAYS A TRANSCRIPTION OF AN ANCIENT FILE. THE MODEL IS UNRECOGNIZABLE, PRESUMABLY SINCE IT DOES NOT APPEAR IN ANY CATALOGS DUE TO ITS AGE. THE ROOM SURROUNDING THE INTERFACE SEEMS INHABITED, AND IS LIT BY A RUDIMENTARY STYLE OF FIXTURE. ITS DESIGN IS ANCIENT. A SOUND FILLS THE ROOM. IT IS A PRIMORDIAL SONG. Sunrise, Love in its splendor Speaks to me In metaphysical harmony 12664.134 - INTERNAL MESSAGE IDENTIFICATION REQUEST DETECTED. PRESENTING SCHEMATICS

A pearl is retrieved from memory. A technical draft of a structure is presented.

12664.134 - DRAFT [SIMPLIFIED] AN IMMENSE COMPLEX; SPECIFICATIONS DICTATE IT TO BE TWICE THE HEIGHT OF THE LARGEST ITERATORS. IT PLUNGES DEEP BELOW THE SURFACE OF THE WATER, INTO THE SEA FLOOR BELOW, AND FAR DEEPER THAN THAT. ABOVE THE SURFACE IS AN INTERFACE MADE FOR MODULAR ADAPTATIONS AND HIGH-CAPACITY DATA PROCESSING. THIS STRUCTURE IS BUILT TO HOLD COUNTLESS PEARLS.

The Overseer relocates to outside the interface room, onto a crop of sea rock peeking above the surface.

12664.134 - FEED [AUDIOVISUAL, LIVE] THE SURFACE OF THE WATER IS TEEMING WITH COLORED PEARLS. THE STRUCTURE'S AUDIO OUTPUT PERMEATES THE NEARBY ENVIRONMENT THROUGH MEANS UNKNOWN. We move In love, in its majesty Ever, upwards To delight in its mystery

The Overseer has untethered from the ground. It goes for an aerial view.

12664.134 - FEED [AUDIOVISUAL, LIVE] AROUND THE STRUCTURE THERE IS NOTHING BUT SEA. OPEN OCEAN SPANS ON A SCALE LARGER THAN CAN EVEN BE CONCEIVED BY ITERATORS. Sunrise in love, Love, Love, For the world to see Sunrise in outer space, Love for every face

The feed cuts off without warning. The Overseer is either out of range, or has been destroyed through unknown means.

Sunrise, Love everlasting Sunlight in outer space, Love for every face Sunrise in outer space, Love for everybody Sunrise in outer space, Love for everybody Sunrise in outer space,

Love for everybody

[the-world-annealing]

Independence

The year is 2000 BC: older than the Epic of Gilgamesh, than the Minoans, than alphabets. Imagine you are an alien observing Earth. Looking for signs of intelligent life, you might first note Egypt (because wherever you go in history, you may expect Egypt to be there), the Indus valley civilizations, Norte Chico across the Peruvian coast. All cradles of civilization, few far from the equator.

But let's head north.

Turkey, China, central Asia, chiefdoms in south Europe. No great monuments here, no magnificent cities, but still villages, worked bronze, pottery.

Further north still.

Hunter-gatherers in North America and Siberia. A few agricultural societies in Europe, whose constructions are the biggest manmade thing above the 55th parallel.

Further north still.

Scandinavia, central Canada, the northern reaches of Russia. Iceland, void of humans, destined to remain so for several more millennia.

Further north still, past the polar circle.

Canada's islands, northern Russia, Greenland. The last of these is a new world, the latest large landmass that humans have reached, the first settlers having crossed from Ellesmere only 500 years ago. They mostly cling to its southwestern shores: comparatively balmy, in some ways preferable to Canada's northernmost reaches.

Further north still?

Peary land, North Greenland. Northernmost solid ground on earth: only ice lies beyond. Just a handful of fjords here bother to thaw at all: the average temperature exceeds zero only at the height of summer. During winter, temperatures reach 30 below zero, sometimes dipping even lower.

In this place, in this time, people live. They live in small tents with central hearths, and cover the floors in animal skins. They have no soapstone lamps, no harpoons, no sled dogs. Their main game animal is twice their size: they hunt it with stone tools, in temperatures that would kill an unprotected human within an hour.

These are not Inuit: if any people in this era could be called Inuit, they are in Alaska, on the other side of the continent, having moved little since their ancestors crossed the Bering strait. These are not even the people who the Inuit replaced; the Dorset, whose ancestors dwell in Canada still. We call these people Independence 1, after an American's name for a local fjord. For once, no alternatives existed: this land was truly empty by the time he arrived there.

Because the people called Independence did not survive: 2000 BC is the beginning of their end. The climate cools, mercilessly continuing a millennia-old trend. People will stop moving here, cutting their last line of contact with the outside world. By the time these people disappear, they will have been isolated for centuries. The man who indirectly named them had no idea of their existence, and yet no name could have been more fitting.

What was their life like, those final few generations? What did they think, at their end of the earth, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, not to return for a sixth of the year? Did they believe all the world was an icy shore, like theirs? When the last of them died, did she believe humanity died with her?

Peary land is not the furthest point from the African savannahs, neither measured in absolute distance or by the path humans travelled to reach it. But it is, indisputably, the most different. And when a future humanity travels to even stranger places, pray they remember those poor dead, who did the same thing long ago, and ultimately failed.

[iviarellereads]

Gideon the Ninth, Chapter 18

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(First House icon) In which several arguments are started, but not all resolved.

It's easy to say, bring those bodies up this staple ladder. It's quite another to do it, and it takes nearly an hour to get them up and stored in the freezer room. Colum the Eighth also has to be hauled up the ladder by Corona and Gideon, and Teacher cries out in horror at the sight of him, and arranges for him to lay as if in state, with incense burning to revive him.

Everyone not unconscious or dead is clutching cups of tea. The Second, it turns out, were the ones who summoned Teacher to the hatch. Captain Deuteros says, not for the first time apparently, that they should inform the Cohort and the Fifth House. Teacher says they cannot.

Deuteros continues that the Fifth will want an investigation carried out. Jeannemary adds, "A murder investigation," at which Teacher says they cannot assume it was murder. Lieutenant Dyas asks heatedly if Teacher thinks it was an accident. No, certainly not, not those two. But murder is done by the living. He told every person who asked about the hatch that to enter it would mean their deaths, that they were walking into the most dangerous place in the whole Dominicus system. Naberius asks why the supposed monsters haven't come for Teacher and the priests. Teacher says they haven't come yet but he lives in fear of the day they do. He cannot believe the idea that anyone in this room killed them.

Deuteros says this still requires the authorities, but Teacher says they cannot and will not call them. And there's no motive! Who would harm a good man and a good woman of the Fifth House? Deuteros hardly wants it to be murder, but a proper investigation must be conducted, and she has the grounds to stop the trial and take command.

Coronabeth tells Judith not to be silly, even she doesn't have that authority. Deuteros starts quoting rules and regs, but Naberius says a Cohort captain does not rank higher than a Third official. Deuteros says it very much does, actually.

Coronabeth interjects that Judith knows the Third, she came to all the Tridentarius birthday parties. Teacher has a point: who here would want to kill Magnus and Abigail? The hatch could have been left open, and it's such a long fall. Wasn't it the Ninth down there when it happened? Harrow says she's absolutely certain they locked the hatch before continuing, even though it was Gideon with the key.

Corona asks how many houses had a hatch key. Camilla and Palamedes answer "The Sixth," as one. Dulcinea offers that she and Pro have one. From the floor, Silas says Colum has the copy given to the Eighth, and they told the Fifth about the facility after the party, because she asked, and he doesn't lie. And, because he's not interested in the Ninth achieving Lyctorhood alone, just for guessing a childish riddle.

Harrow says the Eighth hatred of the Ninth is superstition. Silas keeps provoking, and Harrow says the Seventh already gave him one black eye, yet he seems to yearn for another. At this, Silas seems utterly nonplussed, but when Dulcinea begs forgiveness at Protesilaus's reactions, Silas declares that when Colum awakes, their cavs will duel.

Corona says this is madness. They cannot leave this room suspecting one another, they all knew it was dangerous. They must make a pact to trust each other or it will all devolve to further madness. Deuteros asks if they should just take Teacher's word for it that there are monsters, then?

Isaac stands, agony on his face, and says if there's a monster it must be hunted, and if a haunting, it must be banished. Whatever killed Abigail and Magnus, it can't be left alone. Jeannemary agrees, but Palamedes says no. They proceed scientifically. With everyone's permission, he will examine the bodies to get a sense of how they died, and anyone is welcome to join him. Once they have the facts, they may begin to plan next actions.

First, because they all know about the facility, Palamedes suggests that they warn each other of any unusual dangers. Harrow protests, she will not collaborate. Palamedes says she won't be forced to, but she can warn about anything that seems particularly out of place.

Teacher brings attention back to the matter of keys. Following his line of sight, everyone looks at Ianthe, who admits she also has one. She took Babs's keyring when he wasn't paying attention. Naberius appeals to Corona, why didn't she tell him? Corona says she didn't know either, and furthermore, she's got to go to bed, she's feeling rather overwrought.

Palamedes stands with Corona, and says he and Camilla will be going to look at the bodies, with Deuteros and Dyas, he assumes. They confirm. Pal suggests they go ahead, he wants a word first.

The gathering breaks up, Dulcinea and Protesilaus follow the mob to the freezer, while the Third leave like a group about to have a grand fight in private. Palamedes pulls Harrow's sleeve gently, guiding her to a corner of the room, and she follows without a cavil(1). Teacher is supervising as Silas seems to try to call Colum back to his body, saying he'll have a harder time than usual here. Silas says he's fought harder and in colder climes, and come back to him "through stranger ghosts", whatever that means.

As Silas goes back to praying over his nephew, Jeannemary puts her hand around Gideon's wrist and asks if she knows anything, to tell, the Fifth meant so much to the teens, they need to know. Gideon sadly puts her hand on Jeannemary's shoulder, and shakes her head no. When Jeannemary starts to cry, Gideon loses the battle to deal, puts a hand on Jeannemary's head like a puppy, and says she's so sorry. Jeannemary believes her. Magnus liked her. Abigail hated heights, so neither would ever risk falling. And, Abigail was a spirit magician, if it was ghosts why wouldn't she-

Nearby, Colum gives a racking cough, and Silas chides that he's getting tardy about his returns.

Gideon wishes Jeannemary had finished her sentence(2), but Harrow is coming back with an intense concentration written all over her face. Jeannemary leaves, so Gideon falls into step with Harrow, who is "sick of these people,"(3) sick of everyone's being so slow here, and their all failing to understand the implications of what they've been told. In the mean time, they have a door to open. Gideon suggests getting a good night's sleep first, and Harrow says that's an admirable attempt at comedy, under the circumstances, but no.

=====

(1) Cavil - as a noun, a petty or unnecessary objection, or as a verb, the act of making such. (2) I think we can make an educated guess that Abigail should have had an advantage over anything noncorporeal. Gideon, you sweet himbo. (3) Possibly a rephrase reference to Dr. Manhattan's stint on Mars reflecting on his life in Watchmen, which has become rather a meme even if the text of "I am tired of this world - these people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives." has become detached from the actual panel where it appears. (PS don't trust Know Your Memes for everything, they link to a Tumblr post with the text attached to the wrong panel and in the wrong size and maybe even the wrong font entirely. The proper quotation is from chapter 4, page 25, frame 6 at the bottom. The image in the Tumblr post is from chapter 3, page 21, frame 2.) Also, it's interesting to think about, if this is an intentional reference, whether Muir intended it to feel more nihilistic in the style of the meme's popularity, or more humanistic in the comic's context, where it's part of a longer reflection on Manhattan's life, his trouble connecting to people since the incident, and just a few chapters later, he acknowledges that the world is so full of miracles that even he can forget how special they are.

[mongo-the-liensis]

Daniel: How do you want your coffee?

Carl, after beating some guy to death but not before the guy pleaded, saying he has a family at home: Black, like my soul.

Daniel:

Daniel: Carl, your soul is a latte.

[fernrisulfr]

Kero Aaau'rk Kwaak Vrak Chi'raap Hrom Ka'ool

If you hadn’t guessed by this point, it’s a Grung. Originally designed for a One-shot, this character followed in after the death of Aravroth in the “Exploding Orc Incident”. He died the week after and was rezzed via plot device. 

Kero (Cleric 8) Cleric (Tempest) - Outlander (Tribal marauder)  - Grung (Red) - Chaotic/Neutral - Kero Aaau'rk Kwaak Vrak Chi'raap Hrom Ka'ool

Backstory Used: Born the seventy-sixth son of Ree'Ibbit of the Green Caste, Kero was originally intended to be a labourer alongside his father and numerous siblings; however a shortage of warriors saw him placed elsewhere. Given the numerous dangers of the Flooded Forest which they called home, the tribe was always in need of replacement fighters. Assigned to the tribes mauraders, Kero spent his day pillaging the villages and camps of lizardfolk, bullywugs, and those unfortunate souls who had become lost in the Flooded Forest. During one such raid, disaster struck. The ground shook violently, and with a thunderous crack several trees fell upon them. For an instant there was pain, a flash of white, then utter blackness. When he awoke, it was under water; but rather than being pressed into the muddy ground by a tree, he found himself on a stone floor. The Grung was in a large room, completely dark save for a few glowing stones embedded at the base of an alte. Behind it a statue of a massive elk, it's antlers wreathed with long rusted chains. This appeared to be the long sunken temple of some sort of deity. Kero found himself awestruck. Though he was unable to read much of the inscription upon the base of the statue, he was able to make out a single repeating name. Elkathyrn. Over the course of several days after this incident, Kero  would return to the temple under the guise of hunting. Prying a glowing stone free of it's socket, he spent hours each day inspecting the temple, taking in the details of the statue, as well as any inscription or relief he could find in the room. On the twelfth night he had a dream, a vision of a massive black elk, antlers wreathed with chains, eyes crackling like lightning. His hooves the sound of thunder. His voice a howling gale. Shattering stone and earth as he ran across the land. More dreams followed. Visions of disasters unbiasly striking down the wicked and the virtuous, but always were there survivors. Those to learn and grow from the experience, and face the next disaster better prepared. Interpretting these visions as lessons, Kero did what he could to try and prepare himself and others to better survive the hazards of their home, until one night the dreams stopped. Without warning or given reason. For weeks Kero returned to the temple daily, going so far as to carve what he believed to be Elkathyrn's symbol out of wood. When that too failed he went even further, convincing a Blue Grung Artisan to make the symbol out of black iron. Still each night greeted him only with silence and darkness. Then the Lizardfolk attacked. An ambush by the Blackmaw Tribe in retaliation for an earlier raid. Things quickly turned into a one sided slaughter. Shield up, standing alongside other warriors, his only hope was that those behind him would make it to the safety of the trees. As a set of reptilian fangs sank into his body, there was a sudden crackle of lightning and the cacophonous boom of thunder...and to Kero's ears, the bugle of an Elk. The Lizardfolk cried out in pain , the rest startled and confused. Even they were aware a Green Grung couldn't, shouldn't be capable of such a thing. Their surprise lasted just long enough to allow Kero and the other mauraders to escape. Tale of the event spread to the higher castes, and he was brought before the Red Grung for testing. Upon confirmation of his ability to caste, his colour was ritually altered, and he was inducted into the Red Caste. Once he had been at the bottom of the tribe's social order, now he was so high up as to not even speak to his former caste directly. That's what the Purple Grung were for. Using his new authority, he quickly went about having a shrine to Elkathyrn constructed. A proper temple wouldn't fit in the boughs of the trees after all. From there he spent his days speaking of his dreams to all who would listen, attempting to impart their lessons to others, and prepare the tribe for disasters both natural and not. One night the vision of the great elk appeared before him in a dream, as it had many times before, but this time in a voice like the rush of wind and crash of thunder, it spoke. Kero had never heard the voice of his god, nor ever expected to. Elkathyrn warned him of a coming 'storm' and that to prepare his people for it he would have to travel far afield, further than any member of the tribe had ever gone, and find his (Elkathyrn's) 'kin'. The following morning, Kero packed up what supplies he required and departed without a word. Grung rarely left their home. Losing the advantage of the trees was bad enough, worse was the risk of dehydrating. He couldn't risk someone trying to stop him. Thus began his travels across the land, finding adventure and disaster, until signs of a storm brewing over the rolling hills of Wyvern Tor lead him a band of adventurers being brutalized by an ogre. This too was Elkathyrn's will.

Diety: Elkathyrn - Chaotic/Neutral Deity of Disaster (Both Natural & Otherwise) and Freedom Elkathyrn who cracks the ground and the sky. His antlers are branches of iron, they crack the rocks and bring down mountains. His hooves are the sound of thunder. His voice a howling gale. Disaster strikes down the wicked as easily as the virtious. The lucky or the prepared survive, heedless of morals. Followers view disasters as a test to be overcome, not just of themselves, but of people as a whole. Believe in opportunity as a result of disaster. Earthquakes revealing gold veins. Floods and volcanos bringing nutrients to soil, etc.

Frog/Kero Notes:

Will: - Boots of Springing and Striding - Violet - Lightbringer - Mya - Potion of Vitality - Rieta - 11-Gallon Hat of Liquid Storage - Nia - Bag of Holding (Containing 1400gp, 3 Diamonds worth 100gp each, Gold Bracelet worth 90gp, Platinum Ring worth 75gp, Carved Silver Ring worth 10gp, Ruby Eye of Moloch x2, Potion of Healing x7, Herbalism Kit, Alchemist Supplies, Glass Boyyles x9)- Violet

Goals: - To spread the name of Elkathyrn and the task given to him - To feel worthy of being a Red Caste. (Feels despite being elevated already, that he has to prove he's worthy of it for more than just having magic now.)

Likes: - Cooking (despite not strictly being any good.) - Safety. (Is used to almost dying, both before and after the party. Enjoys comfort/feeling genuinely safe.)

Habits: - Rubs piercing weapons across a scar under his right eye when attacking to coat them with poison.

- Inflates his throat sack when using Thunder Spells

- Frog snoring

- Will try to "collect" materials from dead beasts, insects, monstrocities, and oozes.

- Flees into the safety of trees when possible/necessary.

- Tries to protect the party whenever possible. Those that stand behind him foremost.

- Will keep trying to cook for people, believing it's better for their health and will keep them stronger. Sometimes throws in poisonous ingredients because he can't tell.

- Trying to spread the word and existence of Elkathyrn. Make Pamphlets and hand them out.

- Skeptical about being the first into a room, but also doesn't want others to go first.

- Chews with his eyes.

- Prays to Elkathyrn when he immerses himself daily in water.

Mentality:

- Seeing almost dying as par for the course.

- Slaver Society. Prefers to capture rather than kill, because why waste a good slave. - Views Prisoners/Convicted Criminals as Slaves.

- Shows utmost reverence to Grung of Higher Caste and Elkathyrn. Stands straightwe Looka directly at them without direct eyecontact.

- Seems himself as above anyone in a lower Caste. Behavior extends to Slaves and Prisoners of other cultures. Does not extend to normal citizens of other cultures, as he understands he doesn't have the same standing. Will immediately treat those beneath his station as "lower caste" if he obtains high standing among another culture.

- Has no calms about drugging or tricking people into service.

- Does however believe slaves should be protected and cared for, because a poorly cared for slave isn't as effective. All for controlling slaves through drugging or mindcontrol however.

- Will always do his best to prepare others for disasters if he is aware of them - Will always try to help those struck by a disaster rebuild or otherwise mend when and where he can.

- Highly suspicious of plant monsters or the possibility of plant monsters.

- Mixed feelings about Lizardmen (May cannabalize.)

- Will cannabalize Bullywugs.

- Respects Violet. Will protect her before others. - Views Nia as a Hunter - Tobi is his Water Monkey. Will protect last.

- HATES Bugbears now. Will not show any mercy. Appearance: 3 feet tall, 35 lbs, dark green-black eyes, red body with black splotches. Wears chainmail, with his hands and head wrapped in cloth/scarves to help keep him from accidentally making physical contact with people (due to Grung’s natural poison) though he revels in poisoning foes while casting Inflict Wounds. Wields a Shield and Morningstar, though he has a crossbow when he needs range.  He was vaguely based on these:

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Nanma?

Masterlist 

this fic is in my oneshots masterlist

summary: Jaskier's family tree is more complicated then either Geralt or Ciri realised, and with the way Geralt is eye fucking this newcomer its about to get a whole lot worse.

Warnings: 18+, No Smut, Suggestive themes, Swearing, Fluff, Humour, Almost a crack fic?

A/N: this has been in my drafts for a long loooonngg time and finally felt like finishing it. this is a oneshot and supposed to be corny/funny a little light hearted fun is all. I hope you all enjoy 🥰🥰

Taglist: in the reblogs.

You moved through the thick woods on the outskirts of town you were on edge. Nilfgardians were spotted in the area and that was bad. It meant it was open season on mages, the war was raging on and even though you were nowhere near the front lines you were in danger. All strong mages were. Your kind were being 'conscripted' for the Nilfgardians forces. Cannon fodder.

But you wasn’t running from them. No, you were hunting them. You'd have visions of death and destruction, Nilfgard was chaseing something. Hunting someone. And that someone had something to do with your family, had a connection to your precious boy!

He was here, passing though and was in danger, call it sixth sense or a maternal intuition. You just felt it, he was in real danger and you will not stand by. Nilfgard will rue the day they fucked with your loved ones.

Your legs moved faster, feet thundering on the ground as you hurried forward. Your skin prickling sensing the crackling in the air, there was strong magic around here. But it was nervous and unsure. Scared. Threatened. You growled following the tingling on your skin, the fizzling on your fingertips as you raced headfirst. You knew, you just knew that Jaskier was in trouble. The dreams were too frequent, both Nilfgard and your boy here at once was too much of a coincidence.  

When you’d encouraged him to be a bard and follow his dreams you never meant for him to become a bloody witchers pet! But after hearing the songs and tales of the powerful white wolf you relaxed. The man seemed like he was capable enough to contain your sweet bard.

You gasped as you heard them, you panicked shouts of Jaskier and a... girl? Before you could dwell on it you burst forth into an open trail skidding to a stop in between your sweet boy and two Nilfgardians. Mages they had already been casting, throwing some paralysis hex's- one had hit their target, you managed a second to glance at the girl. Blonde and frozen in place, terrified eyes flicking about as she seemed to realise, she was in trouble. You felt the pull of magic in front of you as the next spell was released and thrown at Jaskier whose entire face was both panicked and shocked.

"Oh no you fucking don’t!" You growled and managed to thwart the fairly weak hex. They were young and had nothing on you and your experience. The black clad mage panicked, obviously not prepared to be confronted. You didn’t give a second thought and set them ablaze, blue flames turning dark purple the centres becoming black. Chasing fire, forbidden magic but you didn't care. They tried to harm your boy. And now they’d pay. They were dead.

The other mages didn’t know what to do, one froze on the spot terrified and the other tried to run. Neither got away, the bright yet dark flames engulfed them managing to cremate them almost instantly, armour and all. You heaved and spun around seeing the hex ease on the girl but not release her. You approached her not paying any mind to Jaskier who had fell to the floor frightened and shocked. Blinking at you trying to confirm if it was really, you or not. And you don’t blame him. You hadn’t seen him for almost three years. Even before then your visits were short and scarce. His parents didn’t like you being around him- well his father didn’t, he had very radical ideas about mages he hated your kind.

Just as you were beside the blonde girl a fierce growl erupted from the bushes beside you and a huge angry Witcher ran at you, sword drawn and ready to kill if need be. You stopped moving and held your hands up in a surrendering gesture.

"Who are you?! Did you do that to her?! Speak!" He snarled pressing the blade to your throat slicing the skin in a shallow cut warning you he was not playing.

"Did you just try to cast axii on me?" You growled after feeling the pull. The weak spell causing your nose to twitch and skin to prickle. For a second Geralt faltered, had he? That wasn’t like him. Witchers very rarely accidentally cast, they were far too disciplined for that despite what people believed witchers didn’t like to cast on people, and even more so on mages it usually triggered an altercation... and as much as witchers hated it the mages usually whopped their asses.

"Tell me what the fuck you’re doing?! That’s forbidden magic! What did you do to Ciri!" He ignored you managing to brush off his surprize quickly choosing to snarl at you instead, showing the brutality that witchers were known for.

"Geralt, she didn’t cast on Ciri!" Jaskier said quickly coming to try and stand between you and stop the simmering tempers. But it was in vain as you managed to bat him to the side waving a hand at him

"What am I doing?! What are you doing! Leaving them alone to wander when Nilfgard is about! I saved them!" You growled locking onto the Witcher now having an outlet for your worry and rage. He should have been here protecting his group!

"Oh really?" The white wolf asked leaning forward towering over your slight frame, he was still on high alert his pupils eyes dilating and contracting making himself appear more menacing. you only stepped closer growling at him yourself growing more and more irritated.... and hot. Fuck he was hot, tall, and wide, a low raspy voice and stubble that added to his deep masculinity. Like a dusting of sugar on an already delectable looking cake. It was the kind of stubble you’d want to feel reddening your skin, the shadowed jawline that would be perfect for nuzzling... and riding.

"Yes really" you grunted at him with a smirk. His brow twitched and he inched backwards. This man thought you were a wee girl  fresh out of your schooling, he thought he could bully and frighten you. He was wrong, faltering humming blinking at you not quite sure what to do. You'd resisted his axii and hadn't caved to his posturing. It was actually a bit of a turn on for him, but then again, he always had a thing for powerful stubborn women. The ones who didn’t cower and hide but instead came at him head on with their own teeth bared ready to take a bite... His body flushed with need, bite? Fuck he’d definitely give you a mouthful if you asked~ his thoughts suddenly trailed down a different path, one that included only you and him... with much less clothing. It had been too long since he'd had a tumble with a fierce woman such as yourself.

It didn’t help that you were seething, growling back at him, crossing your arms under your bust pressing the mounds together and up without meaning to. You looked dangerous. And he loved it.

"From what? Because the only mage I see around here is you" he grunted out backtracking a little struggling to keep his mind on the situation and less on the way you were managing to make him back off as you craned your long slim neck up pushing against the biting steel without a care in the world. You were daring him, egging him on and calling his bluff.

"That’s because I fucking cremated the Nilfgardians that were attacking them! You know with the forbidden magic you saw?" You snapped stepping forward once more making him take a full step back furrowing his brow. You held your firm stance for a few seconds before retreating a few steps rolling your eyes at him.

"God, I thought you’d be a little smarter Witcher" you muttered and moved around him. Geralt stuttered and slowly dropped his sword. Just what the hell is going on? Had he lost his mojo? He watched you closely, for some reason Jaskier and Ciri didn’t feel threatened by you... Jaskier seemed more relaxed than he had ever been he'd never heard the bard heart rate so calm, it was as if he were asleep. Geralts eyes locked onto you once more trying to stop his mind wandering from the fact you were  beautiful and unfazed by him or his threats. It was strange but soothing, to have another person that isn’t frightened by him... but at the same time it was also incredibly frustrating. You rolled your eyes as you crouched next to the still paralysed girl on the floor raising your hands to put enough pressure on the binding magic.

"Oh fuck, no no no, please Geralt stop!" Jaskier lunged for the Witcher as he snapped out of his daze when you moved to touch Ciri.

"What are you doing to her?" Geralt cursed himself as his voice grew higher in panic. It wasn’t that he truly thought you’d hurt her but... That spell was powerful and you’d done it effortlessly. So, he wasn’t sure what to do, or what to think. He knew he couldn’t undo the spell on Ciri himself, it was hard for him to trust anyone! Least of all a new face- a powerful mage that was a realistic beauty she had imperfections! Actual imperfections which seemed to make her even more beautiful to him, beautiful enough to get her own way... the pretty ones were always more cunning, more trouble than they were worth.

"I’m trying to release the hex you idiot" you hissed trying to keep an eye on the mountain of a man but also concentrate on slowly pulling at the spell, it was like tugging the loose ends on a fraying piece of fabric, a slow plucking until the magic itself dissipated and the spell broke.

"Geralt please don’t pick this fight" Jaskier said coming between you both arms raised and waving as Geralt heaved the sword pointing it at your turned back.

"Fuck! Jaskier what are you doing?! Get back! Mages casting like that are dangerous! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM CIRI!?" Geralt faltered panic rising as he tried to protect Ciri and pull Jaskier out of harm’s way. He didn’t want to swing and accidentally hit Jaskier.

"Shes not a threat- Geralt stop put your sword down she won’t hurt us" Jaskier shouted still shielding you, now fighting as Geralt grasped his jerkin and began pulling trying to get the bard out of the way so he could strike.

"How can you be so sure?" Geralt snapped worriedly as he watched you move over Ciri.

"Because your bard is my god damned grandson!" You finally hissed over your shoulder growing tired of his bitching. Thankfully the Witcher seemed to be reeling from your admission and blinked slowly going quiet before frowning. You huffed shaking your head and continued lifting the hex slowly so the girl didn’t get any cramps or pulls from being released so quickly.

"What?" Geralt finally breathed out still frozen on the spot growling flicking his eyes between you and Jaskier... Yes, there was definitely some resemblance

Whilst the Witcher managed to rattled his brain standing stiffly soaking up the information and flick his golden gaze from you to your grandson and back again you got to work and concentrated. Unpicking this spell was difficult, not that the spell was particularly strong or complicated,  but this girl had magic. Untamed and powerful. And for the life of her she didn’t know how to undo this spell but was trying, she was fighting it, lashing out at the spell trying to overcome it and force it to yield. You frowned and placed a hand to her crown before speaking to her.

"No no don’t fight it, you’ll cramp and be in all sorts of pain, just relax and let me unweave it..." you said to the girl who was beginning to wriggle as her body loosened and she regained feeling. She paused and whined quietly blinking at you in what you assumed was her small 'please don’t hurt me' this was a child who had been through too much, she has been hurt and betrayed.

"Shh it’s okay, I’m just moving slowly. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, a freind of my grandsons is a friend of mine. Spells like this need coaxing dear, you need to unthread it. Not claw at it. Now just relax I’ll have you back to normal before you know it" you encouraged quietly speaking in soft calm voice like you would a young child. She seemed to understand and finally gave in, it was like a curtain being lifted, her magic no longer trying to fight you. After that you managed to release it completely and with one mighty gasp the girl sat up panting and moved clutching her head clearly shaken from her ordeal.

"See I told you, I just released her from the hex; without letting her get cramps... no need to thank me" you said smugly as you turned to face the Witcher standing before offering the girl a hand helping her stand beside you. She was pale and looked uneasy-shocked but she was unharmed and that was the main thing

He turned looking more closely as Ciri was hissing moving around slowly trying to get feeling back into her limbs she sat up thanking you. You smiled and stood up holding a handout to the girl before turning to face the famed white wolf.

Jaskier inched closer and stood beside you face softening as Geralt finally seemed to calm down. Okay there was a lot of resemblance now that he saw you both standing side by side, you looked like a feminine copy of the bard slightly more refined nose and prominent cheek bones, your skin was dappled with more freckles and your eyes were more intense. The main differences were your gender and your eyes, Jaskier’s were... light kind and held a certain endearing stupidity, like a naive child? You on the other hand  had an old soul lurking in the bright blues, years of wisdom trap inside those only older mages had. Both you and Jaskier could see the witchers questioning gaze, head as the white wolf growled snapping at you both trying to call you liars pointing his sword at you again angrily. it would appear this particular Witcher was confused and he didn’t enjoy being confused you chuckled and shook your head rolling your eyes. Witcher’s, mages bards they were all the same in the end just a bunch of stupid growly prideful  Men.

"Its true Geralt- it’s complicated just? Put the sword down before she gets annoyed! You don’t want her to get angry- you think Yennefer is bad? She has nothing on Nanma!" Jaskier pleaded hand raised trying to placate the Witcher.

Geralts eyes flicked to you then Jaskier his head spinning. Geralt knew when Jaskier was lying to him. And right now, the bard was being honest. But how? How the fuck did a mage have a biological grandson? Or was this a child of surprise deal? Sometimes fate plays twisted tricks and children of surprize can actually look like their soul parents... maybe yours had been one of those rare instances.

"I? Thank you... I’m sorry I’m not used to... this?" Geralt finally uttered feeling like a complete ass looking away as he sheathed his sword. You smirked if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the white wolf looked a little sheepish. The thought made you giggle rolling your eyes.

"What you mean people helping? I’m not surprized with that stab first attitude be sure to sort it out before we get back" you quipped stepping towards him with a scoff.

"Back?" Jaskier muttered slowly dread seeping into his tone. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you because he did... but he wasn’t too thrilled about taking his friends back to grandma’s house for a while... you’d embarrass him no doubt!

You crossed your arms eyeing him coolly letting him know this wasn’t up for discussion. You’d made up your mind and he wouldn’t be changing it

"Of course, I’m not leaving you out here alone tonight this place will be swarming with Nilfgardians now that those two wont report back" you said plainly managing a small scoff and roll of your eyes before pining your grandson with your gaze. A gaze he knew all too well, daring him to argue with you.

"Come along follow me my house isn’t far you can stay with me and lay low" you said finally turning away from Jaskier who remained silent... until you turned away from him that is.

"Nanma we are fine- there’s a tavern in the town-" he whined only finding the nerve to argue when you were no longer staring him down. You paused and pivoted blinking at him incredulous keeping him on his toes before quirking an eyebrow. You could see Geralt tilting his head smirking folding his own arms across the wide leather clad chest. He was amused, watching Jaskier try to behave was always funny, the bard was just that! A bard always running his mouth, rarely silent. Jaskier was always making sarcastic quips, bitching, arguing, complaining, and genuinely talking himself into trouble, very rarely out of it.

"Full of harlots I presume? No. Jaskier your coming home with me and having a decent meal, bath and some actual sleep" you countered with a tilt of your head peaking at him from the top of your eyes giving him a mum look.

"B-but nanma?" He stuttered clearly trying to save face in front of his friends. But you were having none of it, it wasn’t safe out here for any of them and you’d not here another word about it!

"Do not 'but nanma' me child. You've got eye baggies, a little too skinny and smell like horse! Now get!" You scolded pointing in the direction of your home with a stern look. He sighed cheeks flushing as you waited makeing him pass you with an exaggerated huff resulting in you to quickly tap your grandsons ass with your boot prompting him to yelp and cover his hide peaking at you over his shoulder flushing brighter.

With that you were on your way the new group in toe following the path to your home. A quick high whistle rang out making you look to the Witcher who nodded to your right. Turning you were greeted with a large mare. Clearly geralts horse if the griffins head on her flank was anything to go by. You were impressed she was well trained to have found you so deep in the woods from just one whistle.

"Nanma?" The young girl spoke up curiously as she stepped up beside as you all made your way deeper into the woods just off the trail to a hidden one that drew you closer to towards your home. You nodded to her smiling kindly.

"I look like his older sister. grandma can raise eyebrows and then people suspect I’m a mage which leads to uncomfortable conversations... it’s getting more and more dangerous being a mage outside of eritusa.  but I don’t expect you to call me that call me y/n" you briefly explained, she hummed before gasping quickly and introducing herself.

"Y/n... I’m Ciri and that’s Geralt" she introduced politely you nodded and glanced at Geralt quickly. So, you were correct, this is the Witcher your grandson had attached himself to.

"Well, it’s nice to meet you Ciri, are you hurt?" You asked quickly glancing over her. You were worried, Nilfgard were cruel and you wouldn’t put anything past them, they could have tampered with the spell. Modified it to have other effects, you hadn’t felt anything but... Nilfgard was Nilfgard.

"No I... Was shocked I’m not normally caught unaware" the girl said looking down as if she were ashamed. You sighed and patted her shoulder lightly.

"Oh, don’t you worry it happens to the best of us" you reassured not wanting her to beat herself up over it. You could tell she needed more confidence, and hopefully she won’t let this little hiccup eat away at her.

"Holy- nanma that’s..." Jaskier began as he saw your fair-sized home. A three-story grey brick home with single turret. It had been fashioned to look like a gate house. Sturdy and fortified in its own right and cost a pretty penny. There was a secure stone stable attached to the side and a reasonable sized walled garden out the back. It had once been full of ingredients to brew potions and elixirs that you sold to the local traders. But now with Nilfgardians scouring the hills it wasn’t safe, so it was mostly vegetables and fruit. You didn’t like wandering to town in these uncertain times and tried to be self-sufficient.

"Ah yes... you've not been to this cottage before, have you?" You said wandering passed him to the small hidden homestead.

"That’s not a cottage! That’s a bloody? I don’t know what it is! But cottages aren’t that big nor do they have turrets!" Jaskier pointed out which made you roll your eyes. So, you had a turret, you were allowed to indulge every once in a while!

"It’s only four bedrooms Jaskier" you said leading them all into the garden to the home that would be nice and warm. The home had inscribed runes and spells on the walls to help preserve heat even when the fire had died.

"And the rest?" Jaskier asked still peaking up at the structure surprized... this wasn’t the typical 'grandmas cottage in the woods' as your last home had been. A little cute, thatched home with lots of sweet-smelling flowers surrounding it... this was a home built to withstand attacks, it worried him to an extent. Was his grandmother waiting to be attacked?  

"Separate kitchen and living space, small alchemy come library, a basement... and a stone bath washroom"

"A built-in washroom?" Ciri asked beaming at the idea of a proper luxurious bath maybe with some bath oils and salts! Decent ones hopefully. You grinned watching as she got excited, it must be horrible travelling with two men. You doubt bathing properly was a regular thing. Men just didn’t understand.

"Well yes... a floor bath I like being clean, and besides the hot bath helps heat the rest of the house... Geralt the stable is fully stocked help yourself to anything your horse may need you can come straight inside through the door on your left" you added nodding to the Witcher who tipped his head gratefully swerving off to the side leading roach to the warm stall that was already set up for her with feed. Afterall, you had known about this meeting for a while from visions it was obvious there would be a horse staying with you.

Ten minutes later you were all in the large kitchen, cloaks off and sitting down with tea as the stew you made yesterday was reheating over the huge hearth.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking... How are you a grandmother when... you know you’re a mage?" Ciri piped up quickly asking what was on the tip of geralts tongue aswell. You grinned at her sitting down cradling you own warm cup.

"Wow your very direct aren’t you, I like it no time for bullshit" you praised her making her blush and preen. You really did like the kid already; she was a headstrong little thing. She would go far if she held on to that grit.

"I thought it was impossible, you give it up for your... transformation" Geralt added thoughtfully waving a hand over the table motioning vaguely. He seemed far off looking through you, as if thinking of something else. Someone else.

"Yes, it is impossible after your transformation... I was married off young. And gave birth to Jaskier’s mother when I was sixteen... But my conduit moment was when I was twenty-one" you spoke plainly with a shrug. In all honestly it was a ridiculously simple situation. Many who did find out believed you'd achieved the impossible brewed a potion, used a djinn, or found a loophole.

Many mages came to you, sought you out hoping to find a way, a cure. But all were dissapointed in the end. You felt sorry for them, but at the same time envious. It’s all well and good having a child, the joy of birthing and raising one... but now your daughter was old and becoming frail, she would die and you would remain. You will outlive many generations of your own bloodline and have to watch them pass. It was not a fate you wished on anyone. Even Jaskier, your precious boy was ageing, soon it would begin to show.

"So, you had a child before you got to eritusa?" Ciri asked pulling you from the slightly morbid thoughts. You nodded quickly to her, thankful for the distraction.

"Yes. When my conduit moment happened, I left to begin my studies and that’s that" you said trying to bring the conversation to a close. You really wanted to avoid the who’s what’s and where’s if you could. It was annoying recounting the same story over and over. The past was the past, you lived into moment otherwise you’d go mad.

"So, you must be almost as old as me?" Geralt mused thoughtfully. You watched closely as he tried to add the years together and figure out just how old you were. You smirked into your cup; he was quite cute with that little look of concentration on his rugged face.

"Yes, she is ancient" Jaskier announced laughing through a mouthful of stew that he had been inhaling. For all the whining of being dragged here he didn’t seem to mind the food.

"Not ancient enough to be out run Jaskier, you couldn’t outrun me as a boy and you won’t be able to now” you threatened sternly snapping your gaze to him. He paused comically and shrunk into his seat slowly bringing the spoon to his open mouth watching you for any sign you were going to move towards him. He was ready to bolt, the last thing he wanted was to face the wrath of your slipper. The very same pair of slippers he'd encountered as a child were by the fireplace as always.

"You used to chase him?" Ciri asked between mouthfuls drawing your attention away from the bard who visibly relaxed once he was out of the hot seat. You smiled to the girl; it was nice knowing she had your grandsons back even against you.

"God yes all the time, he was a little rug rat. He used to run all over the place naked. I'd be in my room and suddenly see something run past my door, I’d go to check and low behold there he is running down the corridor bottom bared for all the world to see. He hated pants of any kind." You giggled recounting the many struggles of trying to help raise Jaskier, he was a stubborn smart ass even back then.

Geralt chuckled into his meal with a shake of his head. It was clear the Witcher had a few thoughts of his own about Jaskier’s antics. He didn’t seem surprized to hear about Jaskier’s troublesome aversion to pants.

"Nanma!? Don’t tell them that!" The bard sputtered cheeks tinting pink as the others smirked and laughed at the story.

"He isn’t much different now, prefers being in women’s skirts then his own pants" Geralt said with a shit eating grin trying to tattle tale on Jaskier. This may be the only time the white wolf can get a little payback and id up his dumbass crier, and he wasn’t about to waste it.

"Ge-Geralt shut up!" Jaskier’s outburst was ignored bar from a quirk of your brow instantly reminding the boy to mind his manners and stop yelling at the table. Jaskier sighed and dug his spoon into the stew in a huff pulling the now loaded utensil to his mouth and continued eating. You nodded once and turned back to Geralt.

"Trust me, I'm well aware of just what he gets up to" you said with a sharp edge both chiding and teasing Jaskier. For a second Jaskier completely forgot the others were there and pouted before snipping at you still looking at his food.

"I bet you don’t, I mean how long has it been nanma?" The words were grumpy, not meant to upset you but ruffle your feathers. I that moment Jaskier was little more then a pouting child embarrassed at being scolded in front of his friends.

"Jaskier dear. Geralt is older than me" you said deciding to deal with his little strop differently this time. Geralt frowned at you wondering what he had to do with this. But you grinned wickedly at him with a mischievous look that even Jaskier hadn’t managed before.

"Yes and?" Jaskier huffed looking at you unimpressed all but rolling his eyes.

"And I assume that he has sex?" You added Geralt huffed a laugh already seeing where this was going but for some reason Jaskier was still stupid enough to nod at you confused- completely oblivious to the little trap you’d just walked him into. Sometimes Geralt really did wonder about his bard.

"So, what makes you think I don’t?" You grinned and leant forward sipping your tea again, spying him from the top of your eyes. Ciri burst out laughing almost pitting her mouthful and Geralt hmm'd in approval smirking. But Jaskier? He yelled out squealing.

"What?- ew my god, no! That’s disgusting!" Your grandson snapped face glowing and stuttering hissing at you to stop being vulgar and 'act your age' you paused and tilted your head. Disgusting? That’s a bit harsh.

"Excuse me child?" You said quietly. All the noise stopped at your tone. Cool and firm, but calm. Jaskier faltered and both Geralt and Ciri watched closely waiting to see how this was going to go down.

"Oh come- it was a joke nanma you know your beautiful... please don’t look at me like that" Jaskier back tracked laughing nervously leaning his hands on the table ready to bolt once more. Jaskier loved you he really really did; you were always behind him encouraging him more than his actual parents. You'd never tell him it was partly because they feared he was also a mage as a child. This fear drove them to try and confine him, he spent lots of time with you until it was clear he was not a mage, it turns out he was just a clever intuitive little boy.

That had been when your daughter allowed her husband to be rid of you sending you away now your help wase no longer needed. In the early years Jackie had spent more time with you then his siblings and friends.

"Are you sucking up Jaskier?" Ciri asked wiping her mouth with a small giggle. She was enjoying seeing this childish side to him,  not that he was and 'adult' adult normally. But he lacked his smug pettiness and was dare she say behaving himself.

"He does this all the time trust me. But coming back to your question Geralt I’m not quite as old as you... I’m only seventy-one... or two. I’m not entirely sure I think in may have lost a year somewhere" you chuckled to Ciri whose eyes widened in shock. It was clear the girl hadn’t expected you to be that old... you'd be older than her grandmother if she was still alive.

"No that’s... it’s impossible. You not even ageing like a mage" Geralt purred crossing his arms over his chest. Your age shocked even him. Mages do age but don’t change much, minute details in their skin, hands and nails normally give them away. But with you there were no tell-tale signs even to his trained eye. It was enticing him even further you were entirely unique. Not vapid or docile it was clear you hadn’t left your schooling to be a little trinket for a kings court. You were an old school mage, content with having magic, honing your skill but not for glory or vanity like most did. He could respect that, he understood you were both a dieing breed

"Oh, you flatterer~ I had good genes to start with, look at Jaskier! Almost forty and still a baby face" you blushed giggling at the Witcher who was openly staring at you, drinking in your form with slow sweeping golden eyes. His pupils widening further then a humans should, giving away the fact he liked what he saw. Good, that made two of you.

"It’s not our genes you fed me a bloody witches brew" Jaskier scoffed rolling his eyes at you whilst throwing down the half-eaten bread roll.

"I did no such thing!" You snapped at him annoyed he had interrupted you undressing the wotcher with your eyes. You’d just began picturing the huge males firm torso and your grandson had to ruin it.

"I really didn’t. He stole a trial rejuvenation potion to prove to his little friends I was a mage" you continued looking to Geralt and Ciri with an exasperated sigh. You would explain the full story to them so hopefully they don’t think the worst of you.

"They dared him to drink it, the boy was stupid enough to do it!"

"Jaskier, you didn’t?" Geralt huffed tilting his head defeated knowing that the bard most definitely had.

"Oh yes he did! His father threw a fit" you nodded crossing your own arms, elevating your bust just enough to press the two mounds together teasing the Witcher whose eyes constantly drifted to them. You shuddered as Geralt’s low rumble echoed in your ears. God yes~ he was a mountain of a man, a true refined wild beast. And you couldn’t help but warm for him. Your body was already awakening, your slit dampening your smalls.

Geralt inhaled and snapped his head to you , catching the scent. You didn’t look at him, instead you faced Ciri but clenched once more at the growl the Witcher released making it clear he knew exactly waht was happening below your skirts.

"...So that’s why your all" Ciri trailed off waving as Jaskier trying to bite off a grin.

"Young? Handsome? A gift to women kind?" Jaskier boasted closing his eyes practically dripping with a cheerful pride. You and Ciri shared a look.

"Yes deary, whatever you say" you huffed agreeing with him. It was easier to let him have some of his delusions~ Jaskier just pouted, though this time he kept his mouth shut.

"... did you ever slip him anything else?... That might have lasting side effects?" Geralt asked more interested in having your eyes back on him then actually wanting an answer. You flicked your gaze back to him and gasped. He was man spreading, his chair had been pushed back and the beefy male was all but doing the split in his chair. Thick taught thighs clad in the tight leather front breeches either side of the chair, knees pointing east and west...your gaze travelled north~

Of fuck~ you bit your lip and looked up quickly needing to pull your eyes away from the massive bulge that sat between the meaty thighs. One of his hands scratched absentmindedly on his tummy before dropping to his thigh.

"P-potions? No... the only other thing that happened when he was with me was, he fell off my horse" you stuttered but quickly caught yourself and managed somehow to look at his face pretending to focus but the reality was you were miles away. Mind reeling from studying the witchers... southern peak. Geralt smirked wolfishly, a fanged grin and sparkle to his eyes. He had you already, you wasn’t even trying to fight him. You were drawn to him as he was you. Two unique moths drawn to the same tantalising flame.

"What? No, I didn’t?"

"Yes, you did love, you were about four at the time. There was a  butterfly attack it flew in his face and he freaked out and through himself off the horse. I couldn’t hold him and it happened so quick! He fell landing on his little noggin" you recounted enjoying sharing the stories of you and Jaskier, spending his childhood with him was the most precious time of your life. You hadn’t been able to raise his mother going to eritusa when she was only a few months old and not returning until she was in her early teenage years.

"Ah that explains a lot" Geralt teased sending Jaskier a smug look.

"Indeed. At the time I brushed it of he was fine, landed on grass but as he got older? Well, who can tell?" You uttered deciding to poke some more fun at your grandson.

"You let me fall of a horse?!" Was the screeching reply. He was well and truly offended.

"I didn’t let you do anything! I didn’t know you were terrified of butterflies! You just through yourself out of my arms... besides the horse want that big, more of a pony to be perfectly honest" you mused shrugging. Even if the fall had lasting effects, it was too late to do anything about it now.

"You’re scared of butterflies?" Geralt laughed wheezing slightly as he tried to stop his chuckles. Ciri however roared with laughter at the prospect of someone being frightened by butterflies.

"No-no I am not! I just didn’t like them flapping in my face!" Jaskier quickly defended himself flushing red. He couldn’t help it he was a child!

"He used to run off screaming, I had to cut down all the plants that attracted them to my garden. Apart from that incident the only thing slip him occasionally is a poultice to stop any unexpected great grandchildren popping up" you came clean with a shrug making Ciri lean to the side peeling with laughter. It was good you got the feeling she was so... serious it'd do the girl good to have a good laugh. You’d be lying if you hadn’t also explained to try and get another deep chuckle from the Witcher~ any rumbling sound from him was worth your grandsons ire.

"Y-you what!? How could you- when!?" Jaskier yelled throwing his hands out clapping hands with his bowl sending it across the table tipping over wildly and dumping the last dregs of the stew over Geralt.

The Witcher bolted up and cussed at Jaskier who offered a weak apology.  You huffed fixing your grandson with a look and nodded to the cloth on the kitchen bench behind him.

"Jaskier clean up your mess... and while I’m on the topic of cleaning I want you all to bring me your dirtied clothes after supper I will start some laundry tonight"  you announced only to turn hearing Geralt began shuffling. You gapsed and flustered  watching with bated breath as the witchers deft fingers loosened the buttons of his shirt and began shrugging out of it.

Fuck he has hair~ as if he couldn’t be any more attractive the man had a perfect dusting of chest hair trailing down his godly form. Your mouth ran dry and your smalls almost soaked through! It was a welcome sight, Geralt was a masterpiece it was an absolute travesty he couldn’t pass on his genes, a male this gorgeous would have made perfect sons. A bloodline of stunning males stolen from generations of women it really was a shame. But then again, their loss was your gain~.  Jaskier’s indignant squeal, ordering him to redress made you snap out of your ab induced daze.

"I no-Geralt I didn’t mean now; I okay just err just give it here I will start a pile..." you began to protest but give up as he folded the shirt in his hand and looked to you, asking what to do with it. You held out your hand with a tiny tremble in  your fingers. Geralt passed you his shirt with a wolfish grin, grazing your hand with his fingers leaving a blazing trail of fire just below, skin both heating and prickling at the feather light touch.

You bit your lip releasing a shaky breath locking eyes with the might beast slayer. A wolf indeed, fur and all~ you couldn’t help but peak to see just how far the hair reached on his torso. Seeing the abs almost free but for a few thin spars hairs somehow made him all the sweeter to look at.

You flushed as he cleared his throat drawing your eyes back to his smug angular face. The curve of his lip taught as it pulled back revealing a fang. Dear god, it was sharp enough to pierce skin somehow you knew this wolfs bite was going to just as erotic and sensual as his bark~ You spun on your heel shirt in hand to throw in the laundry tub, might aswell begin soaking the shirt now it was heavy with sweat and blood no doubt thankfully the horse odour masked any other foul smells.

"Geralt stop it!" Jaskier hissed across the table leaning over the wood pointing a threatening dainty finger at the Witcher after his grandmother left the room. Geralt tipped his head and smirked coyly.

"Hm Stop what?" He said innocently with a shrug only wincing slightly at the pull of a new scare on his shoulder.

"Stop making eyes at my fucking grandmother!?" The bards words were panicked and angry. His little larks feathers were ruffled, it was funny, cute watching how worried Jaskier was over you. But Geralt was hooked and on the hunt, he wanted you. So desperately that he was shook, it was similar to Yennefer but this time there was no djinn involved. Geralt smirked to himself wondering just how appalled Jaskier would be when found Geralt naked in bed with you tomorrow morning. Because Geralt was going to have you tonight and every night he stayed here. There was no doubt about it, who knows maybe you could tag along for a while, you had a positive effect on Jaskier.

"I wasn’t making eyes at her" Geralt smiled again slyly feigning a look of confusion then innocence it was glorious  not only was he going to woo you, but he could also frustrate Jaskier in the process.

"Yes, you were! I mean it stop! And put a shirt on!" Jaskier continued to have his rant, trying to intimidate the Witcher but failed miserably all the bard did was goad the man on. Geralt felt even more inclined to annoy the smaller male, rub it in a little bit before truly getting down to business. And by business he meant swaying a certain madge to bed down with him for the night.

"I don’t have another" was the response Jaskier got. A dismissive answer paired with a shit eating grin and half bitten off chuckle. The bard took a few seconds breathing deeper trying to think of another way to convince the stubborn ass across from him to stop his bullshit. But this was Geralt of rivia, there were no work arounds with him. The only thing Jaskier could do is try to wear him down by bitching and whinning until Geralt had enough and finally carved. Jaskier could do it, but normally it took a few days and this time he didn’t have a few days. He had about half and hour maybe? So he really had to get cracking.

"Yes. You. Do. Geralt!" Jaskier huffed puffing his chest out trying to square up to the monster hunter across from him. After all he had the safety of the table between them, Geralt would have to walk around and luckily the exit to the rest of the house was behind him. Meaning he could dart out of the kitchen to hide somewhere if Geralt did decided to give chase.

"No, I don’t it got... lost" geralts purred glancing over his shoulder at the door you’d exited through when he heard you muttering to yourself, a small pep talk to ‘snag yourself a Witcher’

"Lost?! More like stuffed down the bottom of your bag! Go get it!" Jaskier scoffed tipping his head trying to look stern. But he missed, it was hard to look stern when he was as dainty and… welp like. A cute runt trying to face off against a mighty wolf.

"Why?" Geralt asked shrugging, so he may have stuffed the shirt further down in his pack when out in the stables with roach… and it could possibly have something to do with wanting to lure you to his bed tonight, women just cant resist a battled hardened torso and scars~ it was in their DNA, the hunter gatherer type instinct.

"Because your half naked in my nanmas kitchen! And she doesn’t need to see your fucking nipples!" Jaskier growled looking to the door you’d left in hoping to have his freind dressed and presentable by the time you came back. Because the bard really really didn’t want to see you both eye fucking one another again. He had seen it before, geralts eye fucking only lasted a few minutes before he seduced his pray. And Jaskier was determined not to let his friend and grandmother bunk up!

"Do nipples offend her?" Geralt huffed his mischievous streak really kicking in. The Witcher was having the time of his life this was the most fun he'd had in years... and he might get his end off aswell, this was great!

"No, they don’t-" Jaskier began only to stop seeing the small smirk and playfull hmm making the bard pale. And draw in a deep breath.

"Oh god- no! Don’t you dare!" The pure panic in Jaskier’s voice was enough to make Ciri burst out laughing holding er sides in slight pain. The girl couldn’t help it, Geralt was clearly toying with him... wasn’t he? With that doubt her laughter tapered ff and she frowned slightly. Geralt wouldn’t really bed Jaskier’s grandmother... would he?

"Dare what? What are you talking about?" The Witcher smiled giving another little huff.

"I know that look Geralt! Your eyes are doing the thing!" Ciri looked to her soul fathers eyes at Jaskier’s outcry. They were playfull and twinkling  strangely. A dark playfulness she'd not yet seen on his face before, was this his smoulder? Ew.

"What thing?" Geralt huffed leaning his head back against the chairs back stretching his legs crossing his ankles making sure to display himself like hung meet, everything on show through his breeches. He was posing for your return.

"The glowy thing when you’re about to try and lure someone to bed!" Jaskier seethed quietly, Ciri covered her mouth ew, it was his smoulders Geralt really was going to? Sure, she knew that he was attractive but... no. Just not so far traveling with him had been such a frantic affair he had not stopped off at any of those taverns or been near enough to be intimate with anyone. He was completely preoccupied in keeping them all alive. It would appear now they had some safety the Witcher was not against satisfying his... urges. Not that she had a dislike for you but... old people having sex? No thank you.

"Boys is everything okay?" You asked as you re-entered the room. Jaskier looked flustered and pale. While Geralt was all smiles, stretched out completely at ease by the look of it, sprawled out as he was.

"Perfect, Jaskier was just... being Jaskier" the wolf preened nodding to the bard who was glaring at the Witcher who laughed to himself.

"Oh, Jaskier I'd prefer it if you didn’t get excited at the table" you chided softly closeing the door behind you stepping to the table again.

"But nanmaaa?"

"No buts Jaskier..." your voice was firm with the man child who was pouting, growing fussy and would soon start whingeing at you. It was only a raised brow and few seconds before he proved you right and began mewling like a child.

"But he is makeing eyes at you! And he's half naked!" Jaskier’s whine made both you and Geralt coo at him teasingly, like a child being told no for the first time. You shifted a little closer to the enticing Witcher and leant over resting your hands on the table, propping your ass out more then you needed to just to tease the male at your side.

"I am well aware of his state of dress Jaskier, I haven’t complained yet have I? And Your handsome friend can make eyes at me as much as he wants~" you spoke locking eyes with Jaskier watching as his face dropped from a childish pout to  look of morbid horror.

"No! No noo! He can’t!" Jaskier panicked slapping a palm on the table in frustration like a child only to jerk it back up hissing shaking the hand. It was amusing watching your grandson grow more and more irritated glancing at you both sourly.

"Geralt! Geralt stop it! I mean it!" Jaskier directing his attention to the Witcher as he chuckled in his chair, groaning stretching like a cat drawing attention to the hard muscles of his abdomen. Your mouth ran dry as you spied the glorious chest pleasantly dusted with the curls you wanted to graze your nipples, teasing them until raw. You’d find great satisfaction twiddling the downy curls between your fingers after a few bouts of wild sex.

"Oh? You think I’m handsome?" Geralt purred voice dropping into a sinful deep velvet tone that many women had definitely fallen prey to. God this man probably didn’t even need to use whores with that delicious siren song of his, it was much more dangerous then axii! You'd do just about anything to have that deep baritone voice being growled into your skin. And that was saying something.

"You say that like you don’t know~" you said back looking over your shoulder fluttering your lashes at him, partly to toy with your grandson but also to see of the man was serious. Because you'd ride this stunning Witcher off into the sunset if you had a chance.

"Ew no no lalalalalalalaaa I’m not hearing this! This isn’t happening!" Jaskier suddenly became all of twelve years old again covering his ears and singing loud and off key trying to drown out the 'icky' oldies trying to hit it off. Ciri found it strange tore between giggling behind her hand and gagging as you and Geralt made a show of flirting in front of Jaskier.

"I don’t hear it very often, well not from beautiful mages" Geralt added with a lopsided grin showing off a fanglike canine. You shuddered, fuck yes! The more you saw of that threatening fang the more you wanted to be bitten by this wolf, wanted to succumb to him and his wicked ways and be devoured in every way imaginable~ it would be the best fuck you'd ever get!

"Pity, you should come around more often, I’d tell you every morning" you purred upping your game trying to hint that you would welcome him to your bed anyday with open arms, legs, and mouth~

"Morning?" Geralt quipped in a sultry voice making sure to add a growly rasp that the ladies liked so much and wriggle his brow at you making a show of his less than pure intentions.

"Oh Yes even a big burly Witcher should start the day right. Compliments and kisses. And if that doesn’t sate you appetite, I have many alternative wake up calls~" you continued partly because you wanted to torture Jaskier, and partly because you were a horny mage who wants nothing more than to fuck this Witcher senseless and then snuggle and smother him with love and affection... you wondered if he liked back scratches? Maybe belly rubs. You swallowed eyeing his abs again. God, you hoped he liked belly rubs!

"Nanma no! That’s enough. H-he tried to hurt you. Remember? An hour ago, he was going to cut you down where you stood?" Jask tried his hardest to intervene but your kind was made up. You were going to ride the mighty golden eyed beast. Repeatedly. Jaskier frowned growing more frustrated with your blatant ignorance... and the fact you were sending Geralt a half lidded lusty look, biting your lip and grinning like the cat who got the cream! There will be no cream exchange on his watch!

"Y-you can’t honestly think about him like that. Hold a grudge or something don’t just? Flirt with him!" He cried again almost hysterical as it dawned on him you were probably serious. Jaskier didn’t think Geralt would hurt you, or vice versa. But it was weird, he best friend and grandmother? No!

"No no, flirt I like it~" Geralt purred moving faster than any of you could fathom managing to drag you back to sit in his lap. You gasped and then giggled as he wound his thick arms around you. His warmth encompassed you instantly, the hard thighs below you were like thick tree trunks of hard flesh. You squeaked as the Witcher held you tighter dragging your back to his torso, breath panting at the nape of your neck. You turned to him out of instinct to ask what he was doing but paused when  you met the half-lidded legendry amber eyes. Bedroom eyes if you ever saw them, and they held so much promise, the promise of a hidden pleasure that was to die for.

"Geralt! I swear to God! Stop it!" Jaskier screeched making to stand up only to huff and puff unsure what to do. Jaskier couldn’t exactly stop the two of you, you were adults and he really had no qualms... apart from it'd just be a bit weird and annoying... and possibly bring up more embarrassing stories of his childhood.

"Stop what? Your grandmothers flirting with me, remember" Geralt purred, you hummed trembling, hissing under your breath his lip and stubble grazed your sensitive skin.

"Indeed, Jaskier and besides that little spat back there was just a little foreplay~" You shifted once more drawing a sharp breath in, you could feel the bulge below you, the throbbing hardness that was nestled between his large spread thighs. You tensed your bottom giving the Witcher a subtle tease of what was to come later if he continued with this dangerous game, a game you were fully prepared to finish, several times~.

"F-foreplay? Oh my god no! No, it- he wasn’t playing about with you nanma, he meant it!" it was almost sad how hard he was trying to stop what ever was brewing between you and Geralt. Didn’t he realise him making such a fuss was going to spur you both on? He couldn’t be that stupid. Or was he being smart and trying to set you up? You’d probably never know with Jaskier there was a fine line between his genius and his idiocy and at times you doubt even he could tell which side of the line he was.

"I know~ I always did enjoy the rough and ready man" you hummed making a show of wriggling on geralts lap drawing an grunt from the male below you. You giggled girlishly as he leant forward rubbing his light stubble over your neck breathing in through his nose, nostrils flaring at the smell of your arousal.

"Lucky for you I’m definitely ready~" he boasted arching his hips making you gasp feeling the hefty bulge grind along your ass again with promise.

"Oh please don’t tease me Witcher~ It’s a rare treat that I actually catch the eye of an older man!" you purred back twisting slightly on geralts lap as Jaskier continued screeching in the background like a banshee and poor Ciri didn’t know what to do with herself, she’d never seen Geralt like this before.

"Oh, you like older men?" the rumbling voice echoed through your own chest when he tugged you back again. It was thrilling, the more you flirted the more you prayed Geralt wasn’t just playing around to annoy Jaskier. You didn’t think he was, he has needs and it must have been a while since he has seen to them.

"Yes, though they are fewer and fewer. Boys nowadays have no skill; they are selfish and lazy never seem to get there?" you rambled wistfully. And it was true, the men you’d lain with had all been rather dull. Even the newer mages were stingy getting all bent out of shape when you mentioned magic in the bed room or herbs the spice things up! You doubt Geralt will be dull even without tricks and herbs.

"Oh my god! No, we do not need to hear any of that!"

"Then you may want to sleep in the stables tonight Jaskier~" Geralt threatened half heartedly his voice somehow ominous and light. Full of promise, you couldn’t wait there was no doubt this man could play you like an instrument and by god you wont hold back.

"Shut up and go to bed Jaskier, give us adults some time to speak in peace!" you said having enough, it had been fun teasing your grandson but now? Now he needed to go to bed and let you and Geralt have your own fun.

"no! not until Geralt promises not to pounce you!" Jaskier huffed putting his nose in the air with a little victorious hmpf. You eyed him for a moment silently, peering at him making him twitch uncomfortably. But he didn’t move to look at you or Geralt, he was going to try and wait this out. Poor boy he must have forgot where all his sass and sarcasm really came from.

"What makes you certain he is going to jump my bones? I mean I could jump him just as easily. Its how I conceived your mother" you quipped and Jaskier made a strange sound dropping his hands by his side defeated. He looked wide eyed and shell shocked. You merely giggled again.

"Come on let’s just go to bed nephew~" Ciri chimed prodding Jaskier with a giggle. The comment made you and Geralt roar with laughter especially when Jaskier froze having to take a moment to think about it. Then he turned bright red and looked ready to explode.

"Yes, be a good boy and do as your aunt Ciri says" Geralt added rubbing salt in the wound as he laughed a really heard belly laugh

"I hate all of you." Jaskier huffed getting up from the table making his way out of the kitchen, by this point not caring if Geralt fucked you, he just needed to leave the room.

"We love you too Jaskier" you called out sweetly before wishing him a good night. Then turned back to the handsome witchers throne you'd acquired.

"Ciri? Time for bed" Geralt said slowly not looking at her, staring at you with intent. He was done beating around the bush, it was time to dive on in~

"Wait what?" Ciri grunted unsure how Jaskier skulking off had now earned her a bedtime.

"Go on bed, get some proper sleep" Geralt ordered calmly turning his face to her with a nod to the door willing her to go to bed... so he could creep into yours.

"Aren’t you going to get some rest?" Ciri asked with a tremor to her voice, she already knew her soul father was not going to be resting any time soon but she could to help herself as the question rolled off her tongue.

"Later perhaps" Geralt said resting his chin on your shoulder squeezing you tight making you giggle.

"Your serious about bedding- oh god?!" Ciri cried eyes widening in shock her face turning red. He really was going to have sex with you. Oh, good god!

"Oh god- Jaskier wait up their really gonna do it!" Ciri shouted out following Jaskier’s bitching about 'old people' that you could just about hear from the landing upstairs. You and Geralt chuckled and both relaxed into the seat.

"Now my little mage~ how about we have some fun while the kids get to bed?" He offered gliding a hand over the top if your hip dipping down curling his strong fingers around your thigh.

"And here I though witchers couldn’t read minds" you giggled lounging back on him dragging a finger up his wrist to elbow and back again tickling him into a full body shiver.

"We can’t, but I can smell you~ little fucking minx" he rasped at you a bite to his voice, one that was as feral as it was erotic. Your eyes almost rolled back when his hands smoothed over you, lips beginning to place chaste desperate kisses on the skin that was before his face, your neck and shoulder becoming littered with them. Breathy pants and small nips and licks quickly drawing moans from you, his sharp teeth leaving red marks in  its wake.

"I can also smell you... and that horse of yours, let’s take this into the washroom, shall we?" You moaned quickly  wanting to take this somewhere else. You didn’t exactly want to fuck in the kitchen... yet.

"Lead the way" Geralt growled standing up abruptly letting you lade on your feet, but never released you. He remained plastered to your back, grinding against your rump mouth reattached to your skin trying to suck his dark marks into your flesh as you slowly navigated your home to the bath house below.

[lovelyghostlyharmony]

Supernatural- first 'I love you'

Archangels-

Gabriel- The first time Gabriel said he loved you was when you got slightly jealous of a waitress in a bar because she was flirting and Gabriel wasn’t doing anything to stop it. You started to feel stupid just watching it happen so you left him with the waitress and sat in the car regretting ever going out with Gabriel.

I mean, what were you thinking? Going out with a flirty archangel? Of course, he was never going to change his ways… Especially for a girl like you. ‘What was I thinking?’ you thought to yourself but, as expected, there was no answer back. You sat in the back of the car waiting for Gabriel to arrive back. Being very emotional at this time, you were trying to hold back tears, the best thing for you now was to get some fresh air. You hadn’t noticed that Dean(who had come to supervise the archangel) had got back in the car and was watching you with your head in your hands breathing slowly.    "What’s wrong, Y/N?“    "It’s nothing. I just need a little air.” You stepped out of the vehicle and walked over to the railings that looked out into the sea. You breathed in the Miami sea air and smiled having finally calmed down.  'It was nothing,’ you thought, 'Gabriel and I have only been going out a couple of months so it’s not that serious.“ But your heart thought otherwise. He probably didn’t love you or couldn’t tell yet but you knew you loved him though you’d never say it. You knew it. Someone was calling your name snapping you out of your daydream. Quickly, in your best efforts to wipe away your smuggled makeup, you turned to face the person. It was Gabriel. Almost like a sixth sense (sarcasm), he knew something was wrong.     "What’s wrong? You left the bar early and Dean said you were upset in the car earlier. Are you okay?”     “It’s nothing,” you lied. Your voice cracked a little. Then something clicked in Gabriel’s mind.     “If this is about me not tidying away the sweets from earlier, I’m sorry.” Obviously, not the right thing clicked…     “No, it’s not that. It’s just, well, the waitress was flirting with you and you didn’t seem to mind,” you turned away and faced the waves lapping up against the beach, “It’s nothing. Just my imagination that you’d ever change.” You whispered the last bit so you thought he couldn’t hear but he did.     “You know I love you, right?” Your head snapped around quickly. “I know sometimes that it seems like I won’t be able to get away from my reputation but today when you said the waitress was flirting I didn’t even notice because you’re the only woman I notice now. We’ve only been going out a couple of months but I love you.” Your head snapped round in surprise and you didn’t speak for a moment trying to figure out if he meant it. Gabriel saw you thinking and worry rushed over his face, “I knew it was too soon. What was I thinking? We’ve only been dating-” You kissed him to silence his rant.      "I love you too.“

Michael-

The first time Michael ever said he loved you was after you’d been on a dangerous hunt and got hurt. You were in the hospital for several days in a comatose-like state. He stayed by your side only leaving if absolutely necessary. He kept whispering that you’d be okay. That everything would be fine. Little did you know that that day would be the first time Michael ould confess his love.

As soon as his father called informing Michael that you had been hurt, he immediately flew to where he had been told that you were. His mind thought the worst but Michael's heart hoped for the best. He saw you in the hospital bed and rushed to your side. After several minutes, he had taken to holding your hand to calm his nerves. An hour past a nurse, after checking your vital signs, asked him to leave.    "I’m sorry sir but you’re not allowed to stay here. Visiting hours are over.”    "Please,“ Michael begged her, "I love her. I want to be here if and when she wakes up.”    Although he tried to calm his tone, it still insisted on cracking ever so slightly that the nurse must’ve heard and taken pity on him allowing him to stay. He'd thanked her before returning his attention to you.    "Come back to me, my little angel, come back to me.“ He whispered to you quietly that everything would be okay and that you would be okay. Even though he spoke to you, it was mostly for him.     After two more days and one night spent here at the hospital, Michael's heart saddened. He was sure you’d have awoken by now. This was you, you were a hero, a savior, he couldn’t have it end this way. He sighed and continued to rub small circles in a comforting manner on your hand though it had no grip and you could not respond but he hoped it would calm you. A small tear ebbed down his face but no emotion was displayed on his features.    "I love you, little angel. Come back to me. Y/N, I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it every day before this because I’ve known for a long time that I love you but I was afraid. Afraid of rejection or not being enough for you or possibly too much. But I’m not afraid of any of that anymore. I’m only afraid of losing you, you better hurry up and get back to me because you know I hate being afraid and this time you can’t comfort me. I love you, Y/N.” he looked down to the grey floor away from you. he was about to get up and leave when your hand gripped his. His eyes fluttered open and Michael made a small cry out of joy.    "Y/N…“    "I love you too.”     Then he was pulled into a loving hug which he welcomed by pulling you closer so afraid that this wasn’t real or it was all a dream. You nuzzled his neck breathing in the fresh, sweet scent of him which you had missed so much while he buried his head in your neck and stroked your hair in a calming manner. It felt like you were there forever and in your opinion even if it was, you wouldn't have spent eternity any other way.

Raphael-

The relationship you had with Raphael was very complex and far from simple but the one thing that was simple was the foundations of your relationship that were made of pure love. An unspoken but known love for one another. Neither of you had ever technically said you loved each other but you both knew it. The first time you said you loved him was when you found out he was dead. You were devastated that he was gone and mourned over him. It was the first time you visited his grave where you buried him and you admitted your love for him.

You walked up solemnly up to your lost love’s grave and sat on a bench facing it. Your eyes wandered across the writing that was engraved on the tombstone. Many thoughts had crossed your mind the day you got the news that he was gone. He had apparently fought and died at Castiel's hands but some part of you thought that even though it made Raphael sound like a monster, which he was not, it didn’t seem like him. He would’ve been smarter, quicker, better than that. Maybe it was just grief. Maybe it was the last part of your mind clinging on to the last memory of him.     “You’re really gone…” you whispered to yourself, “After all of that, you’re gone and I never got to say goodbye. Oh, Raphael. Why have you left me? Some part of me says to move on that you are gone but something in me says that you had one last trick up your sleeve. One last act but maybe that’s just wishful thinking or maybe it’s a deluded vision but every part of me hopes it to be true. That you’re alive. I did this before. I grieved but this is different; this is definitely worse. It’s going to be a long life without you and in truth, I don’t know if I can survive it.”      You stood up and placed several red and yellow orchids upon his grave and let a tear slip down your face. “You know what the saddest part of this whole thing is? I never got to tell you I loved you. Because I did. With all of my heart and you’ll never hear it. It’s too late but I love you, Raphael: brother, son, friend, lover, Archangel, healer, and the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you.”     “I love you too.”      You froze. It was his voice but… He was dead. He was gone. It couldn’t be him. How could it be? You turned slowly round to see your lover standing a meter away from you with a small smile forming on his thin lips. You just stayed silent contemplating what just happen. He moved first holding you tight to his chest and stroking your hair gently.    "Raphael…“ you pulled away and cupped his face almost as if to check he was real, "You lied to me,” a wave of confusion hit his face but he didn’t interrupt you, “You said after you left last time, you’d never leave me. You’d never let me feel that pain again and you lied.” His face saddened but pulled you closer and held you tight. “Don’t ever leave me again. I love you.”    "I won’t. And I love you too. I’m so sorry I left you but it was only for your protection and I won’t ever be leaving again.“

Lucifer-

The first time you told Lucifer that you loved him and he told you that he loved you was when he got extremely angry and frustrated. Lately, he had been having really vivid nightmares and was starting to remember how many people he killed. Lucifer had started drinking early in the evening and when you came in he had smashed the glass against the wall and was crying out of frustration with his back against the side.

You approached him cautiously having just come in to see your boyfriend in clear turmoil and pain. You called out his name softly and tried to edge closer to him not wanting to anger him any further. He heard his name being called and looked up with anger in his eyes which soon faded when they fell on you. The stance you had taken to was now a crouch so you were at his eye level, “Lucifer? What happened?”      His sorrowful and regretful eyes looked back at the ground. You thought and looked at the bottle remains which had been scattered all over the kitchen floor. “Lucifer. Let me help.” You reached for his hands but he pulled them away and continued looking down. “I just want to help, Lucifer, please let me.” He looked back up and anger filled his eyes but this time it didn’t fade. It was pure rage.     “You can’t help a monster like me! A murderer! You can’t help me! Why do you stay?! Is it out of pity? Because it surely can’t be because you’re here by choice! I bet it’s my dad! he still hates me!” he cried out bundling his fist tightly. They made a crunching sound which you assumed was glass.     “You want to know why I stay?” you ask, not waiting for a reply or response, you continue, “I stay because I love you, Lucifer. You are not a monster. You’re the man I love who would do anything to protect his family, who is a hero, who has a good heart, and is the amazing man that changed my life. I love you.” Lucifer looked at you with regret for shouting at you. “Do you love me?” you asked.     “How could I not love you? Of course, I love you! You’re perfect in every way and I am so thankful that an amazing human like you could ever love a devil like me. I don’t know why you stay with me but I’m going to do everything in my power to treat you like a princess and try to be the decent guy that you deserve.” You smile and pull him into a hug and he quickly hugs you back. “Let’s get you cleaned up then, shall we?” you whisper into his ear not breaking the hug. He pulls away after a while and you both clean up the kitchen. You are quickly done with it soon enough.     “I love you,” Lucifer says taking your small, delicate hands in his.     “I love you too,” you say then kiss him.

A/N- Hope you enjoyed the longest thing I've ever written, I couldn't sleep so why not write.

if you have requests or questions send them in

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hidden Desire

Pairings: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, domestic violence, angst, family feuds, mutual pining, jealousy.

Summary: Forced into a marriage you did not want, your sentenced to a life of loneliness. What happens when you meet your husband’s handsome brother?

A/N: so this is another AU and is loosely based of the true story of Belvedere house(Ireland). I went for a walk along it’s grounds and got inspired. Also no helmets in this.

You’d been married to Paz for a year now and to say it was the worst year of your life was an understatement. You hadn’t wanted this marriage, but Paz was an Earl and your father had made an arrangement with his family. He was from an important mandalorian house and they we’re wealthy. Upon your marriage he’d brought you to his stately home. You were blown away by its beauty. It sat on acres of land, had I a huge forest and had its own lake. This was where the beauty stopped. Paz was cordially first and you had thought that perhaps if given time you both could learn to love one another, but that was not the case. Weeks into your marriage he became adamant that you produce an heir. Family he had told you,was sacred to the mandalorian culture. Weeks then months past and you were not with child. He became furious and began blaming you, and with each month passing when another period came he began to hit you and it only got worse. Your whole body was covered in bruises, you had prayed to whatever god was out there that you became pregnant to end his violence. But it never happened. A year on and Paz has now given up on you and has taken to visiting his other estates more frequently leaving you alone with just the maids. It was during on of these trips away that you had met HIM!

***

He has come to visit Paz, having been away bounty hunting. You were shocked he decided to stay when he was informed Paz was not there. Each night he would have dinner with you and after you would both walk along the forest path, discussing literature, politics, art, anything that came to mind. He told you his name was Din Djarin and that Paz’s parents had adopted him when he was very young. A debt he could never repay. It was on these night you had developed feelings for him. It began with stealing glance at one another to the soft brush of hands when you we’re near. Things had shifted dramatically one evening when you both stood at the edge of the lake, the moon shining bright. You stood staring up at the sky and you were illuminated but the light of the moon looking ethereal. He couldn’t take it anymore he had to have you. Walking up to you he put his hands around your waist turning you to face him. “What are doing Din?”. His eyes lingered on your lips and before you could say anything else he crashed his to yours. He kissed you like a man dying of thirst, and you his only source of water. He pulled back a little and rested his head against yours. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t pretend I don’t love you when your all I can think about.” Your stunned by his admission but the joy it brings to your heart out ways all else. “I love you too Din. I wish it was you I had been married off to.” Upon hearing that Din walked you backwards towards the big oak tree. When your back hits it,he lifts up the skirt of your dress and runs his thin along your folds. “So wet for me already Mesh’la.” “Yes always wet for you Din”. He kisses you again unbuttoning his trousers in the process and lifts one of your legs around his waist. He lines himself at your wet core “are you sure you want this, want me Mesh’la?” “Yes yes…please Din I want you to fuck me.” With that he thrusts up into you and you let out a loud moan. He is huge, and the stretch of him hurts just a little, but you feel every ridge of his cock pumping into you and you love it. “I knew…thrust…that this…thrust…pussy…thrust..would be…tight. You take me so well. This…thrust…pussy..thrust…was made for me.” With that you feel the pleasure coursing through you and you can’t hold back anymore you scream his name into the night. “Oh god yes…Din…yes.” Your cunt clenches around him and it sends him over the edge. “Where, where do you want me?” “Inside, come inside.” With that his seed coats your womb. He rests his head on your shoulder. When he looks up he cups your face in his hands. “I do love you”. “And I you.”

***

From that night you spent most of your time in bed where he had you on every surface of the room. You both did not try to hide your growing relationship from the maids, who would they tell, Paz was never home. You began imagining a life with Din, away from this place, where you spend the rest of your days together. You had explained to him that you could probably not have children given Paz’s fruitless efforts, but this did not stop him from wanting to fill you up every time hoping it would take root. On this particular day you had been in the gardens playing with some of your nieces when he spotted you dancing with the youngest. He imagined you doing that with your child, his child, and he felt his cock grow hard at the thought. That night after dinner he was extra touchy and you had no sooner entered the bedroom when he pinned you to the bed. He wastes no time tonight, quickly stripping you both of your clothes. “On you knees Mesh’la.” You did what he asked and before you could think he was deep inside you. His thrusts were relentless as he pounded into you from behind. He grabbed your hair as to pull you towards him. He grabbed your breast roughly, kneading it. “You look so pretty like this, all cock dumb for me. Tell me who you belong too?” “You…only you.” “That’s right your mine. And I’m going to fuck my seed into you until it takes.” “Oh god yes…fuck Din, please give me a baby.” With one last thrust his seed spurts into your cunt. He pulls out slowly and you groan at the loss. You both collapse onto the bed and he pulls you into him. He runs his hand up and down your spine. You feel..happy. Your suddenly brought out of your daze when the door to the room bursts open. “What the fuck are you doing with my wife?”. Din gets out of bed, puts on his clothes and tries to calm his brother. “Paz please, brother, you do not love her, you fuck any whore you can, but I love her. You can both divorce and that’s the end of it.” “How dare you come into my home, fuck my wife and think I will let you get away with this, and you.” He turns toward you now, furious “you are nothing but a cheap whore, fucking the first man that comes into my home, you couldn’t even do your wifely duty and give me a child.” He is beyond angry now and he makes to pull you from the bed not caring that you are naked. He grabs you by the hair and pulls you along the halls. Din is trying to get you free but his brother is strong normally, but even more so when he is angry. “Paz stop, your hurting her, let her go.” “ oh no she’s going no where ever again.” Din is nervous now what did he mean by that. He tries to grab you again but to no avail. Paz brings you up to the attic. He throws you in and locks the door. “Now she can spend the rest of her days locked away. If I can’t have her no one can.” “ you can’t do this, I won’t let you.” “Oh and what are you going to do huh, last I checked I was the head of this household, what I say goes.” Din could feel the anger in his veins but he left, leaving you, the love of his life locked away like some criminal. He would not let this happen to you he needed help.

***

Weeks passed and you lost hope of ever seeing Din again. You had been given clothes and scrapes of food. Your were being held captive in your own home. You began to feel sick and after the sixth day you mentioned it to one of the maids. Paz allowed a doctor to visit you. It turns out you are 8 weeks pregnant. Your shocked, having believed your were barren. A maid comes in and tells you she can get word to Din and so agree. If Paz finds out about this he will kill you. Din is planning an attack on his brothers home to free you when the maid comes to find him. “Mr. Djarin, em excuse me sir, but I have news of Ms. Y/N.” “Y/N, is she ok has he hurt her?” “No he is not currently home sir, she has been ill of late and Paz allowed us to call for a doctor.” He walks up to her and puts his hands on her shoulders almost shaking her “what is it girl, spit it out.” “She is pregnant sir, 8 weeks I believe.” “Pregnant!” He is speechless sinking into a nearby chair. Cara stands and comes over to him.We have to move now Din, if Paz finds out his wife, who could not bare him a child,is now pregnant from his brother, she is dead.” With that Din stands “ok we go tonight.” You are asleep when you hear keys rattling at your door, suddenly Paz bursts in and storms towards you. “Your fucking pregnant?” He is fuming and grabs you by the hair. He grabs a knife and places it along your throat “ I should have done this in the beginning”. “Don’t you ducking touch a hair on her head.” Paz turns around quickly to see Din standing in the door way blaster pointed at him. “Come to rescue your little whore have you, sis you know she is carrying your child, of course you would get her pregnant, you were always better at everything.” “Put the knife down Paz, you don’t have to do this.” “Oh but I do, you see my reputation is at stake.” “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that, now.” Paz turns to see who Din is talking to buts it’s too late Cara shoots him in the head with her blaster. You fall to the floor trembling and Din moves towards you. “Your ok now Mesh’la, I’ve got you, I’ve got you both.”

Tagging:

@asta-lily, @lunaserenade, @librariantothejedi , @maievdenoir , @seasonschange-butpeopledont , @elinedjarin , @day-off-inkyoto, @danniburgh @absurdthirst

[stanknotstark]

Curse Her (No Really)

So that’s the look i imagine is on Loki’s face when he’s like “Can’t know what?” Anyways I had this idea yesterday after thinking about how I grew into an allergy to acrylic. It started off as an idea to grow into an allergy to gold but then i was like NO what if Amora cursed you instead and just ran with it lol Also Uno is totally the Monopoly of card games, I play it with my friends online and there is constant back stabbing and yelling 😂

P.S. I nearly said pus-y but spelled it as pu$$y and just barely caught it holy cow that could have been bad 🤣

Summary: Amora curses you so you can’t wear gold anymore, the metal being Loki’s favorite type of jewelry to gift you and see you wear with pride. You don’t want to tell him because you’re strong and independent and can figure this out without him, right?

In hindsight you should have seen this coming, honestly. 

You sit in the lab with Tony, you on his table, your legs dangling, and Tony in his seat looking over the holoscreen in front of him with a frown. Bruce is out of town being the humanitarian he is so Tony is left with the job of running scans on those who are affected in battle. You’re just lucky Loki joined the team and helped Tony and Bruce make machines that can scan magic. 

“She cast a spell so you can’t wear gold anymore?” Tony says, his frown deepening. “That’s...a stupid curse.” Tony says looking a bit bewildered.

You let out a bitter chuckle. “She’s jealous that Loki is with me and knows that he loves to gift his sweethearts gold jewelry,” You tell the genius with a roll of your eyes. You look at the ground and sigh. “I suppose I should keep this a secret because if Loki finds out he’ll hunt down Amora and attack her. The last thing I want is Amora teasing me for not being able to fight my own fights.” 

“That is a horrible idea,” Tony pips up looking at you sympathetically. “However, as the resident, number one placeholder of bad ideas, I say do exactly that if you’re really that turned off by some teasing.” Tony says, half heartedly trying to convince you to not follow through with this plan but knowing he failed by the pinched look on your face. 

It only takes two days. Two. For Loki to realize you’re not wearing his jewelry. 

You’re lucky he realizes while in the middle of a team bonding activity, card games. 

“Darling, where’s your necklace?” Loki asks lightly as he watches Steve put down a reverse card so instead of being Clint’s turn it’s Tony’s. Clint responds by calling Steve a buttface causing Steve to laugh out of shock.

Your eyes flick over to Tony’s, whose eyes meet yours for a second before you’re both looking at the cards on the floor again. You don’t notice it but Loki definitely noticed the look you both shared but chooses to ignore it.

“I’m letting it soak, it needed to be cleaned and polished.” You easily slip the lie out of your lips. When you look at Loki you’re lucky he isn’t looking at you at first because he can usually read your lies. As he skims his eyes back over to you you let a soft smile slide over your lips to which the god answers with a tilt of his lips. 

When he looks away you swallow, Tony catching your eyes and raising his eyebrows. 

Tell him. Tony’s eyes flash.

Not right now! You push back through your eyes and a small shake of your head.

Tony rolls his eyes and that’s the end of that silent conversation. 

The subject isn’t brought up again until the fourth day. 

You know Loki has definitely caught on to the fact that you stay in Tony’s lab a lot recently but you’re thankful he doesn’t ask questions about it.

“Where are your rings?” Loki outright asks, grabbing your hand and rubbing over your fingers with his thumb, his face in a slight frown as he looks at your bare hands. He notes that you wear silver bangles instead of your usual gold.

You both are getting ready for a press release about Amora’s attack and usually you love to flash your jewelry to the public, as if yelling from the roof tops that Loki is yours when you’re adorned in his colors and gifts. 

“I, uh, lost them,” You mutter out, playing it up and acting ashamed with your flushed cheeks and pulling your hand from Loki’s to hug yourself. “I’m sorry, I’ll find them though.” You bite your lip looking at Loki’s face. The god smiles tenderly and brings his hand up to caress at your jaw. 

“It is fine. I will help you look for them when we have the time.” Loki tells you, his hand falling from your face to grab your hand and lead you from the room. 

You totally miss the disappointed frown that passes over Loki’s face as you pass the dresser in the room and he sees the rings laying there. 

By the sixth day Loki hasn’t said anything else about your missing jewelry. However, yesterday, a day after the press release, Loki had left your rings on your night stand without another word about them.

You can tell Loki is pulling from you, putting up walls that you had worked so hard to demolish. He seems more standoffish and irritated now if his scathing remarks to the team are a tell. You really should just tell him what’s going on but you’re stubborn. 

Today, you sit with Tony in the lab hoping he’ll find a way to make this stupid curse just disappear. While you could wear the gold it would leave you with a noticeable rash within a few hours and if worn long enough pockets of pus appear. If Loki noticed that he would start asking questions you can’t, or rather don’t want to, answer

“I think we need to tell him, I’m honestly lost,” Tony says swiveling in his chair to look at you. “Magic isn’t my forte, it’s Loki’s.” He explains as if you don’t know that. 

“Tony, Amora will never let me live this down. She will always belittle me for being weak and having to ask for help to figure this out.”

“Technically you’ve already asked for help...” Tony points out hesitantly. 

“This is different. She will call me dependent on Loki, like I wasn’t a threat before he came along and I’m his little damsel in distress,” You say letting out a frustrated growl and covering your face with your hands. “I don’t know how to explain what I mean, ok, I just can’t tell Loki.” 

“Uh...” Is all Tony says as you failed to notice someone else came into the lab. 

“Look, I love Loki but he can’t know.” You say with finality, letting your hands drop.

“Loki can’t know what, exactly?” Loki asks in a smooth but dangerously low tone.

You gasp, jumping a little in your spot on Tony’s work table. Your eyes are wide as saucers and you’re sure you can feel the blood from your face leave. 

Loki stands a few feet away with his arms crossed and a pissed look on his face. 

The room is incredibly silent, the tension able to be cut with a dull butter knife. You’re lucky Tony comes to save you. 

Tony sighs, brings a hand up to rub through his hair and looks at Loki with a grimace as if dreading to tell Loki a, false, secret.

Wow he was a great actor, shouldn’t be surprising considering he grew up under the paparazzi’s thumb but to see it in action? It’s shocking.

“She wants me to build her some armor. Says she feels inadequate next to all of us since she doesn’t have powers or anything cool other than pistols.” Tony, falsely, admits. 

Loki frowns at Tony before his eyes slide over to you looking to see if Tony speaks the truth. You quickly make yourself believe Tony’s lie, putting on your brave face as you look at the God of Lies in the eyes. 

You know you’ve succeeded because Loki drops his arms and walks over to you. Tony moves away to tinker with something else in his lab, giving you both space, and quickly flicking the holoscreen he had been looking at away before Loki gets a close look at it and it reveals your secret. 

Loki spreads your knees so he may stand between your legs and brings a hand up to grip your chin and make you look up at him. 

“You will never be inadequate. You deserve a spot on this team, powers or not. You are a formidable warrior and I’m honored to be able to fight by your side,” Loki tells you, his voice strong and confident, his eyes filled with love. “Why would you hide this from me?” He then whispers, his eyebrows stitched together in a hurt look.

You swallow the lump in your throat and consider telling Loki the truth as you look into his eyes and see how much he truly loves you. How much it hurts him to know you’ve been lying to his face.

“I-” 

Suddenly the tower’s klaxons are roaring to life and causing the moment to be broken. You, Loki, and Tony stand at attention. 

“Sir, Amora has breeched your defenses, she is fighting Mr. Rogers and Odinson on floor 84. I believe they have it handled though.” Jarvis supplies you all. 

You and Loki quickly make your way to the floor, Tony lagging behind to put on his suit. 

When you get there Steve and Thor have Amora bound with magic resistant cuffs as she kneels on the ground between them. When she sees you her eyes light up at the fact you are without any jewelry and gives a dark laugh. 

“You haven’t rid yourself of my curse? I figured Loki would break it within 24 hours. You’re losing your touch aren’t you, mage?” Amora says looking over to Loki with a perfectly coiffed eyebrow raised in question. 

Loki looks over to you with confusion on his face and you sigh. Of course the bitch had to ruin everything you’ve been avoiding. 

“Oh,” Amora says, her face slack with shock. Then it splits into an evil grin. “He doesn’t know?”

You glance at Loki who is looking between the two of you with avid interest. Steve and Thor look confused as well. Tony’s suit clanks over to Amora and slaps a magic resistant gag over her mouth, giving you a look that tells you you need to tell Loki everything, now.

Steve, Thor and Tony leave with Amora leaving you in the silent room with a very confused Loki.

“What does she speak of?” Loki finally asks when you refuse to give him anything as you stand there looking at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re cursed?” Loki asks, concern laced in his words causing you to feel worse.

You let a tear drop from your eye, blowing out a deep breath and looking at Loki. 

“She cursed me so I can’t wear gold without getting a bad rash and pus pockets.” You let the words tumble out of your lips, a small hiccup coming out of your mouth at the end of the sentence. 

Loki frowns at you, obviously wanting to comfort you but doesn’t reach for you yet. “That is why you haven’t been wearing my jewelry?” Loki asks for confirmation. 

You nod, bringing a hand up to wipe at your tears. 

You don’t expect it but Loki quickly envelops you into his arms in a crushing hug. One hand holding your head to his chest, the other rubbing over your back. His body relaxing into yours as if relieved.

“You’re not mad?” You ask the god shakily, your words hitting his chest as puffs of air from your mouth. You bring your arms up and hug Loki back.

“Darling, I thought you had grown tired of me, that you were slipping from my grasps, that you were going to ask to split any day now.” Loki says into your hair where he litters kisses. “I thought you had fallen for Tony.” Loki explains his own voice wavering a bit at the confession.

“What,” You say shocked, your arms squeezing Loki tighter at the realization of the hurt you put Loki through this past week, “No, never, Tony is my friend. I just didn’t want to have to be saved by you all the time. I don’t want to be your damsel in distress. I want us both to be dependent but also independent, that’s all.” You explain into Loki’s chest, your body now shaking with the emotions that overwhelm you. 

Loki lets out a relieved laugh, pulling away just enough so he may look down at you. “You will never be a damsel in distress, with need of my help or not. I told you, you are formidable on your own, a warrior with a brave spirit.” 

Suddenly you feel really stupid. Amora had gotten inside your head and screwed everything up. Loki was right, as he usually is. 

You let out a shaky laugh. “Can you please break this curse so I can wear your jewelry again? I miss it, a lot.” You ask of Loki who only smiles at you fondly and nods. 

“Of course, darling.”