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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Anger issues w/ Dabi, Bakugou and Aizawa

Request: I’m the type of person who doesn’t get angry very easily but when I do I’m really scary and people back off. Can I request Dabi, Bakugou and either Shiggy or Aizawa with a girlfriend who is just like that and the first time they see her angry they are so confused like how did their quiet s/o turn into the devil. Thank you.

Lmao I’m like that as well. Big mood. People underestimate me and think they can walk all over me just because I’m polite. Bitch nah imma stab you in your sleep in 2-3 business days. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: cursing, some violence, threats *creative ones as well*

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

-Baby was the equivalent of the pikachu meme.

-You were both chillin at his place watching TV.

-Actually he was laying down, head in your lap as he played Among us on his phone while you changed channels in an attempt to find something interesting to watch.

-As you were mindlessly zapping through the channels you stumbled upon an interview with none other than the number 1 hero, Endeavor himself.

-Your finger froze over the channel button as you stared at the hero in front of you.

-You felt Dabi stiffen in your lap, his character staying still on the screen as his father’s voice bounced off the walls of the small apartment.

- “Doll could you change th-”

- “I’m thinking of retiring, yes. My family is my top priority and I would like to spend some quality time with them. Family is very imp-”

- “Shut your clown ass up!”

-The remote went flying barely missing the TV as you launched it at the hero’s face.

- “If I have to hear any more bullshit coming out of your mouth I will march to wherever you are and beat you to a fucking plump got it?”

- “Babe he can’t hear you.”

- “I don’t give a shit! He will hear me when my hands are squeezing his WINDPIPE!”

-And with that you shot up from the couch, sending Dabi rolling to the floor in the process.

-Marching out of the living room, he heard the door slam shut and then a muffled scream before the only sound was the words coming from the TV.

-He had whiplash after that.

-He didn’t know what exactly happened but he was glad in some weird way.

-He knows that you don’t get angry easily, hell he couldn’t get you to snap at him even when he tried his best.

-Sure he irritates you but you have never actually snapped like this before.

-Your calm and collected nature calms him down so seeing you curse and be so violent all of a sudden got him riled up.

-Making his way to your shared room he opened the door finding you curled up on your bed with an angry expression on your face.

-Nose scrunched up, mouth in a scowl and brows furrowed.

-Letting out a small chuckle he took his place behind you bringing his lanky arms around your waist as he turned you around,your nose barely grazing his, eyes burning holes in his chest.

-He brought his forefinger in between your brows and made small circles at the spot, watching as your facial expression relaxed a bit but the scowl was still there.

- “Stop thinking about it you’ll get a headache.”

- “I wanna punch him in the dick.”

- “I wanna do that too but it can wait.”

-Kissing your forehead first he started trailing little pecks all over your face, being satisfied by the small giggles he could get out of you.

-This is why I love you.

Bonus:

- “That was the hottest thing I have seen.”

- “You are getting dommed tonight, lover boy.”

- *flustered burned boy*

Bakugou Katsuki

-He is the one who is angry in your relationship.

-We’ve been new.

-You are his damage control, you can always calm him down and put some sense into him.

-Most of the time he listens to your every word.

-So everyone assumed that since you put up with his shit without batting an eyelash, never showing a sign of anger, you can’t get angry.

-That your anger was that little puff of your cheeks and scrunch of your nose that Bakugou adores.

-No one has ever seen you angry so you don’t blame them.

-But everyone has that one thing that just makes them snap *for me it’s Endeavor*

-You were training with class 1-B when that dickhead Monoma decided to fuck with your boyfriend.

-They were fighting, throwing insults at each other non-stop when Monoma decided to be a dick.

- “Why are you even in this class huh? You would be more useful to the villains. It would be so easy for you too, I bet you don’t need much of a push to join them, don’t you Bakugou.”

-Bakugou may not like talking about it but you know.

-The thoughts that haunt him.

-He was kidnapped and saw his idol be brought down because the League believed that he would make a great entry to their group.

-His own mind works against him sometimes, reminding him of the looks of fear most of the people in his life have when it comes to him.

-He hates it.

-What breaks him even more though is being reminded out loud about those thoughts.

-Having them confirmed by someone else.

-He had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the other boy in pure horror when he saw a flash of color and Monoma was now laying face down a few feet away.

-You were panting, hands clenched in fists as you stared at the boy in outer disgust, a vein popping on your forehead.

-Bakugou was silent watching your shoulders frantically going up and down, pure rage emanating from your demeanor.

-In the blink of an eye you were on top of Monoma, lifting him off the ground, a snarl escaping your lips.

- “You fucking piece of shit I’ll fucking stab your parents if you say anything like that again!”

-Everyone was shooketh.

-Absolutely terrified but still shooketh.

-Monoma scrambled off the moment you let him go spewing apology after apology.

- “Baby you okay?”

-How the fuck was your voice back to normal? How was it so soft as if nothing happened? As if you didn’t just pin down and threaten someone.

- “Y-Yeah I’m fine.”

-The class was afraid of you for the next four months.

Bonus:

- “Baby, you got so fired up.”

- “No one talks shit about you!”

- “I know but wow that was hot.”

Aizawa Shouta

-Shouta is used to the comments made about him.

-People doubt him as both a hero and a teacher at times and he has learned not to let it get to him.

-He believed that you had closed those comments off as well, you didn’t show any signs of them bothering you at least.

-Sure you might make a small comment whenever you hear something but you never snapped at someone.

-He knew that you prefered tranquility, it was his calm nature that attracted you in the first place *and the fact that he was smoking hot*.

-So when you actually snapped at someone he was taken aback and super turned on.

-Like wow that woman right there giving someone a heart attack is his wife?

-Wow.

-You were both at a hero conference, meeting up with some of your old colleagues to catch up and to get some insight in the hero industry.

-Yall wanted the tea.

-You two were attached to the hip, never leaving each other's side as you enjoyed yourselves.

-You were chatting with a retired heroine who had helped you in the past when you heard murmuring coming from behind you.

- “I heard that one of his students got kidnapped during the summer.”

- “Of course he would let that happen, what could he possibly be a reliable individual? He was a delinquent and a vigilante, irresponsibility is in his blood.”

-Shouta felt you stiffen as your gaze shadowed over.

- “Kit- um Y/N?”

-The two continued dissing your husband and you tried to calm yourself down, you really did.

-But they made it really really hard.

- “He went on live television and gave excuses for that whole ordeal.”

- “You think he was trying to pass the blame?”

- “Of course he was! He has no sense of dignity, leaving his students to fight while he slept and then letting one of them be kidnapped like that.”

-Now he started getting scared because your grip on his arm had tightened and you wouldn’t look at him.

-He thought that you were having a panic attack and it's OUR panic attack so the convention would have to deal with two UA teachers breaking down.

-But then you let go and a sweet smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the duo.

- “It comes from the bottom of my heart when I say that I need you to sit you maniac ass down and be quiet for the rest of the fucking night because don’t think I would hesitate to beat your punkass in front of all those people. If I hear Shouta’s name come out of your lips again I will personally make sure that you won’t be able to formulate words for the next five fucking months.”

-Not even a peep came out of those two for the rest of the evening, their eyes always darting between you and your husband, cold sweat running down their spines every time one of you made eye contact with them.

- “Y/N, kitty, that wasn’t necessary.”

- “You talk shit you get wrecked, period.”

Bonus:

- “Come on Shouta we’re going home.”

- “We’ve only been here for an hour, kit-”

- “You are either blowing my back out or staying here, choose.”

- “Home it is.”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction @threeamwriting @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron

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mrslittletall · 3 years

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Whump prompt: "I am fine"

With Oscar and Solaire.

More than a wound or an injury, how about it being about psychological angst :D?

Title: Guilt Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Oscar of Astora & Solaire of Astora Word Count: 1.854 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30487920

Summary: Solaire and Oscar reflect on the death of the fire keeper after they returned from Blighttown.

(Author's note: The moment I saw the prompt, I knew that I had to use the Amor Fati versions, a fantastic, but angsty Oscar and Solaire centric fic. It is my own interpretation of a certain scene and clearly not canon to it. Please enjoy.)

Oscar sat in Fire Link Shrine, staring at the bonfire, or what remained from it. The truth was, nothing remained. It had been snuffed out. It was different from the destroyed bonfire in the Asylum however, because nobody had removed the coiled sword of it.

Instead, the reason for the absence of the bonfire laid in a cell below the stairs. Oscar's eyes briefly wandered to the place where the Crestfallen Warrior had once sat. He probably would have a snarky comment for the whole situation, asshole as he was.

Oscar got up and approached the stairs. Solaire still hadn't come back. As soon as the both of them had discovered the dead body of the fire keeper, they had found their culprit right away. Who else could it have been, but Lautrec? The knight of Carim had been a thorn in their side for far too long, spewing his poison wherever he could. Oscar had tolerated him far too long and he barely understood how Solaire had been able to stand being around him in the time Oscar had been stuck in a dark and very empty place, unable to be reborn by the bonfire.

They couldn't hunt Lautrec down however. They had returned from Blighttown and the journey left their bodies beaten and their Estus Flasks empty. With no bonfire to refill them, they first had to track down another and none of them was in the physical or mental state to brave the dangers of Lordran once more. So for the time being, they were stuck at Fire Link Shrine.

As Oscar reached the end of the stairs, he remembered that Lautrec had often sat down here. His eyes on the fire keeper. In hindsight, it had been obvious. How they hadn't seen it coming... they maybe had thought that not even someone as vile as Lautrec would commit the sin and kill a fire keeper. Especially because he was a knight of Carim, who would protect his maiden his whole life.

Thinking about Lautrec only made Oscar's wounds sting and give him a bad taste on his mouth, so he rather approached Solaire, who sat in front of the cell with a vacant stare. He must have sat there for hours now. They were undead and didn't need food or sleep, but Oscar himself knew how damaging it was to just be left alone with his thoughts. He knew it very well.

Deep inside he feared that Solaire might have gone hollow.

“Solaire?”, Oscar said, slowly approaching his friend. “You have sat here for hours, my friend.” Oscar paused for a bit, his worry deepening when Solaire didn't answer right away. “...Are you feeling alright?”

“I am fine.”

Solaire's answer came much more immediate than Oscar had anticipated. Too immediate. Oscar had the feeling that Solaire very much was... not fine. It was normal for Solaire. He always would downplay how he felt. He would always put others over himself. As long as he could help people, he felt fine. Oscar knew that he did it mainly to hide his own deep insecurities.

Insecurities I have been a part of causing.

Oscar was an elite knight, Solaire never had been a part of his group. Oscar had gotten his title mostly from social status and family name, but he hadn't been able to do anything when all his brethren had fallen in battle. He had never participated in their cruel jests with Solaire, but he had been indifferent about him as well. If only he could have been Solaire's friend sooner. He hated that he had lost most of his memories, but he hated the man he once was much more.

Who does say that you changed in the meantime?

Oscar shook his head at himself. He needed to stop these hurtful thoughts. This wasn't about him. Solaire needed him right now. Both of them were far closer to hollowing than they wanted, with Oscar even being stuck in a state of half hollowing, so that he never removed his helmet and preferred not to speak to others.

“You don't seem to be fine.”, Oscar said, sitting down next to Solaire.

“I am fine.”, Solaire just repeated, barely acknowledging Oscar's presence.

Oscar thought about his next words. What would be the sensible thing to say? What would Solaire feel at the moment? Guilt maybe? It felt like Solaire might blame himself for having let Lautrec go away, for not killing him, so that he would have hollowed down in the swamp.

“It wasn't your fault.”, Oscar said. “Neither of us could know that he would do it.”

“I did.”

Oscar's eyes widened at the response. Was there something he didn't knew? Should he poke about the issue a bit farther?

“Solaire?”, he asked, deciding to let the other knight take the initiative.

“Oscar...”, Solaire said. “There are things I haven't told you about.”

Oscar held his breath, waiting for Solaire to continue. Solaire surely was talking about the time in which Oscar had been “dead”, to him at least.

“It would warp your perspective of me.”, Solaire finally spoke, after Oscar finally released his breath.

Oscar used his next breath to reply: “Nothing you did could ever make me think lesser of you.”

Solaire had done so much for him, without him, Oscar had long gone hollow. Solaire had been nothing but a joy in his sorry existence as an Undead, he had been his precious friend. As far as Oscar knew, Solaire probably did blame himself for Oscar's death still, because he had insisted on helpin the woman that had lured both of them into the trap that had cost Oscar's life.

Solaire finally looked at Oscar, his blue eyes seemingly staring right through him. “Are you sure about this?”, he said dryly, as if he already had made up his mind about how Oscar would react.

“Yes, I am sure.”, Oscar replied. “Whatever happened down there, Solaire, you can tell me. I promise I won't think less of you.”

A deep sigh escaped Solaire's lips and he started to tell the story. Once he had left Lautrec to die in the swamp (Oscar felt that he still regretted not having killed Lautrec back then), he had found a cave in which a woman with a giant spider for a body had resided. She had attacked him and Solaire had come out victorious from this battle. Then, he found a sunlight medal on a wall. Upon trying to take it, a secret corridor had appeared and..

“The knight of thorns was there.”, Solaire said, nothing but tiredness in his voice, “I saw him and... I saw red. I could only think about, that he was responsible for your death, Oscar. That was all... all I could think about. I didn't simply fight him, I made sure to inflict as much pain as possible on him...”

“Solaire...”, Oscar didn't manage to say more than his friend's name before Solaire continued.

“There was this... woman there... blind, sick, broken. She spoke to me and thought that I was her sister. She was... very important to the knight of thorns...”

Oscar felt like he wanted to hold his breath again, having a bad feeling about where this story was going.

“He took away what was most precious for me right in front of my eyes, so I... I was raising my sword and was about to do the same to him... I... I only snapped out of it, because... because she told me... or more her sister that she thought was me, that she would happily die for her. I.. I couldn't go through with it. This had all been so wrong and then...”

Solaire took another deep breath and then the rest of the words just poured out of him.

“It was Lautrec who killed her, but it could have been me. I almost did it. All because I wanted to inflict pain on the knight of thorns. All because I wanted vengeance for you, Oscar.”

Solaire was actively sobbing now, burying his face in his hands. Oscar could only imagine the pain Solaire had been in. He asked himself how he had reacted would it have been Solaire that had died and not him. How he would have reacted if Solaired had never been reborn from the bonfire.

At the same time, Oscar felt a deep and dark shame bubble up in himself.

“I turned into nothing but a monster!”, Solaire cried out. “And the moment I should have been one, the moment I decided to let Lautrec live, I took the life of two innocent women. That makes me into an even worse monster!”

Oscar flinched upon hearing Solaire talk so ill of himself. He knew that Solaire wasn't... like this. Solaire was compassionate, far too compassionate. It was his compassion that had made him hesitate to kill Lautrec. Lautrec's actions weren't Solaire's fault. If anyone was at fault, it was..

“No, you are not at fault, Solaire.”, Oscar said, grabbing the hands of the sunlight warrior and removing them from his face, staring into his swollen and teary eyes. “When anyone was at fault, it was me. I was trapped in the darkness, that is why I couldn't be reborn, but I didn't make an effort. It was nice, warm, calm and someone was there to keep me company.”

A friend? Did he see the Chosen Undead as a friend? Probably not anymore after the shit they had pulled, but it couldn't be denied they had a history with each other.

“They showed me a world of... peace and serenity. A world in which I didn't had to care about anything in the world. I was so close to just... give in and stay there forever. It was the thought about you, my friend, that made me snap out of it. I knew that you were waiting for me, Solaire, that is why I could return.”

Oscar started into Solaire's face, saw his trembling lip and the unspoken words between them. Instead of saying anything, Oscar simply gave Solaire a tight hug.

“I am sorry, Oscar...”, Solaire sniffled after a while. “I appear to be... not fine after all.”

“I think... neither of us is.”, Oscar said. Or ever has been., he thought. “It's alright, we can figure this out. We have each other after all... we can always figure something out.”

“You don't think less of me?”, Solaire said, his voice hoarse and broken.

“How could I?”, Oscar asked. “You are not responsible for Lautrec's crimes and I promise to you, once we find him, we will make him accountable.”

Solaire finally stopped sniffing and reciprocated the hug. “Thank you... my brother.” (Author's note: This probably won't make too much sense when you haven't followed Amor Fati, which I very much recommend. If you like Oscar and Solaire and like angsty stories, go and read it.

It was fun writing versions of Oscar and Solaire that are not mine and I hope I did them justice. I look forward to the next chapter of Amor Fati.)

#dark souls #fanfiction #oscar of astora #solaire of astora #march of the whumps #request fill #ask answered #thx for the ask #littlewritesstuff #acebladespades

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 16.1)

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

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8) (GUESS WHAT? IT AIN’T SATURDAY TODAY! LMAO)

CHAPTER 16

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The best part has finally come to an end, life aren’t all smiles and rainbows. Now, here comes the negativity that will surely eat you whole with the life you have with the witcher.

Warnings: Fluff! Kinda’ Dad! Geralt? Slight. Cirilla being such a sweetheart? Jaskier being Jaskier. Mention of blood. Insecure and overthinking reader. Mention of Yennefer and Renfri.

Words: 8k+

A/N: This should’ve been posted last saturday. But, life happened so here it is. I should’ve been taking a break but I think I’ll have my break next saturday instead. Think of this as if I just gotten late to post this chapter for you, bb’s! Though, there will be no update on June 27 instead!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

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

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

THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW. It was the day where Geralt was back on his wild hunt. He'd procrastinated more than he can ever plead for; taking him days with his family was better than having none as the lone witcher would leave with nothing but his horse and sword like the good ol' days.

Other times, he'd have Jaskier in his trips when the bard was too restless to stay and guard Cirilla---it has been two years for doing so---and he would complain about how tedious Geralt would tell his stories about slaughtering such a specific beast. The toubadour wanted to experience and see everything happen before his eyes regardless of his fear for such.

Which leaves Cuthbert and his family for taking care of the princess. Besides, Geralt thought it would be better that people wouldn't see Cirilla living in their home from time to time, as it can also complicate how she would be found because she didn't need to be.

But, with you around; there has to be somebody that was needed to guard and take care of his child of surprise; leading the preferable options down to you because you knew how a girl works and how their mind moves rather than with Jaskier who always welcomes him home with arguments about nonsense things together with his child of surprise. Complaining how she'd intentionally stomped on his foot because of how she was confined in their home all the darn times till how his cooking was abnormally awful rather than Geralt's.

No matter how uneasy Geralt was with leaving everyone alone, he needed to sacrifice the worries away for his family and choose the safety for the people. Even if it would take him days to bask in his solitude with Roach whom he would have as his silent companion.

The witcher was getting ready for his hunt today. He was checking on stuffs that were utterly important not to forget. Elixirs. Herbs. Equipment. Weapons. Geralt continued to place his things inside his bag before a soft piece of parchment has brushed off his fingertips, making him stop from rummaging inside his bag to snatch it out.

It was the drawing he retrieved from the gallants he'd fought. The broken sketch of you and him together, taken from being scoured by the royal guards because he was needed for a favor that could help the kingdom and its heir.

Fucking people who kept on needing him all the damn time. He silently spewed blasphemy over and over inside his head for making his life more complex than it ever was with Destiny laughing on his side.

Especially that he was finally accepting what it brings to him. You.

He'd taken one last look on the paper before tucking it inside his bag; in a safe place where it wouldn't be destroyed before he'd heard familiar stealthy footsteps padding closer to where he stood beside his horse.

"Geralt,"

Jaskier has taken what the witcher has fetched him to, showing the contents of what laid on his palms before his brooding friend has taken it with a begrudging look that says he woke up on the bad side of the bed today.

Though, the bard was sure he did because of the perception that he needed to leave you alone in his chambers.

Geralt has given him a sharp look which has taken aback Jaskier who seemed to be surprised in such the break of dawn, ceasing his yawn when he'd received such surprising antagonism. He saw the blank stare he'd given him, thoroughly stupefied from whatever sauciness he was trying to give.

Jaskier could even notice how he was more quiet and grumpier than usual first thing in the morning. An unusual state of the witcher when you came along because he was finally talking more after getting some sleep.

"What’s going on, Geralt? Did something happened? I thought friends trust each other! You know you can trust me on this---anything! Is Roach dying? do you need another horse?"

The monster-slayer raised a sassy brow at his friend, looking away as he went on to obtain the items that laid on Jaskier's hands. His hands abnormally heavy as their hands grazed each other; letting the bard know that there was something more to it other than the idea that you would be away from him.

"Should I ask you the same thing?" he deeply grumbled, sounding like a snarl that has caught Jaskier off guard.

His talkative friend appeared to be wounded from his silent grudges that he held out for him. Jaskier couldn't help but scrunch his face in utmost perplexity, feeling aggravated for what attitude Geralt has been giving him when all he had been doing was help him in such a crazy, early hour of the morning.

He won't be taking his attitude when he was still heavy-eyed from trying to get his sleep last night. Reasons why he couldn't was because his room was beside yours and the insatiable witcher. Technically, his suggestions that have been approved sometimes hit him in the head like a boomerang; he didn't think it through that his advice can bring him results where he would suffer.

Geralt and his shitty, overly developed libido.

"But, I don’t have a horse! Why are you---Oh! Ohohoho. You were being sarcastic! I know you---know the differences of those monotones of your verbose timbres. Everybody should applaud me for it," Jaskier scornfully laughed, annoyed by how the witcher has been acting. He held onto his hips, shoulders rolled as his head fell back while he sarcastically laughed, feeling the swift breeze of the morning fog giving him a whiplash as Geralt walked pass him to fix Roach's reigns. The toubadour has turned on his heels to see the subtle swerving of topic by staying silent and minding his own business.

"---I'm utterly not in the mood for your grouchy attitude, Witcher! You sound like you are accusing me of something I shouldn’t have done!"

Roach gave a nicker as she heard two friends share their squabbles; being immature over not sharing what one has a problem over the other.

"You sound guilt-ridden." Geralt bluntly stated, ignoring the bard who has sauntered in front of him with an offended face. His friend seem to be lost at words from where ever his hostility is coming from.

Jaskier tried thinking it through, cocking his head to the side as he stood before the brooding witcher. He hadn't been too intrusive the past few days nor did he try and get his patience boiling. In all honesty, the bard has set a good amount of space around Geralt when you came in their lives. Reaching to the point that Geralt spends his time with you and Cirilla a lot more than him.

Though, there were the times where Jaskier gets to spend more time with you than Geralt when he was being the complicated mutant he is, sharing banters with you that ends up in a wrestling match because of how he kept on spitting jests that rattles the kindness you ought to have.

The witcher knew Jaskier blushed when he’d accidentally tackled you to the ground from choking him with all your might as you used your arms. The bard’s weight bringing you down when he tried battling with your physical blitz of ripostes. Geralt couldn’t help but purse his lips at that as he watched you wrestle with his annoying bard who had a palpitating heart from being flustered over you.

Jaskier likes you and he was sure about that.

"W-What---Oh! what a fuckin’ crass you are! What do you even mean?!" he bellowed and stammered, sounding and looking utterly lost. Pretty ocean blue eyes demanding for answers over what grudges he was holding; dramatically raising a hand for thespian gestures.

"Does she look like Booker? No. I suppose not. The cavalier you were fond with was horrible," Geralt sounded too straightforward, never known to sprinkle his words with flowery vernacular that would consider him kind and nice. He gave out a loud, audible sigh; giving him a nonplussed look.

No matter how rude he sounded, his eyes had a look of defiance and understanding. The witcher wasn't mad at the fact that Jaskier has taken a liking towards his midget. No. Geralt knew better than to be enraged over feelings he couldn't control; much so to himself despite of hating the strong feelings he was having over you.

Besides that, Jaskier was his friend. He respected you and Geralt because he knew what was coming forth between the both of you. Like a masochist, even to the point of helping you and the white wolf build the relationship that was bound to happen sooner or later.

Julian Alfred Pankratz just knew you were both endgame from the moment Geralt of Rivia have saved you from those scoundrels. What stated his facts correct was the subtle glimpses that the witcher has been giving you whenever you were around or near their presence; staring when you least expect him to and caring when you needed to be fostered.

Your existence had Geralt thoroughly interested for what and who you were and his friend could visibly see that.

Hence, right at this moment; it was his time to look obvious towards the ivory haired witcher over his one-sided attraction he had for you.

"I should've known, Jaskier. Your gestures aren't exactly subtle."

Geralt shook his head when he lately realized that, clasping a hand over Jaskier's shoulder to give a firm pat; respecting whatever he felt for you. If he wanted to continue those unrequited feelings, it was fine. But, the gesture from him was a silent discussion that he won't be backing down nor stepping away to give the him the opportunity to become what Geralt is already to you.

"I beg your pardon---? Shouldn't you be attacking me with your little tricks already?---I mean, right! Yeah." Jaskier started and stammered at the same time, but was cut off by a terse statement.

"Never leave her side as much as I would."

Geralt gave another light pat to his shoulder before he walked around him, treading over the front door to retrieve two flasks of water and your special Ale that he somehow needed to bring because it reminded of you. The bard trailed behind him, following his footsteps till he was hunched over to get them.

"Geralt, if I may ask---but I hope you wouldn't punch me in the gut after this. The Djinn, obviously was a snake in the lake. What will happen to her now?"

Jaskier just couldn't help but shut his mouth now, does he? he thought at the back of his mind, silently cursing for even bringing it up for him to remember.

The witcher stood up with a long drag of his breath; sounding surfeited by how his mind worked. He was in deep ponder over knowing that his friend had taken the hots for you too, yet he appeared to sound like he was pushing you away soon that he knew Geralt was thoroughly enamored.

"Now, you want her to go." he deadpanned, nettled by what he was suggesting. His eyebrows tightly crossed together from how cretinous it sounded, "---I've been told by a daft of a bard to keep the rat when I was finding a shitty Djinn,"

Geralt couldn't accept what he was hearing. He didn't need to hear this question especially when he was leaving for a hunt. The latter was finally trying to accept what destiny holds out for him, testing what would happen with you around; thinking if it was even a smart decision for him to not challenge fate for the second time around.

It was probably for the better before any sacrifices can happen. Though, why was he even being questioned when he's finally having momentous moments with you?

Geralt gravelly hummed in displeasure, walking away from his friend as he said out loud with a brooding demeanor, moon over by what questioned he received when he'd only done what everybody wanted from him.

"You smell of heartache, rejection and bewilderment, bard."

Jaskier looked utterly wounded from receiving such spiteful words.

"O-Oh! You just didn't quote me that, witcher! You are beyond frank and hilarious when you are being verbally challenged!"

He heavily marched towards Geralt, stopping in front of him with his arms dramatically wide open; indignant of how petty he sounded for being asked over a question that was bound to be inquired soon enough because you were a person who came from another dimension that truly exists.

"I was simply asking what you would do when the rat finally needs to come home from where she rightfully belongs! What will happen to her?!----especially, to you, huh?!"

Geralt's eyes were heavy as it landed on him. Brooding. Crestfallen. Enough to say that the concept of it made him even more dejected and disgruntled. The witcher kept his mouth tightly shut, snapping his eyes away to mule over what he said.

You were already a part of his home besides his original family and Geralt didn't know what to do when one person leaves. Again. He was already done with leaving people and it wasn't surprising when karma hits him back as it'll use you as a pawn.

But, he does not opt for it to happen.

Jaskier brought his arms down to his sides. Baby blue eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pushed together to elicit his worry for his friend despite of the real deal that he also had with you.

"----Because apparently, you are in the risk of heartache when the time comes for her to leave. Isn't that right, Geralt?"

The break of dawn is nigh; dark and light colliding to meet the sun as they were finally reaching daybreak from all the fusses that was happening. He should've left before you even woke up, knowing you would be slightly upset as you weren't used to what life he had nor did you exactly have the vivid idea of everything.

You knew nothing at all and soon enough, Geralt was sure it'll kick him in the butt for not saying anything more about their world and for what it holds.

"You aren't just fond of her anymore. It's beginning to grow more than that," Jaskier honestly convinced his theories and observations, pausing to look at Geralt who has given him a tiny quirk of his brow for what he wanted to say, "---Before you tell me that it's because of something the Djinn has cast upon you both, it must be wrong."

Geralt went completely silent; letting Jaskier share his opinions laid out for him to understand, "You risked to appear in front of that wandering vampire that the queen has kept around---" pause. "---risked everything we had, trying to lay low from everyone because our lives are at stake here,"

Jaskier's weight fell on one foot to the other, raising a hand to point at himself as he continued to conclude, "You can fool anyone but me, Geralt. I can see who she is for you,"

"What do you want me to say, Bard?"

He brought a finger up to the witcher, ceasing his temper from bursting out of nowhere, "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let her go." pause. "---Keep her, because I know you'll think of the greater good and try to fix everything according to your treacherous and foolish plans. Don't let her leave you---don't make her leave us,"

Geralt cocked his head to the side, forehead creased in confusion for the sudden contrast of his advice. His friend was technically not sounding forthright after asking him what his decision was with the involvement of you.

The latter started again, "Choose---" Brusque and impatient. His harsh, clipped tones cut him off. Geralt stated as a matter of fact, "---the lesser evil. So, I've been told."

He rounded up and dragged his feet away from the bard, walking the path back to his horse with a vexed Jaskier who angrily marched to where he was.

"No, you fool!" he ungraciously exclaimed, standing beside Geralt who took Roach's reigns, tugging at it as he motioned for her that it was time for her to gait, taking heavy steps away from their home while Jaskier followed close.

"---choose the greater good; even if the decision makes you selfish, Geralt."

The witcher looked up at the sky, seeing the beautiful sunny color paving its way to greet them a good morning. It wasn't a good morning to him based on how irritating the start of his day began. He stopped his mosey with an evident sigh, letting Jaskier continue to talk.

"---Stop challenging fate before it's too late---you deserve to be happy---surprising isn't it? From a bard who keeps on blabbing horse shite all the bloody time---well, I'm tired of being with a brooding witcher! If it means to be with a rat forever just for you to stop being cantankerous then I'm accepting the sacrifice!"

The bard's voice echoed across the meadow, combining along with the chirping of birds and the strong breeze of the morning wind. Roach was sniffing Geralt when he'd heard that soft padded footsteps jumping down their stairs in a hurried manner. He'd given Jaskier a disappointed look of his golden peepers; his plan now ruined that he would leave without bidding goodbye because of one bard that could always get under his skin for no reason.

"You were saying, bard?"

You were out of the threshold in no time. Hair in a tangled mess from your previous nightly adventures; along with your painted skin that had witcher bites, looking gauche from wearing Geralt's large tunic that ended on your knees with nothing under and a pout drawn to your face as you ran barefoot along the meadow, wildly screaming his name.

"Geralt-of-fucking-Rivia!" you panted and whined, never believing that he was leaving without any form of goodbyes, "---Don’t you dare step a foot! I swear to God, I will cut your majestic white hair when you walk away and I’ll never make you my special ale anymore!"

The threat was loud enough for him to cease his footsteps; plans of irritating you further would never be a good idea especially that he was leaving for a hunt.

Palms upon your knee, you stood in front of the frowning witcher wearing his black, leather full gear armor; heaving deep pathetic breaths as your hauled over yourself, raising a hand to stop him from leaving.

When you've finally caught your breath, you promptly straightened your back; letting him see your swollen eyes due to sleeping late with probably morning dew slipping a few off the ends of your eyes. He affectionately caught sight of your upset ones; displeased from his sudden flee.

"How dare you leave when you know I don't wake up early like this?---and leaving without a hug!? Seriously, Geralt?!" you declared, obviously unsettled from being fucked the night after without waking you up to say that he was about to leave you for days in a world you hardly know about?

"---What if I don't get to see you again?"

Questions after questions, you demanded answers from Geralt in which it shall never be received based on how he simply watched you raved, feeling the discomfort and worry of leaving his family alone, "What if you never come back?" it sounded like you were thoroughly agonizing over the idea. You started to fret, toes feeling the moist pasture land over the soles of your feet; bringing you more concern.

"---What if I've been kidnapped or something?!"

Geraly shook his head, mouth in a tight thin line as he interrupted, "You're never leaving the house, midget. You need to take care of Cirilla," he let go of Roach's reigns to place his arms on either side of him, his tone more passive than yours, the words he told held more meaning as if he was giving a lot more trust than he can ever do by letting you handle the responsibility for his child of surprise even just for days.

The point simply tells you that he wasn't treating like you were his possession after admitting his feelings. Geralt was acting like a father and a husband for making you feel that way over supporting what he does for a living.

Just the act itself made you reach out for Geralt's hand, tightly clutching it in both of yours like you didn't want him to leave because you were feeling a little agitated for no reason. Overthinking always does take a toll on you. But often times, these female intuitions you have were correct for whatever bad feelings you were having.

Geralt closed his fist to subtly caress the back of your hand as Jaskier tried to convince and pour ice to your anxiety filled head, "Small rat, those are only predictions. He won't die yet. You're talking to a 100 year old witcher and you're frightened that he wouldn't come back alive?"

You face suddenly morphed into confusion, giving Jaskier a look of puzzlement. 100 years old? Geralt never looked that old to you, maybe his face was pretty much mature than yours but his features tells that he was around 30'ish and above, a lot more older than you nevertheless.

Geralt was still quiet as he continued to brush his thumb over the back of your hand. No objection was received and so, you believed Jaskier's words were true. Yet, his age never made you uneasy nor made you want to run for the hills. He was still Geralt. Your mean looking, soft-hearted witcher. More human than any other man can ever be.

He was yours. Only yours; and you needed to bite your tongue from saying words that would taser your heart from being unanswered.

"Wait---what--- you're a 100 years old?!?!----anyway, Geralt---!!" Geralt only hummed in dissatisfaction for Jaskier's existence in their world.

You peered up at the witcher with a fretful beam, your nose scrunching from feeling too worried for him when he goes out to hunt for his monsters; remembering what stories he told and the scars you've seen on his body. It was making your heart feel heavy, and Geralt wasn't a simpleton to not know nor feel how concerned you were for him.

It's been a long time since he's ever had someone making him feel all sorts of things and the doubled up emotions was making it more uncontrollable for the feelings he had for you.

"In our world, when a person leaves, they always bid their goodbyes!" Geralt drowsily blinked back at you, an utter soft flicker in his eyes that made your heart turn to mush.

Your eyes were hopeful as you asked, "---now, where's mine?"

You've let go of his hand, timidly standing before him with your frail arms on either side; wiggling your bare toes on the grass as you shyly waited for his reaction. Was it too much to ask even just a kiss before he goes?

"Goodbye, midget." the white wolf gravelly rasped, insincerity dripping in his tone because he didn't like bidding goodbyes to people he would still get to see again. The words seemed to be bitter for his taste, his farewell totally feigned because he was never going to leave for good. You've seen a tiny slip of his fangs as he talked and tried to regret what he said.

"---though, I doubt I meant that because I am not leaving for good,"

His reaction made you want to jump in a hole and just talk to yourself instead. Your face fell at that and Jaskier was found silently wincing from what the witcher has interpreted. He would rather bask in his own laughter and silence by himself than be punched by Geralt. So, he did; snorting a chuckle as he continued to eavesdrop and watched you both in a conversation.

Though, the bard's laughter was momentarily ceased when Geralt sent him a scowl.

"Why am I---why are witchers idiots? why are you an idiot sometimes?!"

Jaskier was known to be brave for even deciding to be Geralt's travel companion before; having the freedom to annoy him and never gotten the chance to end up beheaded or served as a meal for monsters. He was the only person who Geralt could handle no matter how he brings problems and for how annoying he can become.

However, at some point; they've gotten into a huge fight and it was intense. Luckily, they were on good terms right now after being separated.

"I second the notion, small rat!" the toubadour jested with a grin; Geralt's lack of knowledge about romantic gestures entertaining him.

You palmed your face in fluster and from the frustration; seeming more difficult to say what you truly wanted because Jaskier was close enough to hear what you could ask. A frown etched your face, grouching before the witcher like a kid that has never been given a big swirling rainbow lollipop.

"I didn't meant that! I meant---I meant---!"

You were stammering as you stood rooted on the ground, glancing up at Geralt while subtly pointing to your pouted lips. He calmly breathed out his frustrations from not understanding you prior before. But, the way his golden eyes lit up, sparkling beneath the sun's rays made you see that he knew what you meant.

His eyes were like diamonds twinkling under the sun and it always leaves you bewitched.

He has given Jaskier another grimace before humming back at you in comprehension, "A buss." His mouth curled in a small smile before you've seen him give you a gesture with his hand; urging you to come closer.

"Come ere'. You should've been more specific, midget."

Geralt slung an arm around your hips, his armor hitting your skin with soft clungs; pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to your height, catching your ajar lips in between his as he puckered to give you the most tender kiss you've received, taking you breath away like how he always does.

He'd kissed the tips of your vermillion, feeling like the other piece of your heart has been put together; making you feel complete. Satisfied. With the sudden life that was given to you when you woke up in the middle of the forest, having no idea how you've been transported.

But, experiencing no obstacles in their world from the time being was making you feel jittery because you knew life didn't work that way. It always leads you into an ocean, making you drown in impediments that can assuredly take the happiness away from you in just a flash.

You knew something was about to happen because fate always leads you in that position. It was like it wanted you to taste what contentment in life would be before snatching it out of your hands.

What would your fate bring you in their world?

Geralt has pulled away in the slightest amount. The tips of your vermillion brushing against his as your heart felt heavier to feel his warmth around you; not liking the concept of your witcher away because of certain reasons you couldn't explain. Faint voices has woken you up from your slumber, forewarning about him leaving you; urging for Geralt not to go which took you to run out of the door in your disheveled state.

He lightly gave you a kiss on the tips of your nose; your mouth frowned at that no matter how your heart slightly fluttered from the soft gesture. Geralt straightened his back as he has given Jaskier a knowing look. Jaskier unconsciously has given him a subtle roll of his eyes, feeling that he was being cocky for showing that he had the freedom to kiss you like that. It was how Geralt could define his repartee and Jaskier swore that he got one point of having the upper hand from the surprising physical display of affection.

"Difficult...to be lovers with a 100 year old witcher, won't you say?" he sent the message to you and sounded like he wanted to sulk but he covered the tone with a feigned cough.

Light hurried footfall came falling behind. The Ashen haired child announced her appearance with a look of nausea; her nose twisted in distaste for what she saw because she had already been watching you three in a distance.

"Ugh, gross." she joked, quickly replacing her abhorrence with a genuine smile, "---Is this how disgusting it is to see a child's parents kiss?"

Everybody turned to look at her, the arm that has snaked around you was now gone as you also looked at the princess with a bewildered expression for what she'd said. Nobody dared to object nor concur to what they've heard, only reticence.

But, not for Jaskier. He'd called Cirilla out for saying those words unexpectedly.

"So, you're calling them your parents now? Mother? Father?---and me?"

The lion cub of Cintra raised a sardonic brow as she tightly crossed her arms over her chest, tone all jest and playful as she commented, "---Which leads to you, bard." she abruptly paused to make it sound more intriguing as she spat, "---a dust mite in the household."

Cirilla took several steps closer to Geralt, making you fall back to give them time together. You've given them both a loving smile to indicate that you loved seeing them interact all the time because of how compassionate he was over his child, such a fatherly thing he appeared to be like, with the princess finding comfort and protection in his arms as she stepped closer to give the witcher a big, bear hug that he certainly didn't think twice to accept.

"Take care, Geralt. More than ever--please do come back,”

You eyed Geralt who was hugging Cirilla, your smile turning wider than ever as you lively jested among the affectionate scene you were seeing from a father and daughter.

"Is this the part where we should give you a group hug?---Okay! Okay! I'm joining!" Cirilla wholly accepted the idea of that and pulled your arm to surround beside her and Geralt; his hand immediately falling on your side, grabbing you closer once you were pulled by the pretty child.

The giggles that he heard from you both has lifted a smile on his brooding, sharp features. He lowly hummed in content before lifting his eyes off his girls in his arms to glance at Jaskier who seemed to suddenly be out of humor.

"Bard." he gruffly called out, amused from how the troubadour was despondent from the whole thing happening. Geralt gave an audible huff, alarming Jaskier because he knew what he was thinking. The witcher was thinking how pathetic he was looking to be so withdrawn over the abrupt embraces under the newly emerging morning sun.

"A dust mite mustn't interfere with a family group hug---oof! This is harassment!"

Jaskier was strongly pulled by Geralt who took no complaints over the embosom he was in, puffing out a frustrated breath as he tried to pull back from the embrace but had no choice when the witcher was using his strength, his hand behind the poet. His slight struggle painless for him. He gave the bard a strong pat on the back that made him cough out on how his lungs hurt from the sudden attack.

His grapples were cut short when you've placed your palm just below Geralt's; giving Jaskier a hug as well. Your touch felt unexpected as the white wolf heard his sudden heart palpitations over the subtle brush of your fingers on his friend.

Geralt knew, but not you.

Jaskier will be fine. If this was the only affectionate gesture that he could get you in, so be it. His unrequited affection will go away slowly, he hoped.

The white wolf's departure haven't lasted for a day till you were low spirited enough to stare out onto the windows, sitting on the stoned sill of the windows. Your viewpoint giving such reverence over how immeasurable their world could offer. From trees to the core of their land certainly looked earthy to you. A facsimile of what your world has been. Do they have oceans too? Noodles? Oh, you definitely wanted noodles for thinking about it.

Kaedwen. It was what their kingdom is called. You've also heard about Nilfgaard. Novigrad. But, you have no idea as to what it looks like rather than the kingdom of Kaedwen that looks no good like how you imagined Switzerland to be if you were talking about how the government treats their people.

Humans were treated poorly and even to the point of selling themselves as slaves; remembering what you have heard and saw while walking around the marketplace back then. They were living in dirt and striving to live with the ones who were abundant, seeing like they could never surpass to be cared for like they were humans.

Their government are treating them like garbage. The medieval movies you've watched were real because you also remember how you were close to being sold by a nobleman because no one knew who you were; having no name or a bloodline that could save you from being abjected.

Except for Geralt who needed to create a bloodbath just for you to live. The act alone has probably given him a violation against their law because of how he'd killed knights or people. Or was it legal for it happen?

You were staring far too long out in the open; waiting for your witcher to come back. What if he was away to probably find the sorceress that could bring you back home? Or better yet, what if he did find Yennefer and comes back choosing her instead because you're too dependent over him. His tiny mortal who always needed saving?

What if he gets tired of you? will he throw you away just like how people treat their lovers in earth when they're bored of each other?

What if you've just existed in their dimension because you were needed to fill the empty gap of Geralt's heart until he finds the sorceress?

You've asked Jaskier about it the past few days ago which has left your heart in a disgruntled mess when you've had answers over his relationships he never tells about.

"So, Yennefer, huh?" you've followed Jaskier out of the house. Nightfall was about to come by soon and Geralt wasn't around as he left with no words. The bard jogged through the end of the meadow till he'd reach the edge of the vast forest, twigs and branches breaking apart from every step when you've trailed behind him with a bothered heart.

"What?---Oh! You're asking me who she is?" Jaskier crouched to pick up blocks of wood that will cover up the whole night full of brisk as darkness was bound to visit soon. You hugged yourself to calm down the goosebumps that rose your skin when the cold hits you,"---Would you want a simplified explanation or a detailed one?"

You thought for a moment before feeling your heart beat ringing in your ears. It was that loud for the anticipation running in your veins for how curious you were about Geralt and a vision of his past, "The simplified one,"

Jaskier continued his rummaging, picking up woods after woods as he nonchalantly tittle-tattled, "She's a strong, fierce sorceress. Nice too because she's helped me out of a curse but also kind of rude to me---I am not biased just because of the whole crow’s feet ordeal---they've shared quests and I've been there to witness how they connect with each other. However, their relationship has lots of ups and downs. They've somehow find each other no matter what happens back in the decades except for now."

Your throat felt like there was some phantom hands trying to choke you; constantly bickering back to tell how strong and powerful she was that they've shared tales and adventures. It was downing over your head about how much of a burden you have been to Geralt, the constant feeling of your relationship with him being the cause of the responsibility he had for taking you because he had no other choice that he was the first person you've encountered.

You were definitely the most useless amongst his prior lovers.

He shrieked when a large bug has flew over his face, flicking them away with his hands as he threw his arms around; trying to hit the bug with a block of wood as he continued to talk, "---Move away, you shite of a bug!---Geralt stopped finding her due to reasons I have no clue about and because he needed to avoid people at all costs---but---oh, gods. It’s quite difficult to explain,"

Jaskier has gathered all the wood he needed. You've reach out to help him carry the blocks but before you could even touch them, he'd stepped away and walked around you as he continue to speak, "Oh, and about Renfri; don't bother nor think about it."

He heard your footfalls following him back to the meadow and even heard you exclaim, "Why?"

"She's reached her demise. Explains why Geralt has a moniker named the 'butcher of Blaviken'. Ended up killing her to save an ignoble child named Masha---Martha---Marilka?! Oh, whatever! He chose that to save the innocent lives of people instead. He never told you that?"

Your felt the needles poking through your chest because of how naive it felt to know nothing about it, also feeling sad about her early demise. You've remembered how Geralt ceased his stories when he'd reach the part where he went to a town named Blaviken; not even bothering to tell you that he has met a woman named Renfri and somehow had such hapless fate between them both.

You felt foolish. Ignorant over a story that was never told. Hence, it was enough to turn that smile upside down as you quietly muttered, "No."

Jaskier stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up as you stood beside him with a frown. He'd given you the twinkle of his pretty baby blue eyes with a sympathetic smile as he uttered, "That's never new, though. It's understandable. I've experienced it too, don't worry. Geralt has always been Geralt. He rarely becomes loquacious,"

You've crossed your arms behind your back, your fingers fidgeting; nails scratching your palm from how you were feeling the tiny prickle of your nerves telling that you weren't in the best part of your brain. The dragging feeling on your chest adding more weight from the start that Jaskier has opened his mouth to chat.

"He does that for anyone, huh? Saving people, I mean."

Jaskier was oblivious about how you've turned your head away to anxiously nibble on your lower lip. He was incognizant over your disappointed mental breakdown of your own self because he went on to simply tell, "No matter how he says that he doesn't want to be involved nor desires for anyone needing him. He still saves them because---"

You immediately cut him off, swallowing the tight knot in your throat, looking at him in the eye with a disheartened gaze, "He doesn't want people needing him?"

"Geralt never liked it. But, guess what brought you here! You! Even had the chance of needing Geralt because you were lost and vulnerable. Was it out of pity? I---I---No. No. Definitely not out...of...pity?"

When the moment he'd seen your eyes, Jaskier was quick to know that he made the wrong choice of words and even the topic to tell. He gave an awkward grin, instantly regretting what he said when you've shifted those eyes to look away.

"Why did they never see each other again?"

The bard has cursed himself repeatedly inside his mind, praying to the gods that you won't be mad at Geralt when he comes home because him and Cirilla didn't need another chance of being surrounded by the silence eating them up when you both are having misunderstandings or issues about each other.

"The witcher has made mistakes. He let her slip away. They've parted after a pretty intense fight."

He'd pretty much simplified everything, sounding like he told it to you in bullet form and left you alone in the middle of the field as he ran back inside. Though, it was too late. You've heard what is needed to know and the discomfort that dropped inside your stomach felt like these feelings you had for Geralt was already serious.

It was definitely too late because you've lately realized that liking him wasn't the correct term. Love felt better and deeper.

Soft knocking has pulled you off your reverie which has made you blink as you swiftly turned your head to see a child whom you also have a soft heart for. This child that has no idea why she was being persecuted---or maybe you were the person who had no thought again as to what reason and purpose does Nilfgaard want from her because honestly, all you could see from her was a child who had nobody left behind for her to console. If it wasn't for Geralt, she probably would have been taken by the people who want her.

You narrowed your gaze and gave her a bit of your scrutiny, angling your head in a way that tells the child you were trying to look through her. Did she have some sort of magic too? Was she a mutant too?

"Mum'?---will it be alright for me to call you that? I--I---I don't want to call you rat or midget," she tried to call you for the third time. Her bright cobalt eyes buoyant as she wend one's way, ceasing before you with a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" you softly pardoned with a sweet smile.

The princess couldn't help but bashfully give a beam, conscious if you've said that because you didn't want to be called that way. But, she gave no second doubts and repeated her questions again; anxiously and hopeful to undertake.

"Can I call you Mum'? Everybody has a nickname for you and also considering how you've started taking care of me---with---with Geralt now deeming as your beloved..." she trailed off in the middle of her sentence and you waited for her to continue but it was intentionally left to be dithered.

Heat traveled towards your cheeks. The princess wanted to call you 'Mum'? you silently questioned yourself. Your heart beat was racing from being accepted by his child of surprise, sounding like she wanted you to be her mother and seeing her fret before you made you think that she would gladly be your daughter as long as you were comfortable.

"Beloved? Right! Right! You can call me anything you want, Ciri."

The affirmation made her give you a toothy grin. Cirilla didn't think twice and merrily cajoled with a small hop of her feet that were close against each other, "Great, Mum'! Can you teach me how to bake?---maybe a cake---oh! Or a very scrumptious bread!?"

Your sullen features have been promptly lifted on the spot. You've grasped onto what she wanted, a distraction from how apprehensive she seemed to be like from the way her heels tap on the stone floor and to the way her forehead was slightly creased like she was on pins and needles. The princess was even worried because Geralt wasn't around to guard anyone in the household.

Her wrist was quickly snatched by you, pulling her out of your chambers and running through the hallway, towards down the stairs with heavy, excited thumps.

"Of course! would you like me to teach you how I'd baked blueberry muffins from the other night?"

The lion cub of Cintra hummed in mirth, nodding behind despite of knowing you couldn't see her as you pulled her around. Your eyes scanned the first floor of the house to see Kolby snuffling the front door with Jaskier no where to be seen.

You passed by the newly fixed table; knowing that Geralt ended up fastening back what was ruined. Trying to whisk your head away, you did you best not to feel the warmth spread over your face. Toes were lifted up to the highest as you reached for the door of the cupboards to see the bowls all gone when the last time you remembered; the white wolf has changed the position of plates in a much lower level for your sake.

Jaskier was just intentionally doing it right now and it made your blood boil for his constant teasing.

"I'm going to strangle that bard. I swear to Thor; I hope he hits Jaskier with a lightning---where did he even place all the bowls again?!" you complained more so to yourself as Cirilla was left standing on your side, waiting for your next command.

You've gestured with your hand, making her stay inside the kitchen while you walked away. The Hirikka suddenly howling out of the blue when you jogged towards the front door, stepping out of the threshold as Kolby followed suit.

"Jaskier?!" a loud yell echoed as you called at the top of your voice; seeing no bard anywhere.

Kolby unexpectedly sprinted, running off your side as he turned along the path around the house where the back door lead to.

You groaned out loud, strolling to where the Hirikka went, "Jaskier! Will you please tell me where---Jaskier!"

An ear-piercing shriek left your lips. Heart stopped from beating, your blood running cold as you were filled with panic and fear from seeing Jaskier hunkered down in the middle of chevaliers circling him like he was being tyrannized.

Armored gallants sat on their horses, their helmets taken off their faces which has given you images of what they looked like. A mixture of different ethnicity that you were well aware of back in earth. But, they've shared gazes in their eyes that placed you in a horrified position that tells everything was about to go down and it wasn't just Jaskier hunched on the ground.

When he heard your footsteps, he was pleading that you wouldn't actually visit the back part of the house but seeing Kolby safeguarding as he stood in front of you; thoroughly feral and livid for visitors that weren't invited at all, Jaskier knew all hell was about to break lose.

"A liar, bard." you've heard that voice back in the marketplace, a timbre you didn't wish to hear ever again as it haunts you with memories that he was a mystical being and the person who has stabbed you to bleed.

"The witcher didn't bring his little woman all along," Tybalt's breath fanned your ears, making you hastily step away from the vampire with your eyes all wide from the spine-chilling memory that gets you shunning away. Kolby was rapid enough to slip in between the uncomfortable space that Tybalt has locked you in, all predatory and wild as the movement made you stumble down beside Jaskier.

You've coughed out from being accidentally pushed to the ground, the knights of Kaedwen stepping back to include you in the tyranny of hopeless pleading. The bard's lip was wounded. Broken. Bleeding. Claret colored liquid painting his teeth which tells that they've been bashing him for quite some painful minutes. His doublet untidy and disordered from their constant forceful pulling.

"Rat," he weakly groused, holding onto his battered stomach. Jaskier tightly blinked the dirt out of his eyes as he spitefully spat the blood, wiping the blood off his busted lip with the back of his hand. His golden dagger tightly on his palm as he ceaselessly jested. The words coming out of his lips sounding familiar as you remembered you've said it to him before in the middle of being taken.

"---You had one job."

NO UPDATE FOR THIS UPCOMING JUNE 27, BB’S! I’mma take a break! (Or not because I always end up opening my drafts and try to write lmao) I’ll probably write the future chapters for everyone and so, I won’t get stuck on procrastinating before school starts in about after 2 months. LMAO. I get anxious when I think about this fic being unfinished due to random reasons because I don’t want that. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you)

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

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

General taglist: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh,

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princesscas · 4 years

Note

That N*ncy and her crew came at me for making a parallel post and started abusing and mocking me and they didn’t ever give me a chance to explain I was pointing out the differences between the two moments. They made me leave the fandom as a result because I was so upset and shocked by their hostility to someone who literally just made that one post. It was crushing...

UGH JESUS CHRIST- Alright strap in, this is a loooong one ‘cause I need to let out some steam. *Puts on some (live!) Alice In Chains while I write this*

First off before I delve deep into this: I’m so, so, so, sorry that happened to you. You never, ever, ever, deserved that nor anyone else. Block them. I’ve had N & Crew blocked for years (even another blog when N’s original blog got removed by Tumblr, yes that happened) I would not be surprised in the slightest if N talks about me and others on here but I wouldn’t know thanks to that wonderful button.

I’ve noticed over the years that they love to prey on smaller blogs and people new to the fandom. They love to scare people away, just like you. no matter what. You like Cas? “You’re a Casti-ewer!!” You like Deancas? “Leave destiheller!” You like Mish? “Ew, a minion!” You like Gen & Danneel? “Go away beard stans!” I’m not exaggerating on those names. They’ve made up countless names and the mockery they do is outright disgusting. In fact, just last night while I was on a block-spree, N made a comment on a post saying she couldn’t stand working at Staples because her co-worker was, and I quote, "worked with a castiheller, we didn’t get along that well.” Jesus, leave the poor guy alone with his opinions on the show, would you? This is what they do. Ordinary fans off the street aren’t even safe. Think the show got better once Cas or another character was introduced? You are now their enemy.

Many fandoms have toxic sides to them, I know and I’ve seen others even when I wasn’t too involved with them. But the ‘Bronlies’ side of the Superdooperbloop fandom? This shit is on some new levels kind of toxic. You can’t reason with these people. No matter what, they will twist your words and spin their bullshit around like they’re better than everyone else.

I said to that hate blog, use a blacklist addon (heck, I think Tumblr has implemented this feature now) and what did they say? "Learn how to be a civilized and productive member of society instead of a spoiled entitled brat. There is something seriously wrong with them.” The fuck? I came off as nice as could be and they threw that up right in my face. It’s impossible. I’m legit concerned with these people. If this is how they treat others on the internet, what the hell do they do in real life? That’s scary.

They hate any and everyone who writes fanfic with Canon-Divergence. (or art or anything for that matter) They spew this bullshittery: “You forget the REAL Canon.” I feel like I’m going to turn into Doom Guy levels of rage at that.

They yell, ‘This isn’t canon therefore you can’t do that.’ It’s utter bullshit because they don’t consider what happens in the last seasons (4 above and 13+ especially) canon. It’s 3000% hypocritical. Also 2) They say we can’t have destiel but they can go on their merry way with w////t. I don’t ship shame, that’s not who I am but some of them ship w/////t as underage in some of the more fucked up ways imaginable. I’m not talking AO3 Teacher/Student fucked up, I’m talking...I’m stopping right there no one needs to know about that.

They exclude (and hate) every single character except Salmon and Deer. It’s like they refuse to realize that these character have other relationships. They claim time and time again that Deancas shippers have harassed the cast/crew/writers when the reality is the complete opposite. The shit Gen, Danneel, and other female cast members have faced is criminal.

I wish N*ncy4*4 and Co would just give up and leave already. Jen, Jar, Mish, Danneel, Gen, Rich, and the entire cat has said time and time again, they do not like nor endorse that side of the fandom. Gen and Danneel especially because they’ve personally faced that crew since they’re both on Instagram now. These people...act like Jar and Jen don’t know nor realize they don’t want them in the fandom.

God, I long for the day after the show ends. Imagine when Mish and everyone can just...talk about things they weren’t able to before. I don’t know if they would talk about it but I’d give anything for it to happen. Mish esp with the way he’s been treated over the years.

I don’t know if you or anyone else knows about this, but she literally trash talked the orphanage in Hati that Random Acts built. Here’s a video of Misha basically saying ‘f-you’ to that post.

Again, I’m so sorry that happened to you :( Please don’t listen to them. I know they love to claim they’re 95% of the fandom but the reality is they’re 5%. Go ask a random Souperbloop fan on Reddit or anywhere outside of Tumblr, they won’t know a damn thing about whatever these antis think.

I’m ending this with a Reggie quote:

#anti bibros #anti bronlies #i hate using anti tags for anything but this warrants it #hi antis if you're reading this!#drama for ts #mandy answers anon #Anonymous #long post for ts

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orionsangel86 · 5 years

Link

So I tweeted this on Twitter the other day, quoting something @tinkdw tweeted that I think is extremely important. I want to explain in far more than 250 characters why I feel it is important to spread the word here. Why it is important that Supernatural fans do not support and continue to follow sites that are run, moderated, and completely controlled by some of the most vicious bullies in this fandom.

Whilst mostly my tweet and Tink’s original tweet received positive responses, I did see some comments which made statements along the lines of “well since that site isn’t actively hating on anyone I am gonna keep following” and “I haven’t seen anything but positive stuff from them so I don’t see the big deal.”

I want to address this line of thinking because it IS a big deal. It is a big deal that a hugely popular SPN fan site is actively run by some of the most vicious and vile people who call themselves “fans” of this show. It is majorly concerning that these same people who spend their days attacking fans, tagging the writers and the actors in their hateful disgusting tweets, and go out of their way to harass and even encourage violence against the cast members of this show we as a fandom are supposed to support and love, moderate one of the biggest fandom fan sites going.

It doesn’t matter if they don’t actively post hate on the main fan account, that is like being a wolf in sheeps clothing, and the influence is already quite clear to me. I have read the attempts at episode reviews that fansite has churned out over the years - appalling garbage opinions that heavily lean towards brother romanticism and bemoan anything remotely focused on Castiel. Sarcastic comments and negative language as well as heavy criticism on any episodes that don’t follow a very tight brother focus. A site that almost exclusively keeps its “positive posts” to the brothers and J2 and practically never includes any other cast members, refuses to acknowledge Misha’s charity work or even say a nice word about him. A site that slammed Wayward Sisters before it even got off the ground.

Can you see what I mean? Just because it isn’t actively hateful, doesn’t mean it isn’t influencing it’s followers. Propaganda can be found in all corners of human society, and this website is a very specific form of propaganda within this fandom. It is the propaganda that tells you that nothing matters on this show unless it is Sam and Dean, tied at the hip, romanticised until death, and nothing else is important. A complete and utter lie if ever there was one. This fandom and various fan surveys, polls and statistics over the years have proven time and again that the show thrives because of its family theme, and because of the Winchesters AND Castiel, and the relationship between the three of them. The majority of this fandom supports the entire cast, supported Wayward Sisters, supports the found family dynamic, and yes, I’m gonna go there - supports Destiel.

For a show that currently is trying to push a family narrative, encourage openness and acceptance within fandom, and promote the TFW dynamic as the heart, this website is fucking toxic. Just like its mods.

So no, I won’t accept it when fans who claim to be inclusive continue to support this website which actively alienates and discourages any opinions that deviate from those of its mods. The fansite itself is very subtle in its influence. It won’t ever actively hate or be negative, but literally a quick scroll of their twitter or glance at their website should be enough for anyone who loves this show for more than just w*ncest to be put off.

Do not be fooled by the woolly disguise. Every single day Vinnie and Susan are out there spewing their hateful opinions, attacking Misha, harassing the Stands merch account. You should see the things they said about Meghan after Piece of Mind aired. Becky is quieter nowadays, but make no mistake she is just as bad as those two. They consider the likes of Special K and Kami to be their friends. These people are all the worst scum this fandom has to offer. Please DO NOT support any website affiliated with them.

#fandom wank #supernatural #destiel #cockles #castiel #misha collins #I'm spamming the tags of the sides of fandom i want to see this #though if it does get noticed by undesirables I don't actually give a damn #I've not said anything that isn't factual #I am not having my last year of SPN tarnished by these people #fandom needs to come together and prove that hate isn't welcome here #we must stop them from having any influence #anti antis

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yellowshibe · 5 years

Text

epilogue reaction rant

i am SURE this has been said but from the pov of a long long term hs fan seeing people angry about the epilogues and saying homestuck is cancelled etc is so fucking obvious to me that a good 90% of this fandom sees homestuck as a comfort, not an actual piece of content (more under the cut.)

its just crazy to me that people are legitimately telling hussie/v/jenna/etc that they’ve destroyed the comic, the characters, the fandom is wild rn with people saying the epilogue doesn’t exist...etc. its just so telling of how yall view homestuck as a whole, itself, even the comic. ESPECIALLY the comic.

homestuck, rereading it now as an adult, is a piece of media so intensely entrenched in PAIN, trauma, young/teen confusion petaining to relationships both romantic and parental, abuse, literal death and gore, meta universe bullshit, like guys. its about 13 year old children being saddled with the responsibility of not only each others lives and the fate of their and others universes, but also so much death. so much death! everyone they know dies - family, and every human, every species on their homeworld. and they are 13.

when i was 13, my bangs, my clothes, instagram were stressful for me. i am neurodivergent and left school in 8th grade. i found homestuck thru a childhood friend right before - and reading it the first time, i skimmed, i barely read any pesterlogs till act 5. it took me 3 years thru to act 6. (i think). and i never actually finished it. i never saw the last flash, i never paid attention to upd8s. i was a kid busy being fucked up and out of school and bed bound. but now im 20, and im rereading it with my girlfriend. its such, such a different piece of work than 13-15 year old me experienced. homestuck, essentially, is a story of stories. it’s over 150 (?) characters OWN lives and arcs and plots and deaths tangled up in each others. like literally, it is about where you came from, who you came from. how you were raised and how that effects you. how your lineage and your OWN timeline can fuck you up. both of them! how you are just a kid and its hard and NOBODY understands. it encapsulates such an intense feeling of middle/highschool depression and GROWTH - thru trauma and pain and wanting love and the love being offered not being enough or its weird and whatever else inner workings 13 to 16 year olds have. THAT I HAD.

and on the other hand, homestuck is a tragedy. its as long as ulysses. it’s so so painful. so many characters, side or beloved, die, tragically and bloodily and painfully and sometimes only as a semi plot device. a lot of the time the death is meaningless in the moment - if the character is lucky, it matters later on. but something i see hussie put across so often is the set up of tropes in characters or situations only to destroy it. remember in like 2013 when an upd8 would drop and people would make wild predictions with just the most obscene random bullshit, because we all knew hussie was FUCKING CRAZY and would fuck shit up just to fuck shit up? that was probably my favorite aspect of the fandom back then - people wildly spewing ideas and theories and us all waiting with baited breath for the next installment and to see who was right about how fucking crazy huss is and also how well we knew our characters and our assumptions of plot and LORE. where is that mentality now? where are people saying holy shit. this is so intense. this is SO GOOD.

when i started reading the epilogues i went in with the assumption the people who created it could FUCK us up, and over. i honestly expected WORSE - that huss/etc would create and insanely twisted (plot wise) convoluted not satisfying or real ending. but they chose to make it TOO real. to comment on the characters humanity. the entrapment of characters and huss himself imo in fanon. how people’s interpretations of his/their work was becoming so warped post end of hs. and yall really outdid yourselves! you all chose to see this work, tragic and fucked up and HUMAN as it is, and say. oh well you didn’t write it HAPPY, so i don’t like it. you, hussie, the creator, chose to end this work with pain and trauma and more death, and even though that was in the comic, since i see everyone i like from hs as happy go luck comfort characters, i am removing myself from something i love denying canon and denying hussie his autonomy as a creator because I WANTED IT TO MAKE ME FEEL GOOD..????????

please i implore you go reread the comic. it is JUST as fucked up as the epilogue - but thru the eyes of 13 year old kids, not thoroughly traumatized and broken and angry 23 year olds who hate each other but only HAVE each other, interacting w fascism and transphobia and unwillingness to confron one another because this is it, this is all we get. as a freshly new adult tm. i fucking loved it. it touches on so many interpersonal and PERSONAL fucked up things about being an adult in the wake of the destruction of your childhood and sense of reality. its such a relatable and painful thing but its NOT bad - they chose to make it this way, they also chose to warn us, to tag triggers, to say take your time, its 700,000 words and its painful . and yall are ignoring that bc your fucking fav character isnt happy, like jesus. homestuck as a work grew up. so should we.

#blah blah blah #homestuck #homestuck epilogue #homestuck spoilers #tw #trigger warning #these r my thoughts u dont have to agree dont climb into my inbox w hate bc we disaree thanks

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pywriting · 8 years

Text

SGSW Finale: Again and Again

Final Prompt: Write about your characters leitmotifs

What is it that makes a man become who he is in specific?

Is it the experiences he held? The teachings he learns? The people who he meets along the way? All of it, perhaps?

Faervell was of a mind to believe perhaps it was just who he was in his soul. A pre-written plan, laid out long before he would dare to think, of just who he was to be. So often, it seemed, that no matter what he did or how much he fought against things, he was settled in the same resounding idea.

He never wanted to be perfect. He never wanted to spend countless hours perfecting something that he swore was right the first fifty times, but he just had to check over another ten.

He never wanted to be scared of failure...

… to be scared of mistakes…

… to be consumed…

… to be lost.

Time and time again, he’d went over the dialogue. What to say, what to do, where to stand, when to listen and when to talk. He’d done it what felt like a thousand times with his sister, running through every situation that they could think of, and finally he thought he had it.

When they went into the meeting, it was hard to call him anything but cocky. He knew that this was an easy sale, he was well groomed, and so far it had been nothing but a great morning. While the nerves ate away at his stomach, he made sure to brace his back and stand as straight as he could with square shoulders, shadowing the familiar motions he watched his entire life.

Today they were to meet a man by the name of Davnath, speaking of a renewal of the contract they were under with him. He, as Faervell committed to memory, was in the business of creating clothes- particularly corsets. For gods know how long, the Bael’Nars had supplied him their silks to create a soft brand of the product. He had given his father multiple recommendations and was one of their favored customers.

The man himself was older than Faervell’s father with wrinkles in his eyes where the smiles creased them. He had a deep bellowing laugh that resounded in the halls of his home and his manner of speaking was more clipped and casual, even when in the most ‘uptight’ company. Light brown hair was pulled back in a long braid that was down his back and often times the man had been known to have small little flowers deposited in the strands, thanks to his children, of which he had plenty.

It was an easy meeting, and the first that Faervell was to take the lead and be fully introduced in as an apprentice to his Father in their trade. It wasn’t as if it was so surprising, considering he’d been learning their trade since he could remember, but it was an important sort of thing no matter. Which, of course, was why he was all the more determined to do his best.

When they entered the study, there was that overwhelming sense of warmth and welcome. Faervell’s smile warmed a bit as he felt just as comfortable as if he were back home. It was a good sort of feeling, and he was glad that this was going to be where they did their work. He recalled far too many times going with his father to places that were cold and stiff, so very unwelcoming.

Everything was going so smoothly.

The time passed so quickly, the conversation light hearted and filled with humorous overtones. The business was littered within stories of things that had happened lately or news that seemed important enough for Davnath to mention at the time.

Everything seemed perfect.

Leaving the warm study, success on his mind, the boy of only fifteen years had been on what could only be explained as a high. He used that same charm he’d practiced time and time and time again, passing comments to one of those many pretty daughters that filled the man’s home.

He had done so well.

He remembered her sly little smile, the crinkle of her nose as she laughed, the touch of her soft hand against his arm as it trailed down to grab his hand and steal him away. The hours they spent together in a far away room, lingering under one another’s touch and attentions, their lips meeting and tongues dancing.

Long after those moments, he was met only with disappointment and disapproval.

It hadn’t taken too long to piece together what had happened, and he could swear the stinging slap of his father’s hand across his face did not hurt near as bad as the words that he spat at him.

Those little intimate moments ruined everything. That well practiced tongue had led him into trouble, and because of it, his father only regarded him with disdain for god’s know how long. It was reckless, and due to it, they lost quite a bit for years to come.

No matter where he looked or who he turned to, the same answer came to him. In those oh so young days, he first started to think of himself as something that he’d truly be…

… a mistake.

Surely, it hadn’t been the first time he’d made a mishap, and it certainly had not been the last time.

No, that much was certain.

The reason it stuck out so much was because of how much it meant. Even in memory, he could feel a sting of the large man’s hand against his skin, warming it in the most painful way. The way his words echoed again and again.

“How could you do this to us?”

“Do you know what it will cost us?

“Don’t you look away, this is your fault, boy!”

“Honestly, Faervell, why can’t you ever just listen to what I tell you to do!”

Why couldn’t he just listen?

She was crying.

It tore at his soul when he saw those bright eyes spill like that, to see pain that he just could do nothing to stop immediately.

Faervell hadn’t been allowed to know strictly at first, what it was that was wrong. Only Ciaragan and their mother would know as they came back from the town’s doctor to explain this mystery that had been plaguing their home for what felt like an eternity now.

The siblings rarely held secrets from one another, and why should they?

This had been one of the few things she’d kept from him thus far, and it was driving him insane to not understand what it was that had made her feel this terrible sadness. A sadness that reverberated to himself in a way that he knew only they would share.

He tried to talk to her, tried to ask gently at first what it was that was wrong, but in the end all she did was lash out at him.

Like an echo in a valley, their emotions kept mixing together, and while he felt this immense sadness, so did he feel the frustration that was growing between the both of them. It intensified, and frustration melded into hints of anger at her lack of response.

How could she keep things from him? From her own brother? When he shared everything, why did she keep this?

He became upset, and the words spilled from his lips like a man whom had drunk far too many shares. It was painful, and he felt the weight of it right then, instantly getting stung with words of her own spewing out hateful insults that lead to something more; something else.

Like a spark against dry leaves, the fire spread out.

He heard her then, heard the words that held so much weight in those times of what laid for their future- no, for her future.

It wasn’t his right to know that Ciaragan was unable to bear any children. If anything, he should have apologized and tried to find a way to comfort her, to take this knowledge as an understanding and find ways to mend his harsh approach.

Yet he hadn’t.

He didn’t listen.

He made something so large to her, seem small. In the end, his words became accusatory and he blamed her for this all. Wanted her to apologize, wanted her to explain, wanted her to be what he wanted her to be.

That was his mistake.

One that he would repeat, again and again, bringing this up to her in the worst of moments in rage as if it were something he was allowed to use as ammo against his own blood.

The memories always made him cringe. Oh, how he wished he could go back. How he wished he could seal his mouth and instead simply wrap his arms around her and take care of her, to protect her.

That’s what he promised to do for her, wasn’t it? To always protect her?

It never worked that way for him, though, did it? That wasn’t who he was.

He was just a man who made mistakes. Over and over again, like a sick process.

Too many… he made too many…. Again and again and...

“Again!”

Faervell heard the words, harsh and abrasive to his ears. His hands shook with fatigue and fear, he felt the sweat against his skin, doing nothing to cool the heat that burnt at his fingertips now.

Green flames were sparked and tossed, again they would grow and he’d struggle all he could to keep up with the others that were near. It wasn’t easy, and he was scared of the fire that threatened to consume him entirely. So very scared.

Night after night, he fell asleep in the small loaned room that he worked so hard to keep. Each day, more spells would be learned and he had to hear Baeraeus’s judgement pass upon him.

Always, he was told to repeat it. Always, he was told he was not doing enough. Always, he was told he was just barely passing.

He drove himself to study more, to do anything to catch up to the rest, to catch up to his sister. He couldn’t fail, he couldn’t be left behind. His needs brought him to a book, a old tome that seemed to give off the most disturbing feeling as his fingers pressed against the pages.

Late at night, he’d taken himself down to the large room. The book and reagents had been left there, gathered days prior and hidden away in places Faervell thought no one would look. He was determined, reading each of the spells needs and creating that circle that would summon the ticket to what surely would make him someone who would be respected, someone that wasn’t just a burden.

The chant cut at his tongue, each syllable too sharp for him and caused blood to form in his mouth as he bit at the tip of his tongue every third syllable. He ignored the pain, bit it down with the desperation for something more, to show that he was more.

Such a brief moment it had been, that fools victory.

The magic flowed around him, caught him like a fly in it’s web, and that demon that haunted his every step was brought forth.

The flames scared him. The flames scarred him.

He should have died, and so many times he was reminded of it. He was taunted and punished, left broken in the rooms with only Ciaragan given to him to keep him alive in the days that dragged on after he tried to snatch away power that was far too high for him to reach.

Constantly, he remembered the incident. He repeated it over and over, try and find the spot he ruined it, and repeat it once over again. It tormented his days and nights, and in those days he started to come to realize who he was.

A mistake.

The dreams filled with demons spoke of his failure. The echos that only he heard would follow him like a shadow in the night. Somewhere in his mind, it was always there, gnawing at him and filling him with so much doubt that he could only swallow down and cover from others.

He wanted to run from it, wanted to do anything to deny it.

“Again.” He heard the voice, antagonizing him.

Yet it was true.

“Again.” He did it again and again.

It is true.

“Again.” He repeated over and over.

Still it haunted him.

The voices mingled with others, like sharp reminders of every time he just couldn’t escape from.

It made him panic, made him scared at times.

He questioned himself at every step, and suddenly he found himself obsessing over every detail. Again and again, he would run through things, perfect them so that he would be anything but that mistake that marked him body and soul.

No matter what he did, though, did he ever succeed?

Sharp fingers finally drew away, leaving behind only exhaustion and pain in their wake.

Faervell’s mind swam, making him dizzy and sick to his stomach. He didn’t know where to focus, and all he could do was try and breathe, try to keep going. The demon before him that tore into his mind time after time giving him some small weak rest for it’s own amusement.

This was his punishment.

He heard the words from the demon before him, or was that another voice? Was that the voice of another that it stole or was it the person themselves?

He couldn’t focus, couldn’t bring his mind to comprehend it fully. Had he tears to shed, he would have without shame. It hurt and he felt broken, bindings pinning him to a stone that tore at his skin wherever they touched.

This was his punishment for his mistake.

Only one?

Was it truly just one failed summoning that had caused this?

The memories spilled over, flashes of moments that echoed the sentiment. Times before he had his abilities, the people he ran from, the people he chased away. The decisions he made. It was as if his mind was trying to comprehend how he became stuck here.

Seeing his lovers sad smiles, seeing the distance between them that he caused.

Seeing Ciaragan’s sadness, fear, anger, determination faced against him. Having to take care of him, take care of what he’d done.

Seeing his friends killed time and time again, and he hadn’t been strong enough.

Seeing Esme’s back as his greed- no, his need to do something to prove himself as more nearly tore her away permanently.

Seeing Shahrissa’s grin, hearing her voice in his ears…

“This is your punishment.”

Was that her? Was it truly?

The voices always meshed together, weaved into this whisper that drowned out every sound. Reminded him of something that made him feel helpless and fearful.

No, it wasn’t just one mistake that had brought him to that place where the demons tormented him. He had to accept that, and as the demon before the stone reached forward, he knew it was nothing but what was to come to someone like him.

Someone that was a failure.

Someone that was a mistake.

Faervell remembered it all again, his mind drifting over these times as if they meant something important, as if he needed all that much more a reminder of it.

Mistake.

He couldn’t hear the battle any more. He couldn’t hear the screams of retreat, and already there was a darkness that threatened to consume him.

He felt the blood seep from his armor, arrows pierced into him as he was left there on the dirt and grass stained red. There were others around him, and in some sick fashion, it seemed all he could do was focus on these corrupt elves that had shot him down.

Another mistake.

He thought it was a better path, to help the others there. That demon shouldn’t have been allowed to live, and he had seen to using some of the last bits of his energy to take it down, despite the pain of his own wounds threatening to make him fall over right then and there. He had ignored the retreat, had ignored his pain, had ignored everything but this twisted creature he felt this desperate need to destroy and send back to the nether.

How futile it would be, in the end.

The demon would come back, and as he laid there in the grass, a dark feeling of despair filled his aching chest. What was the point of it all, then? To allow himself to go down, to watch as his allies ran from the field.

His eyes slowly started to close, and he watched as the distant figure of another ran away, limping from the mess of archers that surrounded him now. He wanted to call out for her help, to plead for her to come and save him, to get him before it was too late, yet his tongue wouldn’t move.

This is your punishment, Faervell.

This was your mistake.

Another mistake, Faervell.

Why can’t you just listen?

Why can’t you just do things right?

He shut out the sight of this place and felt himself fade into a unconscious state, the echos of a million voices whispering in his mind, digging into him like the thorns of a bush that grew tight against him, choking out any other thought.

Before he would fall to darkness completely, the last words filled his mind like a deadly echo:

Another Mistake.

@thesunguardmg @sparklepriest @postmoderndaughter @jessipalooza

#The Sunguard #Site Write #Faervell Bael'Nar #Faervell #I have finished it #bless

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