#you have to wonder if she ever did. river song do you know your mother loves you?

[quietwingsinthesky]

Hiiiii! So, a few days ago you were talking about the whole thing with Amy, Rory, and River. And when I saw those posts a thought arose in my head and I wish to share it with you.

Since River grew up with Amy and Rory as Mels. And Mels was Amy's best friend do you think that they ever talked about children? Since I know that it can come up when talking with friends, and like... do you think that Amy might've ever expressed whether or not she wanted children?

And if she didn't, that Mels would've had to listen to her mother say that she doesn't want children? The idea is so heartbreaking and sooo interesting.

What do you think about it?

no, no, see, you're so right and this drives me wild.

because, the way i see it, i don't think amy wanted children. she's somewhere on the 'hasn't thought about it' to 'vaguely negative feelings about it happening' range to me, which falls sharply into 'Not Happening Ever Again' post-s6. (specifically, in terms of having a kid herself, even if she could, i really don't think she would. i do love that she and rory end up adopting a kid later, because that does make sense, for amy pond who grew up alone in one universe with her family swallowed by cracks in time before the doctor helped her set it right again, for her to want to make sure another child won't be alone in the world like she was. getting off-track here.)

and that's so. because the first real memory river/mels has of amy is of amy shooting at her. and depending on how well the silence fucked up the rest of her memory, it might be one of the very first memories she has at all. that's how she met her mother, crying for help and getting a bullet instead. her mother tried to kill her, so of course, you have to think. she must have needed to hear that she was wanted, right? even if she was taken away, even if amy shot her, at some point, melody must have been wanted?

river is good at getting people to do what she wants, but she is very, very bad at subtlety. and mels is younger, has less practice, so when she wants to know this, she's just going to ask. blunt and quick, easy enough because amy's used to the way mels will open her mouth and you just have to be ready to roll with what comes out if you want to keep up. it's why they're such good friends (like mother, like daughter.)

they're nine, and mels asks if amy wants kids, and amy wrinkles up her nose and says she won't have time for children, obviously, once her raggedy doctor finally comes back. they're fifteen, and amy and rory dance will they-won't they in a way that makes mels twitchy to watch, and taunting amy about wanting to have rory's babies is a good way to get on her nerves. but amy calls her gross, tells her she's got more life planned than children would leave room for, and besides, imagine her, a mom? it'd be a disaster.

mels does. a lot. she looks at her mother and just sees her best friend instead. she's not even sure what she wishes was there, but. maybe amy's right. and besides. imagine her, a daughter, instead of the ticking time bomb she really is? it'd be a disaster.

they're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and on. mels stands on the outside of a love story that births a universe. and her. how do you compete with that? not that she would know, not yet, she hasn't been there. but it doesn't make her feel any less alienated when amy and rory talk in whispers about a half-remembered world that's bled through to this life, about roman soldiers and boxes and the big bang of belief.

all these memories, they never mention children. on amy's wedding day, she's different, not like someone remembering a dream but someone who lived it. rory stands straighter, won't leave her side, and they're both so much older than they were yesterday. maybe now, right? a wedding's as good a time as any to decide you want kids.

mels not being at amy & rory's wedding is such an obvious lazy way of them trying to explain why they totally didn't just throw this plot twist together at the last minute that i'm not even going to acknowledge it. of course she was at their wedding. she's their best friend. there's too many people around the doctor, and she wasn't ready today of all days, so despite this horrible burning need under her skin to strike, she stays her hand. doesn't let him dance with her because she might just tear his throat out if he gets too close. stays with amy and rory as the maid of honor should. she must have been there for the awkward questions that always gets asked, 'so, any plans for a baby?' 'when am i getting grandkids?' 'oh, you two are going to have gorgeous children together.' standing a few feet from amy in her wedding dress and watching her mother tense and grit her teeth and brush off the questions. watching her look nervously at rory but never ask if he means it when his mom asks him if he'd prefer a son or a daughter, and rory answers 'either one, some day, not anytime soon.'

god i'm just going on and on, aren't i. but really, what's it like to know that amy never changed her mind. the next time she sees them, she's already been born and stolen. i don't like let's kill hitler for. so many reasons. but there is something compelling about how recklessly river lashes out at the world, at the doctor. even her sacrifice at the end is almost suicidal, throwing all her regenerations into this man without knowing if that will even work or if it might kill her to do it. but it makes more sense in the context of someone who has reached the end of a long, long wait for some kind of indication, any kind, that her mother wanted to have her. and finally been told, no. she didn't choose melody.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.25

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1996

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39

Giving you and Edward privacy, Evita goes back to the bonfire. She does give one last look to the vampire, as if wondering if it was okay to leave you alone with something like him. Regardless, Evita leaves, carrying her bag that held the ritual items she would have used.

You watch her figure join the bundles of trees just to make sure she was heading in the right direction. Satisfied that she’d find her way safely, you turn to Edward who offers his hand out to you. “Care to join me for a walk?”

Hesitant fingers slide along his cold hand. Your body temperatures were solar opposites. The two colliding sent a rippling tingling that started from your palm and up your arm. Edward felt it too as he his body jolts slightly from the sensation.

“Alice called you?” You ask as you fall into step alongside him. “She said you were at Bella’s with the Denalis.”

He nods. “Yeah. But I told them there was somewhere I needed to be. Alice was freaking out. I think I freaked out a little bit more. . .”

The gentle singing of the river gets closer the further you and Edward delve into the forest. Leisurely you bump into one another in a soothing rhythm, wandering with no real destination.

“How is she doing? Bella? I saw her sometime ago and we had lunch.” You hadn’t gained the courage to call her yourself. While the two of you had spoken in a civil manner, you were still uncomfortable with the thought of ringing her up yourself. Jacob wanted friendship to blossom between you and Bella, but it was too soon for that. Especially with Edward making a stance and choosing to go after you.

“Healthy. Healthy and safe.” That was all he ever wanted for Bella. You nod and move to continue along the riverbank but Edward stops you. “Wait. I know we’re fated to be together, but I feel like there is still so much I don’t know about you. You probably know more about me.”

What was there to know about you? Before turning into a wolf, your life had been normal. So normal that it could border on being mind painfully boring. A life of rinse and repeat. Wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, then go to bed to do it all over again the next day. Occasionally on the weekends your small family might go out for a refreshing hike or even fishing.

Going on to tell Edward of your simple life on the reservation, you describe your mother and father; both hard working people and yet always generous to those who had even less n than you did. Like when Harry Clearwater died, they made sure Sue and her kids were fed for weeks. Your mom would stay up late preparing casserole dishes and other easy to heat up meals so that Sue wouldn’t have to worry about her family eating. They even picked up Seth (along with the others) for carpool.

Never wanting them to worry more than they needed to, you tried your entire childhood to be a good kid. Being a wolf though changed that. Now constantly worried about your wellbeing, all you could do was give them hollow promises that you would be safe. That was not the job of a Quileute wolf though. Combating danger was. And fighting vampires guaranteed that you were never safe.

“Do they know about me?” Hesitantly he brings up the imprinting. Unsure of how much your parents really knew about your others life.

Pursing your lips, you relent. “To an extent. They don’t really know imprinting itself but they understand that something is going on between us, whatever that may be. But they don’t know what you or the rest of your family are. Just that you’re descendants from the stories that we tell of the Cold Ones.”

Not it mention that they probably thought you still had a crush on Embry. Your parents saw it immediately when both of you were small children. Their giggles could be heard whenever you and Embry hung out and they were home. Worse was when Quil threatened to tell Embry at one point if you didn’t do whatever he said. That threat didn’t hold up when your hurled your small body at him and pinned him to the ground; hissing that you would spit in his face right then and there if he promised to keep it a secret.

“You know, I still don’t know much about you either. I know that you were the first vampire Carlisle created, but nothing else.” What you really wanted to know was what was his life like when he was a human. But you realize how sensitive that topic could be. His human family was definitely dead by now.

His gaze warms thoughtfully. When he spoke, along with fondness came the sting of sorrow. “Before Carlisle saved me from the Spanish influenza, I grew up in Chicago with a vacant father and a loving mother. Nothing particularly exciting happened during that time. I was seventeen when my mom and I got sick.”

That tender smile twitched downward for a split second at the memory of his mom and the day he became an immortal. You couldn’t imagine losing your own mother the same day you discovered you could live forever.

Edward notices the sad gleam on your face and he makes sure to lift his lips back up into an easygoing grin. “Don’t be sad. I’ve had many decades to mourn and grieve and really understand the opportunity she wanted me to have. With this life I was able to get not one, but two medical degrees, learn a handful of languages, and so much more.”

He truly had lived much longer than you. You were still the young and naive age of sixteen despite looking like a full grown adult thanks to the wolf transformation.

“That’s incredible. I’ve never been out of the state of Washington.” You bemoan and pick through the rocks that lined the slow trickle of water.

He laughs a little. “You still have plenty of time to change that. I never left Illinois when I was human either. There was the option of boarding school out of state, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my mom alone.” Edward sits down along the bank with a sigh and leans his head back. The sky was already a dark blanket with stars embroidered into it. His skin nearly glowed in the starlight.

You wouldn’t learn everything about him in one single night. For now, this was enough.

**

Evita couldn’t help but release a relieved breath as she walked out of the thick of trees and back to Sam Uley’s house. Happy that she didn’t have to perform a life changing spell like that. While she was more than capable, there were a lot of things that could have gone wrong for her to intervene with strong forces. Edward and (y/n)’s differences may prove to be challenging, almost to impossible, but Evita had a good feeling that things would work out for them in the end. Patience and communication was required on both sides. (Y/n) had a good head on her shoulders though. At least from what Evita could see from the short amount of time they had known each other.

Already Evita could see the orange glow of the bonfire and hear many voices reveling. For a second, she felt a ping of homesickness. Being among the warmth of a close knit community had her longing for her family. She wouldn’t be able to go home for quite awhile. There was much work to do here. Her mother had understood the duty she felt and commended her daughter.

Most of the seats closest to the fire were already taken by other members of the pack and elder’s council. There was one seat however that was still empty. Next to the only other female wolf.

Leah right?” Evita walks up to her and points to the plastic folding chair propped next to her. “Is it okay if I take this seat?”

The she-wolf flicked her dark umber eyes over to the witch, nodding her consent silently. Leah observed Evita carefully as she sat. “Where’s (y/n)?”

Grinning, Evita looked back over her shoulder at the forest. “Thought I would let her and Edward have some privacy as they talk.”

That seemed to make her draw even further into herself. “I thought I smelled a leech.”

“Oh? What do vampires smell like to you?” She innocently asked with a cock of her head. Leah had never paused to really describe a vampire’s scent.

“Grossly sweet.” Was all she could find to explain.

Humming with thought, she leans back in her chair, her view filled with the laughing faces of the younger members of the pack and the thoughtful ones of the elders. “How funny and odd this world is.”

Leah didn’t think it was funny at all. More like some cruel joke that she would never get the hang of. In every single way, this whole wolf thing had royally messed up her life. There was no solace she could take.

She knew that if she told Evita about Jacob imprinting on her, that Evita wouldn’t find the world quite so funny.

It was on the tip of her tongue as bitterness nearly won her over. Evita was genuine though and only wanted to get to know the pack better. She was willing to protect them with her magic after all.

Gulping back whatever sour thing she could have said, Leah asked her “Was this your first time encountering vampires?”

“Yes. They weren’t quite as I imagined. A visiting witch came to our house one day and told us about them. How terrifying it is to be in front of one. Even of the massive coven called the Volturi.”

(y/n) had mentioned them too. If they were enough to make the Cullens fear them, then they must be a big deal.

Her concern was palpable and Evita told Leah reassuringly “Like I told the rest of the pack, I’ll do my best to protect everyone here in Forks. I just might need to call in one more person. . .”

Eyebrows lift quizzically, Leah sits up a little straighter. “Another witch?”

She nods. “I would have preferred my grandma to come, but she’s too old for traveling and my mom is too busy taking care of my sisters. There’s someone else I know. Thing is they’re in Haiti right now so it would take a while for them to fly here.”

“You don’t think you can do it by yourself?”

“I can make all the wards myself, but I won’t have enough energy to install them strategically around Forks. I would ask the pack to help me, but they need to have a proper knowledge of magic that would take me months to teach. And with the informants that the Volturi possess, who knows how long we have until they know about this Bella girl.”

Anxiety would have besieged Evita, it should have from all the responsibility. She was good under pressure though and knew that she shouldn’t waste her time worrying. Leah watched the expression of determination calm the witch’s features. Even if it was just herself, she would do the best she could.

“Calling your friend is always worth a shot. . .” Leah murmured; Evita’s beaming confidence was contagious. “You never know. Like you said, the world is odd and funny. They might be able to make it if they plan properly.”

Evita shot Leah a bright smile. “You’re right! I’m going inside to call her.”

Knowing she could offer appreciated assistance, Leah grins to herself and glances over at the dancing flames. Her rigid demeanor softened and one could say she was at peace with herself for but a moment.

——————————

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[seyoonlgc]

tw: mentions of parental neglect, death, emotional abuse & childhood trauma.

Mother had heard about Chuseok, and asked to see him. Though it was only for dinner - a mere three hours of his time, Seyoon responded with no, I have a hair appointment. The line was silent on the other side for some time upon hearing this, and he imagined his mother's perfect brows furrowing from the sheer audacity of this excuse.

He hoped she'd get mad. Would have loved it if she hung up on him.

Instead, she asked again, using a softer voice. Said she will do the dye for him and cook all of his favorite things.

Seyoon relented, because a part of him will always be weak for her was curious if she could deliver on that promise. Wondered if somehow, despite never asking once, she would actually know what he liked.

Disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow, so Seyoon washed it down with some of the well seasoned ginseng chicken soup her majesty had made. She did indeed cook up a table full of food. All of the dishes were delicious, but not a single one was right for him. She also didn't take him to the home she shared with her husband and instead, to the apartment she'd let him use before, bought for her by another man some years ago.

"I'm thinking of going blonde," Seyoon started, but realized she already had the right shade of dye in her hands.

"I know," she answered with a smile that looked hauntingly like his own. "It will suit you." Her majesty sifted through his hair. "My Seyoon will look handsome." Seyoon's heart lifted. "Just not as much as Yoosoo's boy." And it sank. "Never as much as him." Ouch.

Mother, dear mother...Sometimes he wondered why she didn't pretend harder with him the way she did everybody else.

Perhaps she couldn't, after all, she hated him. It was rather despicable, though, how she dared to hate him when she was the one who made the choice to bring him into the world. She forced him to be here and made him endure all the consequences of her irresponsibility and lack of discretion.

There was a time when Seyoon had hoped otherwise. Convinced himself that she perhaps cared about him, and just never reached out because she had good reasons. Even after finding all the letters his step mom hid from him, he still hoped, that's why one call from Korea got him hopping on a plane.

Was it wrong? Was it wrong for a son to want to be loved by his own mother? Was it wrong to leave everything he knew behind just so he could ask why?

People thought he came to this country to follow his dream, but in reality, he was desperately seeking closure.

Want to hear a terrible secret?

There was a song his mother sang to him when he was a baby. In one of the only videos he had of her, she carried him tenderly in her arms and took him for a walk around the pond, humming sweetly. Apparently this was something she did often back in the day. His father remembered part of the harmony and hummed it to him too at times. As a teenager, he searched for the song endlessly and it wasn't until he'd arrived at Korea did he finally find out what it was about. While bearing a lovely melody, the song was about misery and death. A boy who had lost his beloved walked calmly into the river and ended his suffering once and for all. When his mother walked by the pond with her baby, humming about glassy eyes and lungs filling with water, was she perhaps tempted to lose the giggling bundle that was in truth her ball and chain?

Let's be honest, if people did not find out that she had a son prior to this marriage and blow it up, she would have never called him. Everything she was doing after that phone call was for her own image. That was why no matter how wild his parties got or how late he was out drinking, she never scolded him. And in fact, offered hungover soup sometimes in silent encouragement.

Destroy yourself.

Die so you won't be my problem anymore.

I never wanted you, and your father didn't either. Nobody ever did, just die.

Mother started humming the song again, and even now, knowing exactly what it was about, Seyoon felt his shoulders relaxing and his eyelids drooping as if somebody fed him spoonfuls of Nyquil.

This was the first person he'd ever loved - he loved her before knowing her, before knowing himself. This love had become part of his system, ran in his blood through every vein and entrenched deep even into his subconscious. It was poison, and destructive, but the very thought of trying to cleanse her out completely made him stiffen in fear.

See, the mother-child connection had a strength Seyoon could not deny, however toxic theirs was.

[silkendandelion]

Mirage In The Desert - Chapter 3 (One Year Ago)

Summary: With Operation Utopia drawing closer, let's back up. The events leading up to River's arrival at Rainbase are revealed, as well as meeting the people of Alabasta's territory island of Oasis.

Rated Teen and Up Audiences for mild violence, unsafe situations. Ongoing, will cover the Alabasta Arc. Cross-posted on Ao3, same username. Send me a DM: yell at me, send flowers. Cheers.

~*~

The mainland named it Oasis, it’s people: the Oasins. Called “islanders” with varying degrees of politeness, the people who live at port call them “the ones who wear blue”. The island sits exactly 3 and a half miles from Alabasta’s southwest shore, separated by a segmented reef and waters too shallow to sail. They are a patch of green on the horizon that relies on their mainland only as much as they need, and half as much as they want. Every 8 days the sea goes out further than it ever will, called “King Tide” as it bows before the sky, revealing a land bridge that connects the usually isolated island to shore.

And so the clock begins.

The Oasin trading party, aged from 6 to 79, as few as 10 but as many as 30, makes the journey to market. They bring their goods: textiles, fruits, anything they can carry that they do not need. And they must carry it, the bridge is too narrow for more than single-file foot travel and a precious few carts. They arrive in a line of blue linens, bodies decorated with gold and a song that can’t be heard in the hot, Alabastan sun. The shops are anticipating their benevolent neighbors, as eager to please as they are to be on time. Basket after basket is set up in their usual spot, all things ready to sell and everything must go.

Locals call people like River a “turnabout”. He’s agreeable, quick to make a sale, even quicker to make deliveries. And when they are ready, River is the cash drop. Oasins have no use for money, and River has a list. His bag is weighted down with medicine, but only after a long conversation with a nervous pharmacist who’s wondering if anyone will believe that a handsome islander talked him down on the price—twice. He stops for batteries for Claudia’s radio, fuel for Esai’s machines. Sunshine flickers off gold in a window display, and River doesn’t have to be persuaded to go inside the luxury shop. He’s only inside for a moment, but it’s as if Esai can smell the indulgence on him.

“You were supposed to get medicine! Did you get the oil I asked for?” Esai says, as loudly as he always speaks, but only a few people turn to acknowledge the Oasin almost-yelling in his own language.

“Of course I did! I even got the nails you forgot to put on the list.” River said with a wave of his hand, pleased at his friend’s immediate deflation. But tired hands spill his bag onto the street, a recognizably expensive box landing squarely on top.

“I knew it. How much did this cost? It’s been a slow day, you know?” He bent to grab the box but River was quicker.

��Do you even know what today is?”

“Don’t play with me, River, I’m not in the mood—“

“Who’s birthday is it today? Hm? Is it Ines: our fair leader, light of our lives, your MOTHER?”

Esai blinked at him. “...Her birthday’s in the winter!”

“Eh? No way!”

“I’m going to—Mm!” He tugged at his hair to curb his temper.

“Just give it to Ines, she deserves to have nice things. Take it or I’ll use it. I have that one, it lasts forever.”

He snatched the box from River’s hand, calloused thumb rubbing over the gold-embossed label that read ‘Imported fragrance’, and something else in a language he couldn’t read. “As long as that’s all you managed to piss away, I won’t leave you here.”

“You’d do that to me, after all the years we’ve known each other? I have no money, you know.”

“Sell your earrings. Or any of the other gold on you. That’s what it’s for, in case you get lost.”

“I wouldn’t be lost, I’d be abandoned!”

“I look forward to my 8 days of peace.”

“Esai!”

“Shh, I’m imagining it now.”

“Can you two go away? You’re scaring the customers.” A woman barked at the two young men, shooing them off as she handed River his next pad of money.

Esai was quick to take it from him with a wide grin. “Come on, I saw somebody selling meat skewers down the street.”

“Really? Let’s go—”

‘I told you, I want my money back!’ An outburst broke the buzz of the market and both men turned to see their seller shrinking back from a customer. He seemed local enough, if unnaturally red in the heat, with a suit jacket that had ‘BW’ embroidered on both arms.

“If I said it made me sick, you have to give my money back.” He spat, his finger almost against her cheek. Esai moved the man’s arm away, standing so he forced them apart with his tall frame.

“Let’s calm down. And we can talk.” Despite their being the same age, Esai was much stronger than River, his bronze skin draped over muscles made for lifting crates of merchandise across miles of unsteady sand. He had a steel readiness beyond his years in his eyes, juxtaposed to his soft face, but typically managed to dissolve trouble on sight. Maybe this man wasn’t local after all.

“You all peddle raw food and blankets, I know there’s no quality control for whatever you manage to pack up and bring here. I bought some fruit earlier for my lunch, I’ve been throwing up all afternoon. It must have had worms in it, or was contaminated by the sea. I should have listened to the rumors: they say Oasin fruit makes you sick.”

Esai blinked with vague recollection at the sweaty man. “Hm? You mean the Ki-Ki fruit?”

River smirked as he watched Esai laugh, cold and loud. As easily as Esai’s presence bred peace, he had a sweet tooth for comeuppance. If asked, he would lie and say he got it from River’s bad influence, when the opposite was true. “If you ate the Ki-Ki fruit, you’d be dead before you made it to the trash to throw up. That’s why we don’t sell it.”

“What?” The sweaty man said while Esai grabbed a packet from the basket next to them.

“We don’t sell it because it will kill you. But the fish go crazy for it, and we dry down the seeds to make a dye powder. You still shouldn’t eat it, but for no more reason than to not swallow the dye powders you get from your tailor.” His informing was interrupted by nearby people who had stopped to listen, and snickered at the man’s expense.

“So it wasn’t our food that made you sick. I can give you something for your pain, some herbs we have. I won’t even charge you as an apology for the misunderstanding—”

It all happened so fast.

Esai stepped away to look through the herb clippings in another basket, just long enough for the man to lose his composure, humiliated both by his ignorance and prejudice on full display for a busy market where he had believed he was right. He reached into his breast pocket, moist hand grabbing a gun to point at the back of the man attempting to help him. But he didn’t have time to aim before a fist like iron connected with his face, punching him out of his shoes and to the other end of the street. Wall after wall followed his trajectory, lined by the faces of horrified onlookers. Silence followed the crash, and everyone for blocks stopped to stare at the Oasin and his friends. They saw River with arm outstretched, watched his adrenaline dissolve into shakes. His own voice broke the spell, almost too weak to be heard.

“He—he had a gun. Esai—”

“Everybody pack up,” came his voice. “Can’t you hear me? Get moving! The sun is getting low, we have to leave,” he said as the others hurried to comply.

“...Esai—”

“Don’t.” He shushed him. “Don’t speak. We have to get everyone home safe first. You go ahead, don’t wait for us.”

River nodded, eyes hot as Esai sent him off with a blessing of his thumb against his forehead. He tried not to run, counting his steps until he reached the bridge. But the familiarity of sand made his legs itch, and he was gone.

His godmother greeted him at home, nearly dropping dinner when he slammed into her for a brutal hug. “There you are! Are you alone? Where is everybody?”

She brushed his bangs from his wet eyes and set her pot on the table. “What’s wrong, baby? What happened? You’re pale.”

“… It’s fine. I-I don’t feel so well. Esai sent me home.” He gave Claudia a quivering smile.

“Get in bed, then. Dinner’s ready. Oh! Did you buy batteries?”

His smile faltered as he felt for the bag that should have been on his back. “I left them with the others.”

She clicked her teeth. “Ay, River. Go to bed, don’t worry about it. Somebody will bring them by when they all get back.”

King tide ended at sundown, and the trading party was late, walking the last half mile in water around their legs while the youngest rode on the shoulders of the tallest. They had received no resistance to their departure but waited almost too late for a relentless Esai that had gone door to door all afternoon to soothe angry business owners with missing walls.

Claudia answered the door for him in her nightgown. “Esai! Did you bring my batteries?”

“Where’s River?”

“Eh? He’s in bed. Why are you both acting so strange?” She went to fetch him but he was already in the doorway of his room, still dressed to leave.

“Let’s go.” Esai jerked his head to lead them outside. The island seemed especially busy after market days, the scattered houses receiving loved ones late with armfuls and weary legs. River delighted in the sounds of the evening, of children who’d never tasted bread so sweet or seen jewels so clear. It made any scolding from Esai worthwhile as he smuggled indulgence into every traders burden. But tonight the lamps went dark when the sun was still in the sky, and their community was quiet. They passed closed houses, walking almost to shore again before either of them spoke.

“He had a gun?”

“He would have killed you. Over something so stupid—”

“You shouldn’t have interfered.”

“What?!” River stopped suddenly, the disbelief leaving his lungs in a rush.

“You showed your Temple to the Alabastans, I would have rather you let him shoot me.”

“Shut up! What’s wrong with you? You would die all because of some—“

“Don’t finish that sentence. Your Temple is a gift from God, so few of us have awakened it’s power. The Alabastans would exploit you, or try to wipe us out and succeed this time. The king leaves us alone but if we step out of line that peace is over… We are less than a thousand. We cannot win, even with Temple, 10 of you cannot protect us from the Royal Army. I’ve always known leadership might cost my life. It is an honorable death to protect my people.”

“That’s stupid. How can you protect us if you’re dead?”

“Listen to my words, River, you endangered all of us when you lost control.”

He flinched away from open palms, but they only ruffled his hair like they weren’t the same age.

“I’m hard on you, I get that. Things are simple here but when we’re out there—no matter how angry you get, no matter what you witness, you have to stay calm. Don’t give them anything they can use against us. At the cost of our lives, we have to protect our home.”

River swiped at his own face, finding he could barely breathe. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just… try not to be yourself.” Esai offered a smile.

“You’re an asshole,” he said but didn’t manage to sting through his tears.

“Everyone says that. I’m thinking they can’t all be right.” ____ ___ __ _

But the great invasion Esai feared never came. The market was content to have the Oasins repair their businesses, and the city had no record of any complaint. They returned to their schedule, though River was told to stay behind for a couple weeks just in case. He had begged Ines and Ramon to reconsider but their leadership supported Esai’s opinion, believing some time away was best. They grounded him, wrapped him in the warmth of familiar food, and song, the breeze that carried the salt from the same sea every day. It made him itch, worsened when he stood on the beach to stare at the horizon that he longed to touch.

He missed the feeling of cobblestones under his feet, bartering with quick-witted merchants for spices and gold alike. He agreed the Alabastans couldn’t be trusted but their country breathed to him, so alive in the way a pirate wonders how high the mountain goes, or what lurks beneath the surface of a glass sea. He spoke into the sky, wishing on a squall that carried nothing but pain. But how does anyone who stands on the shore know what lurks in the sea?

No one could have predicted who would come to collect on River’s forgotten transgression because no one was supposed to know their name.

Across Alabasta, Crocodile was surprised to hear from the agent on his snail phone. “You were three days late to turn into your report. We declared you dead.”

‘I’ve been hospitalized, I—three DAYS?”

“I’m not hearing an explanation.”

‘I was in Alabasta to meet our contact and this man attacked me. His fist felt like hot iron, it threw me down the street and he was yelling “Down with Baroque Works”! He’s a menace out to get us and he knows the identity of—’

“Say that again.”

‘He’s declared himself an enemy of our organization—‘

“That’s not what I asked. ‘His fist felt like iron’.”

“Yes, Mr. 0. He threw me… must have been a quarter mile away. I would like to take care of this personally—‘

“Clearly, that’s not possible. Who was it? Or did your mild coma wipe your memory of that as well as your manners?”

“My-my apologies, Mr. 0. It was an Oasin, they’re a flea of a territory island. It was a man, young man with violet eyes and—‘

“That will be all. I’m not reinstating you, and wish you luck with your future endeavors.” He clicked the snail off before the former agent could protest. Twisting the same dial summoned Miss All Sunday’s voice.

‘Yes, Sir?’

“I’m sending you the number and location of an agent that is leaving our company.”

‘Oh?’

“And dispatch Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday to Alabasta. I’ll send their brief momentarily.”

‘Yes, Sir.’ ____ ___ __ _

“How long do we have, Miss Wednesday?” Mr. 9 asked as he toed the sand leading away from shore, face pulled down in a grimace. The rational fear of drowning and all.

“The tide comes back in at sundown but we’ll be gone long before then, Mr. 9.”

“I don’t understand why he wasn’t at the market, Miss Wednesday, didn’t the brief say we’d find him there?”

“It said maybe. Or do you want to explain to Mr. 0 that we couldn’t find him, Mr. 9?”

“You’re a cruel woman.” He said as he began to walk.

Outside his home, River was harvesting vegetables from their raised garden beds, collecting them in his apron and minding the baby strapped to his back.

Claudia came up to his side to check his progress and offer him the basket to empty his burden. “How’s your little helper doing?”

“No help at all—”

“I was talking to the baby.” She stared and he struggled to reply over his laugh.

“He’s slept the entire day. And I think he’s eating my hair,” he said as Claudia reached up to pull down the hood, revealing a tiny Bananawani the size of a small child. His banana was just a young nub on his forehead, and the skin around his mouth and feet were sickly pale, almost white.

He chirped, reaching out to nip at her finger. “Those antibiotics haven’t done anything for his color. But he seems to have more energy. At least he’s hungry.”

“Why am I still holding him then, if he’s hungry?” River said and let Claudia pull the baby into her arms to offer him some coconut from her apron, the preferred, moisture-rich and fibrous treat for growing Wani.

She let him eat, careful to not touch sharp teeth that could easily amputate if he had more strength. “Eat up, little one. You have to be big enough to go back into the sea when the females return for your siblings. Why did you hatch early anyway? When you’re so sick.”

“If I hadn’t been swimming and seen him all alone, he would have been eaten.” River said.

“He still might get eaten if the females reject him… I won’t let that happen. I’ll just be your mother then.” She blew him a kiss, and the reptile squeaked for more food.

“For someone who never wanted children, you keep finding things to raise.”

“If I hadn’t taken you, no one would have. You were such a fussy little boy. Still are.”

“Little?” He grinned, though the tall woman looked into his eyes.

“This is exactly what I mean. You get your rudeness from your father, and your weakness to the sun. My sister was like me, we never burned. You have your father’s intolerance to drink—”

River’s laugh cut her off, and she linked their arm’s together to rest on his shoulder. “The man’s dead, Claudia, let him rest in peace.”

Their bittersweet banter, the ability to smile when remembering his parents would be, if River was asked, the greatest triumph they made as mother and son. Tied together by a fated stormy night, suddenly alone and without their favorite people in the world, they survive by holding hands. If asked, River will say his parents were stuck on the bridge because he made them late, distracted by jewels at the market. Claudia will say they were helpless to the weather. Neither of them remember too much about that night, but they honor their memory by going on together.

“Who are they?” Claudia said suddenly, breaking him from his thoughts.

At the edge of the village, River could see two strangers on the shore, a man and a woman in gaudy clothes. The man, irritated with the woman, it seemed, sported a lopsided crown on his feathering of ginger hair.

“…get inside. Don’t come out until someone comes to get you.”

Back on the mainland, an older man came to Esai’s side at the market, both recognizable to the other but struggled to recall names.

“Excuse me, but two people just crossed onto the land bridge. They didn’t look like natives.”

“What?!”

“I didn’t approach them, I mean I didn’t know if you were expecting somebody. But I’ve never seen anyone besides you all step foot onto that bridge.”

Esai didn’t bother to thank them before he was off in a sprint, grabbing a friend and yelling in their own language.

“…well, now I wish I’d said something.”

The Baroque Works agents found themselves barred from entering the village, stopped on the shore by what looked like a wall of the strongest among them.

“This is quite the welcome. They must not get too many visitors, don’t you think, Mr. 9?”

He shooed away an insect, tongue bared at the humidity. “Definitely not. Anyway, let’s not drag this out. We’re with the…” He struggled to recall the wording on their brief sheet.

“The Royal Coalition of Suspicious Persons, Peoples, and their Pets—”

“That’s right, the… The Crown. We’re here to apprehend River Faustina for crimes against the king,” he declared. When no one made any move to comply, content to stare at the two eccentric strangers, he jabbed a finger at the paper that flapped in his hand.

“We have a summons from King Cobra himself to arrest the man on this paper and any of you who will not cooperate will be apprehended as co-conspirators!”

Ines stepped forward, careful of her cane in the sand. “May I see that summons?”

“Impossible! You couldn’t read it anyway.”

She snatched the paper quick enough to make him yelp and flinch when she slapped it to smooth it’s wrinkles. “I speak three languages.”

After long, silent moments of watching her scan the page, she finally crumpled it up and pitched it into the sea.

“MA’AM—”

“Don’t yell at me, red, my ears work just fine. I’m not doubting the validity of your request. I just don’t care. Ka-HA!” She punctuated her laugh with a bonk to his head with her cane, and a hasty retreat on suddenly virile feet.

Ramon, the largest and second village leader, intercepted the yelling strangers easily while Ines made her escape from responsibility.

She reentered the village to find River waiting for her. “Mama Ines. You can’t just ignore them and hope they go away.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Whatever credentials they have, however mad they are about what you did… I’ll never hand you over to them. Okay?”

“… Yes, mama.”

“Good boy. Besides, what kind of king sends two skinny idiots to arrest one of my people? Ka-HA. Fucking moron.”

“Mama!”

“Sorry sorry. I forget Claudia raised you to be polite.”

Esai came up on the island as Ramon was restraining Mr. 9 with one hand, the latter kneeling on the ground as he yelled to be let go. Miss Wednesday wisely chose to give them space.

“What’s going on here? Ramon?”

“They’re from some royal organization, here to arrest River.”

“You can’t hurt them, it’ll make things worse.”

Ramon gave his hostage a hard shove, sending him face first into the sand with a muffled yell. “They were very rude. Ines says to leave them, and I second that.”

“You can’t refuse or we’ll take Mr. Faustina by force—” Miss Wednesday backed up when Ramon towered over her, his shadow suddenly blacking out the sun.

He leaned down so his threat would be their secret. “You have until sundown to decide what you will do, or you will be forced to survive on this beach for 8 days until the bridge reappears. Perhaps you’ll try to swim? The Bananawani have nests just offshore, they’ll be coming back for their young any day now.”

Both agents watched as Ramon and the others retreated down the path to leave them with only the oscillating sound of the ocean that chipped away at their time. “The sun is getting lower. We have to move now, Miss Wednesday.”

She watched the gap in the trees as if waiting for them to come back and make good on their threat. “Mr. 0 instructed us with nonviolence.”

“I’m more afraid of what he’ll do if we don’t bring Mr. Faustina back at all. Or get stuck here.”

Esai ran through the village from home to home to ask about River, but found no evidence of his whereabouts until he personally spotted him on the path to the beach.

‘Esai!’ He heard behind him.

“Not now, Claudia!”

“Damn it, Esai, talk to me! What’s going on with River!”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out!” He sprinted after the other man but skidded to a stop behind the treeline when he saw him already talking with the strangers.

“You’re River Faustina? Must be, they said you had violet eyes.” Mr. 9 said as he failed to crack his neck. “That gorilla did a number on me.”

“Have you called for help?” River asked.

“Of course we have,” the woman lied. “But this will be much easier if you leave peacefully. We don’t want anyone else to be hurt.”

His mind raced with the possibility of what his resistance would bring, sunset casting the island in orange. How many reinforcements did these people have? Do they have the technology to cross the reef outside of King Tide? We can’t hold back an army if who I hurt was someone important. Did he die? Is that why I’m being arrested? There’s just not enough time.

“I’ll go with you. You and your people are to never step foot on this island again. I am the only one who has committed a crime.”

The strangers, seemingly satisfied with his answer, made to leave as Esai ran from his hiding place. “River—”

“Don’t, Esai.”

“Ines and Ramon told us to stay put, to leave those two alone.”

“That won’t solve anything.” He turned to smile at his oldest friend, eyes wet with pooled tears. “I have to protect my home.”

‘Don’t keep us waiting, Mr. Faustina!’

“We can fix this, River. Don’t just leave, what about Claudia, what about—”

River let a tear fall before hurrying to swipe it away. The sun was almost gone, sky covered by indigo, and the water was shrinking the bridge even smaller. Would he be allowed to write a letter before they passed their judgment? Surely they have that much mercy. “Hug Claudia for me.”

I’ll tell her I’m sorry. I was stubborn, selfish to wait until there was no time left for goodbyes. I hope they have enough paper, that the birds are strong enough to carry my testament to her.

Esai watched him go until they were out of sight, swallowed by the curve of the ocean but awash in his mind as he caught the last of River’s scent on the wind.

I wanted it to last forever. ____ ___ __ _

As fast as the trio ran, they were exhausted, soggy, and half drowned by the time they trudged from the rising sea at shore. Miss Wednesday upturned her shoes, letting out buckets of water and a few small fish as she tried to decipher what street they faced.“My boots are ruined, Mr. 9. Where’s the drop-off point anyway?”

“Thank you, Miss Wednesday. Mr. 9. But I’ll be taking Mr. Faustina from here.”

The pair seemed to pale at the woman that waited at the road, and River desperately wished he understood just what kind of danger she posed. He’d never felt such cold on a summers night, pinned helpless with no idea how to fight, where to run, unable to even recognize his predator.

“Mi-Miss All Sunday. Of course.” Mr. 9 managed to squeak out.

“Come with me, Mr. Faustina. You two: your next assignment is already on it’s way.”

River followed the presumed ‘Miss All Sunday’ without complaint through the streets, nose blind to the vendors he normally marveled, the lights dimmer than he remembered. He could only see the white suede coat billowing behind his handler, the ink-black of her hair. Should he be taken to the desert to be murdered quietly, he wondered if she would deliver his message. Her blue eyes didn’t look as though they even saw him.

“You brought no belongings. Were you denied that privilege or was it the time?”

“It was… It all happened so fast.”

His handler, no, Miss All Sunday stopped in front of a store. “Let’s purchase some provisions. Our destination is a couple days away, even as fast as we travel.”

“Where are we going? By boat?”

She gave him the same cold smile she had given to the gaudy pair who dropped him off; he had already forgotten their names. “Get a change of clothes. Have you eaten supper?” ____ ___ __ _

Esai held his lip where Claudia had struck him, tasting copper.

“You gave him to them?!” She screeched, eyes wild as she made to hit him again.

“He left on his own!” He yelled back and her hand stopped in the air.

“He wouldn’t do that, he trusts us to help him. He did NOTHING wrong! Why did they even come?!” Her voice cracked and anger made way for tears in rivulets down her face.

Ramon appeared to place his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Claudia. We’re going to get him back.” He declared to the hollers of the crowd.

‘Let’s go!’

‘They can’t do this to us!”

‘We will not be bullied!’ Every shout vibrated his blood, Esai scrambled to salvage his thoughts.

We are less than a thousand. It’s been 400 years since our island challenged the king, and we barely emerged from that fight with half of us left. Who knows how things have changed? Nothing has changed here, even with our gifts we cannot stop an army. At all costs, we must survive. We must protect each other.

“They made a deal!” His voice silenced the crowd, and the dozens of stares threatened to shrink him into the ground.

“Do not pursue him. He left of his own free will, they agreed he could negotiate his punishment for labor. He will not be executed.”

“They’re going to enslave him?!”

“NO! No, they spoke of an exchange. He would use his strength to work for the King and be compensated accordingly. It—It sounded like a lot of money.”

“You’re a liar, Esai, I will—”

“Think, Claudia. I know you’re hurting but doesn’t that sound like him? River’s always chased gold, you all watch him spend our money every single market day. He’s as old as I am but he’s never left the island… We were never going to be enough for him.”

The crowd began to slowly disperse, it didn’t matter to Esai why they relented. Whether in acceptance or disgust, he just needed them to break. But Ines refused to look away from her son, and he felt his face grow hot under her stare even as he kept his feet planted. “Let him go. River of all people will find a way to get on.”

Esai stayed until the sun was long gone, left to swallow against his tears when Ines was the only one left.

“Did he truly leave on his own?” She said, only barely louder than the bugs.

“Yes. I—He stopped me.” The old woman reached for him so he could crumble into her arms. She stood there, quiet and still, until his sobs had soaked through her cloak.

He felt her place a kiss to his head as he spoke. “I don’t want to lead us.”

She let her own tears fall onto his shoulder. He couldn’t recall the last time she cried.

“It has to be you.”

[awigglycultist]

I'm lying in bed and cuddling my Wiggly and it's time to finally rewatch Honey Queen now that's its on youtube!

God I love this theme song

Jae's and Bryce's voices!!!! They're so good!

"you fill my heeaarttt wiiithhhhh joy."

Dan's "winning smile" is mentioned in both Witch in the Web and here, that may or may not be important

"no one wants to go to your stupid cherry festival."

The four blonde boys!! Ugh I love river and I hope everyone else loves him just as much

We know River is 6 but I wonder how old the other boys are

"how big are you looking to go? Reduction? Ah that's a shame"

GOD Roman is SUCH a bitch. Smiling and doing that little song after Linda says she doesn't like that.

God I remember seeing that Jon was Roman and just being such suprise and awe like omg I immediately knew this would be such a fun character and Jon would be great

"your my honey queen :)"

"something your good at?" "I'm a mother." ahh parallels to "all you gotta do is just do what you do best" "shop" "be a mother"

Hnnngg Zoey

Linda just saying she won't allow Zoey to compete dndjehdh

"now I know there's a judge I can seduce that you can't"

"awwww you gonna cry boomer?"

"I got stick for you right here ;)"

"SHE CALLED ME A BOOMER GERALD!"

God I love them. Gerald is just. So head over heels in love with Linda. And loves her being evil and cheating. They're so great

WOOO THE SEA CAPTAIN

I love Angela dndjdjd

Poor Liz :( she moved ten years ago!!

ONCE A CHEMIST ALWAYS A CHEMIST

God wtf is up with Hatchetfield's hatred for Clivesdale. Like it is no longer a fun town rivalry they are kicking ppl out bc they're from Clivesdale. What the fuck is up.

Linda doing the job transfer of one of the constants and then saying "I'd say go to hell but your already moving there" I've said in the past I'd like to imagine that she's referring to Hell, Michigan. But I just realized Linda says "she's going to love Dubuque" so no Amber is definitely not moving to Hell. Come on Langs there was prime moment for a reference to Michigan there!

Ugh Zoey's such a bitch for outing Zach jeez

Always I want more of Zach and I want to see Josh asap they deserve better and I love them

Also if we ever see Josh he should played Joey, you know why

SAM SWEETLY

They very much did NOT get out Hatchetfield actually Zoey

Emma 🤝 Zoey

Baristas that hate hatchetfield and want to get out of it more than anything but end up dying in it

MALONE! Fucking werido

"you dirty girl"

Once again I need to see Malone and Gary solving crime together also again I believe Gary wasn't in this episode

"Mommy, why did you pay that stinky man?"

"damn straight!"

PROFESSOR HENRY HIDGENS!!!! AHHH MY BELOVED!!! AND NICK DOES A GREAT JOB!

If I'm correct Ted and Zoey are the only ones to have called Hidgens "Hidge"

I forgot that Mimaw was the first woman to swim the Nantucket Chanel

"bye bitch."

Did Sam kinda kill Mimaw bc he very purposefully switched the prescriptions and did it wanting her to die? Yeah. Should the nurses have paid more attention and were definitely being neglectful not checking the doses? Also yeah, chestnut estates needs to hire better ppl

It's okay Mimaw deserved to die she's homophobic

"whaaat. Thee. Fuuckkk?"

Oh god I forgot how terrible Linda was to the homless guy, "your going to work for a change" ughh ew

Also I still want to cry every time I see homeless man thanks again Time Bastard

Love that he's in a suit but still wearing a beanie

WOOO LATTE HOTTE IS SO GOOOD

"I'm the latte hotte you asked about" very much feels like it's directed at the audience. Like us having always been trying to figure out who that latte hotte is, asking the Langs who it is. And now Zoey says it's her

Paul! Also wow rewatching it after seeing the post about Paul being out of character yeah that "sure" does feel odd especially since its so casual and not like confused and anxious

"I don't know who the 'Emma' bitch is. Get it right"

"oh yeah! Latte Hotte! Very nice" ahh the Ted is coming through

"I can't stop dumping ass" still get me dkdjdbdbdb

AHHH I LOVE GERALD FUCK YEAH STAND UP FOR YOUR WIFE

ZOEY'S SCREAM AFTER LINDA WALKS AWAYS RJRBFUVFHDHDDNDNDJDNXJDND "aaaaaaaa"

So we know there's a Hatchetfield high ofc and a Hatchetfield elementary, there's probably a Hatchetfield middle school too. We know about Sycamore high ofc so I'm sure there's an sycamore elementary and middle too right. I wonder if there's more elementary schools too.. Where I live all the towns have like 5 elementary schools and then 1 middle and 1 high. So I wouldn't be suprised if there's more elementary schools in hatchetfield.

Obnoxious/Cineplex Teen my beloved!!!

"WE THINK YOU SOUND SEXY!"

Oh I'm also kinda surprised Charlotte wasn't even mentioned in this episode

"Yes. Yes. Fuck em. Fuck em straight to hell. Assholes." "Just crown her! Crown her now!" very easy to please

"please, don't make me cheat again, I already feel dirty" god mood. I've cheated on a test once ever in my life and I felt so terrible and dirty after it.

"woo go Lin! :)" "yay mom! :D"

Yeah I'm not in AP Govt but those of you saying that CT is AP Govt bc of that question are definitely right. Fucking nerd

"helpmethroughthisandI'llfundyourfuckingmusical" "deal. All right!"

Hidgens said he wants the rich to pay their fair share of taxes while being rich and wanting to be even richer for working boyz, iconic.

God. The build to her answer. "the perfect answer. The only answer" and then "I hate homless people" it's so good

Oooh I wanna say something about Hailey so bad but I don't wanna put any spoilers for the other eps in this.

Also this scene hits harder bc recently one of friends who's in choir lost her voice the day of a performance that she had a solo in and god she was absolutely destroyed (luckily she got her voice back in time)

I feel like Hidgens shouldn't be allowed to boo one of the constants.

Ooooh Henry's dramatic turn "I betrayed you? Zoey. 'working Girls'? I don't think so." CHILLS

Sam's fucking sunglasses (if you know the post you know the post. Ash is a genius)

QUEEN BEE AHHHH

PRETTY LADY HNGGG I AM IN LOVE

Corey's directing for Queen Bee!!!!!!! It's so good!!

Reminder that 4 yr is not okay to let your kid to the bathroom by themselves, ass seen with Gerald saying he needed to take River to the bathroom in Black Friday, but 6 is totally okay to let them go by themselves as seen in this.

"hey don't be scared. I'm a cop" nddhdb

"which kid?" ugh jeez still gets me djfjd

"my boyfriend? He's a cop. He can make your son... Disappear, and the rest of the force will just look the other way." god Starkid really said fuck cops so much this episode I love it (and they're fucking right with this line too)

"River? You piss all over yourself again?"

"I'll kick his ass, you kick hers. Love you :)"

A big, beefy guy™

Oh wow I forgot about "and it's not just gonna be you. I'm gonna kill River, then your other brats, then I'm gonna out a bullet in your wife's skull!" like damn that's fucked up (appropriately for hatchetfield ofc)

God Sam is so dumb sjdbrndbdb "man, am I just shitty cop?" yeah you are dude

Okay the "sweetest women in hatchetfield" thing has been talked about plenty that's obviously but we should talk about "the constant who best embodies the spirt of this town" more. The people who best embody Hatchetfield are ruthless. The "hungriest". They will do anything to get what they want. They will kill without hesitation to become honey queen. That's who best embodies Hatchetfield.

Hnnngg Linda's speech over the phone to Gerald :( and he'll never get to hear it :(

The Starkid cult the church of the Starry Children

God Roman is insane and I love him and Jon's great

"Gerald can't help you now. He's dead :)"

"Nibbly will gift us wealth and power" holy shit I forgot that! Roman is only rich thanks to Nibbly!!! Also this seems to mean that the others in the church are rich too we know Shelia is and she's rich. So yeah the theories about other certain rich members being in the church too definitely makes sense (tho I don't think Hidge is bc I don't think he would've helped Linda to get money for working boyz knowing she'd be sacrificed)

I love Nick smiling at the end of eps he looks so proud and happy but also the kind of smirk like "ohh your hurt? Did this episode make you feel things huh? Fuck yeah we fucking got you" and I love it

This song really is batshit

Omg remember when the album for Honey dropped and we were predicting that Curt would play Nibbly bc of him singing in the Nibbly Ditty? Nsdjdndnd

Omg I love Curt and James in this the faces they're doing, Curt standing there and being creepy, James absolutely dancing and being creepy jdkddb I love it

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Prompt List #5

Other Prompt Lists

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

Kissing on sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft tender.

“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me...it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.”

“You were supposed to be my friend. That’s all...that’s all I asked of you. To be my friend. To care.”

“I look at him/her/them and I just..it’s like when the Grinch’s heart grows three sizes.”

“I don’t...i’ve never...been in a relationship and i’m going to make mistakes...I just need you to tell me. I need you to talk to me.”

“You really thought I was dead?”

“I want to believe, I do...I just...how can I believe in something that I can’t see?”

“You didn’t tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I going to do?”

“I feel sick…so anxious and sick and like my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest.”

“Can we just make a decision? Please?”

“You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”

“I just want you to be safe. That’s all i’ve ever wanted for you!” 

“I want you to be happy...even if its not with me.”

“I want to feel like this forever.”

“You give me a reason to be better, to do better.”

“God, you are so fucking cute.”

“I love you, but I need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and I have to pass this test tomorrow.”

“I...I can’t do this without you.”

“Don’t forget me?” 

“You weren’t there...why weren’t you there?”

“I needed you! I needed you!”

“Now it’s over...I don’t really know what to do.”

“Do you ever think?”

“I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!” 

“How can you drink that stuff?”

“Oh no...he’s/she’s/they’re cute.”

“I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!”

“Sometimes you love someone and you don’t want them to leave...because if they’re beside you, you can see that they’re safe and you can keep them safe. But, if they go somewhere without you...you might lose them”

“No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!”

“I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are so important to me, you are such a big part of my life, that I just...I can’t imagine you not here.”

“I just want you to be happy...”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Stop apologising for other people! You’re not the shitty one!” 

“I want someone I can melt around. I want someone who melts around me too...I don’t want this standoffish, unromantic love that you’re offering. I want more than that.”

“I want to write you poetry, to write songs about you and draw your portrait! I want to make things for you! It frustrates the hell out of me hat I can’t draw and I can’t sing or write or play instruments or paint...You inspire me so fucking much...”

“You don’t own her/him/them. You don’t get to choose who they choose. I don’t get to choose who they choose. No one, but them, gets to make that decision.”

“Stop being a fucking dick.”

“That’s another way of saying you’re an arsehole.” 

“Can anyone else hear those Jumanji like drums? Or is it just me?”

“God, I love your face.”

Twirling a strand of their hair

Foreheads pressed together, breath intertwining, slow, content affection

“Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so...”

“I’m only important when you need something from me.”

“I am fed up of half measures. I deserve better”

“Don’t look at me! I’m a mess!”

“I love it when you’re a mess!”

“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting”

“I don’t think you’re annoying...I know...I don’t...I really like listening to and hearing what you have to say even if its a lot sometimes..”

“I just want to be swept off my feet...is that so bad? I’m fed up of being alone.”

One reaching for the others hand to comfort them, to provide support. A thumb brushing lightly against skin. 

Reciting poetry at the other in a dramatic and very public fashion

Those period shirts with the puffy sleeves and the deep v and one staring at the other like... oh no he/she’s hot. 

Heart eyes when the other talks, sings, dances, argues, does literally anything especially things which others make fun of them for or find annoying

“Oh, my ankle! I think it must be broken!” *wink* *wink*

“I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re so amazing.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I haven’t slept since they/him/her left/died”

“You are an uncultured swine! There I said it!”

“I know I should be happy...I did well...I always do well...so why can’t I believe in myself?”

“Please do your homework, for me? Just one time...”

“I said one time, y’know...you didn’t have to actually start studying. Not that I’m not proud or anything.”

“Go big or go home”

“I’m already home.”

“I lost my wellie boot in the river...”

“I wish I knew who they were...”

“It was that bad here?”

“I look at you and I...I feel so sad because I love you but I also have been hurt so many times that I don’t think I can forgive and forget.”

Brushing hair from their face

Leaning into the others hand, turning their head and pressing a kiss to the palm

“I didn’t take you for the settling down type.”

Speaks in a terrible Shakespearean/Elizabethan style to woo/make the other laugh

“Should I go first or...do you want to go?”

“If you want to leave, we can leave.”

“I don’t want to ruin your party.”

“You could never ruin anything.”

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.”

“Please don’t make me choose.”

“I can finally understand why you call them your arch-nemesis...What. A. Dick.”

“Poetry isn’t supposed to be good, it’s supposed to make you feel things!”

“If you don’t get that stick out of your arse, i’ll do it myself and beat you with it.”

“Could you come get me?”

“Stop moving! I’m going to have to start counting all over again!”

“I just thought that since you weren’t feeling too good, maybe this would help.”

The one stumbling to the other’s front door after getting hurt/beaten up etc.

“Oh my heart it breaks! It shall never be whole again!” “She/He/They break up with you every other month. Shouldn’t it be used to the disappointment by now?”

“I thought you said no more dangerous stunts?”

“I’m not kissing you in the rain! We’ll catch our death!”

“Where’s your adventurous spirit?!”

“A walk in the woods might do you some good. Clear your head.”

“You have wronged me so bitterly...”

“Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“Please get me away from him. He hasn’t left me alone all night and I am this close to committing a murder.”

“I apologise sincerely if my handsome/beautiful face has kept you awake all night.”

Massages but the sort that are actually practical and helpful. Like babe, you’re so uncomfortable let me help because you’re clearly in pain

“Would it help if I stayed?”

“So I had this really vivid dream...”

[rextasywrites]

Look At Me -Donna Beneviento x reader

Years had passed since then, and whenever you asked Mother Miranda about Donna, she just told you that Donna didn’t want anyone close to her, and that you should stop putting your nose into things that weren’t your business. But she was your best friend after all!

The reader misses their best friend Donna so much...how will their reunion go?

If there is more demand for Donna x reader content, I’d be more than happy to write more for her! I do have a soft spot for her!

Warnings: bit spoilerish, angst, crying

“Look at me.”, you cupped Donna’s cheeks through the veil she was wearing, the lace feeling rough under your fingers. It’s been years since you last saw her face, since she last let anyone come close to her. What had happened to her?

You two grew up together. You clearly remembered how much she always loved the dolls her parents made. They were a fairly well known puppet maker family after all. From a young age, she knew she’d step into her parents' footprints, them teaching her things as soon as she could hold a hammer and sandpaper. Her only friend was you as you didn’t taunt her about the scar in her face she had gotten very young. You loved watching her make new dolls and gave her suggestions what she could do differently. The first doll she ever made was gifted to you, and you have kept it on your nightstand ever since.

But then, her parents fell ill. Nobody knew what was happening to them, and they died only several minutes apart, leaving Donna as an orphan. For the first few weeks, their gardener looked after her, cooking her meals and holding her when she cried over her parent’s deaths. How they held hands as they drifted into their forever sleep, how she had to watch her parents go from healthy and strong to barely able to hold down a simple soup.

That’s when Mother Miranda came into the game. She felt pity for the girl and took her under her wing. The house of the Beneviento family was far outside of the village and only a dangerous walk across a rope bridge connected her to the village. Mother Miranda made sure the girl got enough food and some time in, she adopted her. Now, Donna spent most of the time with Mother Miranda, and after some time, the gardener disappeared. Nobody knew what happened to him, Mother Miranda suggested that he might have drunkenly fell off the rope bridge.

Mother Miranda taught Donna everything she needed to know when it came to school things, but she also gave her the Cadou. The day before she got the Cadou was the last time you ever saw her.

Years had passed since then, and whenever you asked Mother Miranda about Donna, she just told you that Donna didn’t want anyone close to her, and that you should stop putting your nose into things that weren’t your business. But she was your best friend after all!

That’s when you decided to take matters in your own hands. The rope bridge was ways more terrifying than back in the day when you were kids, laughing and throwing stones into the river beneath it. With wobbly legs you made your way towards the house, a good march away still. Only when the house was already visible you realized that the birds had stopped singing their songs.

The house looked just how you remembered it - the waterfall crashing down behind the cliff, muting every possible sound. You knocked on the door in a certain manner. Back in the day, to show it was you and that you wanted Donna to come play with you, you knocked two times quickly, a short break, one quick knock and one last long one.

Memories flooded your mind but before you could lose yourself in them, the door was opened. To your surprise, it was Angie opening the door. She had always been Donna’s favourite doll, the second doll she ever made. “Welcome here, (Y/N)!”, Angie crackled and opened the door more for you to step into the house.

“Where is Donna?”, you asked as you looked around. The interior hadn’t changed at all. Everything was looking like the day you had last entered the house so many years ago.

“Donna? Oh Donna is in her room! She isn’t doing well!”, Angie said and pointed you towards the staircase leading to Donna’s room. Well, you didn’t need that reminder, you still knew where it was. “Go to her! You know her so well!”

You nodded at Angie and patted her head, the doll jumping with happiness. She kinda liked it that you weren’t scared by her at all. Together you headed towards Donna’s room and you knocked on the door.

“Mother Miranda?”, Donna called out. Her voice was muffled, maybe she was hiding under a blanket or had her head under her pillow.

“No, it’s me, (Y/N)!”, you replied.

“(Y/N)?! You shouldn’t be here!”, Donna called out, her voice clearer than before. Angie looked at you and you looked at her. You two nodded at each other and you opened the door to Donna’s room. For sure she was in her bed, blanket up to her chin. Her face was hidden by the veil even now that she was alone. “Does Mother Miranda know you are here.”

“No, why should she?”, you asked and sat down on the bed next to Donna, who was still laying down. “I am here because of you and not because of her.”

Donna nodded, avoiding your gaze by looking at Angie, “May you please leave us alone for a bit, Angie?”, and the doll nodded, heading out of the door and closing it. “(Y/N), why are you here?”

“I missed you, Donna.”, you instantly confessed, didn’t want to beat around the bush. “I haven’t seen you in years, Mother Miranda keeps me from seeing you...and I just couldn’t stand it anymore!”, the word vomit out of your mouth didn’t stop, and Donna felt her heart opening up.

“Oh…”, she muttered. Had it really been years? At some point, she lost track of time passing.

“You are my best friend, Donna, and I missed you so much over those past years…”, you continued to talk, letting out all these feelings that had built up over time. “I just wanted to see my best friend again.”

To your surprise, you heard a soft sob coming from Donna, and by the way her body shook, it was clear that she was crying. Tears of years of built up loneliness, anger and sadness spilling over. “Oh Donna...look at me…”, you whispered not to scare her, but Donna moved her head away.

“No! Don’t look at me! I’m ugly!”, she cried out, grabbing the veil and pulling it tighter over her face. Her body was shaking even more and tears stained the veil.

“But Donna...I know your scar, and it doesn’t make you ugly.”, you added in confusion. When you last saw her, she wasn’t happy about the scar but she learnt to live with it. Why now…?

“No, no, you don’t understand.”, Donna shook her head even harder, making you fear that she’d give herself whiplash. She loosened her grip on the veil once it was covered in tears and snot.

“I do understand. Donna, I am your best friend, please, let me see. And let me help you.”

Those simple words, the simple encouragement from you, broke Donna’s heart even more. It had been years since she last heard your voice, and it only just now dawned to her how much she had missed you too. With shaking hands, she slowly lifted the veil, revealing her ‘ugly’ face.

The Cadou was visible on the right side of her face where her scar used to be. You didn’t flinch or showed any kind of disgust. It was Donna after all. And she was still your best friend, no matter what that thing on her face was.

“I am so ugly.”, Donna cried out and threw her arms around your body, her head in your lap as she wailed even harder, the self disgust so evident it hurt.

“You are not. Who the fuck is telling you this bullshit?”, you asked and shook your head. Yes, she looked different, but why did it even matter? What mattered was the friend you finally reconnected with after all this time.

“I am! Just look at me! What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see my best friend and a wonderful woman. A talented doll maker and mother of Angie. You are amazing Donna.”, you whispered, making Donna look up to you in confusion.

“You don’t think…?”

“No, I absolutely do not think so. With scar, without scar, or whatever that thing is...you are still Donna.”, you smiled.

And for a short second, you saw that Donna was smiling too. Oh, how you missed her pretty smile. Your heart grew ten times at her happy expression, and you dared to wipe a tear off her cheek with your thumb. “I am so glad you are back in my life.”, Donna muttered, the crying clearly exhausting for her. “Just...don’t let Mother Miranda know. She won’t be happy about this....”

“I don’t care about Mother Miranda. All I care about is you, Donna. How about we go into the kitchen and make some tea? Catch up with everything that happened in the past few years?”

“Sounds good. Come with me.”

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Bards Sister  Geralt XFemale!Reader Part 1

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Masterlist 

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadnt seen since she was 5. The journal is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. I know i am trash at summaries.

Trigger warnings: NONE a lot of Geralt and Jaskier in this first part. Your charicter doesn’t come in till closer to the end.

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,095 longest fanfic I’ve ever written!!

A/N: hello my loves!!! I got my Insperation back!! I’m hopping i will be regularly posting agin!!! I ove you all so much you consistent love and supoort has not gone unnoticed. The constant likes and reblogs truly means the world to me. I love every single one of you so much. Thank you for believing in my writing the way you do. All my love -Lilith ps. I have reviewed and edited but I will be doing a more in-depth review soon!

“Where are we going, Jaskier.” The Witcher’s brooding voice echoed threw the flowered valley. His horse trotted not far behind his companion. Jaskier looked back at him and just rolled his eyes.

“How many times have you led me on endless roads, towards the middle of nowhere speaking little to no words to me no matter how much I ask?” Geralt said nothing. Jaskier snorted looking back towards the road.

“Exactly. No shut up, your brooding is giving me a headache.” The bard was giving the witcher a taste of his own medicine. The idea that Jaskier was leading him to somewhere he had no idea of the location, made him uneasy. Did he trust his bard? Absolutely without a doubt. Would he ever admit it to him? No never.

Their travels continued till the sun was barely hanging in the sky. The air had grown crisp replacing the harsh burning of the full summer sun. Jaskier pulled his mare to the side of the road, climbing off her, tying her to a tree. Geralt followed, realizing they were stopping for the day.

“We still have a couple hours of daylight left.” Geralt said as he took Roach’s saddle and tack off.

“We don't need a couple hours, we are nearly there. Maybe an hour and half.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow at Jaskier.

“Then why did we stop?” Jaskier pulled his saddle bags off his horse, putting them beside a log as he gathered some sticks for the fire.

“Because I have to debrief you as to who we are going to see and you must bathe before we do so. The stream here will do the trick.”

“Gods Jaskier, will you just tell me where we are going? The secrecy is bullshit.” The broot of a man was losing his patience with his friend.

The duo had been on the trip for nearly two weeks. They left Tramieria and headed east. Much further east than Geralt could ever remember traveling. Yet the bard seemed to know exactly what turns to take and when. The closer they drew to their destination the more the witcher could hear his heart beat faster.

“Jaskier if this is some stupid plot for me to protect you from some man who’s wife you slept with again-“

“It's not Geralt-“ Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, his stress causing a minor headache. “Just go bathe then I’ll tell you everything.” Geralt studied his friend, his eyes searching his face, his ears tuning into his heart beat trying his best to figure out what he was getting himself into.

With a low grunt the witcher grabbed his last set of clean clothes and the bar of soap from the bard's hand before stomping off to the river.

“Clean EVERYTHING!” Jaskier yelled over his shoulder. Only getting an unfriendly finger in return.

Nearly an hour later, the sun was completely hidden behind the canyon, the glow of the fire Jaskier started illuminating their small camp. Jaskier’s fingers strummed mindlessly at his lute, his eyes fixed on the stars that were making their presence known more, humming to himself softly. He heard his friends footsteps as he approached, his hair was wet at his shoulders. A fresh white Cotton tunic hugged his muscular build, black trousers hugging his legs. He smiled nice for once. All thanks to the lavender and honey soap Jaskier had received as a gift.

“Now don't you look better.” Jaskier said with a chuckle. The witcher sat down across the fire from him, his golden eyes staring heavily at the bard.

“Spill your guts Jaskier.” Jaskier rubbed his hands over his face and nodded. His eyes looking anywhere but at his friend.

“I haven't been completely forward about my family life.” Jaskier’s eyes landed on the moon above them. It was nearly full, he was doing well with time. He knew they would reach their destination well before the next full moon.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s harsh voice broke the silence. With a loud sigh Jaskier finally looked his friend in the face.

“I’m royalty Geralt.” The Witcher’s expression did not change. He just looked at his friend. He could hear Jaskier's heart beat become uneven and unsteady. At first he thought it was a joke but the nervous energy radiating from his long time friend made him think better.

“My family, they are wonderful people. My mother, bless her, taught me everything I needed to know about writing and music. Convinced my father to let me train at Oxenfurt Academy. My father is a noble and loyal king. He served our people well. Still does to my knowledge. I haven't been back in nearly 20 years…” the bard trailed off, his eyes fixated on his hands, his fingers twildilling with a ring he had on. The ring was that of his family. Their crest engraved into the gold.

“I was never meant to be a noble. I lived for adventure, for more than just sitting on a throne and watching people come and go. I was never fit to be king. My parents knew that. They understood. Understanding people they are.” His voice trailed off again, hopping his friend would say something. Ask a question. Anything. He didn’t know where to go next.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?” Geralt finally asked.

“Because it never came up. My family never needed me. I never needed them. I love them all dearly of course. But we were never the closest people in the world. Well, my sister and I were.” That caught the Witcher’s attention. His eyes narrow slightly, he made sure to not let his expression scare the bard into not telling him more. He was genuinely curious about his family. But he couldn't lie and say he wasn't disappointed that in the 7 years they traveled together he never heard of them.

“You have a sister?” The bard's eyes lit up. His memory raced with images of his tun little sister chasing him around the courtyard screaming, yelling his name. Her giggles and laughs pulling at his heart strings.

“Yes. Her name is (Y/N). She is about to be 25. Big age for a princess. I havnt seen her since she was very little.” His heart started to break softly. His neglect to his baby sitter weighting heavily on him.

“I write her often, as much as I can. She was...well, a surprise to my parents to say the least. I was 15 when she was born. I left home at 20. I was only around for her toddler years. I never got to see her grow, blossom into a young woman. I missed so much.” Jaskier had to fight back the tears, his throat becoming tight and dry. His body filling with regret.

“I just kept pushing it back Geralt. I alwasy said I’d make it home. I alwasy had it in the back of my mind to go back and see her. But I never did.”

“Why now?” Geralt asked.

“She wrote me a few months back. It was nearly a book. It was filled with tales of her new travels around our country. She had been training heavily with an unmanned matester of combat. She traveled the countryside with the man. She referred to him as an uncle. In the letter she asked me if it was true that I’d been traveling with you. She said the songs and tales of Jaskier the Bard traveling with the White Wolf made it to her ears.” Jaskier stopped talking for a brief moment, rummaged around his rut sack and pulled out a notebook. He untied its string and a large pile of papers fell out into his hand. He unfolded the parchment and scanned the writing.

“I wrote her back that week. Only to receive this in return.” He began to read;

“Oh dear Jaskier!! I cannot believe its true. I thought he was only a legend. The white wolf. Please tell him he is a hero here. We love his stories. Many have written books of him. Children run round calling themselves the butcher of Blaviken here to save the damsel and distress. I love his stories, mainly because they involve you. Please come visit me this year. I miss you terribly. I want to hear of your travels with the wolf. Mother said he is more than welcome to stay if he wishes to travel with you. I do miss you Jaskier. More than I think you know. I do not mean to guilt you or make you feel bad as i know you are traveling the world to your heart's content and would never want you to feel as though I do not support you-“ Jaskier stopped reading for a brief moment. A small tear dripped onto the page he was reading. Geralt listened to every word he read. He couldn't help the small tug of his lips when he read about the children pretending to be him. It was a breath of fresh air for the witcher. He had constantly been told he was a monster. To hid your children from him. Yet here was an entire country that loved him, yet he had no idea. Jaskier cleared his throat and continued. “But i miss my brother. And maybe, just maybe. I could come with you. If you deem me fit. I have been working tirelessly with a friend of fathers. He trains me in not only swordsmanship, but Herbology, and monsters as well. I can name nearly every monster that has inhabited the Continent and how to slay it. He thinks I’m ready to leave the nest and I think mother and father are getting a bit tired of me as well. I cannot stand another somber, dull, dinner party with nobles who look at me like a piece of meat. So please. Visit me soon. Come and stay a few days. Catch up with your dear sister and maybe, if he isn't too busy and if it doesn’t inconvenience him, bring the Wolf with you. He’d be a welcomed hero. All my love dear brother. Xoxo Love always, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz

Jaskier folded the letter, placing it inside his notebook before safely storing it inside his sack again. He ran a hand over his face, his eyes slowly moving from his hands to his best friend. They sat in the silence for a while. Geralt’s brain replaying the words he had heard from his friend.

“You could have told me about her Jaskier. Why didn't you? You’ve been in contact with her all this time, planning to see her and your family again. Bringing me along for the ride, yet not a single word in 7 years. Do you not trust me with such a secret Jaskier?” Jaskier was taken aback by his friend's words.

He never knew his secrecy would have such an impact on his friend. When it came to Geralt he learned long ago, the little words, the better. The witcher can only handle so much before he loses interest and stops listening or walks away. He never in a million years would have thought he cared about his life that much. It warmed the bards heart to know his dear friend, the only brother he ever had, cared that deeply for him.

“It has nothing to do with not trusting you Geralt. Is has everything to do with the shame I hold for not seeing her sooner. For treating her like a dirty secret form the world. There is no logical reason for me to keep my family such a big secret. Yet I have. For 20 years.” Geralt’s hands rubbed together softly as he listened to his friend. He understood the secrecy. He was a box full of secrets that nobody could get into.

“Its okay Jaskier. I understand the secrecy. Is that where we are going tomorrow?” Jaskier nodded, a smile appearing on his face.

“Her birthday is the next full moon. I’m hoping my gift will be a good start in time lost.” Geralt looked at him curiously. He hadn't noticed any major item in Jaskier’s possession that could make a good gift for a young princess.

“You’re her gift Geralt. I wrote her back after that letter and told her I’d be back for her next birthday. But that you simply were to busy with your work. I told her that you greatly appreciated her support and that youd consider writing to her in the future. She has no idea your coming with me.” Geralt didnt know how he felt about being a gift. He never ever saw himself as a gift to anyone. More of a burden the a gift. He shook his head at Jaskier and tutted at him.

“Jaskier if your that broke you could’ve asked me for a few extra coins for a real gift.” The witcher attempted to joke with the bard. It made Jaskier smile more. Geralt could be funny, but his humor was incredibly dry, much like Jaskier’s father.

“Geralt! Did you just try and joke around with me??” Geralt rolled his eyes, laying down stretching his muscles as he looked up at the starts.

“Best get some sleep Jaskier, you’ve got a rather big family reunion tomorrow.”

The next morning Jaskier was up and awake before Geralt, a rare sight. He truly hadn't slept more than a couple hours that night. His nerves kept him awake. He feared his sister wouldn’t be as loving as he pictured, she had every right to be mad at him, hate him even. By the time Geralt was up, Jaskier had bathed, changed and had his horse completely ready to go.

Geralt had to do everything in his power to not laugh at his friend. He looked rather ridiculous. His normal bright attire was replaced with a royals outfit. A green and blue velvet tunic and some extremely uncomfortable looking black trousers. His hair was combed back and his face was freshly washed. He even cleaned under his fingernails. He looked rather ridiculous in Geralt’s opinion. He couldn't help the low chuckle that left his lips as he put his bed roll away.

“I don't understand why you're laughing. I have some clothes for you to put on as well.” Geralt’s expression changed instantly, from humorous to angry.

“No. Absolutely not. What I’m wearing is perfectly fine. I’d wear it to meet any king or queen.” A bag was chucked at him, he barely caught it before it smacked into his face.

“This isn't any normal king and queen Geralt. This is my family. And besides, you are no ordinary witcher in my kingdom, you’ll be treated as royalty there. You may as well look the part.” Geralt huffed and threw the bag of clothes back at his friends feet, glaring daggers at him. He hated dressing up with a burning passion. Everything was too tight, not easy to fight in. If anything happened he’d have to rip the seams on every piece of clothing to be able to maneuver his weapons properly. And fancy clothes dont have space for weapons. He didn't like that one bit. Jaskier looked at his friend. His eyes pleading with him.

“Please Geralt. Just for today and her birthday. I couldn't care less what you wear at any other point on this trip.” He had walked closer to Geralt now. About a meter away from him. He extended his hand, the bag in his hand. Geralt looked from the bag to his friend. His teeth and jaw clenched.

He let out a loud huff and grabbed the bag from the bard.

“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth and began taking off his clothing. Jaskier smiled before turning his attention to Roach, getting her stalled and tacked so when Geralt was dressed they could leave.

“If we move with a bit of a haste we could make it there before breakfast.” Jaskier said as he mounted his horse, looking at his friend. His hand slapped over his face. The witcher looked utterly ridiculous in his new attire. The bright red and orange vest a-top a cream tunic, his legs tight in some disgustingly ugly corduroy pants. The pants were obviously smaller than the seamstress he bought them off claimed them to be. The ends of the pants came nearly mid calf on Geralt’s legs. His pasty white ankles and feet shining in the early morning sun.

“Jesus Geralt. Those are worse than the ones I got for Pavetta’s party.” The bard could no longer hold in his laughter. Did Gerarlt look like a nobleman? Sure, but his size, white hair, and bright yellow eyes really didn't help the situation.

“Jaskier, I will kill you for this.” Geralt grumbled angered as he pulled his socks up his feet and over his calves. Luckily for him (and Jaskier) his boots went higher than his pants, making it harder to notice that the pants he was wearing were way too small.

“At least I’m not making you wear a big hat with a feather, those are truly hideous.” Geralt mounted Roach, more carefully then he normally does in fear his pants could bust at the seams.

“I had to wrap you up nice and pretty to present you to my sister.” Jaskier commented as he led his horse; Napoleon to the main road, Geralt and Roach in tow.

The two men rode in a comfortable silence for some time, but as they got closer and closer to Jaskier’s home, all Geralt could hear was his frantic heartbeat. Jaskier’s palms get sweaty and his throat dry, no matter how much water he drinks from his water skin.

“Jaskier. You need to calm down. Your fucking heart beat is driving me insane.” Geralt hissed. They could see the end of the valley they had been traveling in. Geralt looked out in the distance, his eyes saw the castle first. It was very far, but he could tell how beautiful it was from where they were.

“Maybe you just shouldn’t listen to it then.” Jaskier barked back.

“You know I have no control over it, idiot. Take a deep breath. I know you're scared, I understand. But from the sounds of it your sister desperately misses you, I don't think she would ask you to come see her if she was going to hate you.” Geralt didn't talk much at all, that everyone knew. He was a man of few words. But when he did speak it was wiser than most people ever expected. People tended to forget the age of the white haired man, as he stopped ageing physically in his late twenties.

Jaskier smiled softly at his friend's words, he listened to him and took a few deep breaths, calling himself down. Geralt was right. His sister seemed eager as ever to see him again.

The two men approached the entrance to the city. Geralt was more than shocked. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen a city so beautiful in his entire life. The streets were lined in beautiful stone, flowers, vines, greenery all around every corner. The banners that were hanging on the outside of the main gates caught Geralt’s eyes. The crests on them were brightly colored in greens and blues, a very large diamond in the center. Their horses rode into the entrance of the town. Jaskier’s heart was calm, steady, his face was bright and had a smile Geralt had never seen on him before. He was finally home.

“Welcome to Inritha (In-Rithe-A) the capital of Unthya (Un-The-A) Geralt. Welcome to my home.”

Their horses traveled down the stone brick road slowly, the city was buzzing already even with it being the early hours of the morning. Geralt was surprised to see everyone look so...happy, care free. Enjoying their lives. They looked as though nothing was a fret, no monster looming. Geralt was mesmerized by the city. The buildings were built out of what looked to him like limestone, a building material he so rarely saw in other parts of the Continent. The buildings were being taken over by vines and moss, flowers all over. He’d never seen so many butterflies in his life.

“Jaskier-'' his voice was barely a whisper, the bard turning to look at him as they rode side by side. Jaskier couldn't help but smile as his friend admired the beauty he himself had so easily forgotten over the years.

“I know, it's beautiful. I've forgotten myself.”

The two men continued riding their horses up the road closer and closer to the castle. The longer they road tho more attention they got from passer buys. Geralt could hear their whispers.

It couldn't be. Could it?

THE Geralt of Rivia? Here in Inritha?

Mummy look! It's the butcher!!

Has Prince Jaskier finally returned home?

For the first time in what seemed like his entire life, the hushed whispers Geralt heard as he rode through a city were not of hate and disgust. But of admiration and curiosity. The entire time Geralt and Jaskier rode through the city, he never once had the urge to grab either of his swords that were at his side.

The two men approached the gates of the castle, four armored guards stood outside. The put their hand up in motion for the men to stop. One who looked as tho to be the commander of sorts stepped forward poking between both men. Eyes lingering for a long while on the two.

“State your name and what business you have in Inritha at this early hour.” Jaskier dismounted his horse, waking a few feet forward.

“My name is Jaskier Alfred Pankratz son of Dastrill and Alvere Pankratz. This is my companion Geralt Of Rivia, we are here on behalf of my sister, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz’s 25th birthday.” Jaskier bowed his head lowly, keeping eye contact with the commander in front of him.

“Prince Jaskier?!?” The man clearly looked flustered and embarrassed for not recognizing the prince of his own kingdom. All four men quickly bowed their heads.

“Please accept my apology your highness, we welcome you home. As do we welcome your honored guest.” Jaskier smiled and told the men to not trouble themselves with an apology. Geralt continued to watch from atop Roach, still not use to being idolized instead of feared. Honored guest. Geralt thought to himself. He could get use to the new treatment. Jaskier remounted Napoleon the gates to the castle walls opening. The both road threw, all four men bowed their heads as the two walked threw. Not once did they threaten Geralt’s life. They were led by a guard to the stables where they left their horses.

Geralt could hear Jaskier heart beating again in his chest as they were led inside the castle. Geralt tried to concentrate on his friend, to be there for him but he couldn't help but let his eyes wander all over the castle's walls, it was a bright exterior. The walls polished, candles everywhere. Large windows allowing for natural lighting. Nothing dark or gloomy about the castle at all. He felt uplifted..cheary almost. As they neared the entrance to the grand hall where the King, Queen, Princess along with some others were. Geralt could hear the light conversation, and the clicking of silver on plates, they were eating breakfast. But he could still hear Jaskier’s heart beating in his chest. Geralt placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked, giving it a soft squeeze. The action made Jaskier more worried if the witcher was feeling alright, as it was abnormally out of character for the man. But he said nothing, appreciating the gesture.

They got to the door and just as the guard was about to push the doors open Jaskier grabbed his arm.

“Could we maybe skip the loud over dramatic announcements of my arrival? I have not seen my family in years.” The guard only nodded, bowed his head and walked back outside to his post. Jaskier looked over at his friend, as he put his hand on the door ready to push it open.

“Now or never.” Jaskier said as he opened the door. Both men walked into the large room, the talking stopped almost instantly. Geralt stood at the door, not wanting to impose on the important reunion of his friend and his family. He followed Jaskiers gaze to the table ahead of them in the front of the room. The room was lined with huge floor to ceiling windows, the light of the early morning sun shone brightly making the marble floors glisten.

“JASKIER!!!” The loud scream of a girl nearly made Geralt jump out of his skin, his hand reaching back for a sword that wasn't there in instinct.

It made Jaskier jump but the smile that covered his face was even bigger than the one he had seen as he walked through the city. Geralt followed Jaskier’s gaze to a young woman. The sight of her alone made Geralt want to pass out. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. Her hair was the same chestnut brown that Jaskier had, but it was long, hip length. She had it pulled back slightly out of her face, a few baby hairs framed her face. Oh her face. Geralt thought as though he was looking at a living breathing angel. He heard her chair scrape roughly on the ground before it loudly crashed on the floor. She raced around the long table from her mothers side and sprinted to her brother. She practically threw herself on him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, stumbling back a few steps. Everything was quite as the two embraced. Geralt's eyes went to the king and queen who were now standing. The queen looked just like (Y/N) but her hair was black, long stripes of grey peeking through her hair. The crown atop her head glistened in the light. Her right hand was tightly around her husband's arm, her other hand placed softly over her mouth as she looked at her children. Her husband looked much like Jaskier. His hair was the same color as both of their children, but much like his wife’s, much of it had turned grey. His eyes were the same cornflower blue that Jaskier had.

Minutes passed in silence before Jaskier put his hands on his sisters shoulders, pulling her away from him. He put one hand on her cheek as he examined her features. Her pale cheeks were damp with tears. But not sad tears. Tears of joy.

“My sister, how you’ve grown.” Geralt could hear the tears in the bard's voice. He couldn't see him but he could hear everything.

(Y/N) fingers gently brushed over her brother’s face as she smiled at him.

“My brother, how you haven't aged a day. You look just as I remember you. Maybe a few more wrinkles.” She teased. He laughed softly. Wiping his eyes with his hand before pulling her into another bone crushing embrace. She was much shorter than Jaskier, barely shoulder level with him. Geralt was shocked to remember she would be turning 25 in two days. She was still young in the face, beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to see her more up close.

While the siblings spoke their parents moved from the spots at the table, standing behind (Y/N). Alvere was the first to pull him into a tight embrace after her daughter let go. Her fingers gently combed through his hair as she inhaled his scent deeply.

“My dear son how I've missed you.” She whispers slowly into his ear. Geralt was starting to feel bad for eavesdropping. Not that he could help it. He was still standing at the entrance to the grand hall yet he could hear everything.

Jaskiers father hugged him next, it was not nearly as long as the outer two but both men were okay with it. Understanding that their relationship had never been one for long father son hugs.

“It is good to see you again my boy.” His hand clasped down on his son's shoulder.

The four of them stood close together, smiling more than Geralt ever thought possible. It almost made his heart turn. Deep, deep, deep, down the witcher longed for a family that would look at him the way they looked at Jaskier. He often cured the universe for not giving him an option when it came to what he had become. He clung to the few memories he had of his mother. But as years passed they became harder and harder to remember, more painful. But he had. Made a new sort of family over the years. From Jaskier, to his brothers at Kaer Morhen.

“(Y/N), mum, dad, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” Jaskier turned his head towards the door to the hall. Geralt stood tall, shoulders pressed back, his hair framed his face gracefully. Even in the entirely ugly attire he was in, he made himself as presentable and as proper as possible. (Y/N)’s eyes grew bigger when her eyes met his. He once again was taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes were a powerful emerald green matching similarly to the color of her brother's tunic, but brighter. Her mouth fell slightly agape when she realized who it was. The eyes were a dead give away that he was in fact a witcher, but once she saw the silver medallion that rested on his chest, she knew.

Jaskier nodded his head for Geralt to walk forward and he did, his footsteps were light, his pace slow and steady as he walked closer to the royal family. (Y/N)’s hand gently covered her mouth in excitement. Her eyes flickering to her brother who grinned at her.

“A bit of an early birthday gift.” He winked. Once Geralt was closer to the group Jaskier turned so he could introduce them, at his sister's side. All eyes were on him. Even the few people who were still seated at the table were looking at him. He started to feel a bit more uneasy. He started to remember how far away his swords were if he needed them. This alone was beginning to make him panic. He was not used to being welcomed into royal courts unless it was specifically for a hunt.

“This is Geralt of Rivia, one of the most feared, renowned, and skilled Witcher’s the content has to offer. And also my best friend.”

Geralt's eyes were back on (Y/N)’s, his worries dropped more when she smiled brightly at him. Her eyes gleamed.

Geralt bowed his head to the three of them, “ it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, your highnesses.” (Y/N) was nearly blown over by the sultry sound of his voice. She had only heard stories of the witcher. Never see him for herself and definitely had never heard him speak. She never expected a monster hunter to be as handsome as he was. She admired every feature he had. Her eyes fixating on his chiseled jawline, the light gray stubble across his chin and cheeks.

“My, what a pleasure it is to meet such a famed warrior as yourself Geralt!” The king spoke before (Y/N) could, which she was happy about as she did not trust her voice to not waver at his beauty in that moment.

“You my dear are very popular around here. Your stories are legendary. The school children even host yearly plays, Reenacting your most beloved stories.” (Y/N)’s mother added her finger pointing light hardly at Geralt. Her hand came out gracefully from her side to shake the Witcher’s hand. He gently took it, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His attention returned to (Y/N).

“I’m terribly sorry I’m the birthday gift from your brother this year.” She shook her head almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Do not be sorry Geralt-'' the way she said his name made him feel as though he could keel over. “I would like to thank you, for protecting my brother for the years you have. He never skips on his gratitude for you in his letter to me. For that we are all eternally grateful for you.” She reached her hand out. Geralt wasted no time in grabbing her hand, shaking it gently. He was dying inside, but he couldn't let her or anyone else see. He took a gentle step towards her, his head lowering softly, his soft lips were placed on the back of her small hand. The small action made the young girls' faces burn red. Her eyes flicked to her brother who smugly smiled, knowing danm well his gift was going to take the cake.

“Well, you both should come join us, we just started eating.” The king said with a smile, with a quick wave of his hand two more places we set.

(Y/N) gently removed her hand from Geralt’s. Walking towards the table, both men in tow. As she reached her spot she moved her plate and glass to the middle seat that had been prepared, leaving Jaskier a seat next to their mother and Geralt a seat next to her. They all sat and waited as food was served to them. (Y/N) could feel Geralt watching her as she ate, her brother deep in conversation with her parents about his most recent travels. But she wasnt listening. Her attention was only on the man seated to her left. She looked over at the man, eyed him up and down then turned to her brother. For the first time she noticed how ugly their attire was.

“Gods Jaskier who dressed you two?” She asked as she sipped her orange juice. Both men looked at her. Jaskier looked a bit hurt and Geralt only snorted.

“I told him the clothes were horrendous.” Geralt said beside the young woman making her giggle. The sound made his heart beat faster. This was also when he realized how sensibly everyone else in the room was dressed, and how much they stood out. (Y/N) was in a thin white cotton dress, it was around knee length and a light sweater was on her shoulders. Her mother and father dressed similarly. Their clothes looking normal, comfortable.

“Oh my dear brother. What have you done to the poor witcher.” She laughed, turning her attention to him. She could see how uncomfortable the clothes made him. The vest was way too tight and he was practically bursting out of his pants, not that she minded, she gladly enjoyed the view.

“He is torturing me. That's what.” Geralt scoffed and she couldn't help but giggle again.

“You're so dramatic Geralt it's truly not that bad.” Her head flicked to her brother.

“Jaskier don't be rude.” She tutted him like a mother, it made Geralt snort under his breath as he took a bite of his eggs. She stood and walked behind him. He was stiff at her movements.

“Do you mind?” Her fingers were on the strings of the vest. He shook his head no and she quickly untied the tight strings, and it fell from his shoulders. She took it off and handed it to one of the maids

“You can burn that horridly ugly thing.” She said as she sat back down.

“I do not remember you being so rude, little sister.” Jaskier quipped.

“What I think is rude is how you made sure you got the more presentable clothing and dressed your poor friend in those horrendous colors. Have you seen his pants, Jaskier?? It's a miracle he can still breath.” Her eyes looked towards the witcher who was already looking at her with a cocky smirk on his face, glad she was putting Jaskier in his place for the ugly outfit choice.

“I can take you to the seamstress later today, if you’d like Geralt.” Her smile was like a drug.

“I’d appreciate that m'lady.” He said softly.

“And I can show you around the city, both of you. But in return I would like to hear some of your stories, first hand if that’s doable.”

“That sounds like a reasonable trade.” Geralt quipped back.

“Then it's a date, Witcher.”

“A date it is.”

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: You realize you've made a mistake of selling a part of your body to a certain Witcher and his Mage, Yennefer, in return for a lumpsum of coins.

And now, you cannot back out. Instead, you're drowning knee deep into your developing feelings for Geralt of Rivia who belongs to her.

Warnings: Will have 18+ content, and will not follow the storyline, I know that Witchers are sterile but forced pregnancy.

[My Masterlist]

A/N- You can also find this fic on my AO3 by the same name, my account name is @slutforcavill.

Pt. 1

You stared at the happy couple, jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach. You felt deflated, hurt and angry, but this was how it was. You were just a vessel, for the Witcher, and his lover, the Mage, Yennefer of Vengerberg. You kept watching them, from the corner of your eye, yet you kept a safe distance, lest either of them saw the tears spurting down your cheeks at the sight of them, laughing together— though technically she laughed, and he just grunted, but you could see the not so hidden amusement in his eyes.

It hurt, nonetheless—

If a month back, you knew this is what you would be feeling; one month down the line; you wouldn't have landed yourself into this mess of a situation, just for a pouch full of coin. You would have steered clear from a certain white haired man, eyes bright and somber like the shining sun, perhaps even brighter, and his woman, one of the most powerful mages you had come across.

If only, someone had warned you before—

It didn't help; the fact that you were already struggling to feed yourself, have three meals a day worth grain at your shack, that you called a home [back at Redania].

It all started when one day, Yennefer of Vengerberg, as she introduced herself, ended up at your doorstep, asking for your help, in return for a massive pouch full of coin.

Coin enough to last you for almost two years—

You found yourself lost in thoughts— when a month back, you were tending to your sheep, rearing enough wool so you could knit yourself a blanket warm enough to last the Winters. You didn't know where she came from; it was only later you found out that she was a mage, and she could use portals to go anywhere in the world. What you didn't understand then, and could not understand till date was why they chose you.

Maybe the Mage could feed on your desperation— knowing how badly you were looking for a steady job so the coin could keep flowing. And then, there was a fact that you were a virgin— not yet ruined by any man, and this was exactly what she was looking for.

"Can I help you?" You asked the woman, eyeing her from the corner of your eyes, your eyesight trailing over her richly clothed form. She looked divine and exotic, draped in rich princely colours, red and gold.

She looked right at you, her lips curling into a devious smile. She nodded to herself, although satisfied, and took her own sweet time to finally respond, "You can help me. And I can help you. I heard from the villagers that you are looking for work. Isn't that right?"

You nodded, placing the wool into a basket.

"Well then, I'm here to offer you a job."

A job she did offer, only you didn't know what to think of it. She sat there by a chair next to your fireplace [ that so obviously needed more wood ] , her left leg elegantly draped over her right leg, her posture poised and regal, her eyes scanning your face as it contorted into a series of emotions— shock, numbness, anger, hope.

The job that she so generously offered to you was the job of a vessel. What she wanted of you was your womb, a vessel that she could use to grow her child.

Hers and Geralt of Rivia's child—a spawn that was to be created of her magic.

Neither Geralt, nor Yennefer were fertile. They couldn't conceive, biologically, but magically, this was possible. Yennefer told you everything— how she could finally become a mother, a yearning she had buried into the pit of her heart ever since she had buried the little princess, Queen Kalis' daughter, into the sand that day.

It wasn't until she met the white haired man, and an attraction flared, did her desperation for a babe began strumming into her heart. And she passed on this desire of hers to her lover, like a contagious disease until the two of them wanted nothing more than to bring a babbling young half Witcher half Mage into the world.

Her spell, although, could fertilize the Witcher's seed, turning him potent for this once, however, it wasn't enough to turn her own barren womb into a vessel that could carry their child. They needed a woman, a human— untouched— so Geralt could ruin her, and she could give them what they desired.

Yennefer also knew that no woman would agree to this, unless she offered something of value.

It was easy for you to agree.

Neither did you have a family, nor a lover. Besides, an opportunity had walked up to your door yourself, and you couldn't push it away.

But now, a month later, you regretted it.

When you saw them together, and it felt like your heart was being sliced through, slowly— torturing and burning you from the inside.

“Behold, what a fine view you have here, don’t they look beautiful together?” Jaskier was the first one to have decided to intrude into your private space, so suddenly, you were forced to pull your gaze away from the two of them, and crane your neck to your side so you could subtly wipe your tears away.

“Define beauty, Jaskier.” You grumbled under your breath your words barely audible, and you felt the Bard sit down next to you, his arm now brushing against yours as he swallowed a mouthful of ale before turning his head towards you.

“Like.. my songs? Although, they’re much beautiful than those two over there,” he almost began, but you cut him off abruptly, pushing yourself up to your feet, looking down at him.

“Can we not talk about this, Jas’? I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what, [Y/N]? Sit in a corner and cry a river like you were doing a few seconds back? Don’t think the bard a dumb brute, I see things.”

Your lips parted in surprise. He had caught you. You sheepishly blinked, running your hand absentmindedly through your hair, shaking your head as you denied it, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed, but didn't make an attempt to stand up. Instead, you watched him sit back, trying to get more comfortable as a smile broke out against his lips, "If I were you, I'd tell him how I really feel. Now I know you've got competition, a pretty fierce one, might I add, but what's the fun if you get everything handed to you in a silver platter, and you don't have to work for it?"

"Jas—"

You had barely begun speaking when a fight broke out in the tavern, between two men that you didn't know, right across from where you were seated, and Jaskier's attention was flung away. You watched, in exasperation, as he began cheering all of a sudden, and Geralt, a few tables away, clenched his fists and pursed his lips in annoyance, leaning and whispering something into her ears.

You watched as the beautiful mage slowly rose from her place, and fixed her gaze on you until she was on her way to where you were.

"How are you feeling, little pet?" She raised an eyebrow, and you bit your lip, almost too hard, the taste of metal strong against your taste buds. Oh, how you fought the urge to bark at her and send her back to her beloved, who had his eyes, unmoving, on the two of you.

"Fine." You muttered, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at her.

You didn't understand why you hated this woman.

No, you did— but you didn't want to acknowledge it— it was because of a certain white haired man, who still had his gaze stilled on you, and you couldn't help but feel like your insides were on fire aching for his touch. You wondered how one look from him was enough to weaken your resolve, what would you do if the man ever brushed his hand against you, or even breathed in a close proximity as the Mage was now in?

Stop thinking about this, [Y/N]. He isn't yours to think of.

"Come on, it's time we keep moving, can't afford to waste two hours as the Sun's already up."

You blinked, cursing yourself for feeling so flustered but what could you do? This was the first time you had heard the Witcher say more words than the occasional hums and grunts directed towards you.

You and Yennefer began walking out of the tavern, Jaskier following the two of you, while Geralt was ahead of the two of you, as you began continuing your journey to the Great Mount in Aedirn, a journey you had been on with them now for over thirty days.

For once, you couldn't stop your racing heart from thinking of what was going to happen between you and the White haired man once you reached this Mount.

[dreamescapeswriting]

One Summer In Paris ~ Is She Mine? ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.4 K 

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers, smut at a later date

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || NEXT

As soon as the plane touched the floor Jungkook instantly felt at home even if his home wasn't Paris it was still felt like home to him. Everything about Paris made him feel at peace and in a place, he couldn't help but fall in love with more and more every time they came here. Pulling his bag through the airport calling Namjoon to let him know that he'd arrived in Paris safely like the leader had requested but he had to have been sleeping because there was no answer from him so he just put his baseball cap on paired with some sunglasses and walked out, keeping his head down as he walked.

The joys of the break coming like this meant that no one knew where he was heading, not even his manager knew that Jungkook had flown to France he didn't want everyone following him around he wanted it to be just like his old times there when he was a kid and the last summer he was there. This break was about spending time alone and just having some time to breathe, no paparazzi, no fans. He adored all of ARMY but sometimes he just needed some time to himself.

It was almost four years to the date when the boys all took a break from their idol life to spend some time off and away from everything and just like today he flew to Paris. One of the places he'd loved as a kid since he would always come here on his summer breaks,

"Bonjour," He greeted one of the cab drivers who nodded at him through the rearview mirror with no response, waiting for the address to be given to him. Jungkook could recite the address as if it was his own home address, it had never left his brain even in the four years he'd been away from it.

"234 Louvre Road please," It was the address of an apartment above a book shop, one that he'd spent most of his inside of when he came to Paris with his grandmother, and the one he'd been in four summers ago the last time he was alone in the city without the boys around. Of course, they'd been there many times since but Jungkook could never break away from them or the paparazzi long enough to go and visit the small shop.

"Right away Sir, what brings you to the city of love?" Jungkook assumed he was trying to make some conversation to help pass the time so he just decided to speak back to him. The man was balding and had a thick black beard, he couldn't have been any older than his 50's.

"I've missed coming here, so I decided it was time for a visit." He chuckled to himself even though what he was saying wasn't funny. It was the nervous chuckle he did whenever he didn't know what to say, he turned and began staring out of the window as he passed by everything. Nothing had changed, the views were still spectacular no matter the angle you looked from, everything was still just as beautiful as ever. The sun was already starting to set in the city and it made everything look more impressive than it already did, the fairy lights were just starting to twinkle on the Effiel Tower. 

"No story of a long lost love living here? I've heard them all kid and I can read you like a book," The man laughed softly as he pulled onto the main road, Jungkook's heart sank at the thought of you even still being in Paris, you would have been long gone by now there was no way of knowing. 

"No. Not for me." He lied, laughing it off as though it wasn't weighing him down so he kept his attention on the view out of the window, looking at all the different people that were around him. All of the couples running along together, families huddled together as they toured the city of love. 

This was supposed to be a creative break for him, Namjoon told him that he thought Jungkook could have a breakthrough with some lyrics he'd been struggling on so he was hoping Namjoon was right about that. Paris was always one of the places Jungkook felt most creative, the art and the people all inspiring him. It was where he'd written a lot of the love songs that were on his mixtape...That wasn't released yet, Jungkook didn't think it was ready but he was sure after this break it would be. He just needed something...More.

"Here you go sir," Jungkook tipped the taxi driver and got out at the small book shop. 

It was just the way he remembered it from his childhood and the summer he'd spent there. The small shop nestled right between the river and across from the Effiel tower, the view from the apartments above it was honestly breathtaking and made him wonder how the place was still just a book shop instead of a B&B but he didn't mind, the place was still there, still his private little nesting place. He wondered if the inside had changed all over the last four years of him being gone, Grace was always crazy about changing everything inside. Going on about how the decor was wrong, or the shelves needed rearranging whenever she didn't like something in its place. He was about to head inside of the shop when he froze in place, his hand on the handle of his suitcase tensing while his knuckles turned when he saw you standing there. 

Reaching across the counter probably speaking French to one of the customers since it was practically your native tongue the way you spoke it, your hair was longer than it was Four summers ago and you seemed happier somehow. The corners of your lips were turned up in a smile and it made his stomach flip and kick the longer he watched you engaging with someone. Although he had no idea what you were saying he was making it up in his head, imagining what you would say to someone who was asking for a book recommendation. It had been one of your favourite things to do in the shop, you'd read so many different books Jungkook always wondered how you kept it all in your head.

"Excusez-Moi monsieur, Allez-Vous à l'intérieur?" Excuse me, sir, are you going in?" Jungkook was pulled from his daydream about you and turned to see a small elderly lady holding a stack of books in her hand, he'd hardly heard her and he doubted that he would if she hadn't have tapped his shoulder to gain his attention. She frowned at him as she watched him, Jungkook could have sworn she looked an awful lot like Grace but he couldn't be sure.

"Oh, Oh...Sorry. No." He stepped out of the way darting to hide down the side of the shop when you looked up. There was a bell above the door that alerted whoever was working that someone had entered so you glanced up, right as Grace walked through the door with a stack of books in her hand.

"Bonjour!" He heard your voice and it was just as sweet as he remembered it from before, you still sounded like you which was good since you were you and not some alien that was disguised to look like you...He knew it was impossible. But his flight over here had been cramped full of dreams about you...Nightmares rather. One stemming from an Alien abduction to the next one of you flipping out at him when you see him.

"There was an odd boy outside, I'm sure I know him." That was his cue to leave that meant that the woman had been Grace. Grace was like a mother to you so he knew you would have told her all about him and why he'd left you, he dragged his suitcase down the cobbled road trying to find another taxi service. He couldn't stay in the apartment above the bookshop you were working in. It would feel too weird but his heart was aching to go and see you one last time. To get one last glance at you before he disappeared, his heart yearned for it but he shook his head, keeping his eyes downcast as he tried to find a cab.

"An odd boy? Madame Grace, you think everyone is odd," You laughed softly at the elderly lady taking her in the direction of the back of the shop to settle her down with a pot of tea and one of the books she'd brought along with her. It was her own store but she'd never read anything from inside of it. 'It's all junk' She said to you one day as she settled down with books in different languages you could never understand. 

"He was really odd, just watching you through the window. I thought he was going to come in but then I startled him," She continued ranting about how he shouldn't have been standing in the doorway like that how it would only deter people from coming into the charming little bookshop she owned. You poured her a cup of tea into the small teacup and shook your head at her,

"I'm sure he was just lost Madame Grace," Your voice came out softly and she patted the top of your hand, she always knew you were nice to everyone. 

"Where is your handsome boyfriend?" She meant David, of course, she loved him since she was the one to set you up with him and he was..."One of a kind." There was one thing about him, you hadn't worked out what it was going on between you, you knew he liked you a lot and he and Arehum - your daughter - got along perfectly well but you weren't sure how you felt about him. There was nothing wrong with him of course, he was a great guy but there just wasn't something there that made you feel connected to him.

"He's out with Arehum." You spoke to her, she sighed happily going back to her books as you left to go and answer the bell that had been ringing, it was the latest delivery of books that had been ordered in. Josh was standing there with a clipboard and a box that looked relatively heavy.

"Has the person renting the apartment been by yet?" The delivery boy - Josh - asked as he handed you a box full of books, you grunted putting them down behind the counter. Everyone you were close with knew the ins and outs of the shop and were interested to see who you'd finally decided to rent the apartment out to.

"Not yet, I'm sure they'll turn up soon though. I can't believe someone wants that place, no one's been up there in years." You said as you began singing on the small pad he was holding out for you. The bookshop you worked in had two apartments above it, the bookshop was the bottom and basement floor - the basement was mostly used for storage. Then the apartments were on the second and third floors both of them relatively big to say they were just some small apartments. 

The third floor was one that an ex-boyfriend of yours had stayed in over the summer four years ago since then no one had rented the apartment out. Mostly because you never advertised it anymore, the thought of someone going up there...Being there where your memories were didn't sit right with you but when someone called to book it you couldn't say no. So you had to venture up there the other day when you had to clean it out since Grace was far too old to come to the shop and do it herself. She struggled walking around alone nevermind climbing up all those stairs and cleaning.

"I hope so anyway, I didn't clean that place out for nothing." You joked as Josh bean walking out of the door and left you to deal with the boxes in front of you. Most of them were on the History of Paris and some were old cliche romances that Grace had clearly snuck onto the order, she was a sucker for the cliches and as much as it pained you to admit it...So were you. The cliche romances where there are two people one bed or enemies to lovers...They were always a favourite of yours.

This was not how Jungkook wanted to spend his holiday, he'd been longing to stay in that apartment since it was where all of his memories were but seeing you there sent him into a wave of emotions, mostly guilt for what he'd done to you. How things had ended between you both wasn't the best of ways. 

The Hotel Antoniette was the hotel he'd found the quickest, it was close to the bookshop in case he found himself brave enough to head inside at a later date. The hotel was huge and elaborate, probably since it had been a palace belonging to a French Aristocracy. It was close to the Tuileries Garden and the Louvre which he adored, he could remember all of the times he'd spent roaming around the museum and the garden with you hand in hand as you spoke about your day in the shop and his time in Paris. Back then you had no idea who he was, to you he was just Jungkook who'd been travelling on his break from college to come and see Paris and decided to stay a little longer for the ''view'.' Which of course, the view was you. He wished he'd been honest with you about who he really was. Maybe none of it would have happened. Maybe you would have somehow made it all work out, he could still be happy with you.  

His suite was right on the top floor - the best that money could buy him, he figured it would bring more privacy if he could just hide out in the hotel room most of the days. He was sure he could find something to occupy his mind if he did end up stuck here. The room had french-style windows that opened up onto a balcony giving him the most magnificent view of Paris he pushed the doors open to look at the fairy lights on the Effiel Tower in the pitch-black night. He kept his eyes on the structure, watching the way all the lights changed somehow making them look like stars. It was stunning to look at but his mind was going back to you in that book shop. He wondered how you were, How you'd been doing over the last four years and if you'd even remember him but, of course, you would. How could you after what you went through together? That kind of love couldn't have been one-sided and he doubted you could forget it so easily. 

Trying to distract himself he went back into his suite to go and unpack his bag, the whole place was like a huge apartment all decorated in white with marble counters. The bedding was a pale-peach kind of colour stacked high with pillows that he had no idea how he was going to get back onto the bed the next morning when he got up. He slid his bag over to the dressing room and almost dropped the case on the spot, it was only half of the size of the bedroom and it was lined wall to wall with mirrors all doubling as wardrobes he could see himself in every square inch of the room so he began unpacking as quickly as he could, making a promise to himself not to go in there at night time because it scared him. The thought of walking into a dark room and catching his own reflection...He'd seen enough horror movies to know better than that.

By the time he got back out of the hotel it was getting close to 10:30 pm and he wanted to stop by the shop one last time, just to see you and maybe try to speak to you. He had his hat on, hoodie pulled around his body with some shorts on since it was summer and quite warm at night, most of the shops were already closing up but he noticed the lights inside the book store were all on. 

"Grace I can lock up alone," Your voice came out smooth as you spoke the small old lady who'd been outside of the shop earlier when Jungkook had been there confirming it to be Grace. You slid a cup of what looked like something hot into her hand it was steaming and Jungkook scoffed. Who could drink hot drinks in this weather? It was far too hot for that. It was much better to have a cold drink on a night like this.

"How was your day?" Grace questioned you sitting back against an armchair that was inside of the shop, Jungkook remembered picking the chair out with you at a car boot sale you both went to. He remembered taking it back to the shop in a struggle before the both of you curled up to sleep in it. The chair wasn't huge but it was comfy enough to take a nap together there for an hour or two until he woke up and had a dead arm from the position you'd fallen asleep in. Jungkook felt like such a creep for watching through the giant glass window but there was something about you that was different that he couldn't put his finger on. 

"It was okay, Josh came by with a new delivery. How was your day Areum?" You called out behind Grace, Jungkook wondered who Areum was who you seemed to change your tone for. Your tone went from soft to even softer as you looked down at someone. Jungkook remembered you mentioning the name a lot around him but he knew it wasn't one of your friends. All of your friends had french snotty names which were one of the reasons he never wanted to meet them, that and he couldn't risk them knowing who he was and blabbing it to the press that he was in Paris with a girl.

"Areum, how was your day?!" Grace asked politely and a small girl came out from one of the bookshelves dressed in a Princess dress twirling around and waving a wand in the air, Jungkook's mouth fell open as his eyes landed on the small girl. Her hair was long to the lower of her back it was curled at the ends and she had the biggest smiles he'd ever seen on her face as she twirled around and around in one spot. 

As he finally got a good look at her his heart sank to the floor as he realised she was the spitting image of him, she had his smile, his eyes and hair colour even the little dimple that he had on his left cheek. He stumbled into a metal table knocking it over and knocking the sign to the shop over, you laughed looking up to see which drunken idiot had knocked it over this time but the smile faded from your lips as soon as you locked eyes with him outside of the window. Your heart began to pound as you stared at one another, your mouth falling into an 'O' shape the longer you watched him. Part of you was praying it was just your eyes playing tricks on you. 

"Y/n?" Everyone was in the background as you stared at Jungkook through the window swallowing the huge lump in your throat. No one else in the room mattered now that your eyes were on him. Grace followed your gaze wondering what the big deal was when she saw the same boy from before standing there. Both of you having a stare off as you looked at one another through the giant window. 

"He was outside earlier! I told you he was a creep, I'll ring the police." You shook your head rapidly, taking her hand away from the shop phone and telling her to take Areum up the staircase instead. Grace nodded rushing your very confused daughter up the stairs in the back of the shop while Jungkook made his way into the shop, red in the face as he looked at the small girl. All of the dots in his head connecting to get a different image but one still remained as he watched the small girl. Her eyes locking with his as it hit him, 

"Y/n...Is she mine?"

MASTERLIST || NEXT

A/N: Just an introduction chapter but what do you guys think so far? 💞✨ If you’d like to be added to a tagline for it let me know 

@taestannie @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @rjsmochii​ @innersooya​

[mde1011]

when i got into the dsmp i started a note and wrote down any quotes or moments i thought were funny, and im bored at 3 am so enjoy some of them

how is being arrested real? just walk away!!!”

⁃ “once an american always an american. go...go protests masks...or something”

⁃ “...yEAH BUT DID YOU HAVE WAP” “what’s...whats wap?” “...WORSHIP AND PRAYER”

⁃ “HOW DO YOU LIKE POLITICS MOTHERFUCKER”

⁃ “i’m naked” “...no you’re not” “i can be...”

⁃ “uhhhh i’m in a high stress situation....i deal with these poorly”

⁃ “i should go first i’m naked”

⁃ “yEAHHHH WE KILLED AN OLD MAN WITH HEART PROBLEMS”

⁃ “what are you going to do?” “i...have no idea i think i’m gonna start out by punching a tree”

⁃ “tOmmy...did i just hear you say shit ass looking mofo?”

⁃ “i aM gOinG to gEt nAkeD to iNtiMidAtE HiM”

- “...i want freedom !” “you want BALLS.”

⁃ “...down the line. yeah that’s where we discover the art of cannibalism” “oh it’s an art?” “it’s an art”

⁃ “oh there’s some logs here. wonder what they’re saying to me. uh huh. uh huh. oh yeah that’s very racist” “tommy you gotta burn those logs.” “burn ‘em before they spread their racism to other logs”

⁃ “are you pooing?” “*whisper* i’m charging up-““ “he’s ejaculating on the tent.” “he’s WHAT?”

⁃ “he’s sPEEDING. LOOK HOW FAST HES GOING” “i’ve taken so many drugs. someone tell badboyhalo”

⁃ “we should make a pact. and that pact is, uh, we make a book...and in that book...we declare that saying ‘muffin’ is a, is a slur”

⁃ “i was thinking what if one day your bladder just,,,,stopped working.....AGGGFFFFF i was tHINKING ABOUT THAT THE OTHER DAY IVE GOT TO PREPARE IVE GOT YO PREPARE thisiswhydiapersaintthatbad”

⁃ <sapnap> i think i was ordered to um

<tommyinnit> boobed

<sapnap> kill you

<tommyinnit> boobs

<sapnap> if this happens

<tommyinnit> think about boobs man

<sapnap> tsk tsk tommy

<tommyinnit> iM DISGRUNTLED

⁃ “why is this deadman so good at making drugs”

⁃ “i just learnt that a girl hero is called a heroine and it freaked me out”

⁃ “memento memento me-“ “that’s actually the worst word i know so you can’t keep saying that” “oh, really.....? have you ever heard the term ‘racist’?”

⁃ “the person who invented the phrase ‘be yourself’ hadn’t met you!”

⁃ “you seem like the type of guy whose dad would throw him overboard as a joke but he would just drown”

⁃ “shout out to dream for twerking!”

⁃ “let’s talk......let’s talk about sex” “wonderful. what do you think about sex, lazarbeam?” “i ain’t saying SHIT in front of a sixteen year old”

⁃ “what the- i think i’m seeing things” “....tommy i told you not to drink the sea water” “well i DID drink the sea water because it TOLD ME TO”

⁃ “it’s like the movie when that guy gets stranded on an island and has sex with a coconut” “whAT?? dream- dream, you vastly misinterpreted this” “it one hundred percent does”

⁃ “oh mastICATE.....isn’t that when a fish turns inside out?”

⁃ “what are some bad words YOU know, clay?” “i don’t-“ “what about ‘terrorist’?”

⁃ “my mind has to be on the same frequency as jesus when he walked on water”

⁃ “you wanna know why i was late?” “no i really do-“ “i was having a MASSIVE poo. really just a HUGE poo”

⁃ “jUST CUZ YOU TALK ABOUT POO ONCE AND THEN YOU SEE A BIG GREEN BASTARD AMD YOUR LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES AND THEN YOU CANT REMEMBER- YOU CANT REMEMBER IF IT WAS YESTERDAY OR TOMORROW YOU HURT THAT WOMAN”

⁃ “i love america. mmmmm patriotism

⁃ “LIFE IS NOT A HAPPY SONG KERMIT THE FROG”

⁃ “please stop taking the cock”

⁃ “two four six eight who do we appreciate? not the government let’s gooooooo”

⁃ “oooo look at the dogs😍” “wHAAAAAT. WHAT. THERES ACTUALLY LIKE. A MILLION DOGS HERE. WHAT THE HELL.”

⁃ “yeahhhhh bitch i stab- i don’t stab women-“ “woooooooah tommy you stab women?” “heyyyy sapnap”

⁃ “do you know what happens whne you reach the top of the ladder? there’s only one place to go.” “.....side to side😨” “down.” “...i really thought you were gonna say side to side🥺”

⁃ “one last time.” “just like in hamilton😓”

⁃ “you don’t know how many times i’ve mistaken trees for hot women”

⁃ “ i don’t feel better i just destroyed penis”

⁃ “i’ve never seen a snail with bad morals”

�� “awwwwwwww😢 i’m doin’ drugs🤧 just like the good ol’ days😓” “.....define the ‘good old days’” “back when i did drugs”

⁃ “have you ever fought a baby? i have and it was trivially easy to defeat, phil.”

⁃ “the only other i egg i know about was the one i learnt about in school....not allowed to say which one....”

⁃ “did you know one of my new years resolutions is to be more like 2010 justin bieber?”

⁃ “apparently cats don’t lay eggs”

⁃ “thinking about trees- if i saw a tree with a beard mmmmmm...holy shit id hit it”

⁃ “we’re in hell dude. science doesn’t matter here”

⁃ “i cant die i cant die i’m GOD”

⁃ “hey pig your letter is the same as pussy, hmm?”

⁃ “are we cool are we COOL guys? CRYSTAL COOL like CRYSTAL METH”

⁃ “he- he’s crying because - because i killed his mother isn’t that right? mother dearest mother deadest mother gonest”

⁃ “bro ive been drinking since i was six and let me tell you...it’s not good to be drinking that young. led to some poor life decisions when i was 8” “what did you do” “i cant say” “...who did you hurt” “....only myself”

⁃ “je suis” “ay i know what that mean you prick” “what does it mean” “it means you’re racist dickhead”

⁃ “i’d never poo in the presence of a women- which is why i’m scared to get a girlfriend i think i’d just explode”

⁃ “biff tannen is one of my idols”

⁃ “black widow died and i thought ‘wow it should’ve been the man’ because he’s a man”

⁃ “there’s a character called captain america and i think he’s stupid”

⁃ “i’m a GOOD LAD i’ve got GOOD MORALS and if i’ve DONE SOMETHING WRONG it WASNT MY FAULT I JUST GOT A LITTLE EXCITED”

⁃ “sam....what’s the longest you’ve ever wiped your arse? for me it’s 48 minutes”

⁃ “why are you standing in the shitter?” “....that’s a SINK” “uhhh welllll” “hAVE YOU SHAT IN THE SINK?????”

⁃ “you’re like a living ghost” “...i think that’s called a human, tubbo”

⁃ “maybe i accidentally kill ranboo and we just never see him again *laughs* ay? and then i go ‘april foooools!!!’ and then i kill their child. i kill him”

⁃ “you built a penis” “it’s a PENIS OF SAFETY”

⁃ “i saw the penis of safety and i pressed mouse button four my friend”

⁃ “the penis on the other side of the river is larger” “ive heard that before....”

⁃ “you’ve turned the penis into a wall” “a wall of safety is better than a penis of safety” “i think the penis was better”

⁃ “if you wanna make a penis i know where we can make a penis and i know how big we can make it”

⁃ “i don’t conceptualize death but i think i just saw it!”

⁃ “yeah i- yeah i know i’m- my first impression on eret was making him read a shrek fan fiction so- i’m not one for first impressions”

⁃ “i-i’m scared for him- i’m scared OF him. yknow the first thing he did when he saw me was imMEDIATELY strip down then jump off then immediately die?”

⁃ “where are you?” “getting stabbed, one second”

⁃ “you’ve seen the joker?” “yea-“ “i resonate a lot with that man” “...oH. oh. that’s- that’s not-“

⁃ “he bURNT DOWN MY HOUSE” “out of LOVE”

⁃ “ohhhh my god stop making me play with the neighbor kid” “o-okay if you don’t go play with him i’m kicking you out of the house-“ “wHAT THE FUCK???”

⁃ “there’s a STRIP CLUB” “oh yeah for wood!” “are you into strippers?” “i mean all it does is make the wood look different so....yeah it doesn’t really do much”

⁃ “no no we have categories, we have the poo-saster- you might have to take a shower after-“ “no, no i’m gonna stop you right there”

⁃ “as i was saying you can have a 1-to-3 wiper, that’s an A-tier poo, my friend”

⁃ “i want you to eat your sock”

⁃ “you know i’m a child- i’m a minor” “sO AM I DICKHEAD”

⁃ “everyone is calling you dresus” “yeah i am”

⁃ “ayyyy ayyyy los DROGAS LOS DROGAS” “no no big q- she’s thirteen- how does this happen with every 13 year old girl you meet?”

⁃ “my poo has muscles like i do”

⁃ “i cant hear the words among us without crying they’ll say there are aliens among us and in the back youll just hear me *choking noises*”

⁃ “tubbo...tubbo is like...tubbo is like mary” “.....did you just call me the Virgin Mary?”

⁃ “i’m just saying, have you ever seen me and jesus in the same room?”

⁃ “do you smoke sam” “all the time”

⁃ “i thought you were talking about the- the speeeeed drug”

⁃ “have you ever sold drugs to kids sam?” “......no”

⁃ “we can’t let the girlboss rule because she will gatekeepe my feelings” “that would not be good”

⁃ “THEY DIDNT INVITE ME TO KILL ME???? NOW I HAVE FOMO”

⁃ “you have obviously taken part in scientology-“ “i have not-“ “you’ve donated to tom cruises cult shit”

⁃ “....am i worse than david dobrik?” “are- are we worse than david dobrik?” “oh- oh god”

⁃ “he has broke one of the rules of the hit best seller ‘the bible’- this kind of looks like a cock”

⁃ “well i’ve moved now, KING”

⁃ “what is an angsty teen and am i one? because when i USED to hang out with my friends they use the word angst a lot”

⁃ “yeah yeah yeah i bench”

⁃ “sam i think i’m angsty i think i’m an angsty tik tok teen looking for a community to help me out”

⁃ “i don’t think you’ve followed the train of logic all the way-“ “there’s a TRAIN INVOLVED????????”

⁃ “i’m like the orange fucker from that animated rom com”

⁃ “i’m under the influence of big cock”

⁃ “it’s meeee big cock man”

⁃ “i cant look away” “sam please use your twitter alt for this” “he’s horny on maaaainnnnn” “and what’s wrong with that?” “.......”

⁃ “you’re a FUCKING IDIOT” “IM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT, BIG COCK”

⁃ “i’m gonna call you ‘cockity’ big cock” “sHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP-“

⁃ “STOP LOOKING AT IT” “ITS SO VIBRANT”

⁃ “at least this guy doesn’t have a cock-“ “itS NOT A COCK” “horny on main jesus-“

⁃ “is that a cock” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

⁃ “.....i wanna see the inside of it again do a split”

⁃ “okay sam-“ “tommy that guy wants your cock-“ “no- no he doesn’t sam”

⁃ “sam, sam and i need you to hear this....dont. act. up.” “i don’t act up-“ “you were acting up-“ “i-“ “you were caught in 8k.” “but- but we both agree it’s not a tie-“

⁃ “please don’t tell me to kill cockity i am overwhelmed”

⁃ “why is there an anus in my tie?”

⁃ “what are the legal implications of this?” “...i mean besides hell you’re good”

⁃ “whatre the legal implications?” “i mean usually that’s a no-no but today, today it’s fine” “yeahhh lets go murder his family”

⁃ “i’d be an antivax landlord”

⁃ “jesus never does drugs” “well- well you turned water into wine king and wine is alcohol”

⁃ “can you put on pants i can’t- i cant stop looking at it- sorry tommy i know you said-“ “yeah sam i know you tried-“

⁃ “you know i fuck with satan”

⁃ “i’m sorry jesus lucifer is just such a good man-“ “oh you- hold me BACK FROM THIS FUCKER HOLD ME BACK ILL SEND HIM TO HELL YOU LIKE HELL-“

⁃ “are you jesus or just a man who grew a beard and put on a suit?”

⁃ “even the guy with his cock out is telling you to stop-“ “oh jesus, and i mean jesus-“ “shUT THE FUCK UP MAN”

⁃ “the best best way to slander him is to stop his offspring; we need to kick him the balls.....no? not a good....? alright us four each take a ball-“

⁃ “......why did jesus give him four scrotums man🙁🙁”

[agustaviolin]

i am in love with you

i am in love with you

i hate to be the bringer

of such devastating news

four and a half years

you wouldn’t believe it

i had my first in a rich neighbourhood 

so far away from you

i hated it

had my second in a dorm

just like yours

only you weren’t there

same as the last four and a half years

she laid herself out like a feast

the third

but it wasn’t what i wanted

because it wasn’t with you

for whom i was made

oh, with you

into a golden universe

i am in love with you

and you found someone

before i could tell you that 

that my life was made to die with yours

my body made to die with yours

on your bed, somewhere, anywhere

i walked down a hill

in that sleepy coastal city

i was on my way to weatherspoons

to meet your namesake

carrying a heavy bag after class 

end of january, i had met you for the first time

and thought to myself

i have found her

i have found her

it was astronomical 

the refrain of the almost free

saw you walking behind that woman we both knew

you were asking her about the bible

it’s a vivid picture

i almost followed you

i had a question for you, too

a few days later 

i was traversing the pavement 

and upon the hill, a flicker of light

much like a cross

you were standing there

with some girls, some boys

and i was a magnet to your ism

said hi, we talked, you’d just got a new haircut 

and i could’ve pressed my lips against every strand of your hair

in a sacred prelude, but i didn’t 

have it in me to even tell you how beautiful you looked

better than the birth of venus

we stood there for a while

i said come ‘round the catholic church, please

there’s free lunch on sundays

it made you laugh

then you said

we ought to have a cup of tea

earl grey, your favourite

tea

and with it all the kindness of life

tea

and within me i immortalised you

i immortalise you

and i meant to tell you that 

one month before we met

i met someone from your hometown 

they took me ‘round the bay and i took a picture of the church

right where you grew up

the foundation was laid

for a house never built 

i fell in love with the streets and the lamp posts and trains and cliffs that made you

though i didn’t know you yet

how afraid i was

that’s why i didn’t say

i didn’t know that it was okay to want you

and you were the only one

who didn’t ask where i came from

you just accepted me

and then you offered branches

a bridge between two falling stars

i didn’t understand all the lust bursting out of me

in your vicinity 

so i stopped looking at you

and it only made me want you more

and i told our mutual friend

when i was drunk on cheap cider

in may when you were taken

that you must feel like silk

to an intimate observer 

and as we walked into the corner shop

on wet cobblestone

i told her that i loved you

said i love her, i love her, i love her

i wonder if she ever told you that

then shame hurt me

and i stopped taking her calls

your scarf, your scarf

autumn or winter upon you

it doesn’t matter

it’s all a golden-red dream

and my nights are full of your perfect movement

your gracious hands and soul

unattainable literary ballerina

purple heart, you sent me one

when i was on the train to paddington

and in the air there was a beginning unreconstructed 

you asked if i was okay 

because you didn’t see me that day

i should’ve picked up the pace 

should’ve told you anything 

you would’ve listened 

i know you would’ve listened 

and lavender was your breath, your scent, your colour

and our friend tried to make plans

on that valentine’s day

plans that fell through

i didn’t know why it wasn’t our turn

but we already merged like waters

a thousand rivers ago

i can feel it

like lana del rey would say

all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries

all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries

i remember you in your leather jacket

when you sat next to me with a cough 

i wanted to nurse you back to health

then we’d sleep inside each other

that’s what freedom would’ve meant

and i saw you in the half-light, perfect under blue skies

at 2 pm in june

fate was still trying to patch it up

bare-faced, you were the last living rose

i restrained myself from hoping

i was slate-grey inside 

leaving for the counterfeit summer

you were with somebody then

somebody bolder, somebody to break you, another 

it was the last time that i saw you

tried to get back in touch

tried to tell you about it

i never had the words, i’m sorry

and i know i act like we’re close

but trust me, i know

i know it when i see it

and i haven’t seen it since

and maybe you never saw me for who i am

for i was traumatised 

i couldn’t be myself 

i hope you see me now

i know you want immortality 

you wear it like a pearl

the designation to be

remembered by the halls of time

well, that i could’ve given you

i wrote a book of poetry about you

in my mother tongue

it will be published soon

even though they rejected it at first

i wrote three hundred songs about you

at the very least

covered all of my canvases

in colours to beckon you

fixed your name into these walls

at night, when i required you

and that’s when i wanted to ask 

never had the chance 

but i wanted to ask 

is it wrong if the only thing 

i want to wear for you 

is my skin?

i believe in letters 

that’s why i’m telling you this

if you ever ask, like oliver did

whenever i watch that film

i think of you and what could’ve been

my childhood was a prison cage

and i get by in reykjavík these days

without any substances

i don’t know how i get by

there’s a man who watches over me

and still i am alone

i practice my violin four hours per day

and i don’t have any family

and everybody wants to know me

and everybody wants to love me

and everybody wants to fuck me

but some days i feel like i can’t move

i’m blooming, i’m barely living

and i am just as much a man

as i am anything else

and i am starved

to the bone

of you

of every atom in you

it is my calling

to reach into your depths, somehow

i’m twenty-four

i can’t remember your birthday 

but something tells me it’s in the pulp of summer 

not at the death of it like mine

and time isn’t linear

but i will still need you tomorrow 

a habit fastened into me

throughout a thousand days

i didn’t know my name for years

on this frozen island

i couldn’t stand 

and then they burned my heart

with a catheter, you know

i had nobody to hold

i was so sick

made my peace with dying young

and living slow

an undue burden

on a life never begun

a wasted garden

strong and alone

i’m doing better now

i was in london

when i almost died

around midnight 

it stopped beating 

i thought about you every day

and i tried

in my way

it’s okay, it’s okay

i play my violin 

and something great awaits me

and nothing measures up

to the idea of you

and it’s not just an idea

but a tangible memory

it’s so simple 

it’s scripture 

no, i’m not religious 

but maybe there’s some merit to it

for it brought me you

they don’t know who you are

and i’ll never tell them

only you know who you are

i heard about the shooting 

i might understand what led him to do it

he just needed someone to love

i am in love with you

i don’t know why

i just am

it’s pathetic and strange 

but maybe it’s what you’ve been waiting for

all this ever-changing time

it’s taken me long enough 

i am in love with you

this is my verdict, my promise

this is all i can say 

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

golden power; never wielded

my first work for @ninjago-angst-week! prompt - abandoned (16/08) Lloyd's never known what it's like to share his heart with another, linking two lives together as if one had found the melody to their chorus, now a song in perfect harmony. If he’d always felt like he was invisible; wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with his inability to touch others’ hearts, then, well, that was no one’s business but his own. Of course, that was before he quite literally fell for someone - the first person, actually - who seemed to care. Of course she was too good to be true. Or, the S8 angst I've been wanting to write about 'game of masks' and the aftermath. trigger warnings - suicidal thoughts, brief mention of implied self-harm, not really a warning but it talks a lot about loneliness. "How did you know?"

"It's an Oni Temple. It's safe to assume that only an Oni could take it."

"No. How could you know that I was part Oni?"

How could you know that I was part Oni?

The question repeated itself in his mind, echoing into the blizzard.

Sometimes, he wondered what would've gone down at the temple if he hadn't been so observant.

Well, he thought bitterly, probably not the temple itself.

The walls collapsing, he'd caught a glimpse of his terrified face as the room filled with swirling inky blackness, freezing him to the bone.

But the real pain came from her words.

Ah. Your emotions. You can't get rid of them, can you?

No, he'd wanted to yell, staring listlessly at the shaking grey semblance of sky.

He'd always felt like he wielded the element of light; invisible, trapped behind a barrier that no one cared enough to break. Isolated; locked away from the world. Longing for - yearning for - a single soul to want to know his heart. Pain that almost felt tangible, bleeding into every motion, every day.

Everyone else seemed to find it so easy - so effortless - simple as breathing, taken for granted like it was ingrained into their bones. Everyone else seemed to have given away a little piece of their heart - to their parents, friends, or lovers.

The fact that his was, and had always been, entirely whole?

He was either cursed, the venom from the Great Devourer passed down to him, or there was something fundamentally unlikable coursing through his veins.

By this point, he assumed it was the latter.

Maybe, if anyone had ever cared - wanted to know him - he'd never have felt like it was pressing down on his chest like a casket; a useless block of ice that no one wanted, not even the unfortunate owner it'd been given.

If no one would know his heart, he'd thought, grabbing a forgotten map, he'd strike fear into theirs - until they knew what it was like to sob into invisible barriers, to gaze upon the world with a weary eyes and a heart heavy with the knowledge that if they vanished, no one would even notice.

He'd realized far too late that he had unleashed an evil that couldn't be controlled - or one that could only be controlled by his- by someone else that had sunk beneath the darkness until no light remained-

He'd escaped from the crumbling casket, energy and eyes blazing - only to find that Har- she'd already escaped with the mask.

The Oni Mask of Hatred.

As they had steered the boat through the river, her sweet smile hiding lie upon lie, he'd thought it was somewhat ironic - two lovers, seeking a literal manifestation of hatred.

He'd laughed bitterly; no mirth in the sound.

After his first crush had - well, literally tried to crush him, he didn't think that this day could get much worse.

Until she dropped him into a contraption that was the stuff of nightmares - leaving the others with a seemingly impossible choice.

He'd wanted to yell, scream, that they should save his mother - he'd hurt enough people over the course of his short life, as evidenced by the grief-stricken orphan yelling a foreign language right in front of him.

I'm the expendable one! Maybe she was right - it was my fault the Serpentine were able to release the Great Devourer. And it took thousands of lives - but never the life of the one who was to blame.

He'd grabbed the vengestone bars, the faint sense of numbness they brought a welcoming relief from the storm of emotions that- he honestly had no clue what to do with.

i could drown, he had thought briefly, fleetingly. what if i drowned and i never hurt anyone again-

you have  a responsibility, even though you've pretty much failed to uphold it so far

"Clotho venge! Clotho decer! Clotho haeed!"

Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he'd gripped the bars tighter, ignoring the sting of the metal against skin.

If anything, he'd welcomed the sting.

Any pain was better than the agonizing reminder that his heart was, and had always been, entirely whole.

He didn't even realize he was trembling until he heard his father's voice echoing from the vortex.

His father hadn't asked to be bitten by an evil snake, the venom coursing through his veins for years upon years. He hadn't asked to be dumped at a boarding school for bad kids, spending what he had left of his childhood hiding in empty classrooms or yelling empty threats as his classmates snickered.

Against all odds, they'd been reunited. Evil snakes, Fangblades, even Jade Blades - none of it had stood between them.

Just when he thought they might have a future - he might have a- a family - the Cursed Realm decided to curse them all.

His father with imprisonment, him with a life devoid of a father he'd loved, at the end.

Now H- she wanted to resurrect him?

His father had been so much more than the Oni blood in his veins. So was he.

But if he was completely Oni-

Lloyd didn't like their odds. He kind of hated them.

"Clotho venge! Clotho decer! Clotho haeed!"

---

A few chaotic hours later... they'd won? They'd won.

The Sons of Garmadon (he'd always thought the name was kind of ironic - he, the only son of Garmadon, wasn't in their crazy biker gang) had been imprisoned by courageous, if a bit overzealous, taser-wielding policeman.

Ninjago was celebrating - everyone was; he should be, too.

Should he really revel in their victory, though? It was his fault that she'd been able to snatch the last mask, all the safeguards the Oni had put in place practically worthless because of his stupid feelings-

H- Harumi had been thrown in one of the police vans.

"You're right - this isn't me," she'd started, her meekness almost convincing him that she really was the girl he'd fallen for - the girl who'd been forced into a mask she never wanted to wear, but someone who still cared about the world... and- and about him.

"Stop."

He'd cut her off, the venom in his tone surprising both of them.

"Save it for someone who cares," he'd forced out, the hurt welling up his chest almost as painful as their unceremonious descent into the jungle, (the descent she'd orchestrated, he'd thought fleetingly, squeezing his eyes together) unable to believe that this- this liar was the same sweet girl he'd fallen for.

With that, he slammed the door of the van, locking her in - wishing that locking his memories away could be easy.

She'd never cared about him; simply needing to use him as if he was nothing more than the power he wielded.

He watched one of the policemen drive her away, the tired-but-enthusiastic cheers of his teammates nothing more than background noise; static.

Vaguely, he realized that his heart wasn't quite whole - he'd given a piece of it to someone whom he had thought would link theirs together in harmony, the melody to his chorus; what he'd been searching for ever since he'd woken up screaming in a 'boarding school' that seemed more like a prison.

She'd taken more than what he'd given - draining the light from his entire being as if she was the Overlord, stealing his golden power without a shred of remorse.

That failure was practically painless, compared to her-

An almost unfamiliar emotion slowly stated to replace the ache in his chest that he'd grown used to for all those years; it'd become comforting, even. Watching the world go by with a heart that seemed more like a curse, he briefly, fleetingly, wondered if he'd be better off without one.

If there was ever a problem that presented itself to Nya while she worked on the Bounty, she used to joke that it'd be easier to just dump their entire hard dive into the sea.

Destruction seemed to be easier than fixing, he conceded - the van now just a glimmer of bright light; one of the many that made up their vibrant city.

"How did you know?" he heard, yet again wondering how he felt so disconnected from his own role in the memory.

How had she known? 

The whisper of a voice long gone bled into his consciousness, his hands shaking at his sides even as the city celebrated.

Why had he even asked that?

Plastering a smile on his face as he walked over to his teammates, the question repeating itself in his mind, echoing into the blizzard.

FSM - she didn't need to be leader of a biker gang to know that.

Who could ever give their heart - the epitome of human connection; golden power all on its own, albeit of a different kind - to an Oni?

Maybe he wasn't the one trapped behind an invisible wall, built on tears and loneliness and yearning and heartache and a lone question - why? Why could no one seem to look past the cage he felt himself trapped in, observing the world rather than playing a part in it.

He hadn't been a- abandoned by everyone, he realized, a weary sense of clarity and shadowed eyes not sure to accept it or push it into the back of his mind like the hours he'd spent there, as if he'd ever want to have hurt his teammates like he did, the twisted ghost-

He trailed behind his teammates as they sang - horribly off key, his mind pointed out, forcing a small smile onto his face - lost in the figurative blizzard, despite the fact that the sun's rays had only vanished a few hours ago.

If no one would know his heart?

FSM - could he really blame them?

(if you read this far, thank you so much, you’ve made my day:D)

[bumbleklee]

Lone Star (diluc x f!reader) - SFW

before reading: this is based on the song lone star by the front bottoms and deals with pregnancy, abortion and general angst (there’s a lot of crying). please read with discretion and remember you always have a choice. story is under cut for length and the topics discussed 

You were going to tell Diluc. As soon as he woke up, you were going to tell him.

But Diluc woke up in such a sweet mood, stretching his arm out around your waist and pulling you back underneath the blankets. He whispered how much he loved you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

And then when you both had gotten out of bed, Diluc was actually excited about going to the bar that night to work. Absentmindedly talking about how Kaeya was away for the weekend on a commission. His hands never seemed to leave you, leaving loving touches on your shoulders or casually holding your hand.

You decided you were going to tell him the next day. Then Jean asked him to stop by the Knights Headquarters and when he returned back to your house, he was scowling. The next day, you swore.

But the next day turned into the next day turned into the next week. You were jittery and found it difficult to be around Diluc for more than five minutes without spilling your secret (except none of those times were the right time).

And as if the Gods had their own plan, you come home one evening to find Diluc sitting at the kitchen table. He was staring down at his lap and when you neared him, you saw the small pregnancy detector between his hands. You knew you should have hid it better.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Goodbye future, once so bright, meet my pregnant girlfriend Watch my bank account run dry, 437 dollars spent To put things back to the way they used to be

When you found out you were pregnant, you were mortified. You and Diluc had only been together for two years and you weren’t even married yet. Plus, you were both young - way too young to become parents.

You liked children. You really did. But being a mother wasn’t something in your line of sight, at least not anytime soon. Hell, you and Diluc never even had a serious talk about having children together one day and you weren’t even sure if he wanted any ever.

But you promised to yourself you wouldn’t let his opinions sway yours. You just needed to tell Diluc, ask him for some mora, and fix everything.

You contemplated not telling Diluc at all. You could just go ahead with the procedure alone, wipe your hands clean, and pretend like nothing happened. But Jean talked you out of this almost immediately.

“He needs to know,” She told you sternly, “He deserves to know before you do anything.”

Part of you regretted telling Jean in the first place. She was supportive of whatever decision you wanted to choose but her advice still made your stomach churn. But she was right and deep down you knew that. Plus, abortions weren’t preformed in Mondstadt and you would have to take a weekend trip to Fontaine and the carriage ride alone would wipe your bank account clean.

It wasn’t possible not to tell Diluc - so why was it so hard?

You were glad Diluc found the test on his own because you weren’t sure when you were ever going to tell him.

“It’s...I was planning to tell you…” You start, your words catching in your throat. Diluc looked up at you sharply, his eyes narrow and filled with an emotion you didn’t recognize.

“When?” He demanded, “Because you hiding this in the sole of your winter boot doesn’t seem like you were planning to tell me anytime soon.”

You placed both hands on your forehead, your gaze falling to the floor. Your chest felt heavy and fluttery at the same time, “I was...I don’t think I…” You couldn’t find the right words. Your stuttering filled with cheeks with heat and you felt sweat bead on your forehead. You weren’t ready for this kind of decision.

“What was your plan?” Diluc asked, his tone softer presumably at your anxious state. Neither of you dared to move but your eyes finally started to fill with tears. “Please, Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Hold on!” You snapped, your hands quickly scrubbing over your eyes. You refused to look at Diluc, too ashamed that you couldn’t even answer his questions. Diluc sighed and you heard the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor and two sturdy arms wrapped around your quivering form. When your breathing finally regulated, Diluc led you to the table and you two sat across from each other - the test in the middle.

You took a deep breath and when Diluc delicately took your hand, you started speaking.

“It’s been a few weeks,” You said, “I kept getting sick as soon as I’d get to the Headquarters in the morning and Jean took me to the cathedral just to see if I had a stomach bug and I guess based on my symptoms, they suggested I try a detector. And I wasn’t expecting it to be positive, Diluc, I swear. I was ready for it to be a fluke and Jean and I were going to have a laugh but it was positive and...I’m pregnant.”

Diluc gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I know what I want to do but I needed to tell you about it first.”

“You...want to get rid of it, right?”

You had been set on an abortion since you first saw the positive test but hearing Diluc mumble those words caused your walls to break again. Your head hung down, tears falling down your face like a waterfall. Diluc reached over to brush your cheeks and you instinctively leaned into his touch, “I’m awful.”

“No you aren’t,” Diluc said softly. His voice was timid and you felt so, so guilty. “This is your decision and no matter what you want to do, I’m going to support you.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” You sobbed, “I’m going to get an abortion for our child! Why aren’t you angry with me?”

“I’m just upset you didn’t tell me sooner,” Diluc said, “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Your lips trembled and for the third time that hour, you burst into tears. Diluc stood up from his chair again and shifted your body so you were sitting on his lap. You rested your forehead on his shoulder and Diluc’s warm hands wrapped around you.

“Just rest,” He told you and you felt your eyes growing tired, “I love you.”

“I love you,” You mumbled, “And I’m sorry.”

When you woke up, you were nestled in your bed and Diluc was beside you packing a suitcase. For a moment, you just watched him fold your shirts gently and place them inside the bag.

He noticed your open eyes and leaned down to brush a piece of hair back, “We’re leaving at noon.”

Still, I woulda spent so much more But 437 dollars somehow shakes all responsibility But it's not easy

The carriage ride was silent. You mostly stared out the window but occasionally glanced at Diluc. He seemed remarkably calm, holding your hand and brushing his thumb over your forefingers, but you could tell he was just as nervous as you were.

“Should we talk about it?” You asked, your voice hardly a whisper. There was no one in the carriage with you, the coachman outside of earshot, but your words still felt too secretive. The only person who knew what you two were doing was Jean - everyone else assumed Diluc had a business inquiry in Fontaine.

Diluc nodded.

“I wish it didn’t come to this,” You said, “We should have been more careful.”

“Yeah.”

You chewed on your lip, returning to look out the window, “I think...one day I want kids.”

“Me too.”

“But we’re too young,” You spoke for both of you now, “I mean, I’m so busy with the Knights and the wine industry is doing so well. And I want to travel Teyvat! We can’t do that with kids.” Diluc silently agrees with you.

The procedure is painless, quick and very expensive. Your eyes widen at the number that comes out of the nurse’s mouth but Diluc hands over a bag of mora with no emotion, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and walking away from the clinic.

Just like that, everything was fixed. You were no longer pregnant and Diluc was no longer going to be a father. So why were you two filled with an overwhelming amount of guilt?

You find a bench to sit on in front of a river that runs through the city and for a while, it’s quiet again. The past twenty-four hours had been filled with bursts of unbearable silence but what was there to talk about? You lean over your knees and stare at your reflection in the water, wondering if you still recognized the woman you saw.

“I’ll pay you back,” You tell Diluc suddenly.

Diluc doesn’t say anything until you sit back up, “Y/N, I would have spent seven times that amount for you - I would have sold the winery for you.”

His sweet words bring you back to reality and you hide your face in his chest. You knew what you did was the right decision, the right choice. If you chose to bring a baby into this world now, you would be constantly reminded that you didn’t want it. You don’t for a second think you would have neglected or not loved said child, but you couldn’t possibly give it your whole heart like you could if you both just waited a few more years.

You had to keep reminding yourself that you did what you needed to do. It was hard, but it was right.

She looks me dead in the eyes and says "hey Brian If you still believe in the Lord above Get on your hands and knees and pray for us

That night in your hotel room, you and Diluc pray to Barbartos. Neither of you were particularly religious, especially after learning Venti’s secret, but you thought maybe the archon would hear your pleas and do his best as your friend.

You and Diluc held your visions clasped between your hands and knelt below the window, gazing up at the starry sky. Your eyes were shut tightly.

“Lord Barbatos, please grant us ease to get through this hard time,” You whispered, “We really need it.”

“Please give Y/N good health and help us fulfil our dreams,” Diluc said. When he heard soft sniffles coming from you, Diluc added, “I’ll give you a free bottle of wine.” He nudged your side and your eyes opened, causing a tiny smile to appear on your face and you to chuckle sadly through your tears.

The past few months were pretty rough A couple times, wished we both were dead I never cried like that before I thought my eyes would pop out of my head Not just preparing for nightmares

Returning to Mondstadt was difficult. You surprised Jean in her office and, once again, broke down in her arms. She told you it was okay to stay home for a while, that she and Kaeya would tend to your commissions.

With no work to attend to, you fell into a deep depression. The nurses in Fontaine said this may happen as an emotional side-effect and they were right. You rarely got out of bed except to use the bathroom and Diluc had to beg you to eat something everyday. Diluc was having a tough time too but knew he needed to be strong for you. If the both of you fell into this ditch, how were you going to get out?

You didn’t understand your emotions right now. You had fixed the problem, shaken all responsibility from your back, yet you were crumbling like a piece of paper. You were exhausted all the time, not being able to sleep due to consistent nightmares, and you didn’t have the energy to do anything.

One night, Diluc left to work at the bar and when he returned, you were still awake. For once, you had gotten out of bed and moved to the couch. Of course, you were curled up lifelessly but it was a start.

You turned to look at the front door as it opened and inside stepped a very upset-looking Diluc. Your eyes stung at the look on his face and he strided over to you quickly, nearly collapsing on top of you on the couch. His arms hugged your waist and his head found its way to the crook of your neck.

For the first time, you saw Diluc completely break. Tears rolled down his cheeks in fat tears and choked sobs echoed through the walls of your home. His grasp on you was shaky and tight and you could only hold onto him.

“I’m sorry,” He sobbed, the words hardly understandable. He kept repeating the apology.

“We need to stop apologizing to each other,” You mumbled out, holding back your own cries. Your heart was breaking at the sight of Diluc and you pressed your hands to either side of his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. His eyes were already bloodshot and you wondered if he was crying on the way home from the bar.

Diluc only nodded against your skin. You let him cry, just being there for him like he was for you so many times before was enough. You would be okay in time.

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog​’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious.  Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

[sergeant-spoons]

Hi , I saw your song-inspired post, they are all really great! Would you write no secrets with liebgott please. Thank you!

Sure thing, Anon! 💕

No Secrets

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Female OC

Word count: 2286

Tone: Fluff and angst and everything in between; mention of pregnancy; developing romantic relationship

Summary: For as long as they’ve known each other, they’ve held to one vow between them and them alone: no secrets. When their relationship turns into one they were not expecting (yet happily welcome), this promise serves them ever the better.

Song inspiration: “No Secrets” by The Shires

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @thoughpoppiesblow @victoryrollsandredlips @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @mgdln97 @josephtoye @tina1938 @drinkwhiskeyandsmile @ask-you-what-sir @indecisiveimpatience @whovian45810​ @brokennerdalert​

Joseph D. Liebgott.

Amelia M. Battle.

Best friends throughout all their childhood. When the war started, he enlisted promptly, and she was quick to do the same. They parted ways for the first time in many, many years that August of '42, he to Toccoa, Georgia for paratrooper training and she further north in Cali to train as a nurse. Just once in the next four years did they cross paths, in a place most called Bastogne but Joe and Amelia dubbed Ice Hell. Not the most creative, sure, but hard to think of anything else when, as they put it, "your nuts and tits are so frozen they're about to fall right off".

Then one day, Joe was laying on the grass, four years to the very day he'd enlisted in the Airborne. The August air here in Austria was fresh and clean and his mind strayed to Amelia, wondering how she'd have liked it. She was always complaining about the city smog, back home. He chuckled to himself, but his mirth was cut short when he could have sworn he saw her face form for an instant in the clouds overhead. His heart gave a leap. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but that was the very moment he realized he needed, not just wanted, her back in his life.

Who you’re with, where you’ve been- That’s not us, never has been. Got no secrets, no.

Growing up, the pair were thick as thieves, so much so they soon became "Lieb-and-Battle", as if they were one and the same. They didn't mind. It made sense to shorten and/or combine their names if it meant they could get quicker permission from their parents to go ride down the steep street in a wagon, go swimming in the river although it was high tide, chase the trolley up and down the stone-riddled hills of the city (most of their ideas were remarkably dangerous, in hindsight).

Secrets? Pah. They made a pact when they were nine years old- well, Amelia was nine and Joe was two days away from turning the same age -that they'd always tell each other the truth. This vow led to some fights, plenty of guilt, and a good deal of teasing, but it also provided them the strongest friendship in the whole of California, maybe even the western seaboard. Their parents thought it was a miracle, that they stayed friends no matter what, and every time some adult shook their head and mused as such, Joe would share a smile with Amelia.

"You can tell me anything," he used to say when he saw her fidgeting with a loose thread or unable to focus on her geometry homework, and she'd let him know what was troubling her- a boy, a girl, a grade, the weather, a family pet's passing. Anything at all. He would listen, patient as a stone in a riverbed, letting her words wash over him until she was done. She always felt better after she'd rambled to him a bit. His mother thought Amelia was an angel, the only person who could get her son to sit still and/or shut up for more than five minutes at a time.

As Joe grew older, he started to have the same opinion, but for a markedly different reason.

"No judgment, just listening." The night he snuck through her bedroom window to tell her one of his pals was hit by a bus while they were out drinking, he felt like the worst friend anybody could ever have. She let him lay his head in her lap and she played with his hair, calming him, as he rambled out the story. Glad to hear the boy would be alright, though he'd need a long stay at the hospital to ensure it, Amelia had leaned over and kissed his forehead. She didn't tell him he was a fool, didn't say anything against the stupidity of his underage drinking, didn't even venture into the realm of 'it was your idea to drink so the accident was your fault'.

She was kind and forgiving and said just what he needed to hear, that night.

That evening was when Joe realized there was something more to him and her than mere friendship.

Got no secrets, no.

The day he enlisted, they had a breakfast date. Well, not a 'date', but an agreement to meet at their favorite local diner. The instant his trousers met the red booth seat, she told him to just tell her already. So he did, and she was silent for a moment, then, to his surprise, she laughed.

"I guess great minds do think alike." She laid her hand over his across the table. "I joined up with the ANC last night. I was gonna call you, but I thought it was better to tell you in person."

He smiled, just a little sadly, and when she squeezed his hand, he knew she saw it in his eyes, everything he was feeling, all at once.

"Well, then." Amelia leaned back in her seat and glanced at the ceiling fan turning lazy circles over the booth just behind Joe's head. "What're you gonna order?"

He chuckled, not bothering to reach for a menu. "You know I always get the same thing."

She shrugged, a smile creeping back onto her lips, reassuring him better than any words could. "I know."

You can put your hand on my heart, I’ll swear to you honestly: Nothing but the truth is all that you’ll get from me.

When Joe stepped off the train and was met immediately by a stocky little body wrapping him in the biggest, brightest hug he could imagine, he knew just what he had to do. So he followed his heart, and as their families began to cheer, he closed his eyes as she flung her arms around his neck. God, he'd waited so long to kiss her. He kept hold of the moment as long as he could, until even the more patient of their relatives started muttering for them to break it up and get a room. When she opened her eyes again, he was already staring at her with a smile wider than any he'd shown during the entirety of the war.

"I think I love you," he said, as matter-of-fact as anything, and she nodded right back.

"Yeah, I think I feel the same."

"Good-" He kissed her forehead, slipping her hand into his grasp. "-'cause I've been meanin' to make you mine for a long, long time."

"Then I'm yours," she agreed, and the matter was settled as simply as 1-2-3.

Some tiptoe 'round the conversation- That’s not us, we just say it. You make it easy, easy to say the hardest words.

Once:

"I'm having a tough week, so if you could be a little extra patient with me these next few days, I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course."

He wrapped her in a hug, breathing her in: citrusy shampoo, body wash that smelled like purity itself, that faint aroma of coffee that seemed to linger with her no matter the time of the day.

"Thank you, baby."

Another time:

"When you leave the sink spigot half-open and it drips, I gotta say, it bothers me."

Amelia reached over his shoulder to fix that very issue, pecking his cheek as she leaned back. "I'll do better."

"Thanks."

A different day:

"Baby?"

"Yeah?"

Amelia stood in the doorway of the kitchen, rocking back and forth on her feet. She was agitated, and Joe was quick to rise and greet her. When he reached for a hug, she stepped back, flushed. He tilted his head- whatever she had on her mind was clearly weighing on her.

"Hey, Ames," he soothed her, "you can tell me anything."

"I know..." She took a deep breath. "I had a pregnancy scare this morning."

He cupped her chin in his hands. "Are you okay? What can I do?"

Her eyes watered and though she leaned into his embrace, her body was still stiff and tense. "I'm- I'm okay. I know we haven't talked about kids, and I- I do want them, one day, but not now-"

"Yeah, me too." Joe kissed the top of her head, running his hand in a soothing motion down the back of her hair. "When we're both ready for 'em. Okay, baby?"

"Yeah." Amelia nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. "Exactly that." A beat. "Thank you, Joe. You always know just what to say."

"Oh, I dunno 'bout that-" He smiled into her hair. "-but really, Ames, I love you. I hope you know that."

"I do." She pressed a kiss to his chest through his shirt. "And I love you, too."

You can put your hand on my heart, I’ll swear to you honestly: Nothing but the truth is all that you’ll ever gonna get from me.

"Joe?"

He looked up from the Funnies page of the Sunday paper, tossing it aside on the kitchen counter. Amelia looked frightened and apologetic and uncertain all at once, and he leaned back in his chair. He'd been expecting this discussion all morning.

"I- I know I got drunk last night," she admitted, wringing her hands in front of her, "and I flirted with some guy. I can't remember who but he looked like you? And then I asked him if he was single and he said no and I remember crying because I liked him a lot and- oh, Joe-" She turned away, tears bubbling to the edges of her vision, only to find her boyfriend's arms wrapped firmly around her.

"Wh-"

"Hey, no worries- it was me you flirted with, sweetie." He pecked a kiss on the tip of her nose and she seemed to slump forward in his arms, terribly relieved. "I gotta say, it was hella cute when you started crying when I said I was in the best relationship I've ever had."

Amelia blushed, a smile flickering onto her face.

"I'm glad," Joe went on, "that you came to let me know right away."

She gasped. "Of course! 'Sides, you were at the bar with me- but that wouldn't make a difference, y'know. What kind o' girlfriend would I be if I didn't tell ya?"

"Not mine," he chuckled. "She's too smart and sweet and loyal to think otherwise."

"Well, I'm glad that's how that ended." She drew him into a kiss that, as always, left him craving another. "Breakfast?"

He kissed her nose again.

"Breakfast."

Yeah, we fight when we’re tired, baby, you and I.

Amelia lived up to her surname: every time she and Joe fought (a big one, over something important) it was a real battle. Armed to the teeth with jibes and angry blaming, these hearty fights could last for some time, persisting until they'd worn themselves out. Thankfully, they were also few and far between, as rare as Los Angeles rainfall. The sole exemptions from their arguments were, to each's endless relief, scathing remarks about each other and physical blows. Not once had they called each other a nasty name, even in the most heated of arguments, save for affectionate teasing when they were both in good spirits (such as "Gimme my hairbrush back, asshole"). The same went for bodily injury- neither would ever, ever lay a hand on the other, no matter how mad. Never.

We ain’t perfect, we work at it, day and night.

Once the yelling was done, and they'd taken their deep breaths, inching closer and closer to each other, they would fall into a tight hug and didn't let go for a long, long while. She would kiss the scruff on his jaw, he would brush his lips across the top of her head; as they breathed together, they began to see the other's point of view. Then they'd talk about it, always for longer than the initial fight, and come to a mutual compromise or understanding. Amelia said once that she wished she could skip that stage, with all the yelling, and Joe promised they'd grow out of it.

He was right: they did. Sooner than either expected, even.

We can hurt, but it works, baby, you and I Never lie, our only secret is we got no secrets.

One night, Joe packed a few things in the back of his truck and surprised Amelia by driving her up to the highest ridge in the Bay Area. He told her, as he let the engine peter out with a stutter, that he'd heard about a meteor shower on the radio yesterday, supposed to happen tonight. Amelia, who loved to stargaze anytime, anywhere, was thrilled with his surprise and eagerly helped him to lay out the pillows and blankets he'd brought in the flat of his truck. Curling up against him, she peppered his cheeks and chin with kisses until he reminded her to watch the sky so she would not miss the spectacle. She did so- adorably reluctantly -and Joe took a moment to ignore his own suggestion, staring at Amelia instead.

"You know why we work so well, baby?"

She smiled and leaned into his chest, pulling the blanket further over their bodies. They both knew the answer, he just liked to hear her say it.

"'Cause we got no secrets."

"That's right." 

He kissed the top of her head, and she snuggled up closer to him. Oh, how he loved the way she fit into every nook and cranny of his body like a puzzle piece that belonged right there.

"Our only secret," he whispered as the first of the meteors flashed across the indigo atmosphere, "is that we got no secrets."