#~Broken but Refuses to Quit JAS~

[herminapons]

Please ignore that or don't. I accidentally added poll instead of a read more line. Don't know how to remove it. *cries*

Sharing My Interpretation of Stardew Valley Shane's Life and Personality:

He had a rough childhood. His parents are divorced and as a child, Shane moves from one parent's house to another. Until each of his parents have their own families, Shane was eventually neglected.

Marnie and other relatives adopted him.

Due to constantly moving places, Shane haven't made any friends.

He spent most of his childhood watching Gridball, playing videogames, and/or being on the Internet.

In middle school, he met these two childhood sweethearts (Jas' parents) who eventually became his best friends.

Shane is the weird, quiet kid who always looks out the window and is mostly invisible to others kids.

But with his 2 friends? Shane is just like any other kid. He loves playing games, playing with toys, and laughs at butt jokes.

Shane changed a lot in high school. He became a popular kid being a varsity player in Gridball.

Think of any teenager-trouble you can think of, Shane has probably done it.

Shane is still a weird kid despite all that, it especially shines through when he's with his two friends.

He works part time while studying. He was dedicated to save up for college.

Shane had a promising future. He got good grades all while being a varsity player (and a troublesome teenager lol)

Shane was supposed to go to college when he got in an accident which left him with a broken ankle.

All the money he saved up went to hospital bills and therapy.

Marnie insisted that Shane move to Pelican Town for a while in order to heal. This is the time he started getting into farm life and fell in love with taking care of chickens.

After 2 years, Shane moved back to the city and have a fresh start.

He began working again and his jobs were mostly retail customer service.

Shane tried to continue studying. But it was either he was rejected or he was short on money to proceed with enrollment.

Due to co-workers' influence, Shane started drinking after shifts.

He was the wingman to his best friends' relationship.

Shane found a girlfriend during this time, it was a serious relationship. This inspired him to really change the course of his life. He cut back on drinking and started saving up again.

Shane was overjoyed when his friends announced their pregnancy. He made sure to always be there whenever his friends need him.

Because of this his friends call him papa Shane (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Jas' name was an acronym of the trio's names. ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ (My HC their names are Jessie, Anton, Shane)

Secretly, Shane is jealous of his friends' happy little family. He always wondered how it must feel like to have a family, given that he doesn't have one eversince.

Living the fast-paced city life made Shane miss Pelican Town and realize that living in a farm is his true calling.

This sparked a lot of arguments between him and his gf. She wanted to grind her life for money, but Shane wanted to just live life.

They eventually broke up. This hurt him so much that he began drinking heavily every night to cope with the pain.

Then the accident happened. His friends died at the scene, leaving a poor baby Jas orphaned.

Shane was babysitting Jas when he heard the news.

Devastated, Shane drowned himself in alcohol. Saying he was a mess is an understatement. He had to quit his job to take care of Jas, and he was using up all of his savings for her and in beer.

When Marnie heard of the news, she took charge and arranged everything. She adopted Jas (since Shane is not suitable to be her legal guardian) and have her and Shane move back to her ranch in Pelican Town.

Shane shut himself off from the world. He refused to leave his room, he even refused to see/look at Jas. He hated looking at her because she reminds him of his late friends and the trauma of their passing.

His alcohol consumption turned into addiction. Shane cannot calm down until he's intoxicated. If he's sober, he spends the rest of his time crying and hating himself.

His turning point was when Marnie was out late due to a storm. Shane heard Jas' cries from the other room, he had to force himself up and attend to her.

Shane saw his goddaughter for the first time in months. She's no longer a beany baby, Jas can now stand up on her own and walk a few steps. When Marnie came home, Shane saw that his aunt was not getting any younger. Lines are starting to form on her face.

This made Shane realize that time passes and everything changes, except him.

Shane started forcing himself to be there for his "ragtag bunch" family.

He moved to the city for a better job but it didn't worked out for long.

He moved back to Pelican Town when he heard that there's a "promising job" waiting. Lol Joja

Shane always beats himself up. He's always thinking about the "what ifs" and contemplating if life is still worth it.

Shane became reclusive and antisocial even to the ones close to him.

His life this time was a constant wake up, eat, self-hate, work, drink, more self-hate, sleep.

Despite all this, Marnie didn't stop looking after Shane. She never fail to remind him that he is loved and there are people that care for him.

Slowly, Shane got "better" at handling his trauma and pain.

Shane started spending time with Jas. He no longer hated seeing her face, instead he hates himself for not being there when she needed him the most.

He picked up hobbies he liked back then. He plays videogames again. He watches Gridball games again. He helps with taking care of the chickens again.

He recently got a pet chicken, he named it Charlie. Charlie the therapist.

He began warming up to the other villagers, too.

He found himself being friends with Emily. Shane felt safe dropping his guard down around her and let his weird side shine through.

Then there's Harvey and Elliott. Shane didn't know when and how it happened, but the three of them always end up in awkward situations. Due to the constant exposure to one another, a brotherhood was formed.

Even though he puts up a "mean" façade, on the inside Shane is still that weird, goofy kid who only wants to be loved.

Shane may not admit it, but in Pelican Town, he felt loved that he had never felt before.

Recently, Shane picked up a new hobby. Breeding chickens. He had always find chickens fascinating, and when Shane hatched his first blue chicken, he cannot contain his excitement.

Yet, Shane is still struggling. It's hard for him to open up to new people. Most of time he only forces himself to get up and function. There are times that he feels good and then days later emotions hit him like a truck. Shane hates himself and how much of a failure he is. He became dependent on alcohol to comfort himself.

Lately he starts accepting his situation, thinking that his fate is sealed. He accepts that his life is nothing but a pathetic joke and there is nothing left for him... Until a new farmer moves in town.

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

This is a oneshot I refused to proofread so apologies for any errors. I was trying to write a fanfic but I don't knoooow how to tell stories. Bulleted list then! I could've put SDV Shane HC but lengthy titles look cooler ರ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ರ

[lele-crystals]

Naughty, Naughty

Pairing: Jason Grace x F Reader

Warning: Smut..Unprotected Sex..Getting Caught...Jealousy...Spanking..Public sex....Woods

Jason's jealous gets in the way of Y/N relationship with her BFF and quickly punished for actions.

------------

Each day was something different...But of course, Thursdays was jealousy. The day began with a rocky start.

You laid down the field of grass, helping out the Demeter kids' grow some plants. Shoveling the dirt, (Best Friend) passes you along the seeds for the next herbs.

Of course, they tried to keep up with humor, but it was too fast. It was quite entertaining as they tried to enlighten you with jokes. "What did the Mustard say to the Ketchup?" They smirked.

Sighing, you looked up, trying not to smile "What did the Mustard possibly say!"

"You need to KETCH-up!"

Rolling your eyes, you laughed at the poor-thought-out joke, "Come on (BFF's Name), Enlighten me with another!" Giggling at their ear-to-ear smile.

"Why sure thing, my dear" they said in a British accent.

Little did you both know, a broken-hearted boy watched from a distance....

---

Jason huffed, folding his arms eyeing you and (BFF). Both of you giggling and having such a gay old time.

You laughed cheekily and punched their shoulder lightly as (Y/N's BFF) gave you one of their famous smiles as a friendly gesture.

Both you and Jason's eyes met before he stormed off. Your head tilting in confusion, you said your goodbyes to your friend as you promised to come back soon.

Hurriedly, you followed Jason shouting his name, "Hey- Jas, Jason! Wait up!!"

You kept calling his name until you finally caught up with him. "Hey, are you ok?" Placing a hand on his cold shoulder, he rejected it, turning around.

He scoffed, "Go hang out with (Friend's Name), you guys seem really close lately."

Your brows rose, quickly, shaking you head and resting a hand on his arm, "Someone seems quite jelly, don't you think so too, Jas?"

His cheeks turned rosy blossom red, trying to hide his emotions, "Jealous? Me? What made you think that?"

You smirked, "Let's try this again..." In a low voice, you stepped on your tippy toes, heading for Jason's ear, "I said...Jason Grace, are you jealous?"

Your hands gliding up his arm, His hands wrapped around your waist, "Who said I had to respond?"

And within minutes, you were pinned onto the grounds in a familiar place. He kissed you. Longing for his sweet taste, you couldn't help but kiss back.

---

Jason is quick to remove each part of clothing. Everything tossed or torn. He thrusts roughly in and out, his hips pounding in your own, refusing to let you cum. Letting out grunts and groans, his fist clenching, "Now who do you belong to?" He questioned.

Moaning silently as the feeling of pleasure, nothing comes but a couple of incomprehensible words.

"Don't make me repeat myself-"

"You, Jas... I belong to you, every inch." You moaned.

Rushing satisfaction overwhelms Jason as his thrust become quicker and rougher. So needy for him, he loved you and you belonged to him. Seeing you in such a needy state, made him love you more.

"Fuck.."

He gave you the gesture of a cocky smile, he knew you loved him too. That was all that he needed to let you cum.

----

Thank you for reading this story! Sorry if it's not up to standards or doesn't seem like Jason. I hope some of you did enjoy! So ty for reading!!

[soulsxng--a]

To say that Jaspern was confused when he opened his eyes again would have been an understatement. One moment, his powers had been coming back to him in one final rush, and then...

And then he’d blinked, and he was here. On the balcony of Ahnia’s palace, with his children beside him. Rourke, Phelan, and Nielis behind him. A near sea of people standing in the courtyard below, looking around in equal confusion and panic. Many of those whose eyes he met belonging to Ahniri that, by all means, should have been long since dead. A few others belonging to beings of other species, but whose souls, Jaspern recognized.

Reincarnations of former Ahniri, it looked like?

What...what was all this?

Above him, Innaius began to burst with light brighter than he’d ever seen before...and yet, it somehow didn’t hurt his eyes in the slightest. It only felt...warm, and protective.

At once, everything settled. Everything grew soft. It seemed as though as one, everybody in attendance knew exactly what they were there for.

“People of Ahnia, hear me. I am your King; Rarik Laistrya Vir si Ahnia. But today, I speak to you from a role much more humble-- as the voice of Our Pillar, Innaius. As I address each of you now, a succession draws to a close. Innaius is meeting the ending of an era...as well as the beginning of a new one. A stronger one.”

Rarik turns his head to either side, meeting the gazes of each of his four children. Falling last to Jai, the heir apparent, who gave his father a small, encouraging nod. A smile came to pale lips, and he looked over his people once more.

“In the coming days, Ahnia will be closed off...and as such, we will all need to remain here. Innaius will be weak, and will need each and every one of us to aid him while he regains his strength once more. Strength that, long ago, was given readily to us in return for nothing more than our faith. Strength that, today, was released to allow us to be here now.”

“He needs us...and in my soul, I know that he can rely on us. And so, starting tonight, let us band together once more to rebuild our home. To fill it once more with light...that it may guide those souls in need to the rest that they deserve. That it may bring our offerings to Innaius...not only to restore what once was, but to grow, and evolve to something even greater than before.”

[ratisnotcrying]

you’re useless

Summary: “Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Juno hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t even really believe it. Maybe he would have, when he was still a PI, before he had first met Peter, but he had changed so much since then. He still had bad days, but he handled them better now. He knew when he was in the wrong.

Prompt: "You're useless." from palettes-and-prompts

Pairings: background Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, background Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay

Warnings: implied child abuse, descriptions of violence, hidden injury, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: this is crossposted on ao3 - ik that repeticism isnt a word but im making it one for this fic 

~~~

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Juno hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t even really believe it. Maybe he would have, when he was still a PI, before he had first met Peter, but he had changed so much since then. He still had bad days, but he handled them better now. He knew when he was in the wrong.

~~~

Rowan isn’t quite sure how they found themself on board the Carte Blanche and on the outskirts of the Aurinko crime family.

They had the typical, cliché backstory of a lone-wolf operating within the underbelly of society - a surface-perfect home life destroyed by something seemingly mundane blah blah blah, trust issues, a long line of enemies, enough friends to count on one hand, and nothing much else to show for over two decades of living.

One good thing about working alone is the need to get creative, and this is what had put them on Buddy’s radar in the first place. A few years ago, Rowan had been hired to acquire a tank of rare fish - this is about where they stopped asking questions, they didn't care as long as they got paid - and, after some very elaborate lies, an even more elaborate disguise and a rigged game of cards, they had managed to win a tank of the ugliest fish they had ever seen.

The part that caught Buddy’s attention, though, was the escape. Rowan had been found out before they had a chance to get out of the building, and had only managed to escape because they had memorised the security’s routes. It took a bit of guesswork, but they had been able to work out where the security would be coming from, found an unguarded window, clambered down a drain pipe, fish tank sloshing precariously in their bag, and landed near perfectly in a pile of rubbish bags outside the window - if you discount the broken bottle that had gouged their leg.

Buddy had picked Rowan up a few weeks after Juno and Rita, but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, no matter how much anyone may have wanted it to be.

The problem wasn’t that Rowan couldn’t do their job - if that were the case they wouldn’t be here. No, the problem was that being thrown into close quarters with a bunch of strangers was… a lot. Especially for someone who had been alone for so long.

Rowan liked Jet well enough, he was straightforward and honest but intense; Buddy’s ‘take no shit but do no harm’ attitude aligned perfectly with her unwavering morals, and this was a welcome relief from the lies and deceit Rowan had lived with for so long. Rita and Peter were surprisingly welcoming, and Rowan formed a reluctant almost-friendship with Vespa. Juno, though. He and Rowan were too alike: fiercely independent, stubborn as a mule, and they both fell back into old habits as easily as anything.

Maybe this clash of bad habits, the deceptive comfort in being who you were, even for a moment, is how this job went so spectacularly wrong.

~~~

It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out job. Rita had taken out the security cameras, Jet was waiting in the car, and Juno was sneaking down the darkened hallways with Rowan.

“I still don’t understand why we need this goddamn painting. It looks like a baby threw up crayons and then just threw up on a canvas.”

“I’ve just eaten, Juno, shush if you don’t want me to throw up too.”

“Rowan, darling, please do not do that - this painting is priceless and highly sought after, which is why, Juno, we need to swap this for the information August Reid is refusing to give us. I did mention this in our family meeting before you left.”

Vespa’s aggravated voice piped up in the background of Buddy’s comms, “He was too busy swooning all over Ransom to pay attention.”

~~~

They had gotten the painting easily, so it was just a matter of getting out again. Rowan had been tasked with studying the guards’ shift patterns and routes, and had had no problem getting them in. Apparently, their luck couldn't hold.

They crept forwards, leading Juno left, right, left again, ducking this way and that to avoid the, quite frankly excessive, number of guards patrolling the halls. And that’s when it happened.

Rowan ducked right around a corner into another corridor, one that was supposed to be empty for another six minutes at least and there, at the other end, was a guard. A guard who was looking right at them.

“Crap.”

“What? Rowan we need to kee- crap.”

Both of their comms beeped, Buddy asking them questions with thinly veiled panic in her voice, but neither of them answered, stood frozen, eyes locked with the guard. Then all hell broke loose.

Everyone took out their guns and bullets started flying, the guard was shouting and footsteps could be heard thundering closer from all directions.

A tidal wave of de ja vu crashed over Rowan, “Fuck, this way,” they shouted, turning to run, voice tinged with something Juno didn’t have time to decipher, but Juno grabbed their sleeve and dragged them in the opposite direction.

“Hell no. You are done giving directions, I am not letting you get me killed here.”

They ran back the way they had come, and Juno skidded to a stop in front of a storage cupboard.

“Get in, quickly. There’s a vent at the top we need to get through. Do you think you can manage that?”

Rowan wasn't sure - there was a searing pain in their side that sent shocks of nausea through them with each breath and black dots into their vision with each movement. But this was their fault - they had failed at the one job they had - the one thing they were supposed to be able to do, they got themself shot and had put Juno in danger. They did not need to hold the job up any longer - they just had to get out of here and they could deal with the shot later.

It was a tight squeeze, both of them were crammed awkwardly into the vents, waiting for Rita to work out where they were so she could guide them out.

“Christ, it’s cramped in here - my side is killing me.” Rowan muttered to themself.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Everything seemed to shift and sharpen, Rowan suddenly violently aware of everything around them whilst simultaneously being blurred by memories they had tried so hard to bury: Juno was trying to listen and see if they had been found, there was shouting from down the hall, the smell of musty metal was almost overwhelming and Rowan jerked as if physically struck by Juno’s words, completely at a loss for what to say. Luckily, Rita, who had been on the comms, was not quite as speechless.

“Mistah Steel! That is a horrible thing to say, how could you-”

“Goddamnit Rita, I don't have time for this - how they hell do we get out of here?”

~~~

Jet was still outside with the car, and took off at break-neck speed as soon as the doors were shut. Juno sat in the front seat, the painting on his lap, talking to Buddy about something, and Rowan was slouched in the back, trying to cover up the fact that their organs were about to fall out. Well, that was an exaggeration. Probably. Just to be safe they grabbed a jacket they had left in the car weeks ago and slipped it on, wrapping it tightly around themself to try and hide the blood and hopefully-not-organs.

Juno had gotten a bit banged up in the vents, so when they arrived back at the Carte Blanche he went straight to the medical bay to meet Buddy with the painting and then to get checked.

“Rowan, it is recommended that you also get checked out. You look very ill,” Jet said as Rowan turned away from the medical bay and towards their room.

“No worries, Jet, I just want to get changed first - these clothes are filthy.”

~~~

“It was a mistake, darling, the best of us make them.”

“Yeah, well, it ws a stupid mistake - all they had to do was make sure they knew where the guards would be and then make sure we weren’t there!”

Vespa growled at Juno, who was gesticulating wildly whilst she was trying to wrap a bandage around his arm.

“Juno, I don’t care if Rowan walked straight up to that guard and told him why you were there - we are a family, and you will not speak to any member of this family like that.”

“That’s another thing - I get why everyone is here except Rowan - you said it was some daring escape that brought them here, but after today’s performance… what exactly do they bring to the table?”

“I’m going to leave that for you to work out, Juno.” Buddy said tersely.

He deflated a little, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Goddamnit.

“Are we about done here, Vespa, I’ve got places to be.”

~~~

Rowan would quite like a stiff drink right about now. Partially to actually drink, but mainly because they had run out of steriliser and this wound was definitely going to get infected and it would be this whole thing and they would get ill and-

“Get it together, Rowan.” They hissed, pulling out a sterile needle and taking a deep breath as they began to stitch themself up. This was not the first time, and likely wouldn’t be the last, that Rowan has had to do this - working alone and working recklessly meant most jobs ended with soft pink staining bandages and staining baths, throat and skin burning from cheap whiskey. Tonight didn’t have to be different.

The shot had skimmed their side so, luckily, no organs were falling out, but it was still going to be a bitch to heal, likely would be ripped open a few times and leave a nasty scar. This, unfortunately, was also not uncommon.

The painful repeticism of the needle going in and out lulled Rowan into a violent comfort they tried to avoid, the panicked calm soothing them until they couldn't quite hold back the memories they had been reminded of earlier.

Raised voices, gritted teeth and finger shaped bruises. Running, up stairs, through doors, arou-

There was a knock at their door. They flinched, snapping back to reality.

“Rowan, it’s Juno. Can I- can we talk?”

They almost said yes, just called Juno in like nothing was wrong. Then their brain kicked it’s way through the fog and realised they were sitting in bloody trousers, half stitched up wound and thread fully exposed to anyone who might walk in.

“Rowan?”

They picked up the shirt closest to them - part of a matching pyjama set - and tried to tuck the needle away so they could carry on when Juno was gone, and threw the door open.

“Sorry, I was just getting changed. Just sit anywhere.” They mumbled, haphazardly shoving piles of washing off of a chair.

“Thanks. Listen, about earlier, I know that you didn’t mean for that to happen. It’s been a rough week, not that that’s an excuse for what I said- are you alright?”

Rowan had half-sat, half-fallen back onto their seat on the bed and was focusing very hard on not fainting, so much so that they couldn’t really understand what Juno was saying. Maybe this wound was worse than they had thought. They nodded and hoped for the best.

“Right… Anyways, what I actually came to say is that I'm sorry I called you useless. You made a mistake, no one died, well I don’t think anyone died. Whatever, it couldn’t have been avoided. I know that I can be abrasive,” he said with a look that meant he had been told this many, many times before, “but that doesn’t mean that- Rowan, you really look like crap.”

“Wow, thanks, Juno, you say the sweetest things,” they took a deep breath and tried not to panic at the fact that they couldn’t really feel most of their torso anymore, “I know you didn’t mean it, we’re fine. Stop looking at me like that, I’m fine, I just need a nap.” The last words were pointed, hinting sharply at Juno to leave.

“Yeah, because slurred speech and sweating and shaking all scream ‘I’m fine’,” he paused for a moment and Rowan could almost see the cogs whirring, piecing together the information - bullets flying, the unidentified something in Rowan’s voice, the jacket they hadn’t been wearing before, the sterile wrappers on the bed… Then the last piece clicked into place, “Rowan, is that blood?”

They looked down at their top - their white pyjama top - as their vision began to fade out, their head too heavy to hold up and mouth too numb to speak, “No-”

~~~

When they came to, they were in the medical wing wearing a loose sleep shirt - distinctly not soaked in blood - and shorts. They tried to get up and go but a not-so-gentle hand pushed them back to lying down.

“Goddamnit, stop moving. You’ve already ripped your stitches once and you weren’t even awake,” Vespa growled, fussing with the bandages wrapped tight around Rowan’s middle.

“Sorry, I’ve always been lively in bed.”

“That’s cute, darling. What’s not cute is the stunt you pulled last night - if Juno hadn’t come to see you when he did... “ An uncomfortable look passed over Buddy’s face, “Let’s not dwell on that. I will want to talk about this later, but, for now, somebody else wants to see you.”

“Great,” Rowan tried to get up again, “Where are they?”

“Nice try, tough guy, but you’re staying right here until mean old Vespa lets you out.”

“Bite me, Steel.”

“No, thanks, I think I'll leave that to-” He cut himself off at Buddy's warning glance and didn't speak again until Buddy and Vespa had both left the room.

Rowan glanced at the bandage wrapped around Juno’s bicep, “Is it bad?”

“No, just a flesh wound, unlike that one you’re sporting - what was the plan? Stitch it up and hope you didn't drop dead in the middle of the next job?”

“Something like that.”

“Goddamnit. Okay, I don't know how much of what I said yesterday you heard but I'm sorry for what I said. I know we don't really… get along, but you remind me of,” he sighed, “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Juno, I really don't need a pep talk.”

“Well, here's the thing - you absolutely do because this,” he gestured to the bandages and the bed, “can’t happen again. You can't see that we care about you - you wouldn't be here if Buddy didn't think you were worth something and Rita is the best judge of character I know; she thinks you’re great. You have a goddamn family here, Rowan, stop trying to push us out.”

Rowan sighed, and Juno graciously didn't mention the tears in their eyes. “I don't know how to-” Rowan shook their head.

“We aren't going anywhere, Rowan, I know that's not what you want to hear but I don't care. For right now you need to stay here and stop ripping out your stitches. Take care of yourself for once. Then we can work on whatever complexes you’re holding onto so tight.” Juno said, squeezing Rowan’s shoulder as he stood.

Rowan didn’t say anything till he was half-way out the door, “Hey, Juno? Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

[fu-aki]

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize the newest chapter (chapter 4, part 3) of twisted wonderland.

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar in advance.

You woke up from another dream of Aladdin where Jafar got the magic lamp -> you were woken up by Jade -> you, Grim, Azul, and Jade headed towards Kalim’s room -> Jade prepared Kalim tea and offered to change Kalim’s clothes for him -> Kalim was really surprised and ask where Jamil is -> Jamil then walked in and shocked to see all of you there -> Azul explains that since Jamil was so busy so they thought they’ll at least help him by taking care of Kalim -> Kalim agreed to it so Jamil can take a break -> Jamil then headed to kitchen, planning to prepare for breakfast -> but Floyd has already started cooking with the Scarabia students -> later Azul changed the study plans so it is easier and more fun for the students and they are still studying for the same amount -> later, the students are having a chat talking about if it’s a useful study session like this, they’re honestly fine with staying in school like this -> Azul suggests to prepare some teas for everyone -> Jamil also went along to help Azul -> on their way, Azul talked about how students’ grade raised around 15% compares to 2 days ago, and since Kalim is also acting normally now, the students are slowly trusting him again -> Jamil mumbled “that would be troublesome for me” -> Jamil “sorry but I can’t let you stay in Scarabia, you have to go back” -> Azul “what’s wrong? Did I do anything..?” -> Jamil “do you really not understand this at all? Even when you are, looking at my sad expression?” -> Azul “Eh...?” ->

Jamil “—you looked into my eyes. Idiot.”

-> then Jamil casted his unique magic “snake whisper” onto Azul to mind control him -> then Jamil started his evil monologue talking all about his plan to use the students to chase Kalim out and pull Kalim down from the dorm leader position without dirty his own hand -> Jade suddenly showed up and informed Jamil that Azul was streaming the whole conversation online from his phone, by now it already got around 5k views -> Kalim and the Scarabia students are watching it too -> Azul also reveals that he wasn’t controlled at all, before this he signed a contract with Floyd so he can use Floyd’s unique magic to avoid Jamil’s mind control

Kalim also showed up -> “Ja...mil? What is... going on? The whole control me thing... is not true right? When I got dizzy and lost track of time, it was just caused by anemia right? I would fall asleep anywhere and you always got upset at me because of it too. Hey, isn’t that right? I was just sleeping right? There’s no way you would control me and throw me out right? Jamil, you are the only one... you are the only one who will never betray me right? That’s because we are, best friends right!?”

Jamil “......hahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!”

Kalim “h, hey... what’s going on?”

Jamil “......that was the reason why.”

Kalim “Eh....?”

Jamil “ever since I can remember, your carefreeness, your friendliness, and your stupidness, I’ve always.....”

Jamil “HATED IT.”

Jamil “you don’t even know my pains and only knows to laugh around!!!! Every time I see you laugh it seriously makes me want to vomit. I’m so sick and tired of it!!! There’s no meaning to fix it now. so I’ll tell you, I’ve wished for you to disappear every single day. But I will end everything today! Me, my family... whatever it is, I don’t care about it anymore!!”

-> Kalim tried to stop him but Jamil started to controlling every student in there -> Azul was really shocked by Jamil’s power and how he’s able control all the students individually -> Kalim “Jamil! Please stop, I understood now. So I’ll make you the leader! And I’ll go back home too so...” -> Jamil “ha? What are you talking about, there’s no way my shackles can be broken that easily as long as...... Kalim! You exist in this world!” -> Jade “this is bad, if he keep going like this he will overblot.” -> Jamil “Shut up! Don’t order me around. I won’t, listen to anyone’s orders anymore!! I’m finally free!!!” -> then Jamil went overblot

Jamil “there’s no use for the useless king or a con! Just fly to the end of the world and never come back! WOOOOOOOPEE!!” -> everyone are blown away -> Jamil “So long, ex leader Kalim!! Ahahahaha!!”* -> everyone was blown to the end of the dessert, and it seems like it would take tens of hours to walk back -> Kalim started crying and blames himself for what happens with Jamil, and saying how Jamil would never do this before, and how Jamil would always help him, and was always a really trustworthy person -> Floyd commented that Kalim is too good of a person that it somehow... feels annoying -> Jade also says when Kalim started to blame himself it kind of makes his too good of a person that it’s a little disgusting -> but Kalim is still not believing Jamil betrayed him -> even though no matter how you looked at it he is being betrayed, a lot -> Azul explains to Kalim that this is not his fault -> and Kalim finally understood that maybe Jamil was the bad guy the entire time -> then Kalim decided he’ll go back and punch Jamil and call him a betrayer -> then you all realized you kind of has to find a way to go back -> Jade “it’ll be nice if there’s rivers, then me and Floyd can just swim back, but those river beds are all dried up.” -> so Kalim made rivers with his unique magic, which could make a lot of water with little magic power

-> back in Scarabia -> Jamil order the students to praise and compliment him more -> Kalim and everyone was finally able to make it back -> Jamil was quite surprised -> Kalim explains that they swims back with his unique magic -> Jamil “looks like you finally find a use for your unique magic, isn’t that well, normally it is just a useless magic that can only do things like watering plants.”

Kalim “Jamil... I finally understood how you think of me, there’s no mistake, you are an evil betrayer!”

Jamil “idiot, isn’t it your fault that you never doubt me for a second?”

Kalim “let’s fight fair and square, and I’ll take back the leader position that you steal from me!”

Jamil “steal? Ha, what are you talking about, you are the one that steals everything away from me! Witness my true power!”

-> fight time -> Jamil lose -> flashback time

Ever since Jamil can remember, his parents always tells him that he can’t do better than Kalim even though he is way smarter than Kalim, he has to let Kalim win every time -> Jamil’s parents always tell him “I know you are a smart boy, so you understand our situation right?” -> study, gym, games, no matter what, Jamil has to pretend that he can’t do it as long as Kalim is also in it -> Jamil “I’m only letting him win every time, and he still just going around with his carefree face, just notice it already you dense head!” -> flashbacks cuts to Jamil asking Crowley why was Kalim picked as dorm leader -> Crowley “it was because night raven college has received a lot of support from the Asim family...... you are a smart one, so you definitely... understand our situation right?” -> Jamil monologue: Every adults all says the same thing. “you understand our situation right?”

Then, who is going to understand me?

Kalim, as long as you exist, I would always have to stand back.

I, even I — wanted to become number one.

Jamil woke up and saw Kalim crying on top of him since Kalim was so worried that Jamil would die -> Kalim also apologize that he never realized Jamil’s feelings and how long Jamil has been enduring it -> Kalim “you are a horrible person, but you are also the one that helps me every time. That’s why, let’s just stop it, let’s stop thinking about the positions of our parents or the master servant relationship. Start from today, let’s become rivals and both try to take the first place with our skills. And on an equal ground......”

Kalim “Let’s become friends, Jamil.”

Jamil “become friends... on an equal ground....? Ha, that conclusion is so you, Kalim.......”

Jamil “then I want to say it as someone with an equal ground.”

Jamil “I WILL DEFINITELY REFUSE.”

Kalim “Eh.”

Jamil “You basically has nothing in your brain, super clumsy and never has a care in the world, and a thick head that don’t have any delicacy on top of that, who would want to befriend someone like that! If I got nothing from it then I won’t even try to get closer to you for one bit!”

-> everyone was quite surprised by that -> but Azul actually liked this Jamil more and suggest Jamil to come to octavinelle instead -> and got shut down by Jamil ruthlessly too -> but in the end, Jamil does tells Kalim that he never plan on just let Kalim win again

-> later, Grim is look around for the black stone again, and he mentioned how he just want to eat more and more of it.

-> next day, Kalim started another party and drags Jamil to join the dance -> Jade commented that they are both really good at dancing -> then you saw Ace and Deuce -> those two hurried here after seeing your message asking for help -> since the magic gate was closed so they had to ride other public transportation all the way back -> Kalim drags them into the party too since you are all friends

Back in ramshackle, you saw Liliya and he handed you a holiday card with a M.D signature.

In your room, middle of the night, you saw the Mickey shadow in your mirror again, he thought he was dreaming but then he could slowly hear your voices, he asks where you are, you answered twisted wonderland.

Then the holiday ended, the school started again in January, you met up with Deuce, Ace, and Jack in front of school -> Deuce accidentally runs into Epel -> Epel was crying -> Deuce ask if it hurts that much he’ll help Epel to nurse office -> but Epel runs away -> Jack mentions that they are in the same class

In pomefiore -> Vil ask for Rook to capture that kid for him, Vil mentions that he’ll not let that kid run away, and it’s all for the sake of obtain the beauty.

End of chapter 4.

* it is a reference to prince Ali reprise, where Jafar says “so long, ex prince Ali” I wanted to keep the reference so I changed it a bit. In the original text it says “nice shot” instead (and I just think it’s really cute and wanted to write it in here)

God this was hella of a ride, sorry this summary got this long, I basically translated too many dialogues line by line because I think those dialogues are pretty important, especially the part where Kalim questioning Jamil just after Jamil got exposed. his voice was just so sad and you can basically hear him shaking, and hear his heart shatter into little pieces after each question.

(Okay another reason that this becomes this long was probably because of a little personal bias too lol, my favorites are Kalim and Jamil after all)

[poesparakeet-fics]

Second part done! Read on AO3 or here! SFW!

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Caduceus Clay & The Mighty Nein, Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caduceus Clay & Yasha, Caduceus Clay & Caleb Widogast, Caduceus Clay & Beauregard Lionett Characters: Caduceus Clay, Jester Lavorre, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha (Critical Role), Nott | Veth Brenatto, Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett Additional Tags: Tickling, Revenge, Shrinking, wild magic mishaps, safeword, Teasing Summary:

Caduceus has made a habit of tickling some of his companions, be it as a cheer-up, a settle-down or a playful punishment. When a mishap with some wild magic makes his smaller than his friends, a few decide to get a little revenge.

CHAPTER 2 TEXT

They’d all agreed to wait a few days before going anywhere weird or dangerous, at least until Caduceus was back to normal. Sure, he didn’t fight using his size much, but the dangerously thin firbolg looked so breakable without his formidable height that they agreed to wait it out. After all, it was only a few days.

So naturally, trouble had found them.

They were lucky, really. Nobody was hurt badly, just a few scrapes and bruises. The spellcasters were burnt out, though.

“OK…” Jester said as they breathed a sigh of relief after entering the tower’s front door. “I got one healing word in me. Caduceus, want me to take care of that cut on your head?”

Caduceus reached up to touch it. It was barely a scrape. “Nah, I’m good. Maybe take down some of the bruising on Yasha’s arm?”

Jester did so, and Caduceus started to float upward toward his room. Thanks to the floating he didn’t even notice he was being followed until two sets of feet set down behind him, two bodies suddenly moving to walk with him pressed between them.

He looked up. It wasn’t Beau and Yasha, as he would have expected, Yasha being the only one to share the floor with him. It was Beau and Caleb, both smirking in ways that made his stomach squirm.

“Hey Caleb, did you hear what went on down there?”

“Ja, I think I did, Beauregard.”

“I think Caduceus just dodged a healing spell.”

Panic ripped a gasp out of Caduceus chest. “I did NOT!”

He started to try and break away from them, but Beau caught him around his middle and hugged him tight from behind. She lifted him off the ground easily, his feet kicking the air while Caleb stared him down.

“Jester offered you healing and you refused, Herr Clay. These are your rules. We have a zero tolerance policy, you see.”

Caduceus squirmed in Beau’s grasp.  “It’s not the same –”

“Um, actually…” Beau cut him off, starting to walk them toward his room, “I’d like to refer you back to a previous instance of you counting Caleb’s ribs two months ago, where you involved Mollymauk for the first time. I believe it was the seventh instance of this punishment being meted out. In that instance, there were limited healing spells left and Caleb’s injury was superficial, but you cited the zero tolerance policy.”

“Ungh!” Caduceus grunted, trying to tug himself free of two arms as strong as ship cable, “You two are–”

“–Going to find out how many ribs a firbolg has?” Caleb teased over a very frightening little smirk that broke into a grin when his eyes flicked over Caduceus’ shoulder. “Veth the brave! I could use your assistance!”

When Beau turned to look he caught sight of Veth floating at the centre of the tower, her arms crossed and an amused look on her face. Her eyes met Caduceus’ gaze for a second.

“Nah. You guys have fun.”

Beau jostled Caduceus as she addressed Caleb. “Don’t worry you skinny shit, I’ll hold him down for you so you can get a little payback.”

“Noo…” Caduceus whimpered, the futility of the situation growing ever clearer. Caleb and Beau ignored him, talking to each other over his head instead as they entered his bedroom.

“Hey, has he ever done that thing where he tickles you until you say nice things about yourself?”

“Ugh. Ja.”

“So what’s he gotta say?” Beau climbed onto the bed with Caduceus still in her arms, keeping his back to her front.

“Hmm. We could make him say something mean, but that does not quite fit….”  

“Nah.” Beau started to wrestle with Caduceus arms, fighting to get them up over his head. “How about just ‘I deserve this’ over and over until we’re satisfied?”

Caduceus fought her, whimpering, but her hands were as quick as sparrows and it was barely a moment before she had his wrists gripped tight. He tried to twist and get his feet under him on the bed, but Caleb grabbed his ankles and tripped his feet out as he perched on the side.

“Ja, that works for me.” Caleb shoved Caduceus’ shirt up, tucking it behind his head to keep it out of the way.

“No no no!” Caduceus wheezed as he saw his wizard friend and frequent victim smiling like a cat who caught the canary and floating his hands in a move that was clearly meant to rile him. It worked.

“Ah, you can take it, I’m sure.” the wizard answered, meeting his eyes with a wicked glitter in his gaze, “I mean, you could safeword, but I don’t think you will. Not when you know you deserve this.”

Caduceus choked a little at the reference to his very first time counting Caleb’s ribs, a whine building in the back of his throat as the man’s hands drifted closer. Oh, he was in for it . It might be easier just to cast gentle repose on himself now— Jester wouldn’t be able to bring him back until the morning.

“Alright, so we start with number one, ja?”

Caleb’s ink-stained fingertips found Caduceus’ lowest rib, flatter and broader than a human’s. The firbolg bit his lip and whimpered as first they only grazed the downy hair there before starting to pinch along the length.

“Eeheek!” Caduceus squeaked, his heels drumming on the soft bedspread as giggles poured out..

“There, just like the first time.” Caleb teased over a tight-lipped smile. “Although, actually…” Caleb’s fingers started to attack him on one side, and then the other, switching back and forth to make him writhe. “That first time, you did it one side at a time, didn’t you? So, do you deserve this, Herr Clay?”

“Noho! I- I caught you ahaha– with aha broken rib thahahat first time!”

“He what ?!” Came a growl from over Caduceus’ shoulder.

“Ah– nothing. Moving on. Two!” Caleb’s hands jumped up one rib, drawing a satisfying squeal from their captive. “Now, the second time was still just you, but a little more like… this.”

Caleb ducked down to nuzzle his nose and cheek across Caduceus’ lower rib cage. The gentle pressure and rough hair along his cheek nearly made Caduceus jump out of his skin. His back arched, his body driven back into Beau’s embrace for lack of a better place to go.

“Aha— AHAha— Ohoho, OHo OK! I deserve it! I deserve it!”

Caleb stopped nuzzling but put his fingers back to work immediately. “Wunderbar! Three.”

“Nohoho! I deserve it! Aahaa! Please!”

Caleb ignored him. “The third time… that was Veth and her feather, wasn’t it?”

Caleb pulled away to dig around his coat, and Caduceus got a precious moment to breath. He slumped against Beau and tried his best to unscramble himself.

“Got it!” Said Caleb.

Caduceus’ eyes shot open to see the wizard twirling a quill in his hand.

“Eep! Wait! I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it! ”

Caleb flicked the soft fronds of the feather across one rib, then another. “It’s good that you can admit that now. So here is three, and there is four… I’m sure you have more ribs than I have vengeance, right, Herr Clay?”

Cad was too breathless to answer, slumped against Beau in a frenzy of chirping giggles that pitched upward when Caleb jumped another rib. The feather was surprisingly maddening after the rough scrape of stubble.

“Five!” Caleb cheered, “so the next time would have been Yasha…”

“NO! Nononono! Pleeheeheehease!” Caduceus didn’t bother telling them he deserved it this time, that clearly wasn’t getting him anywhere.

Caleb chuckled, exchanging a devilish wink with Beauregard over Cad’s shoulder before leaning in to nip at the side of Caduceus’ ribcage.

His reaction was more scream than laughter. Oh, the teeth were bad . The biting had all the same staticy mix of sensations that the nuzzles did with the added maddening little scrape of teeth. His breathing was hitched, his legs were kicking desperately against the bedspread. By the time Caleb let up there were tears in his eyes.

Caleb let him catch his breath and watched him with a little softness.

“While we are not nearly even for what you have put me through, I do feel a little bad. You’re nearly done, eh? How about this: We’ll skip to Mollymauk–”

“NO!” Caduceus yelped, still breathless.

“Hey, hey, calm down. I only want one. You made me use my safeword over a black eye, Herr Clay. You deserve much more, but if I get one, we may call it even.”

Caduceus’ whole body was rigid, and he groaned from behind clenched teeth. “Even? Blank slate?”

Caleb chuckled at the answer. “Ja. Blank slate. Until you decide to torture me again.”

“Well that’s up to you, man.” Caduceus growled, shutting his eyes tight and clenching his teeth. “OK. Do it.”

“Ja?” Caleb asked with a renewed smile.

“Yes!”

“You’re ready?”

“Cale–”

Pbbbbbt!

That sound again, this time mostly drowned out by a bleating shriek as Caduceus jerked like he was hit by lightning. The single raspberry felt like it went on forever, a rare credit to Caleb’s lung capacity.

When Caleb pulled back he was chuckling, partly out of delight for his vengeance and partly out of mirth at Caduceus’ reaction, now starting to fade into a collection of leftover giggles, sniffles and hiccups. Beau let go of his arms and hugged him to let him lean against her and catch his breath.

“The next *hic* time you beg for *hic* mercy…”

“You’ll take it very easy on me. We are even, remember? No vengeance allowed.”

Shit . Caduceus winced. He hadn’t processed what he was agreeing to, something the wizard had undoubtedly been hoping for.

“You know, I think this erases your escalations, too.” Beau added from over his shoulder. “Blank slate, right?”

Caleb brightened considerably. “Ja! A blank slate. Starting from the beginning.”

Caduceus growled, crossing his arms and trying to look annoyed while still hiccuping. Beau crawled out from behind him, and they both rose to their feet. Caleb planted a kiss on top of his head.

“Goodnight, Herr Clay.”

…..

He was big again before long. It happened when he was sleeping, and the next morning he’d made a pot of tea by the time he realized he no longer needed two hands to pour. The epiphany made him spring up straight, a smile on his face. He felt like himself again.

It was Veth who trundled into the kitchen first.

“Good morning!” Caduceus greeted her.

“Oh! I see you’re back. Are you happy to be big again?”

“Well, it’s a little more.. Me.”

“Yes, I think it is,” her eyes glittered at him, “now you’ll be safe from the others.”

“Heh.” Caduceus nodded, “I think everyone who wanted revenge got it by now. But I am glad to be a little harder to pin down. Thank you for not helping them.”

He turned toward the sink with his mug, and Veth was suddenly hanging off his back with her feet braced on his belt.

“We both know I don’t need you to be small to get you, do I Mr. Clay?” She whispered in his ear.

Caduceus barely got one large hand over his own mouth before one of Veth’s small ones was plunged down the back of his shirt collar. Her arm disappeared there, fingers scrabbling at the skin between his shoulder blades. He squawked into his hand, legs collapsing and spine twisting. He ended up on his knees, trying desperately to shake her off as she moved with him like a rucksack, as slippery as an itch he couldn’t reach to scratch.

“Ok! Ahaa! Ok! Veth, please!” He wheezed around his hand.

She did stop, hopping off his back with a little smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna keep that secret and hold over you for a while yet.”

“Wonderful.” Caduceus groaned from his position curled up in a ball on the floor.

“Just don’t get cocky and I’ll never have a reason to TAKE YOU DOWN!”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed as he stood up. “Deal. Mercy. And don’t worry, Caleb already negotiated a pretty generous immunity offer for himself.”

Veth snorted. “Please. Do that as much as you want. Just don’t. Get. Cocky.”

“Ok, Veth.”

[katymacsupernatural]

When Push Comes to Shove

Dean Winchester x Reader

3600 Words

Written For @amanda-teaches and her 2K Reader and Writer Challenge.

My prompt: “I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage.”

Summary: A bad fight years ago between Y/N and Dean had her running off. Now, five years later, they need her help. But when she arrives, all things left unsaid are brought out into the open.

Warnings: Lots of angst, mentions Dean with the mark, other warnings in the tags because of spoilers. 

When you had first received the phone call, you immediately hung up, your heart racing as memories from five years ago came crashing through the wall you had so carefully erected.

“No, I can’t,” you whispered, staring down at the phone laying on your bed as if it had bitten you. And truthfully, it had.

It started ringing again, Sam’s name flashing on the phone, and while you wanted to toss it into the nearest trash can, you knew he would only call in an emergency.

“Hi Sam,” you whispered, your voice shakier than you realized.

His voice crackled through the phone, the connection not the greatest. “Y/N, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” you agreed. You had missed him. You had once considered him your closest friend. But after your disaster with his brother, well….

“Listen, I’d love to catch up, but we have quite the problem going on here,” he yelled through the phone. You could hear gunfire and yelling in the background, immediately putting your rusty hunter senses on high alert. “How fast can you get to Indiana?”

“That’s five or so hours away,” you measured in your head. “But Sam, I haven’t gone on a hunt in..well...since you know.”

Sam forgot about the phone call for a moment as he yelled in the background, the gunfire even closer. “Listen, I wouldn’t have called you if this wasn’t an all hands on deck kinda deal. So please. Get your guns and get your ass over here. Pronto.”

He hung up, and you stared down at the phone in dismay. “Hey honey, is everything okay?” Tyler called from the doorway, and you glanced up at your boyfriend, hoping your poker face was in place. “Is everything okay? Who were you talking to?”

“Just an old friend,” you answered, knowing that Tyler wouldn’t be able to handle any aspect of your old life. “Wanted to do a little get together tomorrow.”

Tyler strode forward, pulling you into his arms. It was comforting and safe, but nowhere near as exciting as...you refused to even think it. “Honey, I think you should go!” He exclaimed. “After all, I’m heading down to Vegas for the weekend with the boys. I was worried about you being here all alone, and now I won’t have to worry.”

He pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before taking his duffle bag from the floor. “Let me know when you get there. K?”

You nodded, watching silently as he left the room, knowing that while your heart wanted you to stay here, where it was safe, you couldn’t leave Sam in Danger. Or Dean.

Even thinking his name was enough to send a pain straight through your heart, and you wondered how you would ever get through the next few days.

Everything was as you had left it. Gathering a fine layer of dust, but the guns were still in good shape. Your ammo was a little low, but that could easily be fixed. You took the entire toolbox, the heavy weight welcome in your arms as you pushed it into the back of your classic old pickup. “Ready to ride again girl?” You asked the classic 1970 Ford, patting her tailgate fondly. You had painstakingly fixed her back up until she looked and ran better than ever before. Tyler had thought it odd but had never said anything.

With one last glance back at your normal life, you climbed into your truck, pulling out of the driveway and turning it to the highway that led straight to your past.

With the radio quietly playing country music, you thought back to the last time you had seen Sam and Dean. It had been horrible, parting with anger and frustration. Tears had filled your vision as you had driven away, not only from the man that still held your heart, but away from the only life you had ever known.

But you had been given no choice. Dean had taken your heart, ripped it in shreds, without even realizing he was doing it. Later you had heard it was the Mark that had caused it, but you had been too scared to turn back.

You noticed the black Impala immediately as you pulled into the only hotel in the tiny town. It was dusty, but otherwise just exactly as you had remembered it. All the times spent in the passenger seat, listening as Dean sang along to the music. The other times in the backseat with his body covering yours.

The thoughts swirling through your mind were quickly becoming melancholy, and you forced them away, parking beside the car. “It’s just a car,” you whispered to yourself, but you still wondered how many women Dean had laid down in that back seat since you’ve been gone.

“Y/N!” Sam exclaimed as he pushed open the door to room 112. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“Didn’t seem like I had much of a choice,” you muttered. “But you look okay.”

“Barely made it out of there,” he muttered. “And tomorrow we try again.”

He took your duffel bag, tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s a mess in there. Demons everywhere. They ambushed us, and we almost...if it wasn’t for Cas.”

He shook his head. “But we can talk business later. I already booked you a room. It’s right next to ours. Hope that’s okay.”

You placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. “Sam, does..does he know that I’m here?”

He sighed. “Yeah, he does. I figured I’d give you two some privacy later if you want it.”

You weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted. Sure, it would help to clear the air, but you weren’t exactly ready for a confrontation. “Sam, I..,”

“Sam! Get in here!” Dean’s voice yelled through the thin walls, and you shuddered back slightly in fear, all sorts of emotions rocking your system.

“Y/N, that was years ago,” Sam offered. “He’s changed. Just give him a chance.”

He gave you his goofy, sideways smile, not realizing that you had already moved on. At least your head had, even if your heart hadn’t. Sam took your hand, pulling you into the room where Dean was sitting at the table, his head lowered as he glared at the laptop in front of him.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. His hair was wet and unstyled, slightly longer than you remembered. His shoulders were just as wide as you remembered, encased in a simple maroon flannel. A black t-shirt stretched across his chest, his strong thighs encased in roughed up denim. He looked good, even with the nasty gash above his eye. “Hey Dean,” you spoke softly, wincing as he glared up at you.

“Sam said he called you,” his voice rolled, even deeper than you remembered. But still cold. Oh so cold. And it hurt. “You didn’t need to come.”

“Dean, we talked about this,” Sam sighed. “Those Demons have us outnumbered. At least this way we have a fighting chance.”

Dean closed the laptop sharply. “A fighting chance? One more person against all those Demons? How is that going to help?”

“I can go,” you offered.

He ran his fingers through his hair, completely agitated.  “No. Don’t go. I’m just...we do need your help.”

You sat down across from him, offering him a small smile even though you were shaking inside. Sam took that opportunity to sneak out the door, yelling over his shoulder that he was going for dinner. “Guess it’s just you and I,” Dean mumbled.

Sitting there quietly, you stared at Dean who seemed to look anywhere but at you. And while you didn’t want to do it, you knew the air needed to be cleaned before you finished off the hunt. “Listen, Dean, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what? There’s nothing to talk about!” He exclaimed, pushing back from the table, pacing the small hotel room. “I was an Ass, you left like you should have. You’re here to kill some Demons, that’s it.”

“That’s not it,” you answered softly, just the memory of it enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Dean, if we don’t talk about it, then…,”

Dean sighed, tucking his hands in his jeans. “Y/N, I wanted to call you. Every day, for over a year, I typed in your number but hung up because I was too chicken. How could I call you and expect you to understand? To forgive me?”

“I wish you had,” you whispered. “After I left, I was so lost, so heartbroken. I wanted to turn around, head back, but I thought everything was too broken. I was too broken.”

“Damn it Y/N, I never meant to hurt you. You should know that. I hate to blame it on the Mark, but it changed me. In ways I never imagined.”

“Dean, it wasn’t just me,” you finally admitted. You had never spoken the words out loud. Never told anyone. You had taken the loss and buried it deep inside.

“What do you mean?” He asked, stopping in front of you.

“When we had that argument, I don’t know how much you remember.”

“I remember every little moment of that day. They haunt me in my nightmares. Every word, every time my hand connected with your skin. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that.”

Your mouth opened, the words ready to be heard for the first time, but Sam burst through the door, the forgotten dinner bags squished in his hands. He froze, glancing between you and Dean.

“What?” Dean growled, annoyed that your intimate conversation had been interrupted.

“I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage,” Sam muttered. And if you hadn’t just been ready to bare your soul, you would have laughed.

“Neither, Sam,” you assured him, but the moment between you and Dean was gone. Maybe forever.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to move. Now!” He exclaimed, tossing the food on the table. “The Demons are getting ready to move.”

“Damn it,” Dean grumbled. “Let’s go.”

Sam filled you in as you climbed into the backseat of the Impala. “Missed you girl,” you whispered, patting her leather seats fondly. Dean glanced at you through the rearview mirror, his expression full of regret. “So these Demons have Jack.”

“Who’s Jack?” You asked, hearing the fondness as Sam said his name. Making you realize how much you’ve missed these last few years.

Sam tried to smile, but it faltered. “He’s like a son to us. But in reality, he’s the son of Lucifer.”

“What?” The word came out louder than you wanted, but what Sam had just said, it shocked you more than you cared to admit.

“I know what it sounds like,” Sam spoke quickly. “But he’s nothing like his Dad. Cas is more like his Dad than anyone. We’ve known him since the day he was born, and he’s a good kid. Needs guidance, but he’s...uh..he’s getting there.”

“So how old is he?” You asked as Dean rounded the corner, parking in a dark alley.

“Typical human age doesn’t work for Jack,” Cas said as he appeared on the seat beside you. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

“Cas!” You threw your arms around his shoulders, giving the Angel a tight hug. He returned it awkwardly, before turning his attention to Sam and Dean. “I’ve been surveying the place. With Y/N’s help, we should be able to infiltrate in and save Jack.”

“What’s the plan Cas?” Dean asked as you all climbed out of the car.

“I believe Sam and I should head through the south side. There only seems to be only three Demons on that side. You and Y/N shall head through on the North Side. There are more Demons there, but if you keep them occupied, Sam and I can retrieve Jack.”

“I think we can handle that,” Dean didn’t even look your way as he made sure he had all of his weapons ready and loaded. You had the Angel Blade that Cas had given you years ago, along with a couple of Devil’s trap bullets. You were as ready as you could be.

Sam and Cas took off, rounding the corner, while you and Dean stayed to the front. Shadowed by the brick wall, Dean pulled you to the side. “Y/N, I know we ended that conversation on a cliffhanger. But you’re good for this hunt, right? How long has it been since your last hunt?”

“Five years,” you whispered. “But I will be fine.”

“Five years!” He seemed completely taken back. “But that’s when…, you mean you haven’t hunted since then?”

“No. But we need to go,” you insisted, pushing past him and rounding the corner. The house stood in front of you, dark and foreboding. Sam and Cas were just rounding the back. Pushing ahead of Dean, you led the way to the front. He wouldn’t believe your words, so you would just show him that you were still capable of hunting.

And then, maybe you could go home. Back to your normal life. With your normal boyfriend. Who, you had to admit, never created the same butterfly effect that Dean always did to you. But at least it was safe.

“Damn it Y/N, slow down,” Dean growled low as he came rushing up beside you. “Do you want to mess this whole thing up?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the door swung open, and the fight quickly began. Three Demons greeted you at the door, no doubt ready and waiting for your arrival. They swung knives and blades, but weirdly enough didn’t use their powers. Stabbing on through the heart, you turned to see Dean grappling with two big and surly men. However, as you headed over to help, two more came down the stairs, and you were once again fighting for your life.

You were quickly overwhelmed, one holding you roughly by the shoulders, the other one laughing as he swirled the blade around his fingers. “Is this all you brought with you, Winchester? A slight girl, her fighting stale. We expected more of a fight.”

Dean had just killed one Demon, and with a growl, he stabbed the other before facing the ones holding you with murderous rage. “Let her go now!”

“Or you’ll what?” He chuckled. “You take one step towards me and I’ll have this blade so deep in her skin before you could even blink.”

You struggled against the Demon’s tight hold, your breaths short. Dean’s gaze caught yours, full of anguish and fear. His words earlier rang in your mind. You had come into this so unprepared. This was all your fault. “No. I will not let you control this,” You muttered, dropping all of your weight. Surprising the Demon, he let you fall, and it gave Dean a chance to stab the first one. As you started to stand up, the other Demon gasped in surprise, his eyes burning yellow before he slumped to the floor.

“Is everyone alright?” Cas asked, wiping his hand on his trench coat. Behind him stood a young man, a little bloody, his right eye swollen but otherwise unharmed.

“Yep. We’re good,” You answered, ignoring Dean as Cas helped you to stand up. “This must be Jack.”

“You’re...you’re Y/N,” he spoke, coming forward, his gaze almost too much with its intensity. You wanted to look away, but you were caught up in it as well. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” You whispered before Dean was gently grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Let’s go before any more of these black-eyed sons of bitches come back,” he insisted and led the way out the front door. Cas and Jack were not far behind you, Sam shutting the door and taking up the rear.

Once you were safely inside the Impala, you found yourself sitting next to Jack. Sam and Dean were talking softly in the front seat while Cas smiled happily as he stared at Jack. Jack’s attention was on you though. “I am glad to finally meet you,” he offered, reaching for your hand. You thought he was going to shake it, but he simply held it, his eyes widening. “Jack?” Cas noticed the strange look in his face as well.

Suddenly Jack let go of your hand. “I’ve never felt such heartbreak before,” he muttered. “Y/N, how do you keep going with all that pain in your heart? I felt pain and sadness directed at Dean. But there was something else.”

You could feel Dean’s gaze on you through the rearview mirror, and you tried to stop Jack before he said too much. But you were too late. “I’m so sorry for your loss. A miscarriage was it?”

Dean slammed on the brakes, parking in front of his motel room. “Everyone out! Now!”

You started to climb out of the car as well, but one look from Dean had you staying where you were. Sam was the first one out, smiling reassuringly to you before he disappeared with Cas and Jack into the room, leaving you alone with Dean. Alone with the big news that Jack suddenly decided to let everyone know about.

“I didn’t realize he could read people like that,” you started talking as Dean turned in his seat to face you, your hands tugging on the loose thread of your shirt. You were nervous and unready to have this conversation.

“He has a lot of powers that even he doesn’t know about,” Dean explained. “But what he said. Was it true?”

You thought back to that horrible day. You had barely left the bunker when the pain hit. Cramps that had doubled you over, making you swerve your car. You had been alone and scared in the hospital when you had lost an important part of your life. “Yes. It was.”

He ran a hand along his chin, a sure sign that he was upset and unsure. “Dean, during that fight. When..well..something happened. I didn’t blame you for that. After all, I hadn't’ even told you the news yet. I wanted to wait until things were back to normal. Our normal. To tell you that I was...pregnant. But then…,”

“We fought, and it was because of me you lost the baby,” he whispered. “Y/N, I’m so freaking sorry.”

The tears were falling down your face before you even realized you were crying. “It’s nice. Finally being able to tell someone. I’ve kept it buried inside for so long. Dean, please know this. I’ve never blamed you. You had the Mark, it changed you. You didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t excuse it!” He bellowed. “Y/N, I ruined your life, and mine with that freaking mark! I just wish that..,”

“Please don’t,” you spoke softly, wiping away the tears. “Can we just forget any of this ever happened? You can go back to hunting with your brother and his friends. I can go back to my normal life and…,”

“What’s his name?” Dean asked.

“Tyler. We’ve been dating for over a year now.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Is that what you really want? To air all of this out and then run away..to Tyler and whatever normal life you’ve made for yourself? Because I don’t know about you, but I still love you Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you admitted. “But sometimes love isn’t enough to push past all the pain.”

You reached forward, brushing your knuckles against his cheek before you slid out of the car. Dean only watched as you climbed into your truck. Tears streamed down your face as you started to pull away.

“Is this the right thing?” You cried as you pulled onto the highway. Sniffling back tears, you tried to look forward. Back to your simple job, and the fact that you and Tyler were thinking of taking a vacation next month. But all you could see was your memories of Dean.

Dean, with his cheeky smile who had captured your heart the moment you saw him in Harvelle’s bar. Dean, who would wake you up in the middle of the night to take you to some empty field to look at the stars. The man who had always kept his promise to come back to you. And yet here you were, running away.

Slamming on the brakes, you flipped the truck around, knowing you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t run from Dean again. You turned your truck into the parking lot, your tires squealing at the speed. Dean was just getting out of the Impala, walking towards the hotel room.

Turning the engine off, you jumped out. “Dean!” You screamed. “Dean, wait!”

He turned but made no move. Smiling, you raced forward, throwing your arms around him. “I can’t lose you again.”

“But what about Tyler? And that normal life?” He asked, but you could see the hope shining in his eyes.

“It was never meant for me,” you assured him, and with those words, his mouth crashed against yours, and everything was right with the world once again.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @akshi8278  @bebravekeeponfighting  @bi-danvers0​ @brindz30 @cap-just-said-language​ @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva​ @hamiltrash1411​ @its-not-a-tulpa​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @justanotherwinchester​ @just-another-winchester​ @karouwinchester​ @keikoraventeller​  @krys198478​ @librarygeekery​ @magssteenkamp​ @misspygmypie​ @mlovesstories​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love​ @ruprecht0420​     @sortaathief​ @superseejay721517​ @squirrelnotsam​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @torn-and-frayed​ @tricksterdean​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @woodworthti666​

Forever Tags:  @aditimukul​ @alexwinchester23​ @algud​ @amanda-teaches​ @andreaaalove​   @artisticpoet​ @atc74​ @be-amaziing​ @camelotandastronauts​ @caswinchester2000​ @cpag7​ @chelsea072498​  @closetspngirl​   @docharleythegeekqueen​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ericaprice2008​  @esoltis280​   @foxyjwls007​ @gh0stgurl​ @goldenolaf25​ @growningupgeek​  @heyitscam99​ @hobby27​ @horsegirly99​ @imsuperawkward​ @internationalmusicteacher​ @iwriteaboutdean​  @jayankles​ @jensen-gal​ @justsomedreaming​ @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu​ @linki-locks11​ @littleblue5mcdork​  @lowlyapprentice​   @maui137 @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @mogaruke​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @musiclovinchic93​  @nanie5​   @percussiongirl2017​ @plaid-lover-bay25​   @roonyxx​ @ronja-uebrick​ @roxyspearing​ @samanthaharper2018 @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean​ @simonsbluee​ @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @vvinch3st3r​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 7 - A Broken Sword

After that delightful dose of fluff last chapter I can assure you that we are now returning to our angsty scheduled program. Thanks to @persony-pepper for betaing. Have fun reading!

Summary: Ciri and Jaskier are getting along better by the minute. The Viscount and Geralt, however, can't seem to find common ground. 

Read on AO3

Part 1 | Part 7 | Part 9

In general, things got better in Lettenhove. Geralt didn't know what Ciri and Jaskier had done that afternoon before he had found them in Jaskier's nursery, but whatever it was, he wasn't about to complain. Because by some kind of miracle it made Ciri laugh and Jaskier talk — not to him, of course, but that was another story. Even Janina had stopped insulting him at every turn.

On a personal and petty level, though, things got worse. It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But Ciri had spent an entire afternoon with Jaskier, she even got to call him Jaskier. She had even gotten him to call Geralt by his name; he hadn't even known how much he'd missed that, and yet— And yet. And yet, she refused to talk about whatever had transpired that day besides that Jaskier had told her some stupid story about some stupid hero.

It had been a week and yet every time he tried to coax the actual story out of her, she responded with: "Jaskier said, if you don't know it, it is not his place to tell me what happened. So, it is not my place to tell you what happened."

It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was infuriating.

Not only had Jaskier stolen his child surprise, but he was also feeling more like an outsider than ever. Before, it had been Ciri and him who were obviously encroaching into the ancestral home of the Lord and Ladies Pankratz, their mere presence at the dinner table an unwelcome intrusion of the familiar rhythm the three siblings followed. Now, with Ciri animatedly chatting with both Jaskier and Józefa, he grew more uneasy every day.

From time to time he even played with the thought to leave. With a good enough horse, he might still make it to Kaer Morhen before the Trail became impassable. He could leave Ciri here for the winter and return for her come spring. He trusted Jaskier not to sell her out. But then again, Jaskier was no warrior. He might have changed a lot but not that much. If Ciri would be attacked he wouldn’t be able to defend her. He couldn’t leave— it was just wishful thinking.

To make things worse, Jaskier's attitude towards him didn't improve one bit. He probably could handle not being talked to; after all, he had wished for blessed silence long enough. It was the little things that made Geralt lose his mind. Like how Jaskier still insisted on calling him 'witcher' most of the time. Or how he had no qualms ordering Geralt around like one of his guards. Or that he just burst into Geralt's room one day while he was telling Ciri a story and triumphantly declared: "I have thought of a solution!"

"You can't just barge into rooms without knocking," Geralt growled.

The comment made Jaskier frown, as if he was thoroughly confused by it. "You're mistaken, witcher," he said and Ciri giggled. "I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. This is my castle, after all." He winked at Ciri and she laughed louder as if they were privy to some kind of joke Geralt didn't understand.

'Nobles.' He ground his teeth. There was a reason why he avoided aristocrats like the plague. How on earth had he managed two collect two of them? And why on earth stared the two of them at him as if they were waiting for something? Geralt sighed: "What solution, my lord?"

"We will dye Ciri's hair!" 

Ciri shrieked and attempted to scramble out of Geralt's lap, but he quickly caught her and pulled her back. "Not so fast, cublet," he said and dangled her from her ankle upside down,  before he turned to Jaskier: "I beg your pardon?"

“We will dye her hair,” he repeated.

“Why?” Geralt asked and Jaskier rolled his eyes.

"To better hide her," he said very slowly as if talking to a particularly stupid child. "A lot of people know — or know of — the ashen-haired Princess of Cintra, who was claimed as child surprise by Geralt of Rivia, who was foolishly immortalised for his white hair and is known to be my friend. I will try to shield her from view as much as I can but I can't lock her up for the whole winter. And pray tell, how suspicious do you think it would be to have a 'cousin' no-one has ever heard of, who fits the description perfectly, arrive with you at my home, witcher? Hm? That is disaster waiting to happen."

"So?"

Jaskier rolled his eyes at him. "So, I have had a nice little potion brought in that will dye our dear lion cub's hair in a lovely shade of chestnut brown that quite resembles mine if I do say so myself."

Geralt snorted and put Ciri down onto her feet again. "Why, because you hide your grey hairs with that?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. "That is none of your concern, witcher," the viscount answered and Geralt cursed silently. He couldn't quite get used to the no-jokes-about-the-viscount-allowed-policy in Lettenhove. They hadn't really talked about it — then again, what had they really talked about since his arrival? — but Jaskier enforced this unspoken law with an iron fist. The fact that Ciri seemed to be exempt — the only exception besides Józefa — didn't make it any better. Every time he saw her joking with Jaskier, both of them gently teasing each other mercilessly, he ached to join in.

Sometimes, their antics were enough to make his unyielding discipline waver, sometimes Jaskier's ramblings were. Every time he slipped up it was like starting over again. He cast his eyes downwards. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Pardon, I didn't quite catch that," Jaskier retorted with that particular voice of his he used so often nowadays. Geralt still couldn't quite place its meaning.

"I'm sorry, my lord," he gritted out, swallowing down his pride and the bitter taste the address left in his mouth alike.

"You shall be forgiven," he answered politely and paused before adding: "In due time. Ciri, come with me?"

This time he didn't stop her when she wriggled out of his grasp and ran over to their host. He felt miserable just sitting there as the door closed behind them. Still, he couldn't quite stop himself from listening when Ciri squealed: "You're cruel."

He almost didn't catch Jaskier's reply: "Probably. But did you see his face?"

Even four days after he couldn't get used to seeing Ciri with dark hair. She had returned a few hours later to him, her hair still wet from washing the excess dye out. Like that it looked so dark it might as well be black. But Jaskier had been right: dried, it resembled his own hair colour very much.

He couldn't forget the little exchange he had overheard between Jaskier and Ciri either. He tried to avoid the word ‘eavesdropping’ when thinking about it — that wasn't really what he had been doing. Normally, they waited until they were out of earshot, even a witcher’s, before they started talking. That time they hadn't. He couldn't very well shut his ears. Which meant that he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he had been supposed to hear it. But if that was the case, he couldn't figure out why.

He itched to ask them but he couldn't really do that. Because if he hadn't been supposed to hear that he had been eavesdropping — a crime Jaskier formerly would have punished with a light slap on his wrist and some silly moniker. 'Scamp', maybe, or 'rogue' or perhaps even 'scoundrel'. Now, however… And he couldn't ask Ciri either. In the best case, she'd tell him she couldn't tell him again. In the worst case she'd tell Jaskier.

He was mulling over that question again, watching Ciri out of the corner of his eye as she balanced on the railing of the gallery when his thoughts were interrupted by a loud shout: "Ci- Fiona!" Jaskier rushed out into the courtyard without so much as a cloak to protect him from the dropping temperatures and stared up at his child surprise in horror. "What are you-" He turned to Geralt, seething with anger. "What is she doing up there?"

"Training," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Training?!" his voice cracked. "What do you mean, training? I thought you were teaching her how to wield a sword!"

"And I thought you weren't watching," he replied before thinking the better of it.

"That is not the point! This is not teaching her how to wield a sword, witcher! This is dangerous! What if she falls?"

"She won't," he insisted stubbornly. He had her balance on all kinds of narrow paths before, though none of them in such heights. Only when she had mastered the previous paths had he allowed her up the railing.

"What if she does?"

"That's why I'm watching her," Geralt growled and moved to brush past him. He was no idiot. He wouldn't let her fall. "Get out of the way, bard, you're blocking my line of sight."

Jaskier didn't want to hear any of that: "Get her down from there, now!"

"Jas-"

"Now, witcher!"

"My lord-"

Jaskier yelped as Ciri stumbled and flailed with her arms. Geralt pushed past him, ready to catch his child surprise. A smug grin spread on his face as she regained her balance quickly. With agile movements she finished walking and came rushing down the stairs.

"Jaskier!" she exclaimed happily, skipping over to them. "Did you see me?"

The bard in question nodded, paler than a death shroud and gasping for air as if he had been the one stalking the balustrade. 'Always so dramatic,' he thought and rolled his eyes. "I did, darling, you did wonderful," Jaskier patted her on the shoulder and forced a smile.

"Look at what Geralt taught me yesterday!" Without hesitating she did a handstand and began walking on her hands before closing with a cartwheel. With rosy cheeks she turned to them. "Will you watch?"

"I-" Jaskier faltered. Geralt could see him agonising over it. 'Ha!' he thought smugly. 'He's as much under her charm as I am.' It would have warmed his heart if not for the stink of vinegar, infected wounds and peppers in the air. "Sure," Jaskier said finally. "For a bit."

Her face lit up as she turned back to Geralt. "Can I do the barrels next?"

He waved his hand in permission and watched her run off. "Barrels?" Jaskier gasped. "What barre- sweet Melitele have mercy!" The stench of vinegar was strong enough to make Geralt gag. "Does she do that all the time?"

"She does," he agreed and watched Ciri clamber up the barrels of ale that had been transported in a few days ago. They had quickly been included into their daily routine.

"What if she trips?"

"My lord," Geralt sighed heavily.

"Witcher."

"You have just seen her walk over a railing that is thinner than her feet are wide. She won't trip."

"Geralt!" Ciri called for their attention. "Jaskier! Look!" She was doing a handstand on the highest barrel now and Jaskier blanched again.

"Oh, no, child, that's-", he cried.

"Don't get cocky, now!" Geralt added. "Or else-"

"I'll become a prick like Lambert, I know," she answered and stood upright again. He did his best to ignore the pointed glare Jaskier gave him. "I'll just balance over here real quick- Shit!"

It happened far too quickly for either of them to react. Ciri's foot caught on something and then she stumbled into the four feet of thin air below her. By the time Geralt was running towards her she was already lying on the floor, clutching her right ankle tightly. Pride welled up inside him to see that no tears stained her cheeks. "Are you alright?" he asked and tried to scoop her up.

She cried in pain as he touched her, and now there were tears and he felt horrible. "It hurts!" she complained.

"I told you to be careful," he chided, "I told you not to get cocky!"

"Am I becoming a prick now?" she asked so earnestly that it made him laugh. "No!" she sobbed harder. "Don't laugh! It hurts!"

"I won't, I won't," he reassured her quickly, trying to regain his composure. "Show me where?"

He barely registered Jaskier shouting while Ciri pointed at her right ankle. And her right arm. And her right shoulder. Her whole right side basically.

"Borys, don't stare and make yourself useful!" the viscount bellowed, "Take a horse and go get Wera- No, you idiot! Take two horses! Marin!"

"Yes, my lord."

"I'll have these barrels removed! Now!"

"At once, my lord."

"You know what? I'll have any climbable structure that could pose a threat to a ten-year old child removed."

"The stables too, my lord?"

“The stables- I- No, of course not, you imbecile!”

“Just checking, my lord.”

"Marin."

"Yes, my lord?" There was a pause. Geralt imagined Jaskier giving Marin a very stern look but he was too busy checking for injuries to look up. "No jokes, understood. Alright men, you heard his lordship!"

Jaskier fell to his knees next to Geralt. "Ci- Fiona, my dear, how are you feeling?" he asked anxiously, the scent of vinegar spiking again.

"I'm fine," Ciri sniffled. "But my foot hurts."

"Yeah, I don't doubt that... You!" He pointed at a passing servant. "Bandages and cold water. Now!" Jaskier shooed Geralt off and turned back to Ciri, carefully peeling the sleeve of her tunic away. "Here, let me see- ohh, that doesn't look good."

She gasped. "What is it?"

He frowned deeply. "I fear we'll have to lop it off. There's just no saving it..."

She shrieked and giggled. "That's not true! Geralt, tell me that's not true!"

He did his best to maintain a straight face: "No, he's completely right. I've had griffin bites smaller than that."

"An infected wound is a serious business, little one," Jaskier added. "Best not take any risks."

"Yeah, with a scrape as bad as this... best take preemptive measures-"

She made a very rude gesture at them. "You're horrible." Geralt scoffed and to his surprise Jaskier snickered. He hadn't heard him laugh since their arrival. Ciri shoved both of them hard. Jaskier at least had the courtesy to fall over.

"Now that's not true," Geralt said as Jaskier answered: "Anything to make you laugh, darling girl."

"I hate you," she pouted, "both of you."

"Say that again and you're grounded for the rest of the week, young lady. Melitele knows you need the bedrest..."

"I'm fine!" Ciri insisted stubbornly and sprung to her feet to show it. Geralt was impressed that she didn't even wince.

"You are fine when Wera says you are. Sit down and wait here for her. I need to borrow my witcher for a bit."

She frowned. "But I'm not finished, yet!" she insisted.

"Yes, you are," Geralt agreed with Jaskier. "You can't fight like that."

"You do!" she replied and he cursed quietly.

"Another reason why I need a word with him," Jaskier said and stared at Geralt angrily. "You can continue tomorrow, dear child, if Wera allows it. This is important."

"Is this one of those grown-up talks?" She wrinkled her nose. "If so, I don't want to see that."

Jaskier took a shuddering breath. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, exactly. Marta!" He waved for the servant to come over. "Go and draw Fiona a bath, Melitele knows she needs one. And then you just... take the day off, hm? Read a bit. Or have Marta help you over to see Józefa. I believe she's almost done with the cartoon for her tapestry."

Ciri scowled at him before letting Marta support her in order to limp back to the South Wing, muttering ‘Grown-ups are weird’ as she went.

As soon as the door to the well house shut behind them, Jaskier turned to him, his voice sharp as razor blades: "My study," he ordered. "Now."

Geralt narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth but still he followed him when he turned back to the East Wing. The way up the stairs, spent in complete silence, was torture. Every step poisoned the air more with the horrid stench of vinegar-fear and peppery anger.

It made Geralt want to retch as an icy hand grasped his own heart. He knew the fiery taste of Jaskier's fury well enough. Usually it appeared on his behalf, not because of him. That alone was worrying, but the truly terrifying thing was the sour stench that came with panic. Jaskier never smelled of fear in his presence: not upon their first meeting, not when facing elves and djinns and angry Yennefers. Not even with the prospect of walking down a deadly mountain trail all on his own. 'What have I done that he fears me?' he asked himself. 'What have I done that he no longer feels safe in my presence?'

His thoughts were interrupted with the doors slamming shut behind him. "What were you thinking?" Jaskier shouted and the spice flared again. "Climbing barrels, Geralt? Really? Were you even thinking, you absolute idiot?"

"I am training her," Geralt answered simply.

"You were endangering her!" He whipped around, his chest heaving heavily. "You're supposed to keep her out of harm's way, not thrust her in it!"

"Calm down. She only twisted her ankle. That happens all the time."

"And scraped her whole arm open! And her side probably, too! She could have broken something!"

"But she hasn't. She was just overexcited because you were watching. Normally she knows to be careful."

"She is a ten-year-old girl, Geralt! She has no sense of self-preservation."

"Funny, hearing that from you."

Jaskier scoffed and crossed his arms. "That doesn't matter right now. You can't have her climbing unstable barrels and balancing fourteen feet above the ground! She could die if she fell!"

"You're exaggerating. The railing's not fourteen feet high."

"For once in my life I am not! Fuck, Geralt, sometimes I wonder if you have a conception of humans at all. She's a child, not a witcher!"

"At Kaer Morhen-" he tried.

"We are not at Kaer Morhen!" Jaskier interrupted him. "Haven't you noticed? We are not there because the mere way up there is deadly to humans when it is too cold! You are in Lettenhove for precisely that reason! And as the lord of this castle, I will not tolerate it!"

He crossed his arms and scoffed. "Are you now going to tell me how to train her?"

Jaskier's face was unmoving, his voice cold as stone: "Precisely."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You are being dramatic, my lord."

"No. No, I am not! Have you seen her bruises? I think there is not a single unmarked spot on her body! I don't even know how she can sleep at night!"

"Children are resilient. Besides, a few bruises don't harm anyone."

"Yes, they do!" There was the slightest quiver in Jaskier's voice that made Geralt falter. "Not everyone is like you and likes getting beat up!"

"She'll be fine," he said a bit more cautiously. "Everyone who learns how to fight goes through that. They all come around."

"No, they don't!" Jaskier's voice broke weakly, a broken sob ripping free of him that made him want to come closer and flee at the same time. "I didn't! I hate it! I hated it as a child and I hate it now and I will always hate it! Do not do the same to her!"

Geralt stared at Jaskier. What else was there he could do while the tears fell helplessly, staining his cheeks and dripping on his silken doublet. "I'm sorry," Geralt said finally, still trying to process his words. Now that he came to think of it, that was probably the most Jaskier had ever revealed to him about his life before leaving for Oxenfurt. Melitele’s tits, he hadn’t even been aware that Lettenhove was in Redania until recently. It was a shocking realisation, that he didn’t know anything about Jaskier’s childhood at all. "I didn't mean to, Jas-"

“‘I didn't mean to, my lord,’" he spat and turned away, "Get that into that thick head of yours already." The scent of spicy anger and salty-teared sadness was thick in the air.

"My lord," he tried again, tentatively reaching out, but Jaskier only recoiled even more.

"Go away," he murmured, his voice thick with tears, "I don't want to see you anymore."

Geralt tensed. He wanted nothing more than to make it better, to take his words back, quell the tears and smother the scent that reeked like a dusty mountaintop littered with corpses. 'I'm just trying to figure out what pleases me.' Maybe- "It would please me-"

"But it wouldn't please me!" Jaskier snapped. "Leave already!"

He hesitated for a few heartbeats, hoping that Jaskier would change his mind. He didn't. "Right," Geralt said quietly. "As my lord commands." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Not knowing what else to do, Geralt crossed over to the South Wing again to see if Ciri was alright. But as soon as he opened the door to Ciri's room, he heard a decided: "Out!" The old healer sat on the bed with Ciri, fussing over her injuries - to his shame, they looked a lot worse than he had anticipated.

"I just-" he began, but Wera interrupted him: "No. Out. You can see her when I am done."

He quickly glanced at Ciri, who smiled encouragingly. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll be fine."

"Fine," he muttered, and walked out of the room again. This day was not going as he had planned it.

He was still scowling when he reached the courtyard again, where they were still busy stowing away anything Ciri could climb. He snarled and moved to turn away, when he heard a familiar voice behind him: "So," Marin said, "you're an idiot. That's a surprise."

"What?" he snapped and whipped around. "I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. Because his lordship's right. That was bloody dangerous."

He snarled and turned away, pacing as vinegar filled the air around him. He didn't need another one telling him what to do. It had been fine until Jaskier had put his nose in places where it didn't belong.

"Geralt." He forced himself to still at Marin's firm voice behind him and grunted. "You're scaring the folks."

"I know," he growled, "I can smell it. Nothing I can do about it, is there?"

The Captain of the Guard shrugged. "Well, you could stop growling at everyone who walks past you. Grab an axe and finish that tree you massacred. Kill a monster or two. Spar with me."

"There're no monsters in Lettenhove," he answered.

"No, there's not. But I've heard news from Saltwall. That's a town a day and a half's ride from here. Apparently, they are having trouble with some necrophages or something."

He wanted to snap that that could mean anything but thought the better of it. "I don't have my armour. Or my sword."

Marin blinked stupidly. "What do you mean? Hasn't his lordship told you? They were brought in from Goldfurt four days ago."

Now it was Geralt who blinked. "No. He hasn't."

He shrugged. "I'll have it sent to your room. You go and look after Lady Fiona now. Wera will be done by now."

"Hmm," Geralt made and turned back to the South Wing. Before he could go inside, he said: "Thanks." He didn't wait for an answer. Instead he just rushed up the stairs, taking two steps at once.

Marin had the right of it; when he opened the door to Ciri's room, the old healer was gone. It was just the princess on the bed, reading a book. "How's princess Isabella the Brave?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I read that yesterday, Geralt. This one's about Sir Bartel the Strong."

"My apologies," he said quickly. He had long given up trying to keep track of the various heroes the novels dealt with — he had no doubts that she would have made her way through the entire collection before midwinter. He poked her in her side and made her squirm. "How's this princess, then?"

"I'm fine," she assured him and giggled. "My ankle has almost stopped hurting."

"And the arm? Still attached to your shoulder, I see."

Ciri stuck out her tongue. "All bandaged up. And the salve stinks."

“Hmm,” he made. "Then it helps."

"That's what Wera said, too! Is that another stupid grown-up thing?"

He smiled a bit. "Probably. I-"

There was a knock on the door that made both of them jump. "Come in!" Ciri called.

The door opened to reveal one of the younger guardsmen in Jaskier's employ. "I, uh- Marin told me to bring this to you, Sir Witcher."

Geralt raised his eyebrows in amusement and snorted when he saw the boy struggling with the pack of armour and the silver sword in his arms. He stood and strode over to him, relieving him of his heavy burden. "Thanks. That'll be all," he said and shut the door in his face.

Gently he placed the armour on the floor — it was even polished — and passed his fingers over the new scabbard of his sword. With one swift stroke he pulled it free, turning to see the blade gleaming in the sunlight. It was marvellously crafted, not a single unevenness to be found. 'It must've cost him a fortune,' he thought stunned.

Ciri's voice ripped him back to the present: "You're leaving, aren't you?"

He sighed. He had planned to be sensible about this. That was no use now. "For a while."

She turned back to her book. "I understand," she said. "You can't train me now anyways. Just be back as soon as I can walk again."

"I will be back far sooner than that," he promised her.

"That's good. Will you stay with me this evening?"

"Sure." He sat down on a chair beside her. "What do you want to do?"

"There are some games in the nightstand that Jaskier gave me."

He nodded and pulled one of the boards out. Following her instructions, he began setting up the pieces as he tried to remember the complicated rules she told him. In the end he lost most of the times they played, but at least it had made Ciri laugh.

He and Ciri didn't attend dinner, and neither did Jaskier, as he discovered when he went looking for him afterwards. "His lordship has already turned in for the night hours ago," Janina told him coldly when he found her and her sister in the fireplace room.

"He doesn't wish to be disturbed," Józefa added in the same tone. "By you."

Geralt hunched his shoulders and retreated out of the room. He wasn't particularly looking forward to talking to Jaskier, especially not when his company was obviously unwanted. On the other hand, he'd rather get out of the castle sooner than later. So, he ignored the warning and climbed the stairs to the lord's chambers.

He took a steadying breath and rasped his knuckles on the door. "Come in." He pushed it open and stepped inside. Jaskier looked better now. His hair was still damp from bathing and he smelt of bath salts and chamomile tea. He was dressed in nothing but a green silk robe, sitting on his bed with some report or another. He normally only looked that relaxed when he had spent a night in a lover’s embrace. The room didn't smell of sex, though, and Geralt wasn't sure if he was surprised or relieved.

Jaskier barely looked up when Geralt stepped inside nor did he make any attempt to hide his bare chest from view. He did, however, pull at a few strands of his hair to try and hide his bloodshot eyes. Something in his stomach tightened. 'Now that's not fair.'

"Witcher?" Jaskier prompted.

'Ah. Still cross at me.' He cleared his throat. "My lord, there's a contract in the area."

"And?"

"I'm going to take it."

He hummed quietly, flipping his page over. "Maybe. If you ask nicely."

He suppressed a sigh. "Do I have your leave to take this contract, my lord?" After a while he added: "If it might please you."

The paper crumpled loudly in Geralt's ears when Jaskier gripped it tighter. “It doesn’t,” he said curtly and took his time reading the page. Then, he spoke up again: "I'll consider it."

With a frustrated huff he turned his back. It was no use arguing with Jaskier when he was angry.

"How long will you be?"

Geralt stopped in his tracks. "It isn't far from here. Saltwall, Marin said. Four days, maybe five."

The flipping of another page. "You leave at sunrise tomorrow, witcher. Take a horse that might suit your needs." There was a tiny pause. "Don't you dare be late."

A smile curled around his lips at the indignation in his voice. 'Missed you, Jaskier.' "I won't, my lord,” he promised. “Sleep well."

He closed the door behind him, the clicking of the lock nearly drowning out Jaskier's whisper: "Sleep well, my witcher. Return to me soon."

[malaysiankpopfans]

8 BURNING QUESTIONS WE HAVE BEFORE THE UNCANNY COUNTER ENDS

Can’t believe the first season is almost over!

The Uncanny Counter is entrancing viewers with its marvelous world where demon hunters capture evil spirits using their special abilities. From the unique story to the heartwarming relationships and the exciting action, it’s no surprise how popular the series is. With only two episodes left, there are some burning questions we have. Check them out below.

1. Who will win when Baek Hyang-hui and Do Ha-na face off?

Baek Hyang-hui (Ok Ja-yeon) and Do Ha-na (Kim Se-jeong) had a pretty fierce fight when they first met inside an elevator. At the end of episode 14, Hyang-hui taunts Ha-na and breaks her staff. Hyang-hui provoked Ha-na by talking about whether she should kill all of the Counters or kill all of them except Ha-na, poking at her survivor’s guilt. Hyang-hui has some screws loose, but she is definitely an intriguing villain. Can’t wait to see a final fight between them!

2. Will Shin Hyeok-u help So Mun?

Shin Hyeok-u (Jung Won-chang) started out bullying So Mun (Cho Byeong-kyu), but he’s no longer the top dog after his father is accused of murder. So Mun helps Hyeok-u when his former friends are beating him up and demanding money. However, Hyeok-u is too proud to thank So Mun. Hyeok-u noticed that his father changed, but refused to help So Mun. Will Hyeok-u change his mind and help So Mun later? Is it too much to hope the two of them can be friends someday?

3. How does Son Ho-jun’s character play into all of this?

The preview at the end of episode 14 teased a cameo from actor Son Ho-jun. Son Ho-jun is making a special appearance due to having worked with director You Sun-dong before. So Mun encounters Oh Jeong-gu (Son Ho-jun) and they ask each other if they are Counters. Jeong-gu has the trademark curly hair, so all he needs is a red tracksuit. Our theory? He might be a Counter from a different country, but it’ll be interesting to see how he can potentially help them defeat Shin Myeong-hwi (Choi Guang-il). 

4. Will the Counters be able to defeat Ji Cheong-sin/Shin Myeong-hwi?

Ji Cheong-sin (Lee Hong-nae) proved to be a very difficult demon to capture as he killed his host and went on to enter Shin Myeong-hwi. The Counters tried to take down Shin Myeong-hwi, but the evil spirit already knew their tactics. With one of the special staff broken, the Counters need a brand new plan. Unfortunately, Shin Myeong-hwi is becoming more and more powerful as he devours more souls and regains energy. How will the Counters overtake him?

5. Will So Mun be able to meet his parents?

Since Ji Cheong-sin died, it remains unclear what happened to all the souls the demon devoured. This is an agonizing situation for So Mun who desperately wants to meet his parents again. There is hope that summoning the demon out of Shin Myeong-hwi will release all the souls, including that of So Mun’s parents. Hopefully So Mun will be able to meet his parents by the end. Heads up from us: better get some tissues prepared!

6. Will the Counters be able to meet Cheol-jung again?

Speaking of a tearful reunion, the Counters are hoping to meet Cheol-jung as well. Since he was So Mun’s predecessor, the Counters have a history with him and they were so heartbroken over his death in episode 1. Cheol-jung helped save lives as a Counter, so he also deserves to rest peacefully in the afterlife. Lots of teary reunions ahead!

7. Will there be romance between Chu Mae-ok and Choi Jang-mul?

Choi Jang-mul (Ahn Seok-hwan) has been a bit obvious about his feelings for Chu Mae-ok (Yeom Hye-ran). Ms. Chu has been rebuffing his flirty advances, but it seems like she might be interested in him as well. They have known each other for a while, having worked together as Counters before. It would be cute to see a little bit of a silver romance.

8. Will there be romance between So Mun and Ha-na?

Perhaps another romance highly anticipated by fans is one between So Mun and Ha-na. So Mun’s crush is quite adorable, the boy even drew a heart when writing about her special ability in episode 2. So Mun’s still a high school student, so Ha-na might not be eager to start a romance. However, she keeps up with the ruse of her being his girlfriend in front of So Mun’s grandparents. Even if a romance doesn’t work out this season, maybe we can see one in the next season?

What questions do you have? Don’t miss out on the final episodes of The Uncanny Counter this Saturday and Sunday at 11PM, only on Netflix!

[cavernovs]

FLESH & BLOOD.

Impromptu Self-Para, ft. @ilbuia​ Jakoris & Scarlett Davenport Manor, Basement.  Word Count: 2.5K + (Voluntary read)

Triggers: mutilation tw, violence tw, NSFW tw, blood and mild gore descriptions tw, toxicity tw.

Underneath flesh lies an infection; a virus formed of magic where dead cells suffer under its own insatiable desire to destroy. Endless it seems is the need where it demonstrates something more than an ordinary pestilence. Jakoris in chains; a method to disavow the spread of such a monster, stop it before it becomes all consuming and leaves only a shell of a beast; a creature that tears apart all in some prerequisite to devour. A virus that’s been reborn in a murderous form; reprograms the functions of the body to instead kill itself and behind it leaves more than apoptosis; a being that cannot be killed by the most mundane forms; The Ripper. The Davenport’s danger to himself and those around him, profound. He knows why he’s there, bound like an animal. The darkness doesn’t hide the man from his own histories, a basement a little too familiar, though, a voraciousness he’s never quite known before.

Never known before powerful magics invaded him at the hands of the High Sage. A replay of memories roll; it’s all he can do in such restrictions, think about his complete loss of control; consider the attack he posed upon his return; the ones he left in pieces on the streets, unrecognisable appendages discarded like rotten meat. It still hadn’t been enough, the nails that rake down his throat, leave ghostly punctures from within. If only there to encourage the Davenport to release all tendrils of whatever is left of him to retain.

The chains rattle when he shifts, a penetrating sound of the door creaking at the other end of the room. Leaves him with the aide-mémoire of why he has to be there; slumped like a lost warrior against the basement wall. Doesn’t stop the predatory eyes from finding the form that obscures the artificial light broken in from the open doorway. Streams in and causes the vampire to squint at the new presence.

SJ’s the last of all his figurations; he knows what he did to her, recalls that vicious attack as if it were only minutes ago. Understands that whilst he’s unforgiving in what he did; it’s a foolish move to send the little vamp in a room with him. Shadows from lack of light cast over the man and strange shapes made clear only by the way fangs glint of the new beams of light; faux and make evident the bloodstains that deface clothes. Soaked is the cotton on his torso, stained deep with a maroon where it’s dried and left him sticky; a discomfort that’s nothing in comparison to the urge that brings him to want to lunge at Scar. Binds the hinderance even an off-kilter man recognises wouldn’t break no matter how strong he thinks he is in that moment.

He doesn’t want her there. Prefers the solace of isolation, at least removes the temptation from being there just out of reach. Like dangling something sweet in front of him and refusing to let him have it, because even if Jack’s aware no matter what he chases he cannot stop the magic the High Sage has riddled deep into his core, she’s better than nothing at all.

It’s formed of desire that way Jakoris is on his feet again, teeth bared at the woman who’s made clear in teasing words that she’s there to play babysitter. An irony where she’s a child herself.

Well, I certainly never thought babysitting you would be on my list of duties.

“Then cross it off and get out,”

That’s how it started, rousing one another; venom so harsh that becomes a contradiction to itself. Jack’s mind doesn’t have the niggle that tells him, stop, the whisper in his mind that’s usually the level on his control, the one that wills him to remain in power. It’s hidden in everything he says, until she kept pushing. Maintains her distance against the man contained, stays aware where most might not – doesn’t let him take her so easily.

But she does let him, eventually.

One broken neck later and a darkening mind that can silver-tongue the manipulator.

She even changed his clothes whilst he slept.

“Enjoying the view now? How kind of you to leave me with some dignity,”

I much preferred the view without them, but I figured I’d play nice.

“Why’d you put them back on then?”

I shouldn’t have.

Words the weapons that clawed hands cannot be when steel grows tighter around Jack’s wrists; a captive in his own home, mercilessly taunted; teased by a woman he’s got no interest in. Only works to grind the cogs in his mind, she never gave him a shirt back in his impromptu defeat and the dark red smears that are sunken into his skin bury in the crevasses of his stomach discolour him like he might never get the crimson off. He deserves everything he gets. Even in the twisted mind of the Ripper, he wonders if she’s there because of what he did; an interest that’s formed of something primitive; an object of desire neither knew of. Jack’s tongue still picks up on the remnants of her blood; craves anything that might offer a reprise from the agony that the virulent parasite reaps on his body. Saps all the energy from him. Only knows to retrieve it from anything that teeth can bury in, that he can entomb himself in; she’s got all of that in front of him.

And he’s never considered Scarlett as that. But there’s a lot of firsts that come from a bitter witch’s spells.

There’s a game being played; chess the closest comparison to anything tangible. Every move they each make isn’t physical; nothing that lets Jack near her to let the beast play with the rules he’s prepared to break. She never listened to him coaxing her back out the room; almost lost beneath the warring of his mind split into two. But he’s not sure he wants her to leave anymore. A philosophical-like need to dig fangs into her once more, if only as a distraction; an excuse that isn’t the plummeting thoughts of how his body refuses to listen; to synchronise.

That’s how his mind begins to gutterball. There’s some rationality in the young vampire when she refuses to cave to his return provocations, forged truths that border a throwback to earlier that day.

“If you were afraid; if you never liked what I did to you, you’d have refused to come into this room, Scar.”

It’s a thought that’s spoken with such a victory that Jakoris’ pull on the restraints feel like they might break as though a code has been cracked. That from within the echoes of the dark they’re in, two sides of sanity – he figures, it’s a foul snarl of impatience almost, a captured vampire that balances on the threshold of his own thoughts. The younger version; potentially as broken as he is, tries to fix herself with something else even more broken.

So what, you think I’m back for more?

“I think you’re looking for something little vamp,”

The throwaway, bitten out through suppressed hunger when the walls feel like they’re closing in, that SJ’s the only thing left within them that matters in the grand scheme. Ideas of Evanora and Jessie out in the fray looking for answers to his affliction long crushed by the hiss of a man deteriorating; becoming heated by consistent taunts. It’s never been obvious to Jack until now that Scar’s as good at the game as Jack thought he was.

Only, she’s not got physical chains holding her back from acting on it.

Until, she suddenly does.

The Davenport never realised how much he missed the sensation of something else than hunger, Scar’s teeth in his throat like she’s finally decided to place his King in check leaves her in close enough proximity that a re-enactment of de ja vu flickers when he returns the favour and with a need he hates to admit is there, digs his own into her. It’s another bout of intimacy, stirs another kind of consciousness to the brink of overflowing. Lust forged from a blood exchange; the aphrodisiac that’s often addictive. Hardens muscles, incites Jack want to curl hands around her, touch her like she’s his if only for his own satisfaction – to balance the pain with the pleasure like he’s all too good at. If only for one evening; in a state of weakness.

Another thing he loathes about the room beyond the surface level of what it means, is how SJ irrevocably has the power over him by default. If he hadn’t been wrestled into chains, if being a word he can’t exactly enjoy in that moment. Not like how Scarlett crumbles to the one they’re playing and he can utilise the rage; the lack of control against someone who claims they can handle it.

The intimacy is broken when she retracts, lingers only in the way that her tongue leaves wet trails on his skin, laps up his blood where hers spills down his chin and leaves droplets on the concrete floor. Messy where he’s unable to govern the actions of the other. Jakoris’ head tips, dares her in a way that he’s not sure of the result, eyes flickering to the chain

“Unlock it Scar,” I fucking dare you. Offers the game with new stakes.

You know I can’t let you leave Jack…I never thought you’d taste so good, can I trust you, Jack?

Could she fuck.

“Probably not, but you really fucking want to,”

The way the tune changes on her side, the way she’s so confident to play the line of fire; dangle the victory flag and poke the viper until it bites. Jack sees that in the hues of her eyes; he’s not sure what lies hidden beyond, but the hands that fall on the chain is his own kind of conquest. And she releases him. A kind of dark chuckle that slips from his lips when she does, is fast enough to wrap around her throat and draw her to it. The consideration of how dangerous she wanted to play; with rules that have been crossed out and replaced with blood and flesh as the only notable pieces on the board, he squeezes her throat. It’s a fleeting image that passes his mind, the idea of just popping it off her spine, snapping it as some childish revenge to how she’d done it to him earlier; left him groaning and agonised as to make some lost point of valour.

Though she’s sacrificed her control and given it back to him; the Ripper that’s got next to none in that moment, but enough to at least choose distraction over the urge to simply tear the woman to pieces. He can do that after he’s done with her. Like her skin under his grip is a tease of its own, when he drags her forward, near makes his half naked body flush against her own, fangs raking down her lobe to follow the line of her chin, the urge to clench his jaw, puncture her like a snake almost wins against the desire that instead pulls him to her lips.

Then he draws blood, lower lip his where he finds an escape that isn’t the one that released him entirely from the prison he’s in; the room; his mind; the parts of his body that want something else completely.

“Take them off Scar,” A delay against her lips, a demand that’s primal. “Now,”

You’re not even gonna say please, Jack? What should I take off first?

Everything plays into his hand from then.

The hooded lids that find her face again, darkens when her hands ghost over his abdomen; run that theme of tease the monster that she’s been adamant to play all evening. And she’s probably still unaware what that leads to, the kind of thing that makes Jack stop understanding the word no and how Scarlett’s lost every opportunity she had to run out that door, because he’s not letting go.

“I’m going to ruin you, Scar.”

The kind of aptitude that drills deep; comes from the way she’s spent her duty as supervisor instead torturing him. The masochist who only feeds that fire with everything his mind allows.

I hope that’s a promise Jack.

If he cared to speak, to continue the toying, he’d have let the words: Oh you’ve no idea, baby, pass his lips when he drags his hand down her, lets her obey his order like submission is finally where she belongs. That she never quite understood the power she once had before she gave it away. On a fucking platter and let him reign over her body like she wants to be torn apart. Her antagonising implies as much, if not more.

Clothes are the first things to vanish, shredded by strong hands and there’s exposure between them both. A tension of bodies at war, one half free to play as the underdog of the battle; of lips, of skin of every time their teeth find a new unblemished spot on pale flesh. Stain it red as though the colour of their desire cannot be anything but. The same association as rage, cracking of bones where masochism hits its limitations; healed fast where fingers works rhythms in places that incite moans that in a vampire’s household, are probably heard if anyone’s fucking listening. And yet, the way blood spills onto the floor, decorates the basement like it’s paint on renovation is all that matters. Teeth on flesh, backs on hard floors, fucks in a way Jakoris could never with anyone mortal.

But Scar heals, and she knows it.

Jack doesn’t recover quite the same – because nothing he takes besides her body fuels him like it should, the weakening of joints that only enrage a ferality in him to go harder to compensate. The wounds she leaves on him, enjoyed in a sick way that leave him with a feeling that overpowers his hunger for nourishment; replaces it with a yearning for her that he can’t shake. And like hell does he care to understand it. The Davenport keeps his promise, leaves her in her own mess, by the third round; a hat trick, he’s beginning to notice the falter in both of them, that each other’s blood isn’t anything more than a turn-on, doesn’t satiate the vampire’s primordial needs to their core.

The rooms in disrepair, red more than grey; glows almost in the darkness of them, Scarlett’s skin shredded and healing, potentially to leave scars. Heavy rise and falls of chests that are heard between satisfied noises that are involuntary, still tight against each other when Jack’s last restriction allows; only imagines what could have been had he been completely free. Then comes the final plummet – after the rest of the countless comings, where Jakoris’ mind cannot process the pain with the pleasure and the hunger starts to viral it’s way back up his veins to pull the thick cords at his jaw. He can’t take anymore from her; he’ll kill her. That whisper of a voice screams at him, but it’s not loud enough.

The sound of footsteps outside the basement door, partnered with the final thrust given that near ceases the vampire fucking in some heated rage; a complicated partnership purely forged of magic and need; distractions and everything that systems the addiction of becoming caught up in a vampiric haze. Jakoris’ hands on Scar’s body, the marks left and the way they pant like animals loose; leaves everything but the carcasses all over the room, fluids that Jack’s likely to be left in when she goes.

Because she has to go and he knows that; the footsteps echo loud and like a desperate creature about to lose its prey, he digs his nails into her to stop her from running.

In their positions, she’s undoubtedly stronger, for once; the little vampire has a strength over the Ripper that can’t find satisfaction in feeding, no matter how hard he tries. And she does tear from him, stumbles where he notes how their legs near buckle under limbs exhausted and like it’s some loss for them all, Jack crashes to his knees, another crack resounds off the walls where Scar manages to catch herself before anything else breaks, a desperation in both their breaths where naked bodies dyed in each other’s blood; torn epithelium from one another’s teeth as they once hunted for that need.

It’s nothing in comparison in the way rabid eyes snap to the door when it moves with someone’s shadow casting a shape below it.

And Jack still wants blood. 

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 10: CHILDREN OF MAH

QUEST SUMMARY:

The Mahjarrat are dying, and they want answers as to why. To get them, they must journey back to Freneskae at the behest of Zaros, who promises them freedom from their Rituals once and for all. When Zamorak gets wind of his intentions, it leads to the two deities meeting for the first time since the great betrayal…

CHAPTER 5 - ARISE HERO

Jahaan’s first stop inside Menaphos was a trip to the Merchant’s bank, hoping he had enough coins stored away to afford the deposit on a room. Since leaving the Imperial Guard, a fair chunk of his money seemed to disappear all too quickly, and he couldn’t even remember where it went. Still, there seemed to be enough left over for a room in the Worker District, if he wasn’t picky about location or square footage. Realising that he no longer needed the shieldbow that he’d banked months ago, Jahaan decided to sell it once he got himself settled, alongside the arrows that accompanied it.

However, it turned out that Jahaan had vastly overestimated what he could afford. He knew he’d end up somewhere in the Worker District, but a tiny room in a shared house with eight other renters was something else entirely. It was a small cupboard of a room with a shabby bed frame, a badly knocked together bedside table and a rug as old as Jahaan was. There was just enough room to store his armour in a heap in the free corner, once he decided to get it out of the bank, but not enough room to maneuver beyond getting from the bed to the door. There was also no shared kitchen - no kitchen at all. Just a communal cooking pit outside.

--- It’s your fault he’s dead ---

Still, Jahaan didn’t plan to spend much time locked up in his miniature abode. While rest and recuperation were high on his list of priorities, Jahaan still needed to make money to pay rent, and he still needed to eat. No subsidies for the broken warriors. But fishing was something that Jahaan enjoyed, that he could make money from, and it was hardly anything Gaw’kara could get angry at him about. He fished enough to eat and then sold the rest to the local tavern for a fraction of what they were worth. Due to the supply coming in from the Ports District, it was the only way to get money for them. It was enough to keep up the rent for the little room he was staying in, at least. Once Jahaan’s ribs healed enough and he regained some mobility, he took up a low-paying job working in the clay mines in the Worker’s District. With the heavy sun relentlessly beating down on him every day, Jahaan reckoned he must have lost a stone’s worth of weight in sweat alone. But it helped to recover some core strength in his once-broken bones.

Jahaan lived frugally, saving every extra penny of his salary once rent had been paid, and catching his own dinner in the stream near the mines. What was he saving up for? Runes. Lots and lots of runes.

--- Did you really think there wouldn’t be consequences? ---

When he wasn’t at work, Jahaan was training, focusing on recovering his dual-wielded swordsmanship form. That, or practising the Ancient Magicks with whatever runes he could afford. Runes required for those spells were expensive and hard to come by, so he had to make every second of training count, as they ran out before long. While he made a fair chunk of change from the shieldbow and arrows he sold, Jahaan decided that money wasn’t for training purposes. Instead, he’d use that money to buy some of the runes he’d take into Sliske’s endgame.

Keeping busy - always working, always training… it was how Jahaan kept himself sane. Gods knew it was a struggle, especially in the beginning. Once the numbness wore off and he realised that he had to try and live his life now, a life where his best friend had been ripped from him…

...There were nights when Jahaan found himself quite content with the idea of drinking himself to death.

But he refused to give into the darkness inside his mind. He let himself cave once, when Cyrius was killed. That descent led him to the Imperial Guard, after a long and painful fall. But now? Now Jahaan knew he didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. Not while Sliske still drew breath.

One of the first things he bought upon renting his room was a small chalk set. There, on one of his walls, he marked out a tally. Rows upon rows of tally marks, the exact amount of days until the eclipse that would signal the end to Sliske’s game. As the days passed, he crossed out the tallies, charting the time until the final confrontation.

--- What’s your soul even worth to you? ---

Though he rarely left the vicinity of the stream, the mines and his home, one day Jahaan did take a stroll down to the Ports District, and out into the crowded and cramped neighbourhood he grew up in. It took Jahaan a lot of time to reorient himself as the area had been greatly developed since he left, but eventually he found the street he grew up on and, finally, his old house.

Jahaan didn’t know what to expect, but if he really thought about it, this was it. The small abode had been repainted a brilliant white with the roof retiled. A nice allotment in the front garden. A football in the yard. As he walked past, he saw children in the dining room, and the silhouette of a woman in the background.

A new, happy family now lived in his old home. If his uncle still lived in Menaphos was questionable, but Jahaan had no intention of tracking him down, though he hoped the man was still around somewhere. He should only be in his sixties, after all. No doubt if he went down to the docks or his uncle’s favourite tavern he could find him there without much digging.

But that wasn’t why he was back in Menaphos, so he let the thought slip from his mind.

He had no time for family reunions. He had work to do.

Namely, to continue his training.

--- It might not have been so bad, being a wight. Eternal life… ---

The Ancient Magicks were vital in the fight against Sliske. It was the only way to attempt to level the playing field. There was no point in learning shadow magick - Sliske was a master and nothing Jahaan could do would ever come close to his ability. It would be like trying to stop a landslide with a picket fence.

Blood magick interested him the most, namely because of some of the crueler spells the book hinted at. Theoretically, one could control the blood inside of another person, or at least blood that came from an open wound. Pulling the blood out slowly could feel like you’re ripping someone apart from the inside out.

Jahaan quite liked the idea of that one. In fact, a lot of nights Jahaan sent himself to sleep by imagining every little injury he wanted to inflict upon Sliske.

Jahaan never thought of himself as a cruel person - until now, that is.

--- He’ll never forgive you now ---

With that in mind, Jahaan spent most of his time practising blood magick spells. Of course, they had common barrage and blast variants too. Smoke was something he’d learned a few spells of already, so he improved his knowledge of that in case the opportunity arose. When it came to ice magick, Jahaan didn’t spend much time in that department. He didn’t want to become Jack of all trades, master of none. No, a collection of decent, hard-hitting spells to defend himself against Sliske was what he needed.

That, and a miracle or two.

When Wahisietel made it back to his humble abode in Nardah, he took a moment to embrace the calm, the quiet… while he’d only been on Freneskae a few hours, it was enough time to make him desperately miss the serenity of Gielinor. But so much had happened, too much to wrap his head around right now. He needed to relax, and decided the best way to do that was to pull out the bottle of whiskey he’d been saving in the bottom of his desk drawer. What he’d been saving it for was a bit of a mystery, but the continued survival of his race and the reassurance of immortality seemed to be fitting enough. It was a fine bottle too, a gift he received from Azzanadra back in the days of the Empire. To say it had aged was an understatement. Whiskey was always a weakness for Wahisietel. He rarely indulged in fancy foods, but a good drink was worth the hassle of getting it out of his system later.

Pouring it into his favourite tumbler, Wahisietel lit up a pipe and reclined into his armchair, allowing the stresses of the day to free themselves from his mind...

...Until he felt it.

Exhaling sharply, Wahisietel downed the first measure in one go and placed his pipe on the table, walking up to the door to wait for the inevitable knock. He shifted into his human form, lest his human neighbours see him undisguised.

After one little tap on the door, Wahisietel swung it open, glaring at the uninvited guest. “Sliske.”

Sliske smiled back at him, cloaked in a human’s form, jet-black hair and a formal-looking shirt. “Brother!” he cheered. “It’s been too long, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not long enough,” Wahisietel gruffly nodded his head, indicating for Sliske to come inside. As soon as he did, Wahisietel shut and locked the door, transforming back into his Mahjarrat form. Sliske wasted no time in doing the same, stretching out the kinks in his neck. “You’re looking rather… well,” Sliske began, an insinuation in his tone. “A good day then?”

“No need to play coy, Sliske,” Wahisietel poured himself another drink. “Why are you here?”

“So hostile!” Sliske teased, draping himself over the couch as he did so. “I came for the gossip, naturally. So, who bit the dust this time?”

A suspicion confirmed. “So you DID feel the pull.”

“I did, but I felt it would be best to not RSVP to that particular get-together,” Sliske remarked, “I hardly believe I would have been Mr Popularity.”

Wahisietel had assumed as much. “A wise move, but what I want to know is, why didn't you degrade with the rest of us?”

“I could answer that,” Sliske replied with a raise of his eyebrows. “But I feel you have a theory of your own, brother.”

Wahisietel nodded, curtly. “The Stone is holding you together.”

“Holding me together sounds so desperate,” Sliske waved a hand theatrically. “I feel we have a symbiotic relationship. After all, I'm finally getting some good use out of the thing.”

Sitting up, Sliske propped his chin on his hands and grinned wryly. “So, who should I cross off my Wintumber card list this year, hm?”

“Mah.”

At this, Sliske’s interest was piqued. So Wahisietel relented and relayed the incredibly cut down version of events. He was just too exhausted to give a play-by-play of what happened on Freneskae, and frankly, his half-brother’s joviality was grating on him more than usual. But more than that, Wahisietel was worried. Not that he’d let Sliske know, but it was his antics that were causing Wahisietel to lose sleep at night. Now that he’d missed a Ritual - the final Ritual, no less - Wahisietel was sure that such an action would not go without consequences.

After the tale was finished, Sliske leaned back on the couch, stroking his chin in contemplation. “Well, I certainly missed a shindig, didn’t I?

Sliske might have been content embracing his casual and suave facade, but Wahisietel had had enough. “What is your endgame here, Sliske? You betray Zaros, have every major deity in Gielinor after your blood, and you made an enemy of the World Guardian you claim to-” he shook his head, his own frustrations catching up to him. “I just cannot see the plan in all this.”

Sliske chuckled. “I do so hate parting with information. Knowledge is power, after all.”

“Sliske, I’m serious,” his tone had an edge of pleading about it. “You must be able to see that you are in over your head. I can help you. We can get through this together, like we always have.”

Even Sliske’s jovial mask softened slightly. “Dear brother, you needn’t worry about me. It’s all part of the plan, after all.”

“Plans, plans…” Wahisietel muttered, clenching his teeth. “And what would happen if all your plans fell apart and you were finally cornered?”

“All my plans?” a familiar sparkle twinkled in Sliske’s eyes. “Why brother, it is as if you do not know me at all. There is always another plan.”

After crossing out another tally on his wall chart, Jahaan knew it was nearly time. The eclipse was only five days away now. Five days until either he died, or Sliske did.

Runes had been collected in their hundreds, swords had been sharpened and armour had been buffed. Jahaan’s ribs were as close to fully healed as he could get. The same went for the rest of his injuries, though his nose hadn’t mended quite as nicely as he had hoped. Still, that was cosmetic only - nothing to worry about.

Jahaan was ready. Ready for the fight of his life, ready for his death. Whatever Sliske’s endgame would throw at him, he could handle, or so he kept telling himself. He needed to stay alive long enough to watch Sliske suffer. He needed to avenge Ozan’s fate. He needed to stop the voices in his head…

So after taking one last look at the chalk marks on his wall, Jahaan began to dress himself in his armour, equipping his swords to his hip and attaching the rune pouch to his belt. Gathering up his rucksack, Jahaan left a few extra coins on the mattress and embarked into the midday sun of Menaphos, perhaps for the last time.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

Previous chapter / Next chapter

[soulsxng--a]

@fatestouch​ replied to your post: “I mean yeah, I’d like to fuck someone, or...

OKAY BUT THIS IS SO CUTE

and Rei deserves to have fun with his friends!

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for. Been searching through the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor.” (JJ, and Rei “Wooooah~!”ing in the bg) “And buried in your bones, there’s an ache that you can’t ignore...Taking your breath. Stealing your mind. And all that was real is left behind!”

“Don’t fight it, it’s coming for ya, running at ya. It's only this moment, don't care what comes after. Your fever dream, can't you see it getting closer, Just surrender 'cause you feel the feeling taking over!”

“It's fire, it's freedom, it's flooding open. It's a preacher in the pulpit and you'll find devotion. There's something breaking at the brick of every wall, it's holding. All that you know.”

“So tell me do ya wanna go~?”

[heyyyharry]

Bitter Pill

(from ‘Couple in Flat 102’)

…in which Y/N’s brother is in the hospital, and Harry just thinks too much.

wattpad link

.

Y/N hadn't seen Jack since the talk about her wedding dress on Sunday. He took Monday off due to a business trip, and only replied to her thank you text message with a simple 'you're welcome', and that's it. So she expected to see her boss at work the next day in order to thank him in person, and pay him the money back for the gown, which he had insisted on her taking as a gift, but he was still her boss and therefore accepting it would be wrong.

Unfortunately, when Y/N arrived at work on Tuesday morning, once again, she found his desk empty.

"Kate, do you know where Ja—Mr. Coleman is?"

The vice president's assistant dropped the beam on her face as she looked around to make sure no one was listening. Then Kate leaned closer to whisper into Y/N's ear, telling her not to tell anyone about that, "he won't be in the office this week. His mother's in the hospital."

It was obvious that Jack wasn't the kind of man who liked to share about his personal life, the only time he'd mentioned his mother to Y/N was during their conversation in the café. But from the way he talked, Y/N could feel the great love he had for that woman, and so she thought right now he must be devastated. Jack would never abandon work for whatever reason, even if it was the weekend, or a holiday, or, as her co-workers used to joke, if the whole building was on fire. Y/N didn't know exactly how ill his mother was. Kate had only said that she'd passed out last night, and despite having regained consciousness, the hospital still refused to let her go home so soon. Nevertheless, the fact that Jack wouldn't be here this whole week already made it obvious that his mother's condition had taken quite a toll on him.

"Poor man, should we send his mother flowers?" Y/N asked Harry while petting their cat with one hand, and his hair with the other. They were watching an action movie on Netflix and she just couldn't concentrate; not only because the movie sucked but it was Harry's turn to pick one so she couldn't really complain, but also because she couldn't stop thinking about her brother as well as Jack's mother. Harry, on the other hand, was unable to take his eyes off the screen, not even for a second.

"She's gonna be fine, love." He sighed, snuggling his head into her bare shoulder. "But I think it's nice if you want to send flowers."

"Jack was very nice to us after all."

That short sentence immediately drew Harry's attention away from the on-going movie. He didn't need a reminder of how nice her boss was, because he already knew, and he hated to admit that it was bothering him more than it should. Even if Y/N refused to believe it, Harry was convinced that Jack had feelings for her, not just ordinary feelings, deep ones.

When Harry used to have a crush on Y/N, he would go out of his way to make sure she was happy and got what she wanted, even if he wasn't always gonna be a part of that joy. And that was exactly what Jack's doing now. Though he probably knew it wasa bad idea to fall for an engaged woman, he just couldn't help it and still did everything in his power to guarantee her happiness, even if it was with Harry and not him. Jack had never made a move on Y/N and seemed respectable, and just like Harry, he also wanted nothing but the best for her. So Harry really had no other reason to hate him besides the fact that they would do anything for the same woman. So now that Y/N started talking about that man again, Harry felt so uneasy that he couldn't continue watching the movie anymore. They never got to finish it though.

As soon as Y/N decided to pay attention to the screen again, she received a call from an unknown caller ID.

It was from a hospital.

The Hill Crest community hospital was one hour drive from where she lived, and it was already past midnight then, but she couldn't sit and wait until morning after they'd said her brother had been found in a car crash, and unconscious when they brought him in. Y/N's mind was empty, her heart was pounding like a drum. The girl was literally going insane as she threw on some clothes, wanting to go see her brother right away. She insisted on going there alone, but Harry didn't let that happen. He ended up giving her a ride, because after what had happened to her brother he needed to make sure she got there safely.

It was around two in the morning when they arrived. Y/N was already on the verge of tears as she rushed into the lobby like a mad woman, and asked the lady at the front desk about her brother's condition. In the car she had thought of the worst scenarios while praying for the best. So as soon as she heard from the nurse that Darren is still alive, and just regained consciousness, she couldn't help but dissolve in happy tears. Y/N asked if she was allowed to see him, and they say she was, but they need to talk to her about his general condition first.

The young couple followed a female doctor into a room where she showed them Darren's x-rays, and explained the severity of his injury, as well as how long it would take for him to recover. Then the woman talked about how the accident had happened. The more she said, the less Y/N believed. Maybe the girl was just in denial, thinking she knew her brother better than the people there. Maybe she didn't want to think she didn't really know him that well. Or maybe, she just didn't know how to feel about what she'd just found out. It hurt her enough to be here, now that she knew the reason why there'd been an accident, she was half angry, half perplexed.

Sighing, Y/N flopped down on the armchair by her brother's hospital bed, with Harry holding her shoulders to keep her calm. "I just talked to the doctor. You'll be lying here for months, Darren!"

"I know, kid. I'm also a doctor." Darren flashed her a broken smile because the stitches on his face made it hard for even such small movements.

"And an idiot," his sister replied, squeezing her own forehead. "Do you want me to call Emily?"

"No." Darren's reaction when Y/N brought up his wife made the young couple very confused as they exchange questioning looks.

"Well, she's gonna know eventually."

The long pause which followed what Harry had said told Y/N something was definitely wrong. She'd felt it since she received the hospital call about Darren's accident, only to find out later that he had been drunk driving. There was a reason he was her parents' favorite, he was the most responsible man she'd known. So him doing something so thoughtless and putting his life in danger was what she would never have expected.

"Emily and I..." Darren spoke at last. Neither Harry nor Y/N could tell the pain in his voice was physical or emotional, or it could be a terrible mixture of both kinds. "She's been sleeping with another man."

"What?" Y/N sat up straight and Harry's grip on her shoulders tightened to keep her in place. "How...did you find out?"

"She fucking admitted herself. Can you believe it?" Darren struggled to release a laugh, more like he was laughing at himself for being stupid enough to end up in this situation. But Y/N knew it wasn't his fault that Emily was unfaithful, he truly loved that woman.

Harry insisted on going so Y/N could chat with her brother, even after Darren had said it would be okay if he stayed. Harry just thought it would be easier for Darren to talk about what happened when it was just him and Y/N. He told them he's go buy some snacks and be right back, then kissed her once, and left the room.

It wasn't a very busy night in the hospital so Harry didn't expect to run into a friend or even an acquaintance here. However, as soon as he stepped into the lift, a familiar figure dashed inside right before the door was closed. At first, Harry didn't remember having met the man before, it wasn't his fault because it had been only one time, and they hadn't said a word to each other then.

Harry politely stepped aside so this guy could press a button. But the moment they made eye-contact, it only took one second for them to recognize each other. Both were equally surprised.

"Hey, you're—"

"Jack. I work with Y/N. We've met before." This time, unlike the last, Jack gave Harry an amiable smile as he shook his hand.

Harry'd had weirder encounters than this. He recalled that time, back in university, he had been partnered up with a girl he'd hooked up with who'd loathed him deeply. And so he ended up doing all the work for that class because she'd refused to help or even communicate. He thought it was already the most awkward moment ever in his life. But this definitely topped it all. He looked at the digital signage above the door, waiting for the number to jump to '1' while silently cursing the lift for moving so slowly.

Suddenly, Jack spoke up, "why are you here? Is...is Y/N okay?"

"She's fine." Harry cleared his throat, not very surprised when Jack's icebreaker question was about his fiancé. This guy cannot be anymore obvious, can he?  "Her brother was in a car crash."

"Jesus! Is he okay?"

"He's gonna be here for months but he's better now...How's your mother?"

At first Jack was taken aback by Harry's question, then he soon realized how Harry got that information and let out a small laugh along with a sigh. "I told my assistant not to tell anyone but she still did." He paused a bit, pulling his eyebrows together. "The doctor said she was doing better so I hope she's gonna be alright. Thanks for asking by the way."

Harry cracked a friendly smile, then says he wished that for her as well. The conversation stopped there. Just like that. Neither of them made an attempt to prolong the dialogue, which seemed to be facing a dead end anyway. Between two men who were in love with the same woman, there was obviously a lot to discuss, but at the same time, nothing at all.

Harry didn't need a long heart-to-heart conversation with Jack to believe everything he already knew is true. As soon as Jack opened his mouth and asked if Y/N was okay, Harry could see it in his eyes that he genuinely cared about her and would be truly hurt had the answer been 'no'. Even though he trusted his fiancé with his entire life, when another man had such strong feelings for your woman, no matter how decent he was, you couldn't help but feel troubled by his affection for her.

The lift stopped on the second floor, and Jack exited after having said goodbye. Not until then did Harry suddenly remember the wedding dress thing. He took the last opportunity to quickly thank Jack for it, but never received a reply, just one last cordial grin, before the door shut between them two.

.

.

.

Jack showed up at work the next day, unexpectedly, even when nobody had informed him about the emergency meeting beforehand.

The clients had disapproved their entire content plan for March, the deadline was near, and everyone was freaking out. Normally Jack would be the one to solve most of the company's problems, but since he had made it clear that he didn't want to be bothered during this week, no one dared to mention a word about this to him. That was why seeing the man enter the conference room was a huge shock for every single person here.

The young vice president calmly laid down his laptop on the table, and asked Kate to briefly summarize what had been requested in the email from their clients. He acted like nothing was wrong, which successfully had everyone in this room fooled, everyone but Kate and Y/N, who knew the truth.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried not to think too much about Jack being back at work and acting so out of character. Sure he still acted like a self-centered know-it-all during the meeting, Y/N didn't know how to describe it, but she just knew that wasn't like him. Every time she glanced into his office, she either saw him on the phone talking to someone, while looking like the world's coming to an end, or him sitting quietly at his desk, with his head in his hands, like the world had already ended. He wasn't as composed as he wanted other people to think.

"Come in."

Y/N slowly opened the door to the VP's office, feeling nervous as she stepped in and found Jack still typing something on his laptop, not giving at least one look at her. His hair was unkempt and his tie was loose, she thought after consuming that much coffee during the day he would look more energetic than the way he looked now, 'a literal mess' she would say.

"Everyone's gone home. Why are you still here?" she asked quietly, marching closer to his desk, still receiving not a single eye-contact from the man.

"Because none of you could get the job done, that's why."

Y/N was actually appalled by the attitude she received, because she had expected the same Jack who'd comforted her and sent her a wedding dress, not this insensible man he'd pretended to be.

"This morning before you showed up, we'd got everything under c—"

"If you'd got everything under control..." He pointed a finger at her and finally lifted his face up "...then the clients wouldn't have directly called me."

"Bu—"

"Just...Just go home alright? I can handle this." He waved his hand to the door in annoyance. But instead of following his order like an employee should, Y/N pulled out a chair to sit down in front of Jack by his desk, leaving him startled.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Stop asking questions, work's not gonna finish itself!" Ignoring the look on her boss' face, Y/N took one of his pens and turned his laptop screen a bit towards her so she could read the document on it. She heard him chuckle and say something about her acting more like a boss than he was.

"Okay then." The dark-haired man sighed in content as he relaxed his shoulders and checked the time on his watch. "Let's get this done so you can leave me alone."

.

.

.

Harry got off work early and drove to the hospital to see Darren. The doctors wanted to do some tests for him and they required at least one family member to be in presence. And since Y/N was stuck at work, because the clients couldn't stop nagging about new deadlines, as well as old ones, Harry told her not to worry, that he would be here for her brother, and pick her up from work afterwards.

Now that everything was almost finished, one of the nurses told Harry to wait here with Darren and when she returned he'd be free to go. As the woman left the room, Harry sat down in the armchair by Darren's bed, and told the older man it was not big of a deal when he kept thanking him for everything.

"She's so lucky to have you." Darren tried to put on a smile. "That kid's been through a lot. She always gives, and most people just don't appreciate her."

"It's me who's lucky to have her," Harry disagreed, telling Darren that there'd been a tremendous change in his life ever since they first met, and he honestly couldn't wait to start a new chapter with the love of his life as an official married couple.

"So have you two decided the wedding date yet?"

Harry didn't even hesitate when he answered that question, saying, "yes, we're getting married in June."

"June?!" Although Darren was unable to move most of the muscles on his face due to the pain it might cause, Harry still saw how shocked he was, which was not really surprising, because Niall and Layla had reacted the same way when he broke the news to them. "That's three months from now! It normally takes at least ten months to a year to plan a wedding, kid! It's not a birthday party!"

"We're not gonna do it the traditional way," Harry replied while beaming. "It's just gonna be a small ceremony and dinner party with a few guests, close friends and family only."

Darren appeared more relaxed now that he'd got the answer, but he still seemed a bit puzzled. "That doesn't sound like Y/N, she's obsessed with wedding planning."

"Tell me about it!" Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "I was surprised when she suggested that we have a small wedding. But it does take away a lot of stress, you know, with all the big decisions you'd have to make, the theme, the music and everything."

Darren chuckled slightly as he heard that. "When I was getting married, she kept begging me to let her plan my wedding. Obviously I said no because I didn't want her to neglect school and take in too much responsibility." When it got to this part, the atmosphere in the room, as well as Darren's cheerfulness, died down at once. Harry felt like it was his fault, maybe he shouldn't have ranted about his happy soon-to-be-married life with Y/N when her brother's marriage was falling apart and he was lying there, in the hospital.

So he apologized for it, however, Darren told him he shouldn't be sorry. "You're marrying my little sister, Harry. We're a family now, we can freely talk about this kind of stuff." There was a long indecisive pause before the man went on, "I feel so bad for telling Y/N about Emily, the kid really adored her."

"You don't have to feel bad about anything, Darren. None of it was your fault."

"But it was..." Darren shook his head. "Actually, everything, from start to finish, was half my fault."

Harry wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he'd done everything he could have and it was Emily's choice to betray his loyalty. However, he felt like the man'd got a lot more to say. So instead of speaking his mind, he stayed quiet and allowed Darren to begin..

"We got together at a very bad time in her life," he remembered. "Her long-term boyfriend had just left her, she was a single mother. She hadn't met anyone who treated her better, so she assumed I was the one that she should spend the rest of her life with." The shivering in his voice was almost heart-wrenching. And Harry thought Darren's happiness might've just ended with those three sentences.

"But I'm not her soulmate like we both thought I was, I've never been the one true love of her life. So when her real love came..." The man paused to exhale "...she was already my wife. Emily soon realized she made a mistake by marrying me, and it was too late. It hurt me so much when she told me the truth, but that was when I knew she didn't love me anymore. I had to let her go. It's so sad because she's my everything and I'm not that for her anymore. But if she's happier with the other guy, who am I to keep her by my side?"

Harry knew it was Darren's story, it had nothing to do with him nor it would ever affect his own life, yet for some reasons he couldn't explain, he was afraid.

Before al this, Y/N couldn't stop talking about how much she admired her brother's marriage, she had also made Harry believe Darren and Emily were meant to be together, the definition of true love. But the bitter pill to swallow was, loving someone with all your heart and soul and having them love you back wouldn't guarantee that they'd forever feel the same. Even though it was just one brief thought that came and left his mind like a breeze, Harry was worried that someday, like Emily, Y/N might meet someone else and realize Harry was not her soulmate, then she might regret marrying him so soon.

And the possibility of her leaving him one day was unbearable to think of.

.

.

.

Jack couldn't remember the last time he felt this way. He was never the kind of person who thought highly of himself (not all the time at least), but he rarely got nervous around girls no matter how gorgeous they were. The fact that all of his past relationships had been with women who were either older than him or at the same age, and now he was getting sweaty palms being alone with a girl three years younger than him, gave him a headache, which he might blame on stress and caffein. But he knew it was all her.

Y/N didn't notice his stare, she kept her eyes on her laptop screen, trying to figure out why the costs for online ads had got so big. Jack hated to admit this, but he thought she was adorable when she touched her nose way too often, and furrowed her eyebrows as she concentrated too hard. Then he started smiling subconsciously, only to stopped himself when he remembered that she was already engaged, and her fiancé was actually a nice person.

Speaking of which...

"Isn't Harry coming to pick you up?" he asked, pulling her back to reality as she blinked at him a few times, making him smile.

"He's a bit busy so he's gonna be here late." She didn't tell him exactly why Harry was busy. Knowing Jack's mother was also in the hospital, she didn't want to mention her brother right now. Ironically, Jack ended up being the one to bring that up.

"How's your brother by the way?" He seemed concerned, then quick to add, "Also, I ran into Harry last night, great lad."

"Yeah, he told me." She chuckled slightly. "My brother is fine, thanks for asking. As for Harry, he said he didn't have a chance to properly thank you for the dress."

"No, he did thank me." Jack shook his head. "But there's really no need since you insisted on paying me back the money."

"It's wrong to accept such an expensive gift from anyone, not just your boss." She raised an eyebrow at Jack, flashing him a smile. "But honestly, I cannot thank you enough for getting me the same dress that I lost to someone else. How did you—"

All of a sudden, Y/N's question got interrupted by the sound of Jack's ringtone. He put one finger up, telling her to wait as he took this call, which seemed to be important because of how he reacted after seeing the caller ID. Y/N couldn't hear what the person on the other end of the line says to him, but she held his eye-contact the entire time. She hadn't seen this kind of look since the day Harry got the news his stepfather had passed away. Jack didn't need to say a single word to let Y/N knew what was happening. When he hung up, without saying one word to the caller, he almost forgot how to breathe.

"Hey..." Y/N slightly touched his arm. "Are you...okay?"

The man rose from his seat, causing the girl to do the same. He stood with his back facing her and demanded her to leave him alone. He sounded so serious, yet at the same time, broken. He expected her to already be at the door when he took a deep breath and repeated the same sentence for the second time, only louder. But she was still there. Why is she still there?

"Y/N, just...leave. Go home."

Y/N knew she should listen, but at the same time, she could imagine what it was like to be in his shoes. When she rushed into the hospital demanding to see her brother, she thought he wouldn't make it, and she wouldn't have made it either had Harry not been by her side. If she was Jack now, the last thing she would want was to be left alone. So despite everything he had just said, she took a deep breath, and reached out to touch his shoulder. Suddenly, he turned around, swiftly locking his fingers around her wrist, and she was in utter shock. Her eyes opened wide, staring right into his, which were already filled with tears. When they first met, she never would've though one day she would get to see her boss sad, let alone cry, never would've expected it to be in a situation like this.

Without saying a word, he dropped his head down onto her shoulder and burst into quiet sobs, arms came to wrap around her waist. And so she hugger him back and keeps telling him it was gonna be alright, even if she knew those words were meaningless to him now. She just didn't have the heart to stay quiet and let the heartbreaking sounds he made take over.

While Y/N was comforting her boss, who'd just lost the biggest love of his life, Harry was waiting right outside in his car for her. He kept checking his watch and wondering what was taking her so long because he wasn't that early. But as soon as he saw her walk out of the building with Jack, and they stopped to share a long hug before saying goodbye, there was a strange feeling of sadness that he couldn't describe in words.

"Is everything alright, love?" He asked her after she had got into the car and kissed him on the lips. She looked so sad, still gazing at the man who was watching them from the outside.

"Jack's mother passed away..." Y/N gave her fiancé a frown as she buckled her seatbelt. "He was crying so I stayed to comfort him."

The rest of the drive back was weighed down by silence. Harry tried to keep his eyes on the road, but every once in a little while he took a quick glance at her, trying to read what was on her mind. Her hand remained resting on his knee but she was looking outside from the window on her left, preoccupied with something else. Harry was literally on the edge of his seat on the entire way home.

His biggest fear almost came to life when they arrived at the flat, he walked into the living room but she lingered at the front door. Her voice was quiet, yet loud enough to break his heart.

"I think we should postpone the wedding."

He was paralysed for almost two seconds before finding the courage to ask her why in a trembling voice. That was when she knew he was afraid she might be doubting her decision to marry him, so she released a faint laugh and approached him so she could hold him tight.

"This has nothing to do with you and me, love," she reassured him, placing her hands at the back of his neck to pull back a little bit so they look at each other in the eye. "My brother's recovery is gonna take more than three months, and...not to mention the thing with Emily...I don't want to invite him to our wedding when he's got divorce papers to sign."

Harry nodded understandingly, then took a deep breath and laid his hands on her sides. "It's okay, if that's what you want."

"You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not. I want the best for you and for your brother too," he replied and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. When he pulled away, Harry was startled to see her burst out crying. His first reaction was to cup her cheeks and repeatedly asked her if he had said something wrong.

"No, no...I...You didn't..." She sobbed, shaking her head as he wiped away her tears. "I just love you so much."

Harry didn't expect that at all. As much as he hated to see her in tears, he found that moment adorable and amusing still, so he tossed his head back, laughing, then pulled her close. "Shhh, stop it, princess. You're gonna make me cry."

"We're still getting married okay?" She mumbled into his chest, smiling through the tears. She'd been thinking about this decision on the drive back home, second guessing what his reaction would be. She had expected him to be upset since her brother and his wife had been the reason she didn't want to get married in three months like they'd planned. She had expected something else, not this, not him telling her he could wait without even knowing how long it was gonna take for this whole thing to be settled.

"It doesn't matter how long." He kissed her forehead. "I can wait."

Those three words caused her to once again withdraw from the grip of his arms so that she could see and caress his beautiful face. "Thank you for everything," she whispered to him. "For helping my brother, for being here, for loving me. I don't think anyone's gonna love me as much as you do."

"But..." Harry knew he should shut up before he said something stupid, but he ended up saying the stupid thing anyway, "if...there's someone else...better than me, and loves you just as much, will you still want me then?"

Y/N lifted an eyebrow, giving him a funny look as she asked inbetween soft giggles, "are you insane? What are you talking about? Did Darren say something to you?"

"No," he lied. "Never mind, it's just a dumb question."

"It is! Don't you ever doubt me again!" She playfully stroked the top of his head, then remembered something important. "Wait! Where's the cat?!"

"Relax, she's with Nam."

"Nam wasn't there when we came in."

"He's probably gossiping with the dog lady on the second floor again. 'Working'." Harry's air-quotes made Y/N laugh as he kissed her on the cheek, saying he'd come downstairs to get their kitten. But before he made it to the hallway, she stopped him in his tracks.

"Husband."

"Hmm?" He turned around, eyebrows raised, lips pressed together.

"Nothing." She bit back a smile, shaking her head. "I just wanted to call you that."

The sound of that word from her lips never failed to leave Harry grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he exhaled and rolled his eyes in response. "Wife," he said, emphasizing the sweet title with a firm nod, then didn't forget to send her a wink before walking out.

[alo-piss-trancy]

hello! do u have any omo hcs for any mha chars? if not, that's okay :) btw some of the stuff u posted from a while back was from homestuck, just wanted to point that out ig- have a good day!!

To answer your other thing first, yeah I know hom/estuck! :D I never got super into the fandom side of it or even finished reading it unfortunately bc it's just SO LONG (I got up to some point in the middle of Act 4 or 5 I think? That was years ago though). I know the 4 kids and the first batch of trolls around their age (K/arkat and all of them) but once it gets to the older ones from that other timeline or whatever I got lost and only really know about D/irk and Ja/ke haha. I've still tried to avoid spoilers about the stuff I didn't read and the ending and such since maybe one day I'll have nothing else to read and finish it lol. The most interaction I really do with it nowadays is reading the occasional omo fic or looking at art because the piss side of that fandom was chock-full of quality content (and in some places still MAKING IT ) that I'm still working my way through.

But you didn't ask about that you asked about SUPERHEROES! SO HERE WE GO! :D

I've posted a few for certain popular chars like De/ku, Baku/gou, and Tod/oroki before (which I will reblog right after answering this in case you'd like to see those), so I'll do a few of my favourites this time!

M/ina (aka pink bae) :

* Pretty big bladder, but not a high tolerance for pain after a certain point. As soon as she feels a nagging urge she usually just goes instead of waiting. She can technically hold a lot/for a long time if need be, but it really bothers her and psyches her out.

* Drinks WAY too much soda. Not that it really affects her bladder, it's just unhealthy lol

* Very whiny and vocal when she needs to go. At first jokingly/to vent her annoyance, then if she's desperate enough it's solely to distract herself because somehow talking about it is easier than struggling in silence. Groans really exaggeratedly to show how annoyed she is.

* Super bouncy, like hopping up and down on her toes or bouncing in her seat in class/on the bus. Tugs the hem of her shirt down to cover or places her hands to the front of her bladder and presses while doubled over/bouncing on toes. You know that kind of stuff.

* Doesn't really grab her actual crotch unless dying. She'll press her knees together/grind her thighs though, or rut against the edge of her chair

* She tends to sweat/get flushed when super desperate/straining, and if she's especially nervous she might lose control of her quirk enough for her feet to slip in a light bit of acid. Usually she can keep the quirk under wraps even while bursting though.

* If she wet in public/in front of important people, she'd be pretty embarrassed and would take a few days to get over it. But if it's in front of friends she doesn't mind as much. It's still an uncomfortable experience but she can usually find a way to turn it into a joke with everyone instead of them laughing at her expense. She has a good sense of humor about it and hey, at least she finally got to pee.

* Will pretty much pee anywhere. Boy's bathroom, outdoors, a bucket, whatever. The only time she'll hesitate or refuse is if it's super gross.

* Has gone in the pool once to see if the rumor was true. Only once though.

* Probably doesn't have an omo kin/k, but is open to experimenting either way.

Toko/yami (birb boi) :

* Tiny bladder (like smaller than De/ku's). Gets squirmy shortly after a single juice box or small soda. Cannot get through drinking a large-sized drink without multiple potty breaks. Mostly sticks to water except for rare treats because caffeine goes through him so fast.

* Very self-conscious and shy because of said tiny bladder. Doesn't like looking weak or seeming baby-ish compared to his peers and def doesn't want to have to ask multiple times on long trips or classes, so he tries his best to monitor his liquid intake and sneak away when everyone is busy. This usually works out okay since he's so good at hiding out in corners/being quiet, but it's becoming harder now that he has /gasp/ friends who want to keep tabs on him or include him in stuff. He would low-key rather die than tell anyone he has to go at all, let alone if he has to go really REALLY badly. Dorm sleepovers will be hell.

* He isn't really pee-shy as far as public bathrooms go, but if he has to take an emergency pee outside or smth he has a hard time going, esp if he has someone with him trying to stand guard. Some people probably like to joke that because he's part animal he can go outside whenever he wants. That is Not The Case and it isn't funny

* Da/rk Shadow, on the other hand, gives no fucks and will try his best to force birdy to say something or blurt it out himself. Mostly at very embarrassing and inconvenient times with crowds, or hollering at everyone to wake up and move out of the way during said sleepover in the middle of the night when To/koyami is trying to sneak past the maze of sleeping bags to get to the bathroom quietly. Da/rk Shadow would be lying if he said he didn't get a bit of amusement from making birdy boi so embarrassed, but at his core he also does it because he's concerned the poor guy's gonna hurt himself testing his limits so often, and he would be even more embarrassed if he wet himself so HE'S DOING HIM A FAVOUR REALLY.

* Mostly fidgets with his legs. Lots of jiggling and partial bouncing and shifting weight from foot-to-foot. Crossed whenever he's sitting. Squeezing and rubbing thighs together, the whole she-bang. If he's alone and it gets this bad you can count on a full-blown potty dance.

* If he really has to keep up a good impression and can't afford to let anyone know, he can stop the fidgeting, but pretty much only by standing stock-still and straight and not really moving. His whole body ends up shaking from the strain though so it isn't actually that much of a cover

* If he's literally about to pee himself/knows he has to hold it for a LONG time with no other options he'll cave and hold himself really tight, but he seriously has to be on the verge of a full blown accident before he'll dare do this. Even around close friends he'd usually rather just try his best to keep his legs together and put up with the few leaks praying they don't notice.

* He leaks a LOT of tiny trickling leaks. He never loses control in one big gush, it just keeps dribbling out and he stops it for like half a minute and then it starts again, rinse and repeat each time more agonizing than the last until he finally loses full control and the rests hisses out.

* He tries to be quiet when desperate but the worse it gets the more he starts to let out little whimpers and moans, which can then devolve into incoherent rambling. By the time he's about to lose it he's basically Izu/ku levels of chatter, albeit much much quieter.

*When he does finally let go completely (whether that's in the bathroom or in his pants lol) he definitely has those fullbody pee shivers. You know the lil shudder all the way up his spine, complete with the softest little moan and his eyes slipping shut? His head feathers floof up for a second when he does it and it's adorable.

* If he wets he's going to be completely mortified. He doesn't cry (openly at least, his eyes will be watery), but he isn't as good at maintaining a stoic facade as Tod/oroki could. He's shaky and his words come off broken, he can't quite calm his breath hitching. Depending on the witness, he might try to BS an excuse to leave immediately and pretend it didn't just happen, not confronting them for several days until he's tracked down. Or he might break down enough to be unsure how to leave/end up staying to be comforted.

* probably doesn't have a ki/nk for it himself but would hold/wet for a partner. I don't care how edgy he looks he's 100% a SUB

* Da/rk Shadow would enjoy being the dom and even have birdy hold for him maybe, using his shadow powers to poke and tease at his bladder

Ts/u (froggy) :

* BIG bladder. Is that friend who never seems to have to pee no matter how long you've been hanging out. She also has a decent pain tolerance and keeps control fairly well. It takes a lot to push her into a state where she's at risk of wetting.

* Always well-hydrated. Always. Mostly water, juice, or tea, she doesn't drink soda very often. Doesn't mind it though and the caffeine doesn't seem to affect her much, but the fizzing's weird.

* She doesn't really give outward signs of desperation. She doesn't bounce around or grab herself. The most she'll do is press her thighs together, or cross legs if she's sitting. Usually she just tries to stand still and focus on keeping control, and will be less talkative. Usually she's very observant of her peers and the situations around her, so her classmates can tell something's up when she gets like this and keeps missing details or not joining conversations.

* Still appears pretty calm, even when bursting. You'd have to know her very well to tell that she's nervous.

* Not shy at all about asking/leaving to go when needed, unless it's an extremely formal or serious situation. Even so, if genuinely close to wetting she'd excuse herself or find a way to take care of it.

* If desperate during an actual hero mission, she would intentionally wet herself as soon as the need started affecting her performance. Pride isn't worth making errors and putting others' lives at risk, and taking time to find a hiding place/get out of her costume wouldn't be an option.

* No problem going outside or in odd receptacles, even around friends. She's not going to go out in the open, but has no problem going while someone keeps watch or asking for a bottle during a long bus ride.

* Pretty chill about going in water, but still has standards. In the shower/further out in the ocean where it doesn't affect people? Perfectly fine. In the pool or a closed lake where people are hanging out? That just makes you a jerk. River? Depends on whether it's a super clean stream or already gross, and where it leads to.

* No omo ki/nk to speak of. Pretty confused about it, but perfectly chill with giving it a try if someone asks.

Kyo/ka (earphone girl) :

* Average bladder. High pain tolerance. Can hold for a while longer if necessary, but she'll struggle/wet eventually.

* Not shy at all about leaving/asking, barring special circumstances. Not a fan about going in weird places/outdoors, but will if she has to. She'll gripe about it though.

* Doesn't get nervous so much as frustrated when desperate. She's the type to bang on the door to snap at someone to hurry up, or yell at the bus driver to pull over before she soaks their seat. Her squirming is mainly just leg crossing or jiggling when seated, foot tapping when standing. Lots of sighing/growling and grumbling to take her mind off of it.

* If she's genuinely close to losing control though or in one of those special circumstances, she won't be nearly as frustrated. Instead she gets unusually shy and quiet, withdrawing to the corner and trying to stay unnoticed while she squirms and whines under her breath.

* Will only grab herself once she's on the verge of losing it. This is when she gets truly nervous and starts to panic.

* Wetting is embarrassing no matter what, but her reaction heavily depends on the circumstances. Close friends can comfort her after some sulking and then she can kind of chuckle about it. Regular peers get some threats not to talk about it, then she'll withdraw for a few days before she can get over it. Strangers she just tries to get out of there ASAP and wants to crawl under a rock

* Probably has a pretty big omo kin/k (mostly seeing others desperate, but sometimes indulges herself), but she's super embarrassed about it. You'd have to work real hard to get her to bring it up/ask you to participate. If she can though, oh boy is she gonna be into it. She gets a real thrill out of the dominant side of it, teasing people and watching them squirm (she's a very affectionate dom so expect some kisses and hugs while she casually straddles your bladder), breaking down their defenses until they lose control just for her. She does love being the sub on occasion though, it's nice to be the one flustered and nervous/having to be coddled for a change since she's usually so chill and tough.

Ko/da (animal whisperer) :

* Average bladder despite his large stature. Not overly weak, not overly strong. Mild pain tolerance. Can force himself to hold on for an exceptionally long time if necessary, but will be much weaker and prone to accidents afterwards.

* Pretty dang shy about asking/leaving, and is also legit bladdershy in public restrooms unless they're completely empty. Usually holds it during classes and then slips back to his dorm room's private restroom during lunch hour. Once he grows comfortable enough around certain friends he can use their dorm/house bathrooms, but that still takes some coaxing and a lot of visits to ease into it.

* He actually has less trouble going outside as long as there's plenty of cover and nobody's around (like a forest or smth). Animals don't judge the way people do. It's definitely not his first choice, but between say, a campground public bathroom and the woods, he'll take the woods.

* While most of his classmates/teachers in 1-A have gotten to know him enough to understand most of his miming communication, when he has to spend time with other classes/teachers or strangers in town, it can be a struggle. He's much more hesitant to 'speak up' about his need in the first place, and even once he does they don't really understand at first and it gets really embarrassing (short of doing an actual potty dance or starting to leak they might not figure it out in time). Sometimes he just writes it down instead/types it on his phone, which helps, but he's so used to charade communication that half the time he forgets that's an option.

* He tries not to be too obvious about his need when desperate, but isn't the best at hiding it. He gets really sweaty and can't quite wipe the nervous expression off his face, and his body posture is really tense and shaky. To be fair, he looks nervous a lot of the time, so most people might not pick up on the exact reason unless they know him well.

* When it gets REALLY bad he starts to squirm a little, pressing his knees together or rocking on his heels, shuffling in his seat, or the classic 'both hands gripping the edge of the chair with legs on either side, but you're not actually grabbing your crotch so it isn't obvious right?'. Any further and he'll do the actual crotch grab and a full potty dance, complete with tears budding in the corners of his eyes and little whining hums and whimpers.

* If he wets, he will be completely humiliated. Horribly ashamed, trying to clean up the mess but with no idea how, crying and on the verge of panic. That's all just alone. Have it happen in front of friends or in public and it's even worse, because now they're all gonna think he's a baby and not cool like them and he doesn't know whether to keep apologizing/crying or run away to hide forever.

* Luckily he's pretty easy to comfort once people try. He won't learn to laugh about it or anything but if people convince him they aren't mad or gonna make fun of him, he can meekly accept the offer to hang out or go back to join whatever group he left once he's cleaned up and had time to decompress.

* Doesn't really have an omo kin/k, but is a big sub with a humiliation kin/k so he could go along with it for his partner. He kinda likes the whole squirmy, blushy side of it and all the comfort and spoiling he gets afterwards uvu

Pi/xie Bob (blonde kitty teacher from the summer camp arc) :

* I actually don't have many for her since she was only in a few episodes, I just think she's really cute and cool

* Probably pretty good bladder capacity and strength to hold. High pain tolerance and endurance

* Would wet during a mission to avoid making mistakes bc she's a professional and isn't that embarrassed in the moment, but she thinks it's kinda gross and will shower ASAP afterwards. Also because her group is kind of idol-esque so there's a reputation on the line.

* Will go outdoors without much fuss if she needs to, but definitely prefers more civilized accommodations. You know she's got a nicer private bathroom than whatever general camp one the others have to use. Pros get privileges.

* Bounces/whines a lot when desperate and kind of paws at her crotch without really grabbing it. Lots of leg crossing and wriggling/hunching over. Only when by herself or with her close friends though. If she's in Pro-Hero mode trying to make good impressions or teaching camps, she can mask her needs remarkably well to focus on the task at hand. She forgets what she's saying periodically or has a shakier smile, but that's about it.

* FYI those giant cat paw gloves make getting a decent grip on her crotch imPAWsible

* Wetting is kind of embarrassing but she's also super relieved so it kind of balances out. Unless it happened live on tv or smth she'd probably be able to get over it pretty quickly. In front of any camper students she'd be embarrassed on the inside, but not let the flustering show. Instead she turns it into a teachable moment.

* Could have an omo kin/k or could not. We don't know a ton about her so I like flexible hcs.

[yaboymercury]

Ripping 9 to 5 - Doctor

(Re upload since the original was flagged for the pic)

Joe liked his usual doctor he was low energy, understanding and old which meant he was never usually stressed about going for appointment’s. But according to receptionist he’d retired and now he had no choice but ‘Dr Wright’ who had only just finished Med school and this was his first proper job.

It was only one of the last physio sessions for Joe’s recovery from his now-healed broken ankle but it was a pain it was with a new doctor.

His slightly anxious train of thought was interrupted by the receptionist saying that Dr Wright was ready for him.

Joe stood in front of the doctor’s door wondering if he should open it and if he did what he would say and generally overthinking the entire situation. But right as his hand grasped the door knob it was pulled forwards from the other side and with his still faulty angle he collapsed forwards through the entryway.

Fortunately for Joe he fell on something warm and quite quickly to momentarily break his fall. Unfortunately for both of them they both fell backwards onto the floor of the office on top of eachother.

“Shit, as if my first my first day couldn’t get any worse” Joe heard the stern voice mumbling as he blinked opening his eyes. Looking down the other man he couldn’t help but be stunned by him, his golden hair messed up by the fall still looked amazing, and his lips parted groaning in the pain from the fall seemed almost inviting.

But Joe had to get a grip. He was on top of the man who was supposed to be helping him. And with a jolt of pain from his ankle his moaned which unintentionally reminded the doctor of his presence.

“Oh crap sorry this is very unprofessional of me…” The doctor got out from under Joe and stood up brushing himself off and fixing his hair with one hand and offering the other to Joe on the floor “Let me help you up, especially since I probably just worsened your condition” He asked while bending down and giving Joe and apologetic smile.

How managed to get off the floor with the help of the man who introduced himself as Doctor Wright who when standing next to him he realised had an imposing physique standing a bit taller than him but his shoulders jutted out wider and his arms were massive.

Before they could get back into business a blast of freezing air came in through the wide open window making Joe shiver. It was the middle of winter and it was a cold day making Joe question the doctors sanity. His puzzled look at the window was noticed by the Doctor who again apologized explaining:

“Yeah it was getting quite stuffy in here and my last patient had some complaints so I had to open it, that didn’t stop him from leaving though”

“Why did he leave?” Joe asked a bit worried at the legitimacy of the doctor.

“Oh no nothing really that bad I think he just needed fresh air” He said with an embaressed smile scratching the back of his head. The doctor was so damn charming that it erased any doubt in Joe’s mind and just left him blushing.

After closing the windows Wright offered Joe a seat opposite him “Again sorry about all the informalities, let’s just help I can help your ankle”

“Don’t worry I’m sure you can do anything to help..” Joe trailed away not sure what he was saying and worried he was coming on too strong luckily the doctor ignored this.

He continued explaining all they had to do were a few stretches to help train the muscles. The bad news was that the stretches would be guided by the doctor, meaning a lot of physical contact, which Joe wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle.

“Okay so the first one is easy” He was standing in front of Joe but facing away, this was his first time noticing the doctor’s ass which was seemingly barely being held back by his work trousers which only helped emphasise the shape of his ass. One of his legs was now on the bed surface and he was stretching to his side, but all Joe could look at was how it contorted his ass and how amazing it looked when it moved.

“So do you get it?” Joe’s fantasy was interrupted and the doctor turned around to face the spaced out man. Joe had completely forgotten the stretch but instead of reprimanding him the Doctor only smiled and said “Okay that’s fine let me guide you through it”

Before Joe could even splutter out a response the doctor was behind him holding his waist in one hand and his inner thigh in the other. It was so intimate, Joe was practically being grinded on by how closer the doctor’s bulge was to his ass.

“Hah sorry about how close this is guess I should tell you I’m James by the way, always polite to at least tell them your name first” Oh god he was making sex jokes at a time like this, Joe was beginning to sweat as all he could do was force out a chuckle at the doctor who was practically groping him.

“Okay now I’m just going to raise your left leg onto the bed slowly and stabilise you with my other hand securely on your waist” Joe’s leg began to rise easily but as he did he realised a familiar feeling in his ass it was full of gas , shit shit shit, he couldn’t let it out now, not like this. His panic increased as his leg got onto the bed.

“Doc are you sure you need to show me all this I think my ankle is feeling fine actually?” Joe asked quickly.

“Hah yeah you’re funny, I like funny guys, but no I saw your x-rays your going to need all the stretches you can get” What the hell does he mean by he likes funny guys, is he gay as well? Joe knew he could worry about that now the James was pushing his waist so his upper body stretched towards his leg only straining Joe’s asshole more to try and hold it in.

But it couldn’t.

Prrrrrrrrrrrrt

It was an obvious clear sound followed quickly by the stink of the beans on toast Joe had eaten for breakfast. Joe actually enjoyed the smell of his own brew but he doubted the doctor felt the same was, especially when it’s right on his crotch.

He tried to find words to express apology, to make an excuse, to lighten the situation. But all he could do was splutter. Joe even tried to scuff his foot on the floor to make a similar sound but the carpet was incapable of this and the smell was undeniable.

Facing the consequences he turned his head a little to meet the face of the doctor who still held his waist.

“Wheeew guess that comes with the territory pretty stinking though I’d give it a strong 6 put of 10” he said grinning at Joe.

Joe was shocked. Why wasn’t this man disgusted surely this situation would be embaressing for both of them. So why was the only thing Joe could think to say…

“Only a six?” he got out as he turned around to face the other man who seemingly refused to take his hands of his waist, feeling the warmth radiating from him made Joe blush a little more.

“Not to brag..” James said shaking his ass with one of his hands behind his back which Joe wished he got a better view of “..but I’m pretty much a gas machine, back in my dorm at uni they used to call me 'Dr Stink’ and I kinda lived up to that name”

Momentarily regretting all he had said the Doctor’s voice became a little more coy finishing his explanation “So again not to brag but that burst of yours pales in comparison…”

Both of them were left in silence with Joe being stunned by the apparently stinky Doctor’s reveal.

Still surrounded in the smell of Joe’s emission James decided to break the tension with an awkward smile saying “So let’s continue with the stretches!”

Again standing facing away from Joe with his entrancing ass on show he made a wide stance with his feet apart and looked back at him.

“So this one’s a little easier just a basic forwards stretch, now copy my stance and we’ll do it together”

Joe stood the only place he could fit in the modest office, right behind him. James began to bend down until he reached the ground as he did so his ass began to almost break the seems of his trousers trying to escape with part of his crack showing at the top. Joe had to try not to stare but it was the only thing in his line of sight.

“Like what you see?” James was looking back at Joe from in between his legs, he caught him staring. He asked the question light-heartedly but Joe knew his answer would have been yes. “Well anyway you need to copy the stretch so come on”

Joe had nothing else to do except follow not wanting to be more awkward. It wasn’t until he began to bend forward that he realised how close his face was getting to the Doctor’s amazing ass. When his face got as close to the butt as it could from bending he couldn’t help but look up at it, he couldn’t resist.

The moment he looked up.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPT

The air around his face shook, the force of the blast blew his hair since it was so close and he could feel the heat of it. Then the stink followed swiftly invading Joe’s senses with its rotten eggy stench.

“Ah I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist so I prepared a little punishment, oh and I also wanted to make sure you know that I live up to my title of 'Dr Stink’ after all.”

In his weak stance and so overpowered Joe’s legs gave out and he collapsed on the floor of the office coughing in the gas cloud which surrounded him.

Once again the doctor helped him off the ground and once again the doctor held his patient by the waist. James looked a little embaressed but mainly triumphant.

“I probably should have held back a bit more but at least you know what I can do” the doctor said winking at the patient in his hands.

Between coughs Joe managed to say “Yeah and it fucking reeks aren’t doctors supposed to make you healthier??” Joe managed to get out a smile with the last claim finding the humour in the situation.

Instead of laughing at the claim however he just smirked wrapping his hands around Joe’s wrists. “Well this doctor has noticed you staring at his ass and his ass had something to say about it” Smirking as he said the sentence he guided Joe’s hands to his ass so he could get a good feel.

Joe knew he should be more embaressed but all he could bring himself to do was grab at James’s ass. All room for rational thought had gone.

“I think by this point Joe we’ve moved past any pretence” in the middle of the sentence James let out a short fart on Joe’s hands which soon added to the stench surrounding the two. He pulled himself out of Joe’s arms and walked to the door locking it and then walked over to the window to shut the blinds. As he began to unbutton his shirt revealing his toned chest, he looked back to Joe and continued “You’ve been quite an unprofessional patient so I’m afraid this appointment will have to use some more extreme treatment”

Approaching closer to Joe who was getting more intimidated and aroused by the second he turned around in front of him and unzipped his trousers “It’s a treatment which I specifically specialise in and only I can cure your condition with”

He pulled his trousers slowly down letting his bare uncovered ass spill out in all it’s plentiful glory “That condition being the one barely held back by your underwear specifically”

Joe hadn’t even fully noticed the fact that his penis was completely stiff and easily visible in his jeans. He was lost for words and confused at what specifically about the situation was turning him on but before he could try and reason with him.

“So if we are going to continue with the procedure I’m going to need you to lie down on the bed so we can begin” Joe gulped at this knowing that whatever smelly treatment James gave him he wouldn’t be able to cope with it. He had a very sensitive nose and just one fart from the doctor nearly made him pass out. But he lost all rational thought when the barely clothed James grabbed his waist and began kissing his neck making his way up to his face and eventually on his mouth. It wasn’t the most romantic situation but the sensuality and intimacy overcame Joe as he gave in completely.

As they were kissing Joe managed to pull off his shirt and wriggle out of his trousers. Once he was only in his boxers James managed to lead him to the bed so he could fall back on it.

James bent over the bed so he could look down at the sprawled out man underneath him. Smiling down at Joe he teased him rubbing his bulge underneath the thin layer of fabric.

“I didn’t think I’d find a suitable sniffer on my first day so I’m shocked that a cute man like you would just stumble into my door and just let me start gassing him up.” In a quick flip of his leg James was straddling Joe with his ass over his chest and his erect dick pointing towards Joe’s underwear.

Backing his ass up closer to Joe’s face, Joe was getting more and more nauseated at the pure stench of his ass. The smell of stale farts drifted up his nostrils. Giving one last look back at him James winked “Hope you enjoy your prescription”

Then it smothered him James’s bare sweaty taint was on Joe’s face with his hole perfectly aligned with his nose.

FRRRRRRRRRRRRP

PPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRARP

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAP

The barrage seemed endless and the gas began intoxicating Joe’s brain clouding any sense he had leading him to mindlessly moan simultaneously for freedom but also for more.

Then Joe felt James start sucking on his dick getting him closer to the release he needed and also the stimulation of their bodies increased as James began writhing on top of him rubbing his cock on Joe’s chest for further stimulation for himself.

FRRRRRT

PRRRRRRRRT

BRRAAAAAAAPT

The farts became less long but more frequent and had more power behind them helped by the fact that with James’s thrusting his ass was now beating against Joe’s face.

PRAAAAAAAP

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPT

PHHHHHHHRT

The stink was becoming so overwhelming but the pleasure was as well. Joe’s thoughts were becoming clouded by the rotten stench of James’s gas.

PRRRRRRRRAPT

That last blast was enough to push him over the edge with its extra hot burst of sour smelling stench. He came in James’s mouth and moaned into his ass. Seconds after he felt warmth on his stomach and a muffled moan and triumphant laugh from above signalling that James had release as well.

He could barely hear it from under his ass but he could make out: “Just one more….”

Fsssssssssssssssssssssssh

It was worse than anything else Joe had experienced and it all went straight up his nose singing his nose hair and the toxic stink pushed him over the edge. Passing out he all he experienced was the powerful stink, the heat on his face and the muffled sound of proud laughter.

Joe came to on the same bed but under a blanket and suitably cleaned up. The sun was setting reminding Joe of how much of the day he had lost. The room still had the faint stale stink of James’s gas proving it wasn’t all some crazy fever dream.

On the table next to him was a business card with a phone number next to 'Dr. James Wright’ on one side and some writing on the other.

'Patient seemed to react well to treatment but is under threat of facing repeat symptoms. Must report back at least weekly for repeat treatment and specific therapy’

It seemed to Joe that he was going to have to get used to his new prescription.

[doomlover21]

Widojest Week Day 4

Here's my fic for day 4: fairy tale. This fairy tale was strangely always one I was fascinated by as a kid. This fic also kind of got away from me and ran off in a completely different direction, but I like the way it turned out. Enjoy Fairytale Memories!

“Did your parents ever read you stories when you were little?” she asked. Her companion looked up from the book he was reading to turn his gaze at her. Not that he could really see her that well. The dim light from his rag covered dancing light ball could only illuminate so far.

“Ja, meine mutter and occasionally meine vater vould read to me.”

“I bet you know all sorts of good Zemnian fairy tales then,” the blue-skinned tiefling said. He nodded.

“I know a few.” He went right back to his book as if to say that the conversation was over, but the persistent girl would not relent.

“Like what?” she asked. She was genuinely curious as to what a Zemnian fairy tale would be like. Sure she had heard her own fairy tales of grand palaces and faraway princes and princesses being rescued from high-towers and dragons, but she was equally sure that a Zemnian tale would definitely be different.

“Vell,” he answered as he closed his book. He spun around in the dirt so that he was facing her and she mimicked the gesture.

“Zere vas zee story of zee children of Hamelin who vere lured by a piper and his magical music. Zen zere vas zee story of a king who captured a fair maiden and told her she vas to spin straw into gold,” he told her.

“Straw into gold? That sounds like it'd be a lot of hard work,” she commented. He let out a chuckle.

“It is actually quite impossible. But zankfully she had help from a magical imp zat she made a deal vith. He vould spin zee straw into gold and she vould gife up somesink in return.”

“Like what?” Her eyes were alight with awe and delight, and Caleb wondered if she had ever heard this story before. It was certainly one his father enjoyed telling him, and one he enjoyed because of it.

“Vell zee first sink she vas to gife him vas her necklace, zee second vas her ring. By zee zird day zee king vas eager to marry her and told her zat if she vere to spin zis room’s straw into gold zat zey vould be ved. If she could not she vould be executed.” He couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips despite the horrible implications of his story so far.

“Oh noes! Poor girl!” Jester gasped. She placed both of her hands over her open mouth in shock. She was truly getting enraptured in this story, and for his part, Caleb was enjoying telling it to her if only to see her reaction to the story beats. She was the perfect listener, and he couldn’t be happier. He wondered momentarily if this was how his parents had felt when they were telling him stories when he was a boy. A smile crossed his lips for the briefest of moments as a flood of fondness and sadness washed over him at the same time.

“Zee imp agreed to spin zee straw into gold zis vone last time, and she told him zat she had nosink left vith vhich to gife him.”

“Oh no! What did she do?”

“He told her zat he vould do his little trick if only she vould gife him her firstborn child,” he explained.

“Oh no, her firstborn! You know I never understood why a lot, well maybe not a lot a lot, but like a lot of stories threaten to kill or like hurt someone's firstborn. But why?” He chuckled.

“I'm not sure, Jester,” he said with a shrug. He didn’t continue with his story straight away and she shifted impatiently.

“Come on, go on with the story. What happened to the girl and to her firstborn? Did she accept his deal?” she begged. He chuckled again. He was doing that an awful lot tonight. She was so eager to know the rest of the story, and he couldn’t be happier to hold all the cards. He could change the story if he so chose, and she would be none the wiser. Not that he would do that, but the idea did run its course through his mind.

“Zee fair maiden did in fact take zee deal vith zee strange little imp. So zis imp used his magic and spun zee straw into gold. And zee king saw zis and vas immediately happy. Zey vere married zee next day. Seferal monzs later zee girl became pregnant and gafe birth to a healzy child.”

“Did the imp come back?”

“Ja. He did, and he demanded zee child from her. She refused and instead offered him all zee wealth in zee kingdom, vhich he did not vant. Zey argued for a vhile before comink to anozer agreement. If she could guess his name correctly vithin zree days time he vould rescind his original deal and she could keep her child. Zee first day he came to her and she guessed a name, and he shook his head. ‘Zat’s not my name. You hafe two more days,’ he told her. He came back zee next day and again she guessed a name. And again she vas vrong. She vas losink hope zat she vould efer figure out zee imp’s name. She vas so upset zat she vould be losink her child zat she took a valk zhrough zee voods. She kept vanderink for hours until she finally came upon a remote mountain cottage,” he paused here to take a breath. Jester was staring at him in rapt attention. Her hands rested on her chin and her tail was twitching in anticipation. Anyone who knew Caleb knew that he hated being the center of attention, but now having Jester’s full attention didn’t bother him as much as it normally would.

“She also saw a fire burnink. She crept to zee fire and saw zee imp dancink and singink around it. He sang, ‘Tonight, tonight, my plans I make. Tomorrow, tomorrow, zee baby I take. Zee queen vill nefer vin zee game. For Rumpelstilzchen is my name.’ Zee queen snuck back zee vay she came. She vould be ready for zee little imp vhen he came zee next day. So he came to her zee follovink day, and she pretended to not know vat his name vas for a moment or two before finally refealink zat she knew his name to be Rumpelstilzchen.”

“I bet he was preeety mad about that,” Jester said.

“Ja, he vas. He lost his temper and accused her of cheatink, vhich she denied. Vith her tellink him his name zeir bargain from earlier vas broken and zee little imp stormed off in anger, nefer to be seen again. And zat’s zee end of zee story,” he told her. A round of enthusiastic applause sounded from all around him. He cried out a curse in Zemnian in alarm. With himself so focused on telling the story and on staring at Jester, he hadn’t noticed his party’s members had all woken up to listen to his story. Beau’s laughter was what clued him in on that little fact.

“That was a mighty fine bit of story telling there, Caleb,” Fjord complimented.

“Yeah, it was nice,” Caduceus added.

“We should do this more often,” Nott suggested.

“What? Tell stories to each other?” Beau asked. She nodded.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Don’t know,” Beau said with a shrug.

“Well, I liked the story,” Yasha said shyly. Jester nodded eagerly in agreement.

“Ja, me too!” she was only too happy to add. She grinned broadly at him.

“And the storytelling was really good too!” she added with a wink. Caleb was truly a brilliant shade of vermillion now. He didn’t want the others to know that it wasn’t just because of his shame at having his secret storytelling be found out.

“Well, let’s get on the road again! Daylight’s wasting,” Beau commanded as she stretched her arms to the sky. As her words, the rest of the Nein scattered and went about their own preparations for the day. It was then that he realized that his ever present dome had long disappeared and that the sun had already risen. How was it that his keen mind neglected to remind him of the time when he was telling his story? He had a few ideas as to why, but the most prominent one buzzing in his skull was the presence of the blue skinned tiefling still hovering next to him.

“Did you need somesink, Jester?” he asked.

“No. I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed your story, Cayleb. It was really nice, and I especially liked hearing you tell it. I’ve always liked your accent,” she whispered shyly. A flush appeared on both their faces simultaneously.

“I like your accent as vell, Jester. I alvays hafe,” he confessed. She smiled and he smiled back.

“I hope we can do this again soon. It was really fun,” she admitted. He nodded. She came up beside him and leaned down to place a gentle peck onto his cheek. His cheeks only turned a deeper shade of crimson as he shyly smiled at her. She helped him to his feet and the two parted ways with a final smile.