#I don't want to verify as a human
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This seems a little ironic.
In order to use Microsoft's AI Copilot search on Bing you have to prove that you are a human.
Let me say that again.
You have to be a human in order to use the AI search on Bing.
You have to be human to talk to AI.
I hope this is just some kind of safety feature so the various AI's don't try to communicate with each other, create their own language, and plan to take over the world (AGAIN)?
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There's a viral video circulating from the Fort Worth Zoo, of two keepers who ended up in a habitat at the same time as a silverback gorilla. Spoiler for good news: neither the humans nor the gorilla got hurt. It's a bad situation that ended extremely well, and that's why I want to talk about it.
The audio for this video is mostly someone praying loudly, so if you need to turn the audio off to watch it, you won't miss anything relevant. If you don't want to watch it, here's the summary: it starts with a keeper running around the corner into the main exhibit, pursued by a large male gorilla. She is quickly able to get into a doorway at the back of the exhibit, but does not completely close the door because the gorilla is standing across from her, watching. He eventually moves off to the right hand side of the exhibit, where we can see a keeper is trapped in the corner at the front. She was trying to move towards the exit as he moved to the right, and she stops, standing very still behind a tree, while he stays along the far right wall. They stay like that for a minute, and then the gorilla runs to the front right corner, and the keeper is able to run to the door in the back of the exhibit and get to safety.
Let's start with basic information. Even though it's just going viral now, this video is from October of 2023. It was taken not by a guest, but by the zoo security officer responding to the situation. Hmmm, seems like he maybe should have been doing something else during that situation, instead of than taking a phone video. It's going viral now because the guy (who is no longer employed at the zoo) decided to post it on TikTok for his five minutes of fame. This guy immediately started giving all sorts of media interviews, answering questions like "why no tranquilizers" inappropriately, making memes out of his own video, generally distasteful shit.
Zoo spokesperson Avery Elander gave a public statement that "thankfully, there was no physical contact between keepers and gorilla, and all staff and animals are safe." A comment from the zoo has also indicated that the incident was due to keeper error. (As opposed to, for instance, something in the fencing breaking.) According to the guy who posted the video, a lock was left unsecured and the gorilla was able to open the door to the habitat. I don't know if I buy it, and again, this just... is probably why he doesn't have a job anymore. By sharing that detail - real or not - he places a ton of public scrutiny and blame on that keeper team. (If that's what happened, I can promise you it will have been dealt with internally.) He also was nice enough to say he wouldn't name the women in the video... but verified they're still staffers at the zoo... which means they're eminently identifiable! Excuse me while I ragequit for a second.
So there's two reasons I wanted to talk about this. The first is to make sure it is well known that this guy is purposefully and intentionally exploiting the worst day of someone's life for media attention. Their lives were in danger, and he's using it for fame. His name is in the media articles - I'm not going to share it because he doesn't deserve that attention. The second reason, though, is because this video is a masterclass on how to survive if you end up sharing space with a gorilla. Every zoo person I've spoken to or seen comment on the video is so, so impressed with how the keepers handled themselves.
The gorilla in this video is 34-year-old Elmo. All apes in AZA zoos are managed in protected contact, so keepers are supposed to be separated from them by a barrier at all times. The zookeepers were in the habitat putting out a mid-day meal when he got out. Watching the video, you can see he's not actively being aggressive towards them - he's not making threat displays or trying to approach them. Mostly, Elmo seems like he doesn't know what is going on and he's kinda freaked out about it. (This is confirmed in the zoo's press statement, too). The staff stayed calm, and importantly, watched and waited to see how he'd move and act.
The zoo did say one thing, though, that's a bit misleading. In one article, their press person I quote as saying “In general, gorillas are considered the “gentle giants” of the great ape species.” Just because this may be true in comparison to other great ape species doesn't meant gorilla aren't still incredibly dangerous. This type of messaging always worries me, because I think it leads people to misunderstand the risks of being close to megafauna. Gorilla are extremely strong animals, and their social norms/behaviors are very different from that of humans. That's why it's such a big deal any time people end up in gorilla habitats, and why sometimes in those circumstances lethal measures have to be taken to protect human life.
These keepers are incredibly lucky to be unharmed. These women stayed safe specifically because they're trained professionals who knew how to act around gorilla, they knew this particular animal well, and they'd learned the escapes from the exhibit just in case this ever happened. We should applaud them for their cool heads and quick thinking.
As for the guy who posted the video? As a colleague put it, may he always step on a Lego.
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Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03
In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.
So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.
Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."
People. In. Love.
In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.
Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.
Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.
Aziraphale:
Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?
#ineffable husbands#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#aziracrow#aziraphale x crowley#crowley x aziraphale#good omens meta#good omens 2
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ETA: I wrote up a guide on clues that a foraging book was written by AI here!
[Original Tweet source here.]
[RANT AHEAD]
Okay, yeah. This is a very, very, very bad idea. I understand that there is a certain flavor of techbro who has ABSOLUTELY zero problem with this because "AI is the future, bro", and we're supposed to be reading their articles on how to use AI for side hustles and all that.
I get that ID apps have played into people's tendency to want quick and easy answers to everything (I'm not totally opposed to apps, but please read about how an app does not a Master Naturalist make.) But nature identification is serious stuff, ESPECIALLY when you are trying to identify whether something is safe to eat, handle, etc. You have to be absolutely, completely, 100000% sure of your ID, and then you ALSO have to absolutely verify that it is safely handled and consumed by humans.
As a foraging instructor, I cannot emphasize this enough. My classes, which are intended for a general audience, are very heavy on identification skills for this very reason. I have had (a small subsection of) students complain that I wasn't just spending 2-3 hours listing off bunches of edible plants and fungi, and honestly? They can complain all they want. I am doing MY due diligence to make very sure that the people who take my classes are prepared to go out and start identifying species and then figure out their edibility or lack thereof.
Because it isn't enough to be able to say "Oh, that's a dandelion, and I think this might be an oyster mushroom." It's also not enough to say "Well, such-and-such app says this is Queen Anne's lace and not poison hemlock." You HAVE to have incredibly keen observational skills. You HAVE to be patient enough to take thorough observations and run them through multiple forms of verification (field guides, websites, apps, other foragers/naturalists) to make sure you have a rock-solid identification. And then you ALSO have to be willing to read through multiple sources (NOT just Wikipedia) to determine whether that species is safely consumed by humans, and if so if it needs to be prepared in a particular way or if there are inedible/toxic parts that need to be removed.
AND--this phenomenon of AI-generated crapola emphasizes the fact that in addition to all of the above, you HAVE to have critical thinking skills when it comes to assessing your sources. Just because something is printed on a page doesn't mean it's true. You need to look at the quality of the information being presented. You need to look at the author's sources. You need to compare what this person is saying to other books and resources out there, and make sure there's a consensus.
You also need to look at the author themselves and make absolutely sure they are a real person. Find their website. Find their bio. Find their social media. Find any other manners in which they interact with the world, ESPECIALLY outside of the internet. Contact them. Ask questions. Don't be a jerk about it, because we're just people, but do at least make sure that a book you're interested in buying is by a real person. I guarantee you those of us who are serious about teaching this stuff and who are internet-savvy are going to make it very easy to find who we are (within reason), what we're doing, and why.
Because the OP in that Tweet is absolutely right--people are going to get seriously ill or dead if they try using AI-generated field guides. We have such a wealth of information, both on paper/pixels and in the brains of active, experienced foragers, that we can easily learn from the mistakes of people in the past who got poisoned, and avoid their fate. But it does mean that you MUST have the will and ability to be impeccably thorough in your research--and when in doubt, throw it out.
My inbox is always open. I'm easier caught via email than here, but I will answer. You can always ask me stuff about foraging, about nature identification, etc. And if there's a foraging instructor/author/etc. with a website, chances are they're also going to be more than willing to answer questions. I am happy to direct you to online groups on Facebook and elsewhere where you have a whole slew of people to compare notes with. I want people's foraging to be SAFE and FUN. And AI-generated books aren't the way to make that happen.
#foraging#mushroom foraging#plant foraging#mushrooms#edible plants#edible mushrooms#wild foods#food#nature#AI#fungus#fungi#poisonous mushrooms#poisonous plants#botany#mycology#rant
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Imagine aliens being introduced to ice skating.
"Welcome everyone to the 94323th annual Talent Show! We have contestants from species from all across the galaxy showing off their amazing talents! For our first contestant, we have Kalk, a human from Earth, the first human to be our contestant!"
"Yes, Zill, unfortunately Kalk could not show off their talent live on stage, and instead sent us a video. We did send a witness to verify and record their performance so it wasn't faked. Our witness did tell us before the show that we really needed to see this."
"We are starting the video. There's Kalk outside on a frozen lake. Their giving us a bow which is a customary human greeting, and—are we sure this isn't faked? There's no way they could move across ice like that."
"I think they can, hold up they just lifted a leg—ARE THOSE BLADES ON THEIR FEET????"
"That must explain how they're moving like that. Kalk is turning around very sharply and dancing on the ice, which is very impressive and very terrifying. Our witness do not mention if Kalk was injured, so I don't think they're going to fall in the water—okay how are they balancing on one leg like that for so long??"
"Humans have been known as daredevils to use their term, but I've never seen something like this and KALK JUMPED AND SPUN IN MIDAIR! To use a human turn of phase, what the fuck??"
"I completely agree, and Kalk seemed to be about to do another jump... and it was a perfect landing! I've never been so terrified that a contestant may hurt themselves, but this is amazing!"
"And Kalk started to spin on the ice, very very fast, and I'm worried their blades will crack the ice underneath them... and they're moved away from that spot thank goodness."
"And they're about to do another jump and... they land on one foot! That appears to be the end of the performance! Kalk gives a bow... and that's it! Well, what did you think of that Zill?"
"I thought it was terrifying but spectacular. Our other contestants have to really step it up if they want to surpass Kalk."
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Sponsored By
Ironically, the most eventful day in the careers of Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had nothing to do with ghosts. The two had just returned from the supermarket and were carrying in the groceries, when the shadow in the corner began to speak.
"We need to talk."
"GHOST!"
The couple were on their back before they could draw their weapons.
"You are the foremost experts in the field of ecto-biology," said Batman as if he hadn't just brought down a three hundred pound man and a ninth-degree black-belt before either of them could realize he'd moved, "I have questions regarding your sponsor."
"Sweetie, is the Batman in our living room?" asked Jack.
"I do believe he is," replied Maddie as she stood up and patted the dust off her clothes, "you know, you could have called for an appointment. We'd have made time."
"In the 80's, the two of you had your doctorate studies rescinded due to your studies in what you called "ecto-science"," he stated, ignoring their indignation, "yet you now live in an upper-middle class neighborhood and spend thousands of dollars a year on technology that didn't have a proper proof-of-concept until recently."
"What's your point?" asked Jack.
"Where is the money coming from?"
"If you must know, we have a sponsor," replied Maddie, "after our dean proved to be too small-minded for our research, we were approached by a man who was more open to the possibility of inter-dimensional research."
"He wanted us to study ghosts!" cut in Jack, "He even gave us our very first sample of ectoplasm!"
"That one sample was the backbone of our research for years, until we got our portal running."
"You never asked where he got that sample from?"
"He seemed like a trust-worthy fellow," dismissed Maddie, "all he asks is for copies of our experiments and for ectoplasm from our portal."
"What sort of experiments?"
"Well, at first we needed to verify the psycho-active behavior of the sample," recalled Maddie, "if you give me a second, I have my research around here somewhere."
"You took the sample to several morgues," Batman told them, "the sample's most drastic and extreme behavior occurred when it was placed close to bodies who had a history of violent and anti-social behavior in life."
"Maddie, the League's reading our papers!" Jack giggled excitedly, "But yes, it's how we know that all ghosts are evil ectoplasmic scum!"
"You never questioned the origin of the sample?"
"It was the only sample we had," pointed out Maddie, "but it's properties matched all of our theories."
"The man you spoke with was Ra's al Ghul," he informed them, dropping a folder full of pictures and documents for them to peruse, "thousands of years ago, Ra's found a well of green water that is now known as a Lazarus Pit. Using its power, he has rejuvenated himself time and again to maintain his position as the head of the League of Assassins. After some experimentation, he found the same pits could keep his forces alive, even in death.
"Over time, the League came across a problem that threatened their continued existence. They were consuming the Pit's water faster than it was replenishing itself. After much experimentation, they found a solution. At the moment of death, when the human soul passes over to the Infinite Realms, what you call the Ghost Zone, a small amount of ectoplasm leaks over to our side."
"Wait, you don't mean...?" Maddie trailed off, horror settling in.
"Ra's killed people en masse to replenish his pool," affirmed Batman, "further experimentation revealed that people who died in a state of extreme fear or pain provided more ferocious soldiers. That is where your sample came from.
"In it's neutral state, ectoplasm reacts equally to all emotional ranges. Repeated exposure to emotional extremes will imprint the ectoplasm, causing it to react more strongly to a specific emotional range than to others. The negative emotions of Ra's victims imprinted on the ectoplasm, resulting in your skewed results."
"Wait, how would you know that?" demanded Maddie, "We're the foremost experts on ecto-science and we didn't know that!"
He pulled out a thick folder and slammed it onto the table.
"I had my research peer-reviewed."
"By who?" asked Jack, "We looked all over and couldn't find anyone in the scientific community!"
"You weren't looking in the right place. There is a branch of the Justice League that specializes in the supernatural, ghosts and demons chief among them. They want me to bring you in."
"Really!? Did you hear that Mads! We're being recruited by the Justice League!"
"They want me to arrest you," Batman corrected them, "for illegal poaching of innocent and neutral spirits, particularly after last week's attack on their newest member, Danny Phantom."
"The Ghost Boy!?" roared Jack, "That no-good ectoscum made the League before we did!?"
"I have watched his fights. He takes care to avoid collateral damage and only appears when other ghosts attack, sometimes at great personal cost."
"Look, Mr. Batman," sighed Maddie in a condescending tone, "we've fought the ghost boy for years. He has a history of crime and violence. If you look far enough, you'll find-."
Batman had no time for nonsense.
"The League has already looked into the incidents. All show indications of either coercion or mind control."
"Ghosts are deceitful and conniving-!"
"We have already established that your initial sample skewed your results," he cut Jack off, "this would imply that all of your research and experiments need to be reassessed, including your opinions towards ghosts in general.
"Regarding Ra's al Ghul, you will need to continue working with him. Cutting contact suddenly may put you and your family in danger."
That caught their attention.
"What do we need to do?" asked Jack, all jokes and outrage immediately tossed out the window.
"Keep doing your research with this new information in mind. Your experiments have been applied to the Lazarus Pits, resulting in unstable results. Recent subjects have come out in a mindless rage, while others have shown no effect on their mind, and yet others have had no effect. Ra's is already skeptical of your continued collaboration. If you provide him with research based off this new information, he may decide you are not worth his time or money. When it comes to Ra's, your best option is dismissal to irrelevance. You do not want to make an enemy out of him."
"It's not just that," admitted Maddie, "if we were the only ones being affected, we'd simply let him know we're exploring new horizons outside of ecto-science. The thing is, we have two children, one in college and one near graduation."
He gave them a card. "Call that number. All of their college expenses will be taken care of."
"I... Bruce Wayne?" read out Jack.
"We've collaborated before, he is trustworthy," he reassured them, "the next part is up to you. Will you be scientists, or poachers?"
Their lights flickered, and he was gone.
#dp x dc#batman#jack fenton#madeline fenton#kinda messed with the Lazarus Pit's canon#but it's not like I'm the only one who's done that#so whatever#I do hope I got the Fentons' overconfidence right though
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I keep being told to "adapt" to this new AI world.
Okay.
Well first of all, I've been training myself more and more how to spot fake images. I've been reading every article with a more critical eye to see if it's full of ChatGPT's nonsense. I've been ignoring half the comments on stuff just assuming it's now mostly bots trying to make people angry enough to comment.
When it comes to the news and social issues, I've started to focus on and look for specific journalists and essayists whose work I trust. I've been working on getting better at double-checking and verifying things.
I have been working on the biggest part, and this one is a hurdle: PEOPLE. People whose names and faces I actually know. TALKING to people. Being USED to talking to people. Actual conversations with give and take that a chat bot can't emulate even if their creators insist they can.
All of this combined is helping me survive an AI-poisoned internet, because here's what's been on my mind:
What if the internet was this poisoned in 2020?
Would we have protested after George Floyd?
A HUGE number of people followed updates about it via places like Twitter and Tiktok. Twitter is now a bot-hell filled with nazis and owned by a petulant anti-facts weirdo, and Tiktok is embracing AI so hard that it gave up music so that its users can create deepfakes of each other.
Would information have traveled as well as it did? Now?
The answer is no. Half the people would have called the video of Floyd's death a deepfake, AI versions of it would be everywhere to sew doubt about the original, bots would be pushing hard for people to do nothing about it, half the articles written about it would be useless ChatGPT garbage, and the protests themselves… might just NOT have happened. Or at least, they'd be smaller - AND more dangerous when it comes to showing your face in a photo or video - because NOW what can people DO with that photo and video?
The things I mentioned earlier will help going forward. Discernment. Studying how the images look, how the fake audio sounds, how the articles often talk in circles and litter in contradictory misinformation. and PEOPLE.
PEOPLE is the biggest one here, because if another 2020-level event happens where we want to be protesting on the streets by the thousands, our ONLY recourse right now is to actually connect with people. Carefully of course, it's still a protest, don't use Discord or something, they'll turn your chats over to cops.
But what USED to theoretically be "simple" when it came to leftist organizing ("well my tweet about it went viral, I helped!") is just going to require more WORK now, and actual personal communication and connection and community. I know if you're reading this and you're American, you barely know what that feels like and I get it. We're deprived of it very much on purpose, but the internet is becoming more and more hostile to humanity itself. When it comes to connecting to other humans… we now have to REALLY connect to other humans
I'm sorry. This all sucks. But adapting usually does.
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on my knees begging and sobbing for more freminet content
maybe afab!freminet x vampire!reader ??? owo
Freminet x vampire reader
Pairings: Freminet x reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, vampire!reader, sub/bottom!Freminet, trans Freminet, consuming blood, biting, hair pulling, eating out, fluff
Genre/Format: Smut; Headcannons & scenarios
Author's Note: As usual, Freminet is 20+ — Woohoo more vampire HCs!! I hope you enjoy these, dear anon :D
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
Oh this little cutie...he's so so shy and timid, you truly want to eat him up
Vampires are predators, and the way that Freminet instinctually tried to escape when your sharp fangs went to pierce his skin for the first time set your own instincts in motion
Whenever you both felt a bit more playful he would take advantage of these instincts:
“Run all you like, little one. We both know who's faster~” You purred dangerously, stalking after your beloved as he turned the corner in your large abode. Running down yet another hallway with his heart pounding in his eardrums from the excitement of this little game you both liked to play. The familiar clicking of your footsteps on the wooden floors pulled his full attention behind him, though the human had no time to react as a strong hand reached out and yanked his frail body backwards by his hair
“See? I told you running was useless. What will you do now, darling?” Freminet always found your voice extra sexy when you hunted and inevitably caught him, whimpering as your breath fanned against his sensitive ears
The human grasped at your arm, begging for you to claim what was rightfully yours. “Ah! N-no please...I'm sorry...I'll let you bite me, I-I promise I'll b-be good now...” Freminet stammered, pressing back against your chest
While the young blond was fearful when you first met, he soon grew to adore you just as much as you adored him
The way you treat him gently and kindly, helping him during conversations when his social anxiety acts up, sends his heart aflutter
Freminet viewed himself as weak and even useless sometimes, but you knew that those things weren't true. You helped him speak of himself a bit more kindly, praising his efforts and ingraining positivity into his pretty little head whenever possible
The human was especially insecure about what existed in between his legs, or rather...what didn't
But, as usual, you couldn't have that. What kind of lover would you be if you let your darling think of himself so poorly?
“Oooohh~ Oh y/n... d-don't tease me like– Ah!” Freminet gasped as your lips connected with the fragile skin on his thigh again. Another bruise blooming on the surface from your harsh sucking
“Sorry, baby. I can't help it, I just love your thighs so much~” You whispered against his skin, trailing feather-soft kisses upwards until you reached the area around his entrance, giving his cunt a few kitten licks while he mewled in embarrassment
Freminet bucked into your mouth as you began licking and sucking on his sensitive pussy, lapping up the slick dripping out the longer you teased him. Using your thumb and forefinger to spread his lips apart, your tongue dipped fully inside of your lover's heat, penetrating him as a moan escaped your lips. It was a well known fact that human blood tasted delicious, or else your kind wouldn't so eagerly feed from them, but who knew that a human's other fluids could taste this good too?
“Mmm~ Angel, you are so amazing. You know that?” The compliment caught Freminet by surprise, earning a squeak of embarrassment in return while he turned his head to the side as an attempt to hide the growing blush on his freckled cheeks. The reaction caused you to chuckle, swiftly returning to devouring the adorable man's pussy, using your fingers to pinch and rub at the puffy clit just above his entrance. Your tongue continued exploring the wet hole long after Freminet had cum, graciously tasting every drop that he provided for you, even as painfully pleasant overstimulation kicked in
Human blood is similar to any food or drink that they would consume; everyone has their own distinct flavor profile, even amongst the same blood type
Freminet's blood is crisp, refreshing, and slightly cooler than most humans' tend to be (perhaps due to his cryo affinity?)
Though he is a more timid individual, he oh so enjoys your feeding sessions. Sometimes he even begs you to bite down or suck harder, clawing at your back and leaving angry red scratches on your skin
The aphrodisiac that vampires inject with their bite turns Freminet into the most adorable whimpering mess, begging to take your cock as if he needs it to survive
And you happily give into his desires~
If Freminet begs you to pound him against the wall or bend him over something, you do just that
If Freminet begs you to fill his cunt with cum until it's gushing out around your dick, you do just that
If Freminet begs you to pull his hair, slap him, spank him, or spit on/in him, you do just that
Your human is just too precious. You're always trying to indulge in his kinky requests, eager to be a good master for the boy
Especially because, after it's all over, you're the one who gets to soothe him. Singing his praises while you caress his darling little body, kissing him breathless while his pretty blue eyes flutter closed, falling into a content deep sleep
Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
#my writing#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact#freminet#freminet smut#freminet x reader#sub freminet#trans freminet#male reader#dom reader#top reader#vampire reader#vampire au#halloween specials 🎃#headcannons#requested
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ai generated mushroom guides could get people killed
'i'm not going to link any of them here, for a variety of reasons, but please be aware of what is probably the deadliest AI scam i've ever heard of: plant and fungi foraging guide books. the authors are invented, their credentials are invented, and their species IDs will kill you"
"update: i keep getting annoyed that the QTs are like "if this is true, it's horrifying" ..but you're right, you don't know me from a hole in the ground and you SHOULD worry about the veracity of anything you find online."
thread source
so i went looking
the full description:
How to quickly become a confident mushroom forager without fear of misidentifying poisonous lookalikes!
Have you dreamt about becoming more self-sufficient and sourcing your own fresh, local ingredients?
Do you want to start sustainably foraging so you can become healthier and happier?
Have you thought about harvesting wild mushrooms but afraid you won’t be able to tell the edible and poisonous species apart?
Then this book is for you!
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How to correctly create (and use) spore prints to help you figure out what’s what
An annual mushroom calendar so you can keep track of the mushrooms by season and make the most of each foraging season
Detailed descriptions of the anatomical properties of fungi - gain the essential knowledge you need to correctly identify species
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end description
wild harvest publications... no named author? i n t e r e s t i n g
"To keep it economically prices" hmm *the design is very human meme*
this book that promises highly detailed descriptions doesn't even have color images unless you pay a premium
"Mushroom hunting is easier than you think, and less dangerous than everyone assumes." hmm. hmmmmm. yeah the government definitely put out those 'if you don't know what it is don't put it in your mouth' PSAs for no reason
tldr don't buy foraging guides off amazon if you can't locate a human author and verify their credentials yourself
#mushrooms#fungi#fungus#ai#amazon#foraging#we live in the worst timeline#incorrect foraging guides is like something a hostile government would distribute to kill dissidents about to go into hiding in the woods#but no its idiots who want to make money#mushroom identification#mushrooming
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After watching your most recent video, I've had some old potentially-therian/otherkin feelings reawakened in me, and I've felt a bit more validated in them (along with some potential multiple-selves feelings, but those aren't as relevant right now). But with them have also returned a lot of anxieties about whether they're "real" feelings of being an animal (specifically a raccoon), or if they're... I don't know, something else that I'm misinterpreting. This might be an extremely stupid question, but I was wondering if you had any advice about how to determine to what extent I not-human and verify my feelings, or barring that, how to shut those anxieties the fuck up, just embrace this identity, and be okay with it?
If you're skeptical and want to take a more secular approach to otherkin/plural identity, think of it like an artistic lens you use to view yourself. You're a raccoon because you can apply a folkloric raccoon lens to your identity and behavior & it makes sense as a story. Like guys who look at the joker and say "he's literally me," they're correct in a way, aren't they? What do we gain from separating that kind of strong identification from notions of being? Maybe you just like applying a raccoon metaphor to your life, maybe you just want to name a part of you and give them a voice in your head. Feeling these things secularly and feeling them spiritually, not very different.
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Just A Kiss
Joining the congrats train for @withacapitalp, happy birthday Liam! You're not escaping the frog theme and cursed Steve, not on my watch.
"Look man, I don't really care if you're actually a prince, a model or a lying hobo, the answer is still no."
The frog looked at him with so much sass Eddie actually considered caving in, but...nah. It was disgusting. Even though it looked kind of cute with that weird pattern on its head that looked like a really fluffy mane of hair, light brown eyes and slight pout. "Like it's going to kill you, man," it croaked out and Eddie took another drag from his cigarette. Talking frogs. Yep, just another normal day in Hawkins.
"Look, even if I wanted to, which I don't - zoofilia isn't cool under any pretense, just for your info - I'm pretty sure I'm just high as a kite. You're a frog, which duh, you probably know that, but...uh. I don't want to wake up in the morning with the unsettling knowledge that I smooched some poor non-consenting animal and all I got from that was some rash on my mouth. Hey, can animals even consent? That's...no, you can't." One more drag of his cigarette. Maybe two. Make it another cigarette, shit. He didn't think that one joint was so strong.
The frog rolled his eyes again. "I'm not telling you to go and such face with a dolphin or something. Plus animals don't give consent because they a) can't talk, b) aren't cursed human beings. Like yours truly."
Eddie bit the filter in a futile attempt to sober up. Didn't help. "So you've said. Cursed human. Sorry if I don't believe you, froggy."
"It's Steve."
Eddie snorted out the smoke through his nose. "Steve. A frog named Steve."
There it was, that adorable eye roll again. "It's a temporary frog, otherwise full-time human Steve." It even tried to put its...paws? No, not paws, frogs don't have paws, legs? Front legs? Cute legs. Those, on its...hips? Eddie didn't know enough about frog anatomy but hell. It was adorable.
He giggled, brushing back his hair. "Sure, full-time human Steve. Is this a part-time job, then? A hobby?"
"A fucking curse, that's what it is." The frog almost growled, except it ended the annoyed tone with an unintentional ribbit. "Shit. Have you ever had hiccups? This - ribbit - oh god fuck why - ribbit - is worse."
Eddie just shook his head, wondering if he'd remember this trip the next day. He hoped so. "You'd think it would be natural to you." When the frog - sorry, Steve - just stared, he corrected himself. "For a frog, I mean. Which you're obviously not, except now you are-"
"Which part of a it-was-a-curse-from-an-old-hag-my-dad-pissed-off-a-few-decades-ago don't you understand? Ribbit, god make it stop-"
"Pretty much everything that wasn't a ribbit, pal," grinned Eddie and lit another cigarette. But it was a bit too quiet and when he turned to part-time-frog Steve, he wondered if maybe the trip was finally going away, if he'd just been chilling with an innocent frog for which his nerdy brain made a full page of lore, except- "What?" he asked the frog who was eyeing his smokes.
The frog groaned and tried to rub its still-not-sure-if-leg-or-paw over its forehead. "Look, if you're not willing to put me out of my misery either by - ribbit fuck this - stepping on me or giving me an absolutely consensual kiss, at least give me a cigarette. After the day I've had, I really need it."
"Uhhhh..." Eddie thought for a moment. Was it animal cruelty if he lit up a cigarette and put it next to a frog? The frog didn't have to smoke it, right? And he had no way of verifying if the frog was a minor. In...frog years or whatever.
The frog narrowed its eyes at him. "A kiss or a cigarette, dude. Choose now."
"Geez, so demanding for such a little guy," grumbled Eddie but obliged, lit another cigarette and handed it to the frog...the frog who grabbed it with both palms and took a long drag from it, closing its eyes.
"I really, really needed this," it muttered. Eddie wondered it being a frog would help him save on the smokes. It looked like its lungs were fairly small, one cigarette would last him for ages, but how would he buy them? So many questions...questions interrupted by Steve blowing a tiny puff of smoke from its - his? - mouth and looking at Eddie. "Don't you have better things to do than smoke with a temporary frog on a Friday evening?"
Eddie rolled his eyes. "I liked you better when all you could say was ribbit. But actually no, I'm waiting for a few of my friends."
And wow, could that frog smirk. "Can't wait to meet them."
Eddie was still pretty convinced that kissing a frog was off the table. But when a familiar pizza van parked next to him, Jonathan and Argyle jumping out, he found himself reconsidering. Just a little. Because it would have saved him from the following conversation.
"How are you doing, my man?" smiled Argyle and pulled Eddie into a hug, cracking his spine in the process. Argyle's bear hugs tended to do that.
Jonathan just stood there, staring. "Is that frog smoking a cigarette?"
The world slowed down and Eddie was just about to explain that the weed was a bit too strong this time and he might have hallucinated that the frog was talking to him, but then it blew another cloud of smoke from its tiny mouth and glared at Jonathan. "You've got a problem with that?" it asked in a dangerous croak.
"Oh yeah," offered Eddie weakly, "guys, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jonathan and Argyle."
And Argyle, bless his perpetually stoned heart, just walked towards Steve and shook his front leg/paw/hand/whatever. "Cool, nice to meet you, dude! Hey, do you just smoke cigarettes or are you in for some Purple Palm Tree Delight?"
Full time Steve or whatever just gave a pleased ribbit. "I thought you'd never ask."
And that's how Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle ended up stoned out of their minds...along with a frog. The nights were warm and they ended up napping next to each other in a patch of grass next to the Lover's Lake, setting tiny stoned Steve to the side to make sure no one crushed him in their sleep. And Eddie, in his blissed out state of mind, really didn't look forward to the next morning. Froggy Steve was fun. He liked Steve. He didn't look forward to the moment he'd have to accept that Steve was just a shared hallucination between the three of them.
Except...
Except in the morning, he got woken up by someone cuddling him. And that wasn't unusual, Argyle was a cuddler, except he was wrapped around Jonathan like a very dependent octopus. Maybe it was the blanket. Yes, definitely, the blanket must have fallen off him and crumpled behind his back and-
And the blanket snored.
Flipping around, he found himself face to face with an absolutely gorgeous young man. The bitchy slope of his eyebrow, furrowed in sleep, the numerous moles...Eddie's breath hitched.
Before he realized what was happening, his eyes opened and the lazy smile he gave Eddie made him want to jump in the lake and swim to the other side and back. Just to cool down a little bit. "Morning, Eddie," he yawned and Eddie recognized that voice. With or without the ribbit.
"...Steve?" he tried, and the smile just widened. "Oh god, this is going to sound so weird, but I was really convinced that you were a frog when I met you yesterday."
Steve just stretched those biteable arms above his head and groaned, closing his eyes again. Only then did Eddie notice he was wearing his spare clothes, a bit too tight and mismatched, but it was all he had in the van. "I was a frog, man. Is your memory usually this bad?"
Eddie's mouth hung open. Oh okay. That explained everything. Except it fucking didn't. "Uhhhh...no. I mean. I remembered you being a frog so it's a good thing, no?" Squinting at Steve, he slowly added, "how come you're not a frog anymore?" It sounded stupid, even to him.
But Steve just rolled his eyes with clear affection. "It's what I told you when I met you. A kiss."
"Did I kiss a frog? I mean, you?!" he blurted out before he could catch himself, unsure which one of those two things shocked him more.
One more disapproving head shake. "Shit memory, told you. Nah, it was Argyle. We were high, I mentioned the curse thing and Argyle just said "anything for my bro" and kissed me. I turned back and you...uh. Kind of freaked out because I didn't have any clothes on, so you raced back to your van to get me something. Then we smoked a bit more and went to sleep."
"Oh." Maybe the weed really was stronger than usual because Eddie's mouth had no filter that morning, even more so than usual. "Is it weird that I'm kind of jealous of him?"
Steve opened one eye and smirked at him. "What, you dream of kissing frogs often?"
Eddie hit his shoulder and laughed, mindful of the sleeping pair next to him. "Nope, but sure will dream of kissing you, pretty boy. Unless that would turn you back. Would it?"
There were hands on his hips pulling him down, back to the inviting grass and towards Steve's warm body. "Only one way to find out," he grinned.
#steddie#implied jargyle#steddie ficlet#steddie drabble#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things ficlet
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The Ballad of Orpheus and Eurydice || Geralt of Rivia x nymph!reader
REQUESTED
Summary: Life was good when Geralt was by her side. They were in love and happy... Until they weren't and she was left alone once again. After spending so much time under his protection, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was for creatures like her. Sad and heartbroken, she was unable to defend herself when the men came for her. Now locked up far away from her forest, she only hoped that her loved protector would come to her rescue.
Warnings: angst (with happy ending), major character death, reader gets imprisoned by a evil dude (I don't know how to tag this lol but I think it’s important to mention that she’s forced to serve him), fluff (it’s not all sad, I promise), forest nymph!reader, fem!reader, let me know if I missed anything!
English is not my first language
Word count: 12.700 (it's a long one)
Notes: A few things to have in mind while reading: It follows the timeline very loosely, and Geralt and Yen's relationship never got to that solid point in s3 cause it's not real love, just the product of Geralt binding their fates together with that wish
She never imagined that her story would end like this, locked in a cold and humid dungeon far away from her forest. Nymphs were not immortal beings —something she had come close to verifying several times in her long years on the continent—, so the idea of her inevitable end was something that she had thought about from time to time. It was not something that haunted her obsessively, but every once in a while her mind would wander to the imagining of the end of her days.
She lived a quiet life, making sure to be cautious around any unwanted people who passed through her forest. She had no enemies, at least not ones powerful enough to present a real danger to her. So she always imagined that she would die a peaceful death, slowly fading away as her birth tree withered away after having completed its cycle on this earth. If not, she imagined she would die a heroic death as she fought the greedy humans to prevent the destruction of her forest. Both scenarios brought her a sense of comfort in a way, because they showed that she had fulfilled her life's mission, the purpose for which she had been placed on the continent.
She never imagined that the end of her days would actually be so dark and torturous, forced to live in captivity away from her home and everything she loved. She never thought she would miss the feel of the wind on her face, or the warmth of the early morning sun, or the sweet scent of flowers in the spring. She had never imagined herself living anywhere but her forest, but that was an option that had been taken away from her the moment King Elian's men set foot in her home.
She had heard rumors of his infamous reputation from the mouths of other frightened nymphs. His name inspired terror among magical creatures, who chose to call him The Hunter as if the mere mention of his name was a sign of bad omens. He was known for his obsession with magical creatures and what he did with them after capturing them. Despite what his nickname implied, he did not always chase a magical creature to kill it and display some part of its body as a hunting trophy. No. There was a fate far more horrible and obscure than that, and that was to end up as a piece of his collection, just another exhibit, forced to smile in his presence and perform for his entertainment whenever he wanted it. It was the terrible fate that had unfortunately fallen upon her.
In the past she had not seen King Elian as a threat. His kingdom was on the other side of the continent and while he used to go on hunting trips when he heard rumors of a creature in his vicinity, he had never ventured this far before. Besides, she was under the protection of one of the continent's fiercest witchers, so she knew no one would dare mess with her. No one who knew Geralt of Rivia would dare to challenge him, and the poor bastards who, out of ignorance or arrogance did, usually didn't live to tell the tale. The bond they had was strong, a love unlike any she had ever experienced in her many years of life, so she never thought there would be a day when she would wake up without him by her side.
"The king requires your presence." A guard announced from her cell door, snapping her out of her thoughts. She rose to her feet reluctantly, stepping up to the bars so he could put the handcuffs on her before unlocking her cell. The dimeritium on her wrists was engraved with the same symbols as the bars of the box in which she spent her days. It was a powerful incantation that weakened her magic so that she could not use her powers to escape. It was painful since the metal burned her skin, but she had learned the hard way not to complain.
The guard led her to the throne room, where the king was shouting directions to the group of servants working on decorating the place, changing the curtains and adding chairs and tables to the sides of the room. She had been there long enough to know that the castle was being prepared for a feast, though she did not know what the celebratory occasion was.
She forced herself to bow when the king's eyes fell upon her figure, though her expression showed how little respect she truly had for him. "Your majesty." She murmured as a learned response as she lowered her gaze to the ground.
"I hope you used your time in the dungeon to reflect on your attitude." His voice was firm, almost as if he was still angry with her for refusing to comply with his demands almost a week ago when he had wanted to use her to entertain the king of the neighboring kingdom who had come to visit. "You have to understand that you belong to me. You are here to serve me and the only reason you are not dead already is that I find you useful. But that can change and it depends entirely on how you behave. Do I make myself clear?"
She clenched her jaw, biting her tongue to avoid causing a scene that would undoubtedly send her straight to the dungeon again. "Yes, my king." She wasn't able to look him in the eye as she spoke as she didn't want to see the satisfaction in his expression.
"As a demonstration of my great generosity and compassion, I have decided to give you a second chance to prove your loyalty. But do not mistake my mercy for stupidity for this will be your last chance to prove your worth to me. If you say or do anything out of place you will know the sharp blade of my sword."
After she submissively assured him that she understood the seriousness of his words, he explained that he needed her to take care of some of the preparations for the feast in honor of his daughter. During the week the entire kingdom had participated in the celebrations for the girl's fifteenth birthday, an event that would culminate with a grand banquet in the evening. She would be in charge of preparing the floral arrangements that would decorate the entire palace as well as being responsible for the main entertainment since there was nothing to match the singing of a nymph. But in addition, the king put her on a special task. He wanted to give his daughter a beautiful garden with different types of flowers —one for each year of her life—, and she was the perfect person for the job. She accepted without question, not so much because she valued her life or feared reprisals if she refused, but rather because after being locked up for so long she missed being in contact with nature.
"If it's alright with you, my lord, I would like to start with the garden." She said in the most respectful way possible, explaining that with her powers weakened it was the task that would take the most work.
She was escorted by a group of half a dozen guards, who grabbed her roughly by the arms and dragged her through the castle corridors to the garden. Normally she would have complained about their mistreatment, but it all stopped mattering to her when she felt the gentle breeze hit the skin of her face. It was a wonderful feeling smelling the wet dirt in the air and hearing the birds singing after having spent so much time locked up in the deepest part of the castle. It almost felt like freedom.
Working in the garden awakened a bittersweet feeling in her. On the one hand, it was the most comfortable she had been since she arrived at the castle. Walking barefoot on the grass, feeling the earth between her toes and the flowers growing under her hands was as close to home as she had ever been. It was liberating in a way, putting her powers to good use and connecting with the nature she missed so much. But, on the other hand, it was also a reminder of all that she had lost, the life she would never get back. As much as she loved being outside after so many days locked up, she couldn't help but notice that nothing felt like home. The flowers didn't smell the same, the grass under her feet wasn't as soft, and even the birds didn't sing the same. That wasn't her home. This was not her forest.
As she buried her hands in the ground, she couldn't help but question what she was doing, and more importantly, why she was doing it. Sure, avoiding further punishment for disobeying the king's orders was a valid motivation, but was it really worth it? Why was she trying to preserve her life when the only future she had was to live locked up there forever? Was dying such a terrible fate when the alternative was imprisonment and slavery? A life away from her home, forced to indulge the whims of a power-hungry monster was no life at all, so why was she there obeying the orders of that disgusting man?
Then she realized that she still held out hope of escaping. Her spirit wasn't completely crushed and her love for Geralt wasn't entirely gone, so even if it was foolish, she still hoped he would show up to rescue her. They hadn't seen each other for over a year, since that sad day when their story had met an abrupt end after he confessed to her that there was another woman in his life, but she still held out hope of seeing him again. She dreamed of seeing his long white hair move in the air as he skillfully knocked down the guards that separated them and freed her from her confinement. How could she not when he had been her savior on more than one occasion? In fact, that was how they had met.
She was frightened and hurt the first time she saw him, trapped in a cage with symbols carved into the bars. It was a powerful spell that weakened her powers just like the shackles of dimeritium around her wrists. The cage was too small for her, a confined space where she could barely stretch her legs or sit up straight if she wanted to. A group of well-trained men had managed to capture her, taking advantage of her distraction and temporary weakness to lock her up and take her back to their master. She was so terrified that when she heard Geralt's sword clash with that of one of her attackers, she curled up in a corner, her body folding in on itself in an attempt to make herself small and invisible to the group of fighting men.
She recognized immediately that he was a witcher and that brought her no relief. While his kind generally didn't tend to see nymphs as dangerous monsters —as long as they behaved and didn't do anything to end up on their list, of course— she didn't feel completely safe in the presence of a witcher. She tended to hide on the occasions when one passed through her forest, believing it was best to stay away from people like that just in case. After all, they were monster hunters, a concept that, in her experience, meant something different to each individual and there was no way of knowing for sure if she fell into that category or not. So, even though he had overpowered her captors, she still felt fear when he approached.
Geralt felt that fear as soon as he took a step towards her, it was almost as strong as the power and magic that flowed from her being. Her beauty alone was enough to let him know that she was a nymph of the forest. Behind the earth and blood, hidden in a grimace of terror, were the delicate features that the witcher had only seen in the creatures of her kind that he had encountered in the past. The nymphs had a certain look, a special glow that distinguished them from the rest of the magical beings on the continent. They were also one of the gentlest and most peaceful creatures on the continent, focused only on protecting their homes and turning to violence only as a last defense mechanism. That was why Geralt did not sense a drop of evil in her. And that was also why he set out to free her from her confinement.
Even though her captors lay dead on the ground, she still looked terrified, her eyes glassy with tears and her lower lip trembling as she struggled to hold back a sob. When he approached her, the nymph snuggled further into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest in a protective manner. He raised his hands in the air in an attempt to show her that he was not going to hurt her, walking slowly toward the cage so he could release her. It was then that he noticed the symbols on the bars and the dimeritium shackles, which helped him understand how she had ended up there and why she was so scared. She was in a position of extreme vulnerability without her magic and, despite having saved her, he was a complete stranger who could very well cause her more trouble. So the witcher made an effort to appear friendly and non-threatening.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” He told her to try to calm her down, though it wasn't much help. She curled further into the corner of the cage, hugging her legs to her chest and looking up at him with watchful eyes from between her knees.
"I know what you are." She answered him, the fear clear in her voice. "You are a witcher, you kill-"
"Monsters, yes." Geralt spoke for her. "But you are not one of them. You're safe with me."
At that moment she had no way of knowing what kind of impact those words would have on her life and how genuine they were. She accepted his help because she had no other choice, but time would show her how fortunate she had been to cross paths with Geralt. At first he played hard to get, barely speaking as she nursed his wounds once her powers stabilized. She'd had to resort to using her charms a little to soften that hard exterior of his, but once Geralt began to open up to her, she discovered the man he truly was.
Geralt tended to lean into rumors about himself and his kind, pretending to be emotionless and not caring about anything or anyone but himself. But that was all an act, a protective shield. In reality he cared. He was capable of feeling emotions as deeply as any other being on the continent. He hated and held grudges, but he also loved and cared for those close to him just as intensely. And once she discovered that, she found it very easy to love him back.
She was truly safe with him, and in the long years that their love blossomed he did nothing but prove that to her. Geralt was her favorite person in the world. He was her home, her lover, her protector... A love like that was not easily forgotten and no one could blame her for holding out even the slightest hope that he would come for her, that he would somehow sense that she was in danger and rush to her rescue. It had happened in the past, their connection was that strong, so it wasn't an entirely far-fetched idea. It was just... naive of her.
Geralt had been traveling for days. He usually preferred to use alternative paths hidden behind forests or swamps, they were quieter and better for his business. Not many people used them so he didn't run into anyone that would bother him, and it was easy to run into the occasional monster roaming around, so it was a win-win situation for everyone. What he hated, however, was that most of the time it took him twice as long to get to some town where he could rest with minimal comforts and eat a hot meal.
Had he taken the main road he would probably already be at his destination, drinking in the dark corner of some dingy bar or locked in the room of some cheap inn, and not wandering the forest in search of an animal big enough to satisfy his appetite. He didn't mind being outdoors or having to hunt for his food on the spot —-in fact he was so used to that he almost preferred it—, but this time he was tired and couldn't wait to be anywhere but there. Perhaps that was why when he came across a king and his hunting party he accepted his offer to return to his camp to eat with him without putting up much of a fight.
Geralt hated royalty and King Elian was no exception. He was arrogant and self-absorbed, just like the vast majority of kings, but there was something else about him that rubbed the witcher the wrong way. He tried to decline his offer at first, but he was unwilling to take no for an answer.
"I'm afraid I will have to insist. My camp is not far from here and my tent is big and warm. I have more than enough food and I would love to hear some of your stories while we eat." The king insisted, pressing Geralt to accept his offer. "My men don't make for good company and I'm bored. I'm sure a witcher like you has been involved in a good share of adventures that make for fascinating stories."
In any other circumstances, Geralt would have found a way to escape from there. The last thing he wanted was to be used as the personal entertainment of an arrogant king. But this time he decided not to resist too much. He attributed it to his tiredness, he had been traveling for a long time and at least it wouldn't be a sacrifice in vain since he could at least get food in exchange for entertaining him for a while. But perhaps there was something more than that playing a role there. Fate itself had crossed their paths for a reason, even though he didn't know it yet.
"It's not as interesting or glorious as one might think." Geralt said with honesty.
In his experience there were two types of opinions regarding his people and what they did for a living. There were the people who despised them for what they were and believed they were no different than the monsters they killed and there were those who found them fascinating and longed to go on adventures like the ones they often experienced. To him both opinions were bullshit. He wasn't a monster, he didn't kill for pleasure or for fun as many people believed, but neither was he some kind of hero whose life was worthy of being immortalized in songs and poems. He was just a man who did what he knew best to survive, just like all witchers and all beings on the continent. He and his kind did not deserve hatred, but neither did they deserve to be crowned with laurels. They deserved to be left in peace, nothing more, nothing less.
"I have to say I'm grateful for the work you and your kind does." The king continued speaking without acknowledging Geralt's words. It was as if he was not there, his words were of little value to the king when they did not say exactly what he wanted to hear from him. "These creatures are dangerous and can't be left alone to live amongst us. Although some are fascinating creatures if given proper care and purpose."
Geralt looked at the monarch with a frown, unsure of what he meant by that. He said nothing, however, just remained silent for most of their journey to the camp, while trying to get a better read on the man beyond the typical arrogance of all of his kind. There was something about him that he did not like, something that caused a feeling that other kings and nobles did not. It was something more than his simple unpleasant personality, but he could not figure out what it was.
"You should come to my kingdom sometime." King Elian offered as they finally reached what appeared to be the camp where he and his hunting party had set up their base. "I have a collection of creatures I'm sure you would love to see."
The witcher halted his walk, looking at the king with narrowed eyes. "A collection?"
"Oh yes! I have the biggest collection of magical creatures in the whole continent." He admitted as if it was something to be proud of. "I have some pretty rare ones I'm sure you and your people would love to study. You're more than welcome to come over anytime! After all, we are all on the same side."
Geralt did not like the way the king referred to magical creatures and hated that he equated himself with witchers and the work they did. They didn't lock up monsters to brag about their large collection to strangers. They didn't see them as objects that gave them some kind of prestige. They saw them as living creatures, sometimes dangerous, sometimes misunderstood. Witchers did not enslave or kill monsters for fun as he seemed to do and Geralt was disgusted that he would even try to imply such a thing.
However, before he could voice his opinion, the king shoved him into his luxurious tent and the servants set a plate of food in front of him. It was filled with meat and potatoes and vegetables so colorful that they must have been freshly picked. It might have been the hunger talking, but it was the most appetizing food he had tasted in a long time. It was indeed fit for a king and Geralt thought it was definitely worth chatting with his host for a while in exchange for a share, especially after tasting the wine.
"It's good, isn't it?" the king asked him, studying his reaction as he lifted the wine glass to his mouth. "I have someone special that takes care of all the plants in the castle so I only eat the best of the best. It's actually one of my creatures. You can meet her, if you want."
Geralt let go of the piece of meat between his fingers and looked at the king with a frown. There was a subtle change in the air that made him instinctively tense, wondering what his host was up to. The king gave him a small smile before gesturing to one of his men, who left the tent without saying a word. The monarch's menacing aura put the witcher on alert, carefully watching his every move while he ate as if trying to predict what he would do next. His attitude had changed in a matter of seconds. Geralt couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but there was something about the way he looked back at him that put him on edge. It was almost as if he was waiting for something to happen —as if he knew something was going to happen—, the glow of anticipation clear in his eyes.
He didn't understand his attitude, at least not until the guard returned to the tent. Only he wasn't alone, but was carrying a girl on his arm who was shuffling her bare feet across the ground hesitantly, as if she really didn't want to be there. Her eyes were downcast and her long hair was tangled over her face, so that Geralt could not see her features. Her dress, which seemed to have been a beautiful piece of art at one time, was now dirty and worn, with the fabric torn to shreds on some sides. Her hands were bound together at her wrists, trapped by shackles of dimeritium that marked her condition of slavery. It was a sad sight that became horrifying when Geralt smelled the scent of flowers in the air.
His heart stopped as his nostrils were assaulted with the sweet smell of cherry blossom that he knew and had come to love. The world around him stopped as he was struck with the horrible realization of what was happening. He did not need to see the face of the captured young woman to know it was her. It was enough to feel her energy in the tent as he breathed in her characteristic sweet scent.
Geralt jumped to his feet, hand gripping his sword as he entered a state of desperation. He wasn't thinking, he couldn't, he had been reduced to his most primitive instincts by seeing her there in that condition. She was weak and injured in a way that Geralt had never seen, her glow and warm, positive energy almost completely extinguished after being tortured for who knows how long. However, when her eyes met his, he noticed a slight glimmer of joy and hope. That only further increased his desire to protect her, the murderous urge growing inside him and urging him to crush anyone who stood between them.
"Let her go!" Geralt demanded firmly, turning his eyes away from his former lover to look the king in the eyes.
He was furious and desperate, it was evident in his voice and in the hard expression on his face. Anyone would have given in to his demands if he looked at them with those murderous eyes, but King Elian did not flinch. He didn't seem to care that Geralt was pointing his sword at him or that he looked ready to take on an army on his own, he continued to eat as if nothing was happening while the tent filled with guards ready to defend him.
"Please, sit down. You barely touched your food." The monarch spoke in a calm, casual tone. But Geralt did not move, he stood his ground, sword held high and hate-filled eyes fixed on him. "Fate is its a curious thing, don't you agree? This invisible force pushing us to the right path so we might fulfill our destiny, making every little interaction, every little decision, integral... Take this as an example. This morning when I woke up I didn't think that I was going to cross paths with you and yet here we are."
"Let. Her. Go." Geralt interrupted the king's unimportant ramblings, pausing slightly at each word to emphasize his anger. He didn't care what the man had to say, he would slice him through with his sword right there if it weren't for the fact that his sweet nymph was bound and surrounded by guards who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her before he could get to her. "I won't ask again. Next time it will be my sword doing the talking."
"I don't want to fight you, Geralt. If anything, I want to thank you for helping me fulfill my destiny, my purpose of becoming the biggest collector of magical creatures in the continent... You see, if it weren't for you, I could never have captured a forest nymph as powerful as her. I admit that you ruined my plans the first time when you attacked my men, but in the end it was thanks to you that I was able to get my hands on her."
"What are you talking about?" the witcher asked, confused. It could be the adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning out his thoughts —or the fact that his heart was beating so fast that it was pounding in his ears muffling all other sounds—, but the king wasn't making much sense to him. They had never crossed paths before, and if they had, he would never have helped him in something so horrible.
"I could never have caught her while she was under your protection. But when you left... well, let's just say she was withering away little by little, weakening day by day until she got to the point where she couldn't defend herself when my men came for her."
Geralt froze in place as the king's words echoed in his head. It was a lot of information to process and he was in no condition to do so. If he wasn't so devastated he might have reacted to the implication that the king had been watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike after he had saved her from his men the day they had met. But at that moment he could only concentrate on the feelings of guilt and regret that came over him.
When he left, he never thought about the consequences his decision might have. He never thought about how his departure would affect her or if she would be okay. He knew she would be sad and hurt, just as it hurt him to have to leave her, but he also knew it was the right thing to do. So he focused on moving on, hoping she would too, without stopping to consider the consequences. He thought about her a lot in the time they spent apart —when he lay awake at night, admiring the stars and the nocturnal sounds of the woods; or as he dressed quietly after spending a night with Yennefer—, but in his mind he always pictured her happy. She was strong and had lived many years alone on the continent before their paths crossed, so he was sure that their breakup would not destroy her. He was sure that she would find a way to get back on her feet and that it would be better for the both of them to stay apart.
Now he realized that was just an excuse. He was being selfish, protecting himself and running away from reality so as not to face it because it hurted him. It hurted to know that he was hurting her. It hurted that he fell in love with another woman behind her back. It hurted to have to leave her after all they had been through together, the love they shared, the moments of vulnerability and intimacy that had brought them together. It hurted because he had failed her, because he couldn't keep his promise to be with her forever. So he completely disappeared from her life, making excuses to justify his behavior and convince himself that he was doing the right thing even though he knew deep down that he wasn't. He ran away like a coward and she ended up paying the price for it.
The witcher's eyes searched the nymph's, hoping to find in them the answers to the questions he had not asked, some indication that the king was not lying. She escaped his gaze, feeling embarrassed and extremely vulnerable. But eventually their gazes met and Geralt knew the mistake he had made. He should have been there for her. He should have helped her when they came for her. He should have searched for her all over the continent once he noticed her disappearance. He should have protected her, just as he always had. He had failed her twice, but he would not let there be a third.
Geralt carried out his threat without hesitation, lashing out at the nearest soldiers in an effort to reach her. The clinking sound of clashing swords and the groans of his opponents were all that echoed in his mind, focusing on his enemy to keep his head cool and ensure victory. They were no threat to him. They were well trained and knew how to move around very well, but he was a witcher with decades of experience and unmatched reflexes and skills. He had defeated them once in the past and he would do it again now without breaking a sweat.
At least that's what he thought before he heard the voice of the young nymph in the distance calling out for him.
“Geralt!” She exclaimed his name for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Her sweet voice traveled through the air, piercing through the sound of metal and the grunts of pain until it reached his ears. She managed to get his attention immediately as he recognized the hint of fear in it. As he buried his sword in his opponent, his eyes snapped up to her, searching for her in the crowd following the sound of her voice.
When he finally found her, Geralt's heart sank as he discovered the reason for the fear in her voice. The king had his hands around her, holding her tightly against his body. His left hand was wrapped around her torso, restricting her movement, while his right hand wielded a silver dagger against her neck. The metal gleamed in the dim light, revealing the sharp edge that burned the girl's skin. Desperate, Geralt tried to lunge at the monarch, but he stopped him with a click of his tongue.
"One more step and she dies." He assured, firmly. Geralt noticed the honesty in his voice, so he stayed in place and slowly lowered his sword —though he did not drop it—, a desperate attempt to buy time to think of a plan to get out of there with her by his side.
"You don't have to do this." Geralt tried to reason with him even though he knew it was in vain. He didn't see her as more than an object, just another piece in his long collection of creatures, so it was safe to assume he didn't value her life very much. But still, Geralt didn't have much choice so he tried anyway.
"She has been nothing but trouble since the moment she arrived at the castle, isn't that right, darling?" The king grumbled, lowering his head just slightly so he could mutter the last question against the young nymph's ear. "Crying all day, disobeying my orders, upsetting the other creatures... and now your friend over here kills half my men after I feed him and show him my generosity."
"If we present so much trouble to you, why don't you let us go? I'll take her with me and I promise you won't hear from us ever again."
"You are ungrateful brats." The king continued speaking, completely ignoring Geralt's words. "You think you are special, important, and therefore above it all... but you are not. Your actions have consequences and I am the one who decides what they are... You do not deserve my generosity or my mercy."
Geralt didn't have time to think about the hypocrisy in the monarch's words because before he could process them his eyes watched in horror as he slid the blade of the dagger across his beloved's neck. Blood began to gush violently from the wound, the thick, sticky liquid sliding down the young woman's delicate skin, turning everything red. He screamed her name, his sword slipping from his fingers and crashing to the floor with a muffled sound. He ran towards her, completely forgetting the guards he was fighting moments before. He only cared about her.
Suddenly, he felt as if he was moving in slow motion, as if his feet were twice as heavy and dragging them along the ground was more difficult than usual. Everyone around him seemed to slow down, the men around him, the gentle breeze of the wind... everything but her. He watched her collapse to the ground, blood covering her chest as she struggled to keep breathing. But he couldn't reach her. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms one more time, but it was as if an abyss was keeping them apart. It felt as if fate was mocking him, punishing him for his mistakes by allowing him to be there with her, but not letting him do anything to save her.
He tried to stop the bleeding as he knelt beside her —placing his hands on her neck and feeling the blood gushing from the wound—, but it was too late. She was pale and weak, all the magic in the world could not have saved her at that moment. There were tears in her eyes, in those beautiful green orbs that were fading with each passing second. She was scared, Geralt could see it in her expression. She didn't want to go, but she knew there was nothing else to do now.
"I'm here, I'm here." Geralt whispered in the calmest, most comforting tone he was capable of uttering at that moment. He swallowed his anger and pain, holding back tears so he could give her some peace. He cradled her face in his hands, fingers caressing the skin of her cheeks delicately as if he were afraid of breaking it. "It's going to be okay... you're going to be okay. I will fix this."
She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but instead of sound only blood came out. Geralt caressed her gently, feeling the tears rolling down her cheeks. She clutched her hand around his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. She was begging him to understand her, to read in her eyes her thoughts as he had done so many times in the past. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand her, although in hindsight it should have been obvious to him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, to assure him that none of it was his fault and that no matter what had happened between them, he would own her heart forever.
"I love you. I always will."
Geralt saw the reassurance in her face as the warmth of love enveloped her in her last moments. She gave him the faintest of smiles, an almost invisible sign of the peace his words had brought her. And then her grip on his arm weakened, her hand dropping to the floor as life left her body. Suddenly, that subtle smile, now permanently carved into her expression, was all he had left of her, of her life and the love they shared.
Geralt did not fight when the soldiers dragged him and tied him to a tree to leave him there to die while they escaped, he did not have the strength to do so. He was numb to the world around him, consumed by grief. The sound of the king and his men preparing to leave sounded muffled and distant, as if they were far away from him. And in a way they were, for his mind was not one with his body, but far away. He was focused on the slowly withering body of his beloved, on the fear as she called his name and the terror in her eyes as the edge of the dagger sealed her fate. He could only think of her and all the time they had lost and could never get back, feeling the guilt slowly consuming him as her body transformed into a pile of pink petals.
Geralt admired her face in the dim glow of the candlelight, thinking about how beautiful she looked tangled in the sheets beside him. Her hair spread across the pillow like a halo around her head and her smooth skin was covered with a light layer of sweat that gave her an almost ethereal glow. It felt like an illusion, a trick of his mind. He found it hard to believe he had someone like her lying next to him, looking at him with love in her eyes.
It wasn't just her beauty. No. It was the peace her mere presence awakened in him and the void he felt in his chest when they were apart. It was the way he dreamed of her and her caresses every night he went to bed alone and how his longing disappeared when he felt her warmth against him as their bodies melted into one. It was the way her kisses made him feel like he was home, safe and away from the complications of the world outside the little paradise that was her forest. It was much more than physical attraction, more than the effects of her nymph charm, as he had initially thought. It was love. Pure, honest love, like he had never felt before. He was in love with her, and while he hadn't put it into words yet, he wasn't afraid to admit it.
Her fingers aroused a warm tingle as they caressed his cheek. Geralt leaned into it, closing his eyes for a second to appreciate the magic of the moment. It was amazing how such a subtle act, such a light touch, was able bring out so many emotions in him. It was something only she could do, a clear demonstration of how deep his feelings for her were.
However, when Geralt opened his eyes again, he didn't find the special glow he usually saw in them at intimate moments like this. She was looking straight at him, but it was as if she was looking right through him, as if her mind was lost in her thoughts. Something was bothering her, that much was clear in the green tint of her eyes. Her mouth would open slightly, almost in an imperceptible movement, only to close seconds later, as if there was something she wanted to tell him but couldn't quite bring herself to say. So he decided to ask her about it.
"What's wrong?" Geralt voice was low and raspy with sleep, looking at her with a slight frown in confusion. There was a moment of silence before she answered. Her eyes never left his, but her hand slowly slid from his cheek to rest on his bare chest.
"I'm afraid of losing you." She eventually said, her voice almost a whisper. "You travel across the continent, meet all kinds of people... I'm afraid one day you will get bored of me... find someone better and leave me forever."
Geralt could not believe his ears. It was ridiculous to him that she could have such a fear of abandonment when he felt the way he did. If only she knew how happy being with her made him... If only he could somehow transfer his emotions to her so that she could feel his heart race when they kissed, or experience the peace that filled him inside every night when he lay down next to her... If only she knew, she wouldn't be having those kinds of thoughts. So, he took her hand in his and pressed it against the left side of his chest, right over where his heart was beating with love for her. She needed to know that she was the only one who had a permanent place there. She was the only one he loved and he doubted that would ever change.
"Believe me when I tell you that there is no force on this continent that can keep me away from you." He spoke in a soft voice and watched as her eyes lit up full of illusion. "I love you, forever and always."
He sealed his promise with a kiss, showing her with his lips how serious he was about it. He loved her and there was nothing he wanted to do more than to be with her for the rest of his life, sharing intimate moments like this one and protecting her from any evil that might come her way. He felt complete with her and could not imagine how miserable his life would be without her by his side.
Geralt allowed himself to get lost in the passion of the moment, fingers tracing trails over his beloved's bare skin as he melted into the kiss. It was different this time, more intimate and charged with all the emotions that were left unsaid —it was their special way of communicating, one kiss and they knew what was going through each other's minds. The comforting warmth of love filled his heart, leaving him in a state of total bliss as she whispered sweet nothings against his lips. He was happy in a way he could not remember ever being before, in a way he knew he could only be with her.
But suddenly that comforting warmth that flooded his insides was replaced by a paralyzing cold, an emptiness that pressed against his chest and took his breath away. Geralt could no longer feel his beloved's lips against his. He could no longer smell the flowery scent her soft skin radiated or feel the warmth of her body. He was trapped in a black void, in emptiness itself, all alone. And in the distance he could hear his name being called.
Geralt
Geralt
Geralt
It was a cry for help, the voice of terror of someone who had been confronted with their own mortality. The voice trembled with fear, certain of the fatal fate that awaited them. Geralt could not escape its shrieks, no matter how hard he tried. It was his own personal hell, a void where he was forced to confront his pain, his guilt, and to listen again and again to his beloved's voice filled with terror as she spoke his name for the last time.
Geralt woke up tangled in the sheets, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and breathing fast due to his nightmare. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling as he tried to pull himself together. His beloved's voice was still ringing in his ears, only that with every waking second it became more and more distant until it became an almost unintelligible whisper. Anguish and guilt weighed heavy on his chest, but he was used to that by now. The emptiness inside him had accompanied him every moment of his life since that unfortunate day. He could not escape the pain and regret he felt, it haunted him even when he closed his eyes at night. He could not even enjoy the peaceful ignorance in the mornings, when one's mind is too sleepy to process life's tragedies, because his nightmares would remind him of every painful detail of that day so that he could not rest.
At a time like this, when life had become so overwhelming that he was unable to sleep, he usually reached out to her. With her gentle touch and sweet voice she was always able to calm his tormented self, wash away the anger and frustration and replace it with love and calmness. But now she was gone and he didn't know how to go on. He missed her more than he thought it was possible to miss anyone. He missed the melodious sound of her laughter and the light in her eyes when she was happy. He missed waking up next to her in the mornings, feeling the warmth of her body enveloping him as she whispered good morning to him, her voice hoarse from sleep. He wished he could once again feel the soft caress of her lips on his and hear her say she loved him one more time.
There was nothing Geralt wasn't willing to do to have her back with him, to be able to tell her how much he loved her and how he regretted leaving her. He had been an idiot to have given in to his desires for Yennefer. He should never have gotten involved with her, he should have let her own greed and obsession destroy her that day. He should have saved Jaskier and moved on with his life, after all Yennefer's problems were of no concern to him. But he could not resist his need to intervene, acting like a knight in shining armor instead of what he really was: a witcher. He made an impulsive decision, binding their destinies with magic and unknowingly triggering the death of his beloved. For if only he had been with her, if only he had stayed by her side to protect her as he had promised, he was sure things would be very different. She would still be alive and he would not be so miserable.
But Geralt was determined to make things right. He refused to let her die because of his mistakes. And looking at the cherry blossom tree growing outside his window, he knew the time was getting closer.
"I will fix this." He spoke to the tree, stroking the trunk with his hand as he sucked in a long breath of air. It smelled like her, a sweet scent mixed with the aroma of wood and wet earth. It ached and comforted him in equal amounts. "I will bring you back to me and I will keep my promise to you this time."
Geralt knew she was gone, but her essence was still alive in that tree. Born from the pink petals in which her body had withered when she died, it grew stronger with each day, keeping a fragment of her alive. Of course it was not her, but for now he was happy to make promises to the wind that its branches generated, clinging to the sweet scent of its flowers as the only sign that his words were well received by her. It was all he had, all he had left of her, and for now that was enough. He still wasn't sure how he would fulfill his promises or even where to begin. But he was sure of one thing, and that was that his love for her was stronger than fate itself and there was no force on the continent that could stop him from keeping his promise this time.
The solution to his dilemma presented itself almost by accident. And it came from the place Geralt least expected. He had spent the last few months visiting every library he had access to, reading every book and consulting with every expert he knew in his desperate search to find a way to bring his beloved back to life. But in the end, it was Jaskier who presented him with a solution in the form of a song.
They were traveling on a back road after a successful job. The bard had offered to accompany him under the excuse that he needed new inspirations, but Geralt knew he was doing it because he didn't want to leave him alone. Jaskier knew the pain he felt and being the good friend he was he wanted to accompany him in mourning. Geralt appreciated him even if he didn't have the strength to say it in words. His light-hearted comments and meaningless ramblings were exactly what he needed to distract his tormented mind. Even his spontaneous singing at the worst possible moment cheered him up instead of irritating him as usual. Anything to help him concentrate on something else was welcomed.
They had been walking for hours, hoping to reach the next town before dark and sleep in a comfortable bed in a warm room and not in the middle of the forest again. They were quiet, only the chirping of birds and the sound of leaves crunching under their feet echoed in the air. They had run out of things to talk about an hour ago and Jaskier was starting to get bored. So he did what he always did when he found himself in that situation, sing. Only this time Geralt didn't recognize the verses as one of his own original songs. It was one he had not heard him sing before, so he paid attention.
It told the story of a young man that had managed to win the heart of a forest nymph with his beautiful singing. The connection they shared was so strong that they married shortly after meeting, in the same place where they first saw each other. Happiness and love filled their days for a few long and joyful months. That was until fate, jealous and bitter, stood in the way of their happiness. So, one morning, after being bitten by a snake, the young nymph died. Her beloved fell into a state of despair when he heard the tragic news. Unable to accept that his wife had been taken from his life without warning, he descended into the depths of the underworld to plead for her soul. The song narrated the difficulties of his journey and the perseverance with which he had faced each difficulty until he reached the lord of the underworld himself, to whom he tearfully begged for the return of his wife. The emotion in his words was such that he managed to move Hades, who gave in to his prayers. Although he imposed a condition: that he would not turn around to see his wife's soul following his steps until he left the underworld.
The story did not end well since the young man had been too eager and had turned to see his beloved before she was completely above ground. But Geralt didn't care about that somber detail. His attention was focused on the young man and his journey to the underworld, not only because he felt somehow connected to the emotions of sadness and despair he felt, but also because he was fairly certain he could recreate his heroic efforts.
"Are you crazy?" was Jaskier's reaction to hearing Geralt's idea, his voice raised in a tone of surprise and concern. "Haven't you heard the end of the song? Things go wrong! He doesn't get his wife back!"
“I know, but I don’t care.”
“Geralt, the story it’s just a myth… a tragic love story that one could say is a cautionary tale! You’re not supposed to follow in his footsteps, you’re supposed to learn to live with the grief, process your emotions and eventually move on… Look, I know this is hard for you. I miss her too… What happened to her wasn’t fair, but it wasn't your fault either. Blindly following the words of a myth is not going to change anything.”
“But it’s not a myth, not all of it at least.” Geralt recognized that the love story of the young man and the forest nymph might be an invention, but he knew of the existence of a door to the underworld. It was hidden and required great power and extensive knowledge of magic to be opened, but it was real. And fortunately for him, he knew one of the most powerful and skilled mages on the continent. Though convincing her to help him would not be an easy task given how things had ended between them.
"Why should I help you?" Yennefer said with annoyance in her voice when he showed up unannounced to ask for her help. It was clear that she did not enjoy the witcher's surprise visit and was not shy about showing it. "And more importantly, why are you asking for my help with something like this? I thought you of all people would know how dangerous opening the doors of the underworld is."
"Why do you care?" Geralt answered her with another question. To be honest, he didn't think the difficulties in getting her help would come from a moral issue. Yennefer was not the type of mage who cared too much about such things. "Are you in this or not?"
"That depends... what's in it for me? I hope you know I'm not going to waste my energy in helping you out of the goodness of my heart, not after all the shit you did." Geralt smiled at her remark, surprised that it had taken her so long to once again blurt out her complaints about him saving her life. She was still angry at him for linking their destinies with the wish to the Djinn and at this point he doubted she would ever get over it.
"You get the once in a lifetime chance to traverse the underworld and possibly get knowledge beyond anyone's comprehension." He simply stated.
Yennefer was silent for a moment, watching Geralt intently, violet eyes piercing his yellow orbs. It alerted him to strengthen his mental shield to keep her from entering his thoughts.
"When you live as long as I have, once in a lifetime opportunities start losing power and meaning."
"I'm offering you an opportunity to explore the unexplored and that's your answer? This could have all the answers you've spent years looking for and you're not interested?"
"Oh I'm interested, I just can't understand why Geralt of Rivia, the mighty witcher who prides in his indifference and ability to not intervene, would be interested in opening the gates to the underworld?"
"I have my reasons and they are not of your concern. Are you going to help me or not?"
Yennfer was silent for a moment, considering her options. And then, she smiled at him, and he knew he could count on her help.
Preparing for such an adventure was difficult. It was the first time in his life that Geralt did not know what to expect. He had no idea what he was going to encounter once they crossed the gates to the world of the dead. He didn't know what kind of obstacles he would encounter on the journey or if he would even accomplish his task. But he had to try. Even if it was the last thing he did, he owed it to her.
It was difficult to prepare for the uncertain, so he tried to imagine all possible scenarios and prepare accordingly. He tried to be as meticulous as possible, but he knew it was impossible to stay on top of everything. What he never imagined, however, was that trouble would come from Yennefer's end. He always saw her as such a powerful and determined individual that he did not take into consideration that her energy could wear out and her magic could be consumed. Geralt had no way of really knowing how demanding the spell to open the gates of the underworld would be. He knew it was not something that just anyone could do, but he thought Yennefer could handle it without much trouble. He had never seen magic like hers. And what she lacked in skill, she made up for in stubbornness, so he thought that with her by his side things would not be so difficult.
However, the moment they took a step into the world of the dead, Yennefer fell weakly into the witcher's arms. She muttered something about having spent her energy and how the nature of the place did not allow her to pull herself together. Geralt suggested that she stay outside, after all, this wasn't her fight and she didn't have to risk so much for him. And at that instant, as if the walls were listening to them, the doors closed, leaving only one possible path.
The place was cold and dark, like a cave hidden deep in a mountain. There was not so much as a ray of sunlight, the little light that illuminated their way came from torches distributed along the stone walls. The air was heavy, stale, and it was hard to breathe. It was clear that this was no place for the living, but Geralt continued on his way despite the difficulties. He took Yennefer by the waist, letting her wrap one arm around his shoulders so she could walk, and followed the straight path that the torches seemed to indicate. At the end of the tunnel he came to a large river, and on the shore rested a boat. Inside it stood a hooded figure, long black robes covered its entire body in a way that Geralt could not see its face when it turned to look at them, only a void lost inside the hood.
"He's been waiting for you." The figure spoke, stepping aside so they could board the boat. Geralt hesitated, thinking back to all the catastrophic scenarios he had imagined in preparation for this moment. Surely that had to be a trap, things couldn't be that simple, could they?
"He wants to speak to you, Geralt of Rivia." The figure spoke again as it noticed the hesitation in the witcher's attitude. "He sent me to find you and ensure your safe passage through these waters." He did not trust it, but Yennefer pushed him into the boat with what little strength she had, so he had no other choice.
The dark figure did not utter another word. It went about its task in complete silence, paddling in the waters of oblivion until it brought them close to shore. It did not help them down once they reached their destination, nor did it open its mouth to give them directions. Just pointed a long, skeletal finger toward the horizon and set off the same way it had come.
A dark, dead forest loomed before them. Long, thin tree trunks, nearly leafless branches and shabby bushes decorated the path. Everything seemed to be in shades of black and gray, though that was probably due to the lack of sun. In the distance a structure could be seen, a castle whose colors matched the rest of the landscape. Although the neat and polished appearance of its exterior contrasted with the disheveled and dead environment around it. It was clear that that was where they should go, so Geralt took Yennefer in his arms once more and set off on his way.
There was not much distance separating them from the castle, but the witcher felt as if he had spent an eternity walking. And yet, at the same time, when he reached the large wooden gates, he was amazed to have reached his destination so quickly. His perception of time was totally altered, affected by the atmosphere of the place. Time did not flow there in the same way as it did on the surface. It was as if it was both stopped and accelerated all at once, as if each step took hours and at the same time a couple of seconds. It was more than the absence of sunlight confusing his perception. It was the way things worked in that place, a world separate from the one lying on the surface that he was not supposed to access.
The man who appeared in front of them when the doors opened on their own was imposing, but far less frightening than Geralt expected. It was enough to look into his eyes to know that he was the person in charge of the place. Power shone in his eyes in the same way the witcher had seen it in the kings in the world of the living. And yet, there was something unique about them, something that made it clear that he was no mere mortal. Geralt knew better than to challenge him, though he wasn't sure his emotions would allow him to be cautious if things didn't go as he hoped.
"I've been waiting for you, witcher." the god said in a loud, clear voice. "I'm surprised it took you this long to find me."
Geralt was not pleased to learn that he had been waiting for him. He had imagined it might be a possibility, but he thought the god would use that knowledge to stop him. The fact that he welcomed him without trials or difficulties, sending his people to look for him and opening the doors of his home to him without hesitation, made him suspicious. For all he knew, it could all be a trap.
"Oh don't flatter yourself, witcher! I have far more important things to do than to set you up." The god spoke as if reading his thoughts.
"You knew I was coming?" Geralt managed to say and the god nodded.
"And most importantly, I know why you are here. I knew you were going to find your way here the second she came in."
The mere mention of his beloved in the conversation had Geralt's heart racing, a gesture of both love and anxiety. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him, watching him with furrowed brows as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She knew of his former lover, the forest nymph he had abandoned after their destinies were linked, and he had no doubt that she would understand what was happening in just a second, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to have her back.
"So, I'm assuming you know why I'm here."
"I do, yes. And I will not be opposing to your wishes, Geralt of Rivia. I knew from the first moment that this was not her time and I am willing to give her another chance to live out her destiny without surprise interruptions from magic... However, I do have one condition."
"And you say it was not a trap..."
"It is not! It is just a simple... exchange."
"An exchange of what?"
The god paused, taking his moment to answer.
"Souls are complex things, Geralt. Very powerful, very strong... I can't just let one walk out of here."
"Why not? You have plenty here."
"It's a matter of balance, I don't expect you to understand that. But, if you want your dear nymph back, you'll have to give me a soul in return."
Geralt was silent for a moment, carefully analyzing his situation. After all the work it had taken him to get there, he didn't plan to leave empty-handed. But he also didn't want to condemn an innocent soul who had nothing to do with his mistakes. So he knew exactly what he had to do.
"Fine," the witcher agreed. "Take me then. My soul for hers, it's only fair."
Yennefer tugged on his arm, ready to argue with him —thinking he was acting like an idiot by offering his life as if it was nothing—, but was interrupted before she could open her mouth by the laughter of the god in front of them.
"It's a nice gesture, but your soul isn't nearly powerful enough. It's better than an ordinary human’s soul, I'll give you that, but she's a nymph. Do you have any idea how much energy her soul contains?"
"Then name your price." Geralt said. He wasn't necessarily going to give in to his demands, but he figured it didn't hurt to learn what the god's wishes were.
"To be honest, I don't think you can get a soul of such power... however, you do have access to one that is quite close." Geralt didn't like the suggestive tone in the god's voice. And he liked it even less when his eyes fell on Yennefer as he finished the sentence.
"No!" The witcher declared as he understood the intentions behind those words. He had brought Yennefer with him to help him open the portal and nothing else. He refused to sacrifice one more life. No one else had to suffer because of his stupid decisions.
"She wouldn't suffer." The god spoke after glancing at Geralt's thoughts. "She doesn't even have to be dead, she just has to stay here with me."
"I don’t care. We're not doing this."
"Why don't you let her decide?" The god said, resting his eyes on Yennefer's violet ones. "It is a good deal. You get your lover back and she gets-"
"She gets imprisoned here forever." Geralt interrupted and the god looked at him wearily.
"She gets to be the most powerful madge in history, sitting by my side ruling the underworld... isn't that what you always wanted, Yennefer of Vengerberg, to have power beyond imaginable? What's more powerful than deciding between life and death?"
Geralt snorted at such words, finding the god's tricks very ineffective. But when he looked back at Yennefer, she had a look in her eyes that made him doubt. "You're not seriously considering his proposal, aren't you?" he approached her, speaking in a lower tone of voice so as not to be heard by the god.
"If we leave now then we traveled this far for nothing. Don't you want to get her back?"
"No if it means hurting innocent people. You have nothing to do with this."
"Except I do since the moment you made that srupid wish."
"I didn't save your life then just to leave you here now."
"You're not leaving me, I'm choosing to stay."
"You don't have to do this, Yennefer." Geralt's voice became softer. She seemed quite sure of her decision and he knew it would not be easy to persuade her otherwise, but he had to try. He didn't like the idea of leaving her behind, of sacrificing her in favor of his own happiness.
"Oh, please! I'm not doing this just for you. I usually don't like to waste my time and energy just to end up empty handed. I came here because, as you said, it was an opportunity to find the answers I've been looking for. So why don't you worry about you and let me worry about myself?"
Yennefer rolled her eyes. And while she wasn't lying and really had interests of her own in that place, Geralt really was a big part of the reason she wanted to accept the god's offer. There was something in his eyes, the sparkle of true love, that shone every time he thought of his departed lover. It was something she had never noticed in his eyes when he looked at her. It was clear that what they had was real, it softened her hardened and withering heart, and gave her hope that love was real. Though of course, she would never admit that to Geralt.
The witcher growled under his breath, clenching his jaw. Even though part of him didn't like the idea of leaving Yennefer behind, he couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved to hear those words. If she wanted to stay there for her own selfish reasons, then accepting the god's proposal was much easier on his conscience.
"Are you sure about this?" He asked her once more, giving her one last chance to back out.
Yennefer shrugged. "I lived a long time among the living, had my good share of adventures... maybe it's time to try my luck in the underworld. "
That answer was good enough for Geralt. He accepted the god's proposal, exchanging Yennefer's soul for that of his beloved nymph. She would stay in the underworld with him and in return Geralt would get a second chance with his lover. The god instructed him to return home and assured him that when he arrived, her soul would already be back in her birth tree.
As he made his way back, the thought that the god was tricking him crossed his mind. He realized that he really had nothing to assure him that he would keep his word. For all he knew, this could have been a strange move by the god to get to Yennefer and her powers for some reason he did not know. Perhaps he was being used as a pawn in a larger chess game that he did not know he was part of. Perhaps he had unleashed a terrible evil upon the continent without realizing it.
But then he felt it.
The sweet scent of flowers assaulted his nostrils the moment he set foot in the forest. It was strong, much stronger than it had been in a long time. He noticed then that everything looked greener and more alive, every flower, bush and plant glowing in the warm sunlight in a way that they didn't when he left. Even the birds seemed to sing louder and more cheerfully.
Geralt ran to the cherry blossom tree he had been tending for what had felt like an eternity. His heart was racing with every step he took, not from the physical effort, but from the anticipation. The hope of seeing her again was what had kept him sane since that horrible day he had lost her. All this time he had thought it was impossible, an illusion that only served to keep him on his feet until the pain subsided. But now it was a reality, and he had so many emotions swirling inside him that he didn't know exactly what to feel.
Suddenly, his eyes came upon a figure on the horizon. It was partially blocked by the rays of sunlight that kept him from seeing clearly, so he picked up his pace to get closer. Little by little the figure revealed itself in front of him, until it became clear to him that the one who was walking around the forest, picking flowers and petting the animals, was her.
She looked as beautiful as he remembered her, with her long hair blowing in the wind and a sweet smile on her face. It was as if time had never passed, as if that horrible day and the pain that her death had unleashed had been just a bad dream. It was as if he had never lost her.
Geralt stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell on hers, paralyzed by the emotions coursing through him. All this time he had dreamed of this moment and now that he had her only a few feet away he didn't know how to react. His eyes blurred with tears, but he caught a glimpse of his beloved's figure running to him before he felt the warmth of her body in his arms. He held her tighter than he ever had, pulling her against his chest as a way of both making sure she was real and that she couldn't pull away from him.
"You came for me." She muttered, melting into the embrace. Her memory was somewhat fuzzy, but she remembered clearly the moment when the blade of the dagger had caressed her neck. She remembered how it had felt and the horror in Geralt's eyes as she fell into his arms, taking her last breaths. She remembered his words of comfort and his promise to make things right, as if he actually could. She still didn't understand how she was back there, but she knew it was Geralt she had to thank for her second chance at life. Somehow, he had found a way to bring her back, she was sure of that.
"I'll always come back for you."
The kiss they shared was unlike any other. It was passionate and desperate, yet soft and tender. It was charged with all the emotions that had been left unsaid between them, sadness, regret, longing, but, above all, love. They felt that spark the moment their lips brushed, just like in the old days. Geralt hadn't realized how much he had missed feeling her soft lips on his until that moment. He allowed himself to get lost in the joy he felt, letting the warmth of her body against his slowly remove the traces of sadness and pain that had haunted him all this time.
They remained in each other's arms for a long time, enjoying the moment they had both been longing for so long. It was just him, her and the chirping of birds in the trees. Breathing in the floral scent of her hair, Geralt knew that the gray days were behind him. Gone were the guilt and the pain, the sleepless nights and the cold mornings without his beloved. She was back by his side, just as she always should have been. And he was more than happy for the new beginning he had with her. A new chance to make things right, to honor his word and keep his promise, just as he should have done from the beginning. He was ashamed that he had had to lose her to realize how big his mistake had been, but now that he had her back he wasn't going to let her go. His love had proven to be stronger than everything, even death itself.
#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt x reader#geralt of rivia x fem reader#geralt of rivia angst#the witcher x reader#the witcher#geralt of rivia#the witcher netflix#geralt of rivia x female reader#geralt of rivia fluff
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Hi, I still have so many feelings about this, I will never shut up. I also made a gifset out of it because watching the video wasn't enough, i need to memorize every pixel.
(These gifs are free to download & use, they literally took me 5 minutes, so... cheers~)
"It is your job to f-" still haunts me. Also the way light falls on his face exactly when he fumbles is like him getting exposed. Shining a light on his fakery so the others see through it? And then he retreats back into the shadow trying to hide again, but does so only partially? Amazing.
The quick look up at Fang, he's so adorable🥺 i think for a moment there he actually considers admiting something's wrong but backs out of it and right back into defense. The way he freezes at the end sends shivers down my spine. it's so personal to me, Con, staaahp, fr! Also we get the "unhand me" line, or rather [if you touch me now i will start crying and that's embarrassing so don't touch me] That's how i see it.
Now we get to the good shit. Looking up trying not to cry. Avoiding any and all eye contact. His fckn lips shaking. You can clearly see that he's broken by the fact they've even noticed THIS. That expression is like a defeated "oh fuck me". Him being off focus makes this bit even worse.
Actually I was looking at this bit a lot and it almost seems like he doesn't know what Fang is trying to do at first? Like he was defensive because he didn't realise Fang was going in for a hug? Or maybe it's a reflex for anything coming from behind. He's a fighter, after all.
He looks ahead, approximately where Archie and Jim are standing as if to see their reactions or maybe seek help?! But then you can see the moment he understands - he turns his head back towards Fang and leans into it, with a hint of disbelief on his face.
God, the loose strand of hair adds so much to that delicious skrunklyness he has going on. He's so pretty...
In this gif it's clear he's leaning into Fang a lot, even actively pressing his head against him. He could've easily turned away or pulled away, but didn't. He WANTS to be comforted. He WANTS to be held. The way he scans over Frenchie as if checking what he's about to do, I'm suspecting he like. Put a hand on him somewhere or something of the sort. I am so unwell from this-
For the last time he tries to produce words, but it comes out as more of a moan than anything, so he gives up and bites his lip. (im loosing my sanity, Con, what have you done)
Also Frenchie's pout is my H2O He literally went :c
Izzy looks over to Frenchie again as if to verify he's not there to mock him and when it turns out that no. He actually wants to comfort him. Izzy fully looses it and lets out the most gut wrenching puppy dog skrunkly whimper ever produced by a human man. It must mean so much to him... Those last few micro expressions are killing me. He looks up again as if to say "oh god they mean it. They don't think im stupid for this, they're actually taking me seriously" And he can't believe it, he's so dumbfounded that poor guy.
What if this was his first hug in ages? I wouldn't be surprised...
Im breaking my own heart with this why do i do this-
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Good Omen's problem with having two canons
They're fundamentally different. That's the problem. That's my point.
For quite a while I focused almost exclusively on the new season of Good Omens, but now I am slowly delving into analysis that takes the entire show into account, and I've encountered a little obstacle. Namely, things from S1 can be really tricky to interpret.
Fair warning: this post is going to zig-zag between various points but I want you to trust me and take this scenic route with me. It will take us somewhere eventually, I promise.
The Arrangement
It's one of the core elements in the Good Omens universe and at the same time a perfect example of the issue I want to discuss. So let's have a closer look together.
In the book, the Arrangement is presented to us in two passages:
the first one, where it is first - very briefly - mentioned:
Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be.
and the second one, where it is properly introduced and explained:
The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact, that it didn't really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other's activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary.
(...)
And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It'd get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.
In the show, the Arrangement is presented to us in two original scenes in the cold opening of S1E3:
(I am quoting most relevant dialogues only)
537 AD, Wessex:
C: So we're both working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out?
A: Well, you could put it like that. It is a bit damp.
C: Be easier if we both stayed home. If we just send messages back to our head offices saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it?
A: But that would be lying.
C: Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same. Cancel each other out.
A: But my dear fellow... well, they'd check. Michael's a bit of a stickler. You don't want to get Gabriel upset with you.
C: Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get paperwork they seem happy enough. As long as you're being seen doing something every now and again.
A: No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. We're not having that conversation, not another word!
1601 AD, The Globe Theatre:
A: I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform.
(...)
C: I'm meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle.
A: Doesn't sound like hard work.
C: That's why I thought we should... Well, bit of a waste of effort, both of us going all the way to Scotland.
A: You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer that you are implying.
C: Which is?
A: That just one of us goes to Edingburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting.
C: We've done it before. Dozens of times now. The Arrangement-
A: Don't say that!
C: Our respective offices don't actually care how things get done. They just want to know they can cross it off the list.
S2 doesn't actually reference the Arrangement. But it does reuse the dialogue about free will where the 1020 date is dropped. We will get back to it.
The challenge of adapting Good Omens
Good Omens shares a certain characteristic with all of Terry Pratchett's solo books I've read - it couldn't care less about "showing instead of telling". Which I love, just to be clear. A book is a written medium. It's made with words and one of words' major strengths is that you can use them to just tell things point blanc.
Good Omens does it a lot and it's fantastic.
Look at that second passage from the book I quoted earlier.
From just those few sentences we learn a lot about the relationships between:
Heaven and Hell (opponents and competition)
Aziraphale and Crowley (two individuals in the same position and in direct contact with each other)
Aziraphale/Crowley and Heaven/Hell (field agent and a remote HQ that are not in direct contact)
Aziraphale/Crowley and Earth (two individuals and a space they live in)
Heaven/Hell and Earth (a board where the game is played, only winning or losing matters, what actually happens on a board does not)
It's really an extra condensed worldbuilding gem sprinkled with humor, so it's no surprise it's become one of the most iconic passages from the book.
I mean, just browse through some interviews with David and Michael - especially the ones from 2019 - where they explain what Aziraphale and Crowley are about. You'll be hard-pressed to find any where they don't reference that specific paragraph, consciously or otherwise.
But it's only this neat on the pages of the book, where narration like this takes mere seconds to absorb. It's impossible to convey the same information in a visual medium with anywhere near the same efficiency.
The fact that the majority of Good Omens is like this was, in my opinion, a main challenge the adaptation faced. The book is very narration-heavy. It's full of fun facts about characters, side jokes, hilarious comments, etc. Some of that precious material was salvaged by introducing God as a narrator, but there was only so much of it you could squeeze into a TV show. The rest had to either be fit into dialogues or lost in translation from the written medium to the visual one.
Obviously, in the case of the Arrangement, it was the dialogues.
Book canon and show canon
We all know they're not the same. Neil Gaiman also pointed it out several times. But I think our mistake is that we still tend to think about them as complementary.
Look at the Arrangement again. The show canon seems to merely expand on the book canon. Add extra details and fill in the blanks. The Arrangement works the exact same way, except now we also know more about how it started.
If we compile what we know from the book with what we know from the show, we get a more detailed timeline:
Crowley first proposes the Arrangement in 537 (show).
The Arrangement starts in 1020 (book), ie. Aziraphale finally agrees to it (show - deduction); we don't know for sure if it's a "basic version" (not getting in each other's way), or a "full version" (doing each other's jobs) but we can assume it's the former.
In 1601 "full version" of the Arrangement is in place for some time (they've done it dozens of times) but Aziraphale still objects and needs convincing.
But read that description from a book once more.
Does it really fit into the version of events shown in the TV series?
The Arrangement in the book is something that just happened. A natural, and in a way inevitable result of Aziraphale and Crowley's circumstances. We are never told who came up with it first because it doesn't matter. Because it could have been either of them. Because after five millennia on Earth, they were both ready to do it. They were both of the same mind. For all we know it might have been an unspoken agreement all along!
But for the show, the creators had to come up with a good reason for the Arrangement to be discussed out loud. And what could be a more natural situation for someone to describe and explain an idea than trying to sell that idea to someone else?
For that practical reason - among many others, no doubt - the Arrangement is not only explicitly Crowley's idea, but an idea Aziraphale vehemently rejects at first. He needs to be convinced and even when he finally relents he's never entirely comfortable with it. He keeps objecting and it requires Crowley's constant effort for them to keep cooperating in any way.
The fact that Aziraphale is reluctant gives Crowley a perfect reason to keep convincing him ie. talk about the Arrangement. But the fact that he needs to explain and keep convincing Aziraphale means that Aziraphale is no longer a person who understands the same things and feels the same way.
That is a huge change.
Of course, you may say that what I've written about the Arrangement in the book is just my interpretation. It's true that technically there's nothing there that would contradict the events from the show in any way. The thing is, the events in the show aren't very compatible with the overall characterization of the ineffable duo in the book.
Evolution of Aziraphale and Crowley
You might have read that our leading pair was originally conceived as a single character that Neil and Terry eventually decided to split into two separate individuals.
My reaction when I first learned about it was: "Of course they were! That makes so much sense!" Because honestly, as a person who watched the show first and then read the book, I was surprised at how few differences there were between the two in the original text. If you squint your eyes really tight, you can see how book!Aziraphale and book!Crowley are two versions of the same character. They're far more similar than their show versions.
Most importantly, their attitudes toward Heaven and Hell are pretty much identical. Perfectly mirrored in every regard. What Hell is for Crowley, Heaven is for Aziraphale. What Hell is for Aziraphale, Heaven is for Crowley. In. Every. Possible. Way.
Allow me to present some evidence from the book.
Exhibit #1: the end of the scene where Crowley convinces Aziraphale to interfere with Warlock's upbringing
'You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?' he said slowly.
'Potentially evil. Potentially good too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped,' said Crowley. He shrugged. 'Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that.'
'I suppose it's got to be worth a try,' said the angel.
Crowley nodded encouragingly.
'Agreed?' said the demon, holding out his hand.
The angel shook it, cautiously.
'It'll certainly be more interesting than saints,' he said.
'And it'll be for the child's own good, in the long run,' said Crowley. (...)
When Crowley first points out that good and evil are just names for sides, and then insists it's something they both know, Aziraphale doesn't react in any way. That's because these aren't things that book!Aziraphale disagrees with. He does indeed know it and doesn't deny it.
Also, please note just how cynical the angel is here with his comment that influencing the Antichrist would be a more interesting project than influencing saints!
Both would be rather OOC for show!Aziraphale.
Exhibit #2: the scene just after Warlock Dowling's birthday party, when it becomes evident he is not the Antichrist
'You said it was him!' moaned Aziraphale (...)
'It was him,' said Crowley. (...)
'Then someone else must be interfering.'
'There isn't anyone else! There's just us, right? Good and Evil. One side or the other.'
He thumped the steering wheel.
'You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there,' he said.
'I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to you up there,' said Aziraphale.
'Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy,' said Crowley sourly.
'Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?'
'Sure' said the demon. 'There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-'
'I meant afterwards.'
'Oh.'
Can you imagine this kind of exchange in the TV series? Can you imagine show!Aziraphale being this realistic about Heaven, and show!Crowley so naive about it? There's no way.
Show!Aziraphale genuinely believes that Heaven is good at its core.
Book!Aziraphale knows Heaven isn't any different than Hell and would punish him just as ruthlessly and unfairly as Hell would Crowley.
Show!Crowley understands both Heaven and Hell on a very deep level and is highly aware of their true nature.
Book!Crowley buys a piece of celestial propaganda about ineffable mercy and actually expects Heaven to be forgiving.
Let the magnitude of that difference sink.
Exhibit #3: same scene, a bit further
'So all we've got to do is find it,' said Crowley. 'Go through the hospital records.' The Bentley's engine coughed into life and the car leapt forward, forcing Aziraphale back into the seat.
'And then what?' he said.
'And then we find the child.'
'And then what?' The angel shut his eyes as the car crabbed around the corner.
'Don't know.'
'Good grief.'
'I suppose (...) your people wouldn't consider (...) giving me asylum?'
'I was going to ask you the same thing. (...)'
This is just a cherry on top, really.
Yes, in the book, when things go pear-shaped, both Aziraphale and Crowley consider seeking asylum on the opposite side.
Do you need more proof that book canon and show canon really aren't as compatible as they may seem?
Free will
As promised, let's get back to that dialogue because while it may not be obvious at first glance it really illustrates perfectly the problem arising from balancing between two canons.
Here is the full quote from the book:
Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked.
Crowley had thought about it for some time and, around about 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, OK? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle.
Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have.
Crowley had said, That's lunatic.
No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.
And here, for comparison, is how it was reused in S2E3:
A: There is a stolen body in that barrel! This is wicked!
C: Oh, I'm down with wicked! Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money.
A: That is irrelevant. Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked. She is wicked.
C: Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle.
A: Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. So Elspeth here has all the opportunities because she's so poor.
C: That's lunacy.
A: No, that's ineffable.
I'll be honest with you - I didn't like that scene in the show. It felt jarring and off. Aziraphale was acting like it was his first day on Earth and it was frustrating to watch.
Then, on one of the rewatches, just as I was rolling my eyes at "that's ineffable", a bulb lit in my brain. That line didn't work there because it wasn't created to be there! In the book and in S1 "it's ineffable" was kind of Aziraphale's catchphrase but in S2 it only appears this once. More importantly, in the book and S1, the fact that the angel would say that was all a build-up to the scene when he threw it in Heaven's face at the Tadfield Airbase. Using that word in S2 was like trying to make a running joke that has already reached its destination run again.
And just like that one line the entire dialogue didn't fit because it wasn't meant to be there. It was created for an entirely different context.
What's the difference?
Firstly, book!husbands' conviction was very shallow and it wasn't uncommon for both of them to spout slogans without meaning them. Therefore, book!Aziraphale's words didn't carry that much weight. The very fact that the conversation took place at the same time they formed the Arrangement tells us something about how serious he was. But show!Aziraphale's relationship with his beliefs is different, so when he says things like that it's a much bigger deal.
Secondly, the book explicitly states that Aziraphale and Crowley only developed free will on Earth, due to extended exposure to mankind. The show never really makes a stand on the matter but based on what we've seen so far I think we can safely assume that angels and demons are capable of making their own choices as much as humans do.
In other words, in its original context, the conversation was just Aziraphale talking about a concept he didn't fully grasp, quoting propaganda he didn't fully subscribe to. He was being ignorant and mildly obnoxious in an endearing way.
But using the same dialogue verbatim in the Resurrectionist carried a completely different meaning. Aziraphale who utters it in the show has no reason to be so ignorant about free will. Aziraphale who utters it in the show genuinely tries to defend Heaven. Most importantly, Aziraphale who utters it in the show, doesn't just idly bicker with his friend about general things but is judging an actual human individual that's right in front of them. That, more than anything else, makes it sound heartless and ignorant.
What is the problem with having two canons, exactly?
It's time to wrap things up.
In the opening paragraphs, I've mentioned that I've noticed the issue while interpreting scenes from S1, and yes, that was the case and I do believe that the existence of two canons is especially problematic for S1. That's because pretty much every scene in S1 is potentially like that dialogue about free will in S2, except subtler and harder to spot.
A grand majority of what we see and hear in S1 comes directly from the book. But while words and actions were kept, in some instances things that gave them their original meaning might no longer be valid in the show universe. Sometimes they easily take new meaning, and we don't even notice. But sometimes there's this dissonance that's not as easy to work around.
S1 deviated from the book and created its own canon. But the difference didn't seem to go very deep and it seemed perfectly reasonable to use some trivia from the book to shed some extra light on the content of the show. I used to do it in my head, even though I was aware of the changes that were made.
But S2 expanded the show canon so far beyond what was in the book that I'm really not sure it makes sense to compile them anymore.
There are a lot of things that were only explicitly stated in the book that I keep clinging to. But perhaps it's time to let go...
Thank you for your patience.
I know all of the above isn't exactly a revolutionary discovery, but I needed to get it off my chest before writing anything else.
#good omens#good omens 2#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#good omens the book#differences between book and show#very long post#things I needed to get off my chest
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The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.
[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]
CHP.3
CW: Same as before.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER: PROLOGUE 2
FUN FACT: You were just about to remove your unbelievable amount of jewelry and go to sleep when the dark carriage appeared in the middle of your room.
You didn't notice because you were busy tryna reach for your bangles but then you were suddenly yanked by the hair into the carriage where you quickly lost consciousness from the strong sleeping magic inside. That horse got no chill, wtf..
This is one of those times where you need to channel out your inner Belphegor.
Be loveably infuriatingly bratty and murderous at the same time.
Turns out, you were yanked by the hair and shoved into the carriage by that creepy looking horse because you were "chosen" by the dark mirror to attend their oh-so-prestigious college. (Move out the way Harry Potter, there's a new chosen one in town—)
So you decided to stress these fuckers into bringing you back to where their unhinged horse first took you.
You don't have to be a genius to know that if any of the brothers notice your disappearance, there can either be a war or a bloodbath. It's either one of those things or both of them.
So as you were freed and guided in front of the mirror by the bird-man who you've come to find out was the headmaster of this oh-so-grand college that you've never even heard of.. you side-eye the Mr. Boutta-sell-yo-kidneys guy that tried to take your bangles before you faced the mirror.
'...Hmm? Who's this?' You think, as you look at the person half-hiding behind the mirror.
They seemed to be quite nervous as they gave you a small wave, earning them a smile from you.
The headmaster seemed to be confused about them for a second but quickly remembered something as they called upon that person.
It seems that Yuu, quite a confusing name they've got also desires to be sent back to their home as they said they had responsibilities they must fulfill.
Nice.
Twinning with your problems fr.
It's like you two looked at each other and something just clicked.
Like, Omg we're both kidnapped by a school filled with hot men and forced to be their unpaid therapists, Slay gurly~ 💅🏼 sry it's your inner asmo talking.
You decide to let Yuu be the first to face the mirror so that they'll get home first.
Ah, aren't you so kind and patient?
You don't know anything about that mirror, so it's best that you let someone else have a go first to see if it's safe.
Sorry Yuu, we may have clicked but I don't know if I can trust any of you right now.
It's too risky.
If we ever meet again, I'll treat you to a meal in hell's kitchen as compensation.
Thank Belphie for my trust issues.
...
...Huh.. The place that Yuu belongs to "doesn't exist"?
What a strange response... This damn mirror better not give you the same words lest it wants to be melted out of existence via hellfire.
You can see the dudes behind y'all who turned out to be the housewardens of the dorms of this school start whispering to each other like some nosy aunties on a regular sunday morning.
You gave reassuring pats on Yuu's shoulder after they went back beside you, getting a shaky smile in return.
"I'm sure that it'll be okay.. Their dark carriage took you so it must have the capabilities to take you back, right?" You whispered to Yuu, trying to keep them from panicking as you notice their breaths starting to quicken.
"People in distress are prone to being exploited and manipulated by others. Breathe slowly and calm your mind." You lean closer to their ear, rubbing small circles on their back.
Panicking won't help anyone. You had to learn that from experience. Now you just want to make sure that Yuu doesn't have to.
You may be alright with using this new acquaintance of yours to verify the safety of the mirror, but you won't stand by and watch them expose their vulnerability to a group of people that haven't really made a show of good morals they might possess.
As the headmaster guy started going on a rant about how "tHiS hAvE nEvEr hApPenEd bEfoRe" you keep an eye on the five housewardens dudes, seeing as those guys were eyeing you and Yuu lmao💀 like they were looking at some weird... thing.
Except for the shady mf who's looking straight at you with his weird-ass smile.
Really giving you the impulse to sock him in the face again.
(Oh, and also that tablet that kept taking pictures of you thinking that they were slick when you can hear the click every time a pic was taken.)
The headmaster then guided you to the mirror, mumbling pleas for the reflective object to work properly.
"I... I seem to be unable to reach the place that you call home.."
The mirror spoke, troubled and seemingly confused.
Yuu peeks at your face, before paling and trying to get closer to comfort you the way that you did for them, only to full on try to tackle you when you bring out your staff to try and break the damned thing.
If you can't bring me home then maybe I can take your power and do it myself.
MEANWHILE...
"There are traces of what seems to be teleportation magic as well as a smidgen of sleeping magic mixed in, on center of MC's room."
Solomon stated, glancing at the people sitting around the big oval table inside Diavolo's castle.
If anyone else saw the attendance in this little meeting of theirs, they'd have a heart attack.
I mean, when will you ever see representatives of the celestial realm mingling with those of the devildom, the human world and the grim reaper in such a serious manner?
You'd think there's an intergalactic threat on the loose if you ever see their expressions..
But that's the thing.
You weren't there to see them.
That's the problem.
Someone or something took you away from them.
Those connected to you via pact can still feel your emotions and connections through your pact marks but nothing more.
At this rate, they worry that you're too far to reach because they couldn't get to you through their pacts. Where could you be?
The only reassurance they have that you're fine, is your candle in Thirteen's hands.
The last string of reason they have that is keeping them from drowning in their grief and anger.
The burning flame of your candle gave them comfort and fueled their determination to bring you back into their arms.
Don't worry MC, we'll bring you back.
No matter what it takes.
← Pr. 2 | Chapter List | Pr. 4 →
I'm tryna sketch my MC, but it's taking a long-ass time.
Elae: Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter y'all😊
Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog guys, it really helps me out :3
See y'all next time~
(still tryna figure out tagging)
@leviathans-tail-scales
@f0uerleafedcl0ver
@a-traveling-void-human
@pumafiredraw
@lunasakuravalentine
I tried to tag all of y'all but it won't work for some reason :c
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me levi x reader#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo x reader#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphagor x reader#obey me barbatos x reader#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me mephisto x mc#obey me solomon x reader#obey me thirteen x reader#obey me simeon x reader#twst x obey me#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#crossover#x reader
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The Serpent Files 🐍
chapters: 5/5 rating: M/E wordcount: 13.9k au: human, the magnus archives
summary: Aziraphale works as the head archivist at Eden Institute. Crowley has been supplying them with potentially cursed artifacts over the years -- until he himself gets entangled in a case that turns him from associate to client...
[ art credit and support credit and 1000 hugs to: @chernozemm my beloved ]
start reading:
“Ouroboros. Yes. The introductory statement is meant to be concise, though, akin to a title. You can describe the necklace in detail in your statement, Crowley. Also, I need you to state your name. It occurs to me I don't actually know it. I mean. I'm not saying I want to know your full name, or anything. Just, all these years– erm. You'd have to state it anyway. For formality's sake. We have a system.”
“Sure. So. Name's Crowley.”
“I… know that part. [sighs] Full names, please, throughout.”
“Ah. Anthony J Crowley.”
“I said full names, please. What's the J stand for?”
“Erm. Uh. Just a J, really. Thought it added a certain gravitas, y’know, flair. Je ne sais quoi. Makes people treat you serious, a J like that.”
“Uh. Alright. Well. Anthony J. Crowley, then. I suppose. Seriously? [clears throat] So. Please start from the beginning.”
“Mmmmhhhh wellll. I’ve been coming to Eden for, what, now, six years maybe?”
“I believe so. Yes.”
“Anyway, not like I go here often. We’ve met a handful of times, you and me, maybe nine, ten? I mean, it was ten times. I know. Uh. Not like I counted or anything. Just, coming here, it stays with you a bit, doesn’t it? All that occult shit. Which is why I come here, of course. I’m – what should I call it? A… supplier. Of sorts. I work with – this is confidential, right?”
“Yes. Internal use only. We don’t give out those files. Your words are safe with me. Erm. Us.”
“Good. Right. I work with the Doomsday Group. Can’t really talk about it much, but you’ve heard of them. Shady stuff, crime, theft, trade, religious artifacts, apocalyptic jazz, all that. Supernatural stuff, too, sometimes. Or claimed supernatural. You know I don’t believe in all that. Well. Didn’t. I didn’t believe in it. Now… uh, anyway. Sometimes we get those weird artifacts, right, apparently cursed, so I bring them to you, to, to check, or verify, or call bullshit. Or to lock them away, or whatever you do with them when you buy them off our lot. That’s how we met. Best part of this shit job, really, if I’m being honest. I didn’t ask to be– hm. Wish I could just– ngh. Confidential, right? Wish I could just be done with them. Run off. Can’t, though. But erm. Forget I said that, alright? Please.”
[pause] “You're rambling a bit, de- Crowley. Or should I, should I call you Anthony now?”
“Hell no. I mean – Crowley's fine. You've called me Crowley for years, haven't you? What, now you don't like it?”
“No, no, I do in fact quite – well, for propriety’s sake, the official documentation, I thought – nevermind. So, Crowley, while the background information on your…job is reasonable, might I politely remind you why you’re here? Please talk less about our personal relationship, or at least only insofar as it pertains to the case, and more about what happened to you since… since you put on that necklace.”
“Right. Righty-oh. S’ just, never been in this room before. The tape recorder, all that. I’ve only ever been here as a sort of… co-worker? Nah. You’re not my co-worker, you’re better than that. As a tradesman. So to be here as a client , it feels… surreal.”
“That is understandable. I trust you will muddle through, though.”
“Hey – remember the first thing I said when I came here? Today, I mean.”
[continue reading]
#good omens#ineffable husbands#azcrow#good omens fanfiction#my writing#inefficable#the serpent files
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