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alyss-spazz-penedo · 3 years

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@w1lmutt unedited v!Wind fic part 4 I repeAT ~PART 4~!

(Fair warning yall, be prepared for all the Wind Waker and eventual Phantom Hourglass spoilers from here on in. ...Also I haven’t played either game in a very long time, so uh, the order of events mentioned might be off.)

EDIT: tw for non-descriptive talk of serious wounds and amputation

<<First Next>>

This is a convo I forgot to include at the end of Part 3:

“Sky what the fuck-“

“Fi chose him, there must be a reason-“

“If he has two pieces of the Triforce and that,” a nod at the statue in the corner, “really is Princess Zelda, I don’t think we have a choice here. I think we need to hear him out.”

~o0o~

When they’ve all gathered outside, buoyed up by the magic of the fountain, they find Link kicking his heels on a nearby log. He’s fiddling with one of his freshly-caught fairies, crushing it between hands and hungry tentacles.

“She called you the heroes of the past and future,” Link says. He seems calmer now, the Great Fairy’s magic having taken the edge off his irrational rage. He won’t look at them. “Tell me what she meant. How are you alive? Why are you here?”

They tell him their story, properly this time. Their shared name, the portals, how they suspect their meeting is the doing of the goddesses. The black-blooded monsters. The barest bones of their tale, information offered up in good faith.

Link listens to their whole story. Slots the orb he’d made from the fairy into that time-stopping device of his. Looks at them all like he can’t decide if they’re crazy.

“Are you guys crazy?” He finally asks outright.

“Maybe, yeah, but not about this,” Legend mutters.

Link shoots Legend a funny look for that response, but eventually turns the full weight of his skepticism on Time. He cranes his neck around as he studies the man’s face, going so far as to lift one hand to block out the sight of those scars and facial markings. His mouth twists. Finally, he stabs his sword in the ground, peeling his fingers off it for the first time in the heroes’ presence, and very deliberately picks his way closer to their leader.

His approach reminds Time of a curious bird of prey, wings tucked back, head cocked to one side, mindful of its talons as it steps forward. Dangerous but unthreatening.

“You definitely look like the hero Ganon remembers. But...”

The boy grabs at his hand. Time lets him turn it over, pushing up the sleeve to examine his wrist and forearm, and it’s only when the boy traces a wound lost to time that he realizes what Link is looking for.

“No,” he says, disturbed but unwilling to show it. “There’s no scar there.”

“There should be. He nearly cut the sword from your hand.” Link’s eyes are hazy, lost in recollection he should not have. “Why isn’t there?”

“I…” Time shakes, faintly. He forces himself to stop, to speak. “When I defeated Ganondorf for the first time, there was precious little left of Hyrule to salvage. The Princess sent me back in time, to my childhood, where Hyrule flourished unravaged by Ganon’s hand. I stopped him again there, before he could begin his reign of destruction. The time that I left behind…” He looks down. The top of Link’s head barely reaches his chest. He’s so young, Time thinks regretfully. “I had believed it undone. I never dreamed that it might have continued after I left.”

Link’s hands tighten on his arm. “Your Hyrule was spared the Great Flood? It’s not an ocean?”

“No. Nothing… Nothing like that happened in my time.”

“So that’s why no one ever found you,” Link utters, and his eyes burn with malice and bitter memories. “You really did abandon this kingdom.”

"...Yes. So it would seem.” Time’s words serve to break the boy out of the trance he’d fallen into. Link blinks up at the man’s utterly impassive face, and finally seems to note the unease of the group around him. He backs off.

“I am still very angry at you,” Link informs his predecessor, “but I shouldn’t have attacked you before I heard your side of the story. I apologize.” He bows, very politely.

“...Apology accepted. Now then," Time seizes the boy's wrist in turn. "I believe I've entertained enough questions about something that is, actually, rather unpleasant for me to talk about. Your turn."

He flips Link's hand over. There, on the back of it, two triangles of the goddess mark are gilded in—Courage and Power. Time taps a finger on the latter meaningfully.

"Why do you have this, Link?"

Link frowns down at Time’s hand, looking almost perplexed by the simple grip, before ripping himself away. He rubs at the point of contact like it burns. “Yeah, ok,” he murmurs. “I believe you guys now. It’s just… a long story.”

“Start from the beginning,” Four says, managing to make it sound like an encouragement instead of an order.

So the boy plops himself back on the log, fingers seeking out the hilt of his blade like a child clutching a stuffed toy, and he tells them about the time his sister was mistaken for a pirate captain and kidnapped by a giant bird.

It’s a fantastical tale. The assorted heroes accept it with the easy aplomb of people who have heard and lived stranger (though Warriors goes the extra step of occasionally nodding along like the boy’s haphazard descriptions make sense to him). It’s obvious that he’s glossing over some parts where his animated storytelling stutters, but it’s only when he speaks of returning to the Forsaken Fortress with Master Sword in hand that Link grows somber.

“The Helmaroc King was probably the strongest creature that Ganondorf took control of,” Link tells them, fingers playing over the mask he’d set in his lap. “He had stronger monsters, yeah, but he made those. Kangarocs already existed on the seas before he woke up and ensorcelled their leader. So the Helmaroc King… it’s… proud, I guess you could say. And sure, it was mad at me for stabbing it in the head and taking its mask as a spoils of battle, but it was even madder at Ganondorf for treating it like a servant for so long. I hadn’t known it was possible for something to get that angry before I put the mask on.”

Link shakes his head, rueful and amused at his past self’s naivety.

“It wasn’t enough to hurt Ganondorf, of course, not with the Master Sword still asleep. I don’t really remember it, but apparently Tetra and my Rito friends came to the rescue before Valoo—ah, he’s a giant dragon spirit deity—set the whole place alight. They tell me I had to be dragged away kicking and screaming bloody murder, though, and Tetra chewed me out about it after.” He shrugs, like this was all no big deal. “I figured out how to control the mask better later on.”

“But anyways, because of all that, Tetra was revealed as Princess Zelda, and she had to go into hiding while I woke up the Master Sword. By the time I’d done that and collected all the scattered pieces of the Triforce of Courage, Ganondorf had found her. He kept her asleep in the ruins of Hyrule, which was sealed in this giant bubble under the sea. We fought down there. The mask,” he taps the item in question thoughtfully, “probably saved my life then, honestly. But Tetra finally woke up halfway through our battle, and together we managed to beat him.”

Link shakes the memories away, and props the Helmaroc Mask back on his forehead. His next words are a careful monotone. “I stabbed him in the head with the Sword. We could see the sealing take hold; he started turning to stone, inch by inch. But… when it reached his hand, the Triforce of Power started glowing, and the stone started receding. It made him too strong; the seal just… wouldn't take.”

“So I picked up one of his swords and lopped his hand off.”

“I know,” he agrees to the looks on their faces, neutral mask shattering into a disgusted grimace. He shudders. “It was gross. But I was wearing the Helmaroc Mask at the time, and that makes stuff like that… easier, I guess.”

A few of their number, Time most notably, nod like that makes any sense. The rest collectively look at them askance.

Link shrugs them all off. “It doesn’t really matter; it worked in the end. We won, Ganondorf turned to stone, and the King... he took the Wind Waker back and had us return to the ocean above. He said the future was ours now, and we should live free from the sins of the past. We promised him we’d find a new land and rebuild a new Hyrule in memory of the old, and he looked happy, but...”

“He said he would be right behind us.” Link shakes his head. “He- I- I don’t know the song he conducted; it’s not one I ever learned on my journey. The sky... opened up, I guess. Like the Great Flood all over again, except this time it washed away what little the first one left behind. For a while, we were afraid we would drown in it. There was nothing left when the King-” He cuts himself off. Fingers his blade. Huffs.

“And that,” he pronounces, “is the final tale of the Hyrule of old.”

#Vinked Universe #finally got to the part that sparked this whole mess in the first place #split it bc it got too long. y'know. as you do #fanfic #my writing #if that link ever stops working fyi #it's the Song of Storms #you can pry Time being a self-blaming martyr with the weight of the world on his shoulders FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS #v!Wind rn simply doesn’t register that he's twisting the knife

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surrepo-iuvenisdomina · 2 years

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Mistress Kaya.

GENERAL INFORMATION.

NAME. Kaya

NICKNAMES. blondie, Ka-chan, Yaya, M.K.

DATE OF BIRTH. august 24th, 1505

AGE. 19 years old (post ts)

RACE. human

GENDER. female, she/her

SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.

PLACE OF BIRTH. Syrup Village, Gecko Islands, East Blue

HOMETOWN AND CURRENT RESIDENCE. Syrup Village, Gecko Islands, East Blue, variant

OCCUPATION. medicine student

AFFILIATIONS. Syrup VIllage/Gecko Islands, Straw Hat Pirates

APPEARANCE.

FACECLAIM(S). herself and doh soojung from lady and the butler

HEIGHT. 5'6’’ / 1.67 mts

WEIGHT. 141 lbs / 64 kgs

HAIR. pale blonde (#E0E0B6); loose for the most part, shoulder length; straight and thin, soft to the touch

EYES. dark brown (#473A33); wide open, expressive, and compassionate. While reading and studying, she uses a pair of round glasses

SKIN. delicate and pale (#F0E7DF); easy to bruise. Despite the lack in color, Kaya makes sure to get a fair amount of sunlight during the day

BODY TYPE. hourglass, not as pronounced but still defined

POSTURE. elegant and ladylike, with her shoulders back and down; a straight stand-up and her eyes rarely seeing the floor. she doesn’t usually slouches, but won’t hesitate to relax when in the presence of people close to her.

STYLE. simple, feminine; though she has begun to expand her wardrobe

SCARS. only in the palm of her hands, which are hard to find unless paying very close attention

TATTOOS/PIERCINGS. none.

HEALTH.

BLOOD TYPE. F

PHYSICAL CONDITION. not the best, below average

ALLERGIES. none

SLEEPING HABITS. semi-organized schedule, sleeps maximum 6 hours

EATING HABITS. slightly selective over what she eats, but has overall a good appetite

ADDICTIONS. none

ALCOHOL USE. extremely low; low tolerance

DRUG USE. none

INTERESTS.

GOAL(S). become a doctor and heal Usopp’s wounds

HOBBIES. reading, gardening, walks on the beach, fishing, sailing

LIKES. cats, honesty, warm weather, peace, children, helping others, cherries, sunlight, ballet, seafood

DISLIKES. ungratefulness, betrayal, violence, nicknames, socks, loud noises

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS. hardworking, responsible, kind, caring, strong-willed, clean, organized

NEGATIVE TRAITS. prideful, bad liar, perfectionist, harsh

ZODIAC SIGN. virgo

PERSONALITY TYPE. isfj “the defender”

ALIGNMENT. lawful good

TEMPERAMENT. phlegmatic

FEARS/PHOBIAS. insects, losing the people she loves, isolation, loneliness, ATELOPHOBIA, ATHAZAGORAPHOBIA

ASSOCIATIONS.

BEVERAGES. hot tea, fresh water

FOOD. soups

SONG. ONE DAY IN AUGUST BY MARC TEICHERT

QUOTE. ❝To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.❞ ——Ralph Waldo Emerson

SCENT. cleanliness, flowers

PLANT. stephanotis, heathers, gladiolus

ANIMAL. deer

COLOR. yellows

METAL. gold

GEMSTONE. peridot

ABILITIES.

usage of morse code.

medical studies.

dancing/music.

fishing.

sign language.

BIOGRAPHY.

- rough draft -

Born august 24th, 1505, only daughter to Kazuo and Naomi on Syrup Village after many attempts at having children

Shortly after being born, betrothed to who would come to be known as Masked Deuce, though this fact was never disclosed to her per request of her late father

age 6: starts being homeschooled by multiple tutors and Merry arrives to the manor

age 8: starts being left at the care of a guardian and the staff of the manor, as her parents had taken a break from their business when kaya was born

age 9: starts learning how to play the piano, fishing and gardening

age 12: Kaya’s parents commission the Going Merry (designed by Merry himself) as a gift for her 12th birthday; the christening ceremony doesn’t go as expected, but the caravel is still used for leisure

age 14: Black Cat Kuro, alias Klahadore, arrives to the front door, on the verge of death and is saved by Kazuo. After months of gaining the family’s trust, is named Butler of the manor.

age 15: Kazuo gifts Kaya a couple of peridot jewelry sets (earrings, necklace and ring) for her 15th birthday - example 1 / example 2

age 16: Kaya’s parents fall ill to a mysterious disease after a rather long business trip, and subsequently pass away (more to be explained later), leaving her orphaned and inheriting their wealth.

striken with grief, and unknowingly being food poisoned, stays bedridden for a year, and in between, meets Usopp, who decides to cheer up her spirits

age 17, the truth about Klahadore comes to light, and the village is saved by Usopp and the straw hat pirates from the attack of other pirate crew. as thank you, she gifts them the Going Merry and Usopp decides to leave as well.

Her studies on medicine begin, and shortly after, she becomes an apprentice to a local doctor on the Gecko Islands

age 19: current.

#pinned post.#ooc.#queue.

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phantom-of-nrc · 3 years

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Hello, I would like a Twst matchup (I am open to both student and/or staff) please. I’ll go by as 🌺 and my pronouns are she/them. Also I would like to remain anonymous.

I am an INFJ, Gryffindor with the DND moral alignment of True Neutral. My chinese zodiac is the Snake while my astrological zodiac is Gemini. My favourite colours are subdued pastels and neutral tones. My love language is quality time.

Appearance wise, I am 5'4 light-skinned filipino with a softened hourglass figure. I have a button nose and soft brown almond-shaped eyes. I have straight black hair that goes half-way down my back, but usually is tied up in a messy bun. I wear thin gold framed glasses. I tend to wear lose sweaters, black leggings and runners. Outfit wise, I go for the cozy academic look.

Personality wise, I am pretty reserved with strangers but with people who I am close to (which is pretty hard since I am quite closed off), I am more outgoing. I am quite witty with my responses and playfully tease those who I really trust. Even then, I am overall softer and gentler in mannerisms. Due to closed off nature I tend to listen more in a conversation, but I sometimes am quite chatty. Funnily enough, I have been described as ‘baby’ and 'grandma’ at the same time. At times I can be child-like because of how easily excited and happy I can get over the little things, but at the same time quite old because of the advice I give. I am quite tactile with people who I am close to. I am described as being super imaginative and creative. I am known to be very honest and willing to communicate with others. I also live by the saying “do no harm but take no shit”. I have also been known for grey morals because how I don’t judge or assume things about others. My energy level from day to day can switch from super productive to lethargic.

By nature, I am quite calculating and observant of people and my surroundings. I have a knack for reading people and acting accordingly. Sometimes I become manipulative if I am genuinely mad, which is rare. People usually approach me for advice, comfort or just as someone to talk to. Also, I have been known to be quite philosophical and super chaotic. On the other hand, I can easily get anxious, and become skittish as a result. Quite surprisingly I have a quite a realistic and borderline pessimistic world view. To note, I do struggle with my mental health because of my past, and as a result I deal with moderate depression and have scars.

My hobbies usually consist of reading, writing, sleeping, playing videogames (either story-based or strategy-based games) or just trying out new recipes. When its winter I love to go skating. Overall, I tend to want to learn about things in general, so I also tend to watch art vlogs or educational videos (Science-centric). Currently I am working on learning German in my free time. When I am alone, I tend to sing to myself. (my voice is suited for lullabies and soft jazz) (funfact: people have been trying to get me to join choir because of my voice)

I like softer things such as pastels, flowers, and nature. But I always have a love for the macabre. In the future, I am looking to invest in getting a large dog as a companion/emotional support animal. Currently I am working towards learning Environmental Studies. My favourite drink is Bubble Tea.

Thank you in advance !

ℌ𝔬𝔴 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔢?

🗝 Is this an unlikely result? Who knows? The Snake zodiac and INFJ MBTI combination, you’re the woman that Dire Crowley needs. While you may have days where you tend to be lethargic, the productivity that comes to you on the other days is something that our ever-so gracious and hard-working headmaster needs. Of course he pays no mind to the days where you tend to be lethargic, the two of you could have some fun while the poor Ramshackle residents would have to deal with overblots—

🗝 With your relationship, I do believe that it would be a slow burn, but once the two of you have finally gotten together, expect to be one of the quirkiest couples in NRC. Dire Crowley is someone who tends to be excited over certain things like vacations and events that would polish his and his school’s reputation. With you who’s also someone who’s easily excited, the two of you are basically the sunshine couple of NRC. How unusual considering Dire Crowley’s dark style, right? But alas, love works in mysterious ways, and not even Dire Crowley is immune to the spell that you have put him under.

🗝 In all honesty, I kind of see you and Dire Crowley as the couple who runs the campus together. He does need some help, after all. The fact that you’re observant and calculating is also a benefit if you don’t mind with helping Dire Crowley run the campus. If Dire Crowley ever dumps his work on you, do tell me and I’ll bonk him for you! Don’t worry though. There’s always Yuu and Grim for him to dump some duties to💖

🗝 Please tease him, his reactions would certainly be adorable! He’d be very flustered whenever you tease him, the students are basically standing there, watching like children having to watch their parents share a lovey-dovey moment. It’s inevitable for one of the students to say “Get a room.”

🗝 I envy this man’s ego confidence. Are you feeling anxious? Nervous? Don’t worry, your beloved Dire Crowley is here to save the day and give words of encouragement as the gracious lover he is! Isn’t he just the ideal boyfriend?

🗝 One word: Simp. He’s a simp for you. He’s simps for your voice, he might’ve cried over how peaceful you looked while you’re asleep, he cries while he simps for you.

🗝 Do you have any ideas on events that you’d like to take place in NRC? Just ideas in general? If you do, don’t hesitate sharing them with him! Oh? Are you writing? Curiosity comes and hits Dire Crowley! Would you like to come and spend some quality time with him? Would you like to go to a vacation with him?? Every experience is twice as fun with you!

🗝 On the other hand, he treasures you dearly. Learning of your depression and scars, he’s going to make sure to find ways to help you, to bring a smile to your face and chase the memories of your past away with a relationship full of fluff and years of enjoyable NRC.

🗝 Even if Dire Crowley wears dark colors and you like pastels, it doesn’t get in the way of your relationship. In fact, it makes the two of you an even cuter couple!

𝔐𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤:

Dire Crowley is a man who may have a knack for travelling. Currently, he was taking a vacation from handling his school as its headmaster.

Ice skating has always been something that the headmaster was curious to try. Considering that he, being the gracious headmaster he is, has been busy with his prestigious school. With the chance provided for him by the vacation, he could finally try ice skating.

If only he wasn’t too excited to skate for the first time.

As soon as he attempted to glide across the icy rink, the oh-so graceful headmaster body flopped. It seems like this was the last thing that you have expected. Hastily trying to stop yourself from tripping over the headmaster’s body flopped body, gravity seemed to be feeling a little mischievous as you stumbled and landed on the headmaster.

It seems that Dire Crowley’s eagerness to try ice skating have led to the discovery of a new chapter of your lives.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland matchups #twisted wonderland matchup #matchup #matchups #twisted moon

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

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Female!Chromeskull x Male!Reader- Reborn

My first try at writing Female!Chromeskull (Jessica Cromeans). This one is for the males, because they also deserve a piece of Chromeskull. ENJOY!~

It all started with you searching for a job, been almost broke, and having to evict the apartment made you feel like walking on thin ice; that's when one of your old friends from high-school, Spann heard of your quest and said she might find you something. You knew she worked for a very high and important business organization.

She had called you to tell you that there is one more assistant job and they're looking to hire someone. Looks like the organization was getting so big and important, Spann, being the primary secretary, couldn't handle everything just by herself and the boss decided that one more person could help things get more smoothly.

Spann told you a little about the CEO and you were surprised that it was a woman. Now, you weren't a sexist, but being to work under a female made you a little anxious, mostly because you couldn't talk to a woman, not even if your life was on the line.

The interview went pretty good and looks like they hired you mostly because you could speak ASL fluently and your boss was mute. Your boss was pretty, no, scratch that, she was gorgeous; tall, hourglass figure, long tresses of platinum blonde hair pulled into an impeccable pony-tail, dollface like make-up, black clothes. She was the epitome of a femme fatale and you were surprised you managed to answer all her questions without making yourself a fool.

Before you could get up she stopped you, raising her hand, the manicured red nail-polish on display.

'That won't do.' she signed, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" you asked in a quite nervous voice, afraid you screwed up with something.

'Your clothes.' she signed, gesturing to your attire.

Looking down, you had to agree on a little with her. You were wearing a simple white shirt with faded jeans and black converse; not exactly that professional, but you didn't have the money to buy Versace and Calvin Klein. You looked down in shame, feeling like you were so out of place, then you heard her walk towards you, looking you she flashed you an apologetic smile.

'Don't worry, sweetie. You're new here, but there's always room for improvement.' she signed, motioning to you to follow her and you did, after all, she was your boss now, or so you hoped.

That day she took you out for shopping, buying you new clothes, even going with you to hairstyles to do something about your unkempt hair. You looked yourself into the mirror, seeing a whole new person and you wondered if it was really you. Your hair was all freshly cut, the upper part swiped back, then you looked lower; black button-up shirt, black slacks, and black oxford shoes.

'See...a little magic.' she signed, flashing you her pearly white teeth.

After working under her for almost two years, you started to learn much more about Jessica Cromeans and that her business wasn't exactly that orthodox like, but you learned to accept everything that included a very fat paid job that most would kill for.

With these two years came the taboo feeling and you cursed yourself every time you thought about your boss in the most inappropriate ways possible.

'She is married for Christ's sake! Get your mind out of that, [Name]!' you scolded yourself mentally, as you typed on the laptop, working at your desk for the murderous organization along with Spann.

'She would never look at you that way. You're way out of her league.' you told yourself with a sigh.

Yes, you were falling for your boss, so imagine the shock you felt when she was almost killed and destroyed. Staying close to the operating room, pacing back and forth, with Preston and Spann sitting on the chairs, waiting for their boss to wake up.

"Can you stop that, kid?" Preston grumbled, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

You sighed, leaning on the wall and looking at your Rolex, counting down the minutes that passed.

When Jessica woke up and you heard she was alive and alright, you were over the moon, but you knew she would never be the same, ever. She became more distant and much more abrasive, but you couldn't blame her. You would be so too if someone disfigured your face.

You were glad that she was back and continued her murderous tendencies, but another incident happened that made her almost have a break-down.

Her husband found out about everything and you didn't know if you were relieved or sad that he shot himself in the interrogation room of the FBI.

Jessica stayed inside her home for at last a week and she called you to bring her some supplies; after all, you were her assistant, so a job was to be done. Seeing her modern luxurious mansion made you feel small and insignificant, but you continued, entering the house and calling for her; no response. You sighed, hoping, at last, to receive a message on the work phone, but nothing.

You groaned in annoyance and walked up the main staircase to her bedroom, maybe she was asleep. Opening the huge double doors you saw her at the mirror vanity, looking into her reflection, a lipstick in her hand that she clenched so tightly it broke.

"Ummm...boss? I brought the food and the supplies." you said, catching her attention.

Looking now better at her face, you agreed that she was destroyed; the once impeccable face, now a mass of scarred skin, her functional brown eye looking at you wide open.

'Leave it on the front table and get out.' she signed, looking away from you.

Your lips pulled into a thin line and you could bear to see her likes this; she used to be a very confident woman, marching with superiority whenever she went, so seeing her so vulnerable, broke your heart.

"Look, Miss. You have to get out at some point." you said, putting the bag on a table close and took a step towards her. Big mistake.

In an instant, she was in front of you with a glare directed to your face, teeth pulled into a snarl.

'I said to get out.' she signed into your face.

"Look. It's not that bad." you started, but were met with a slap across your face.

'Not bad? I'm a monster! I'm ugly! I'm disgusting!' she signed with ferocity.

You were done taking her bullshit and caught her wrists in a tight grip, your eyes piercing into her brown one, wide-open that you had the guts to stand your ground; the submissive soft-spoken [Name].

"Stop all this goddamn signing!" you snarled, your eyes looking from her eye to her lips, scarred, but still so kissable, so tempting. Before you knew it your lips crashed into hers, a kiss so needy and full of attention, all towards her.

If Jessica could speak she would probably squeal and scream, not expecting to be kissed, not with that face and by all means, by you. The nerdy [Name] that in all these years she turned into a handsome and suave man; you really evolved into a man since you started working for her. You gulped back and gasped, blush on your face.

"Look, Jessica. I'm not gonna tell you this a hundred times, but you're still beautiful. You still have the charisma, your intelligence, strong and by all that happened I still find myself longing for you." you declared, making the blonde woman that was your boss almost tear up.

You knew you probably screwed up, so you were ready to leave until she pushed you back into a kiss, much more feverish than the one before, her hands running up and down your torso. The surprise that you felt was quickly overtaken, your arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer against your body.

The next hour was a blur of clothes flying everywhere, lots of biting and kissing, hands running over each other's body; it was pure bliss, like a dream that finally comes true, especially when you pushed into her, her mouth pulled into a silent gasp.

"Oh, Jessica..." you groaned, grinding your hips into hers. It was heaven inside her; so wet and tight.

Sadly, all the pent-up libido in you came to a final and you felt your length twitching, ready to pull out of her, only for her legs to tighten around your waist, trapping you in.

"N-No...I-I'm not wearing a condom....I...Y-You're not on the pill." you gasped, looking down at her.

'I don't care. Cum inside me...Fuck me.' she signed quickly, making you throw your head back and fill her up, her hands pulling your head on her chest, her fingernails scratching your scalp, making you groan, trying to catch your breath.

That's pretty much how you became Mr. Cromeans and she was more than delighted you were so understanding of everything, and I mean everything.

You opened the silver suitcase, pulling out the chrome skull mask, your fingertips brushing over the cold metal, then you felt arms wrapping around your waist, the skull ring on the ring finger, and the red stiletto nails giving you all the guess for who it was.

Jessica was nuzzling on your broad back, taking in your scent and masculine cologne she had bought for you.

Your smile turned into a deadly smirk as you looked back at the skull mask, the twin knives resting into the suitcase.

Oh yes....Things are just going to be dandy.

#Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull #chromeskull x reader #Jesse Cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader #slasher x reader #genderbend

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border-spam · 4 years

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Leech Lord AU - Char Breakdown

Seifa A’rosk / Seifa Ur-Machina / Saint of the God King’s Mechanica

Bless u @nikyri-art and @lazulizard for the art! List of character traits and world-building facets for this character within my story. The Leech Lord Au is the one all other twins content I’ve written is set in.

Troy’s is HERE Tyreen’s is HERE

Note, ye asked and ye received. Literally my first OC ever, no clue what I’m doing, constructive feedback is 100% welcome.

Physical Details:

Right handed.

Very short, 4′11″, and rarely seen out of heeled boots.

5 years older than the twins, in her mid twenties when she came across the scabby looking rat who introduced herself as Tyreen.

Long auburn hair she usually wears in waves.

Right side shave, warm blue eyes, septum/eyebrow/labret facial piercings

Average bodyweight, hourglass shape.

Saint sigil tattoo between her shoulderblades.

Couple of small scars across torso, stab wound near navel, nicks across left ribs.

Visible facial scar is paper thin and streaks across her right brow into her hairline. Tells everyone this was from a knife fight, but was actually from an echodevice she was trying to scavenge components from blowing in her face a decade ago. Figures she might as well try and get some intimidation points out of it.

Relaxed punk aesthetic she carries into her engineering uniform.

Usually covered in homemade jewelry.

Backstory:

Sei is a migrant junker/mechanic, and has been running a solo career as one since her late teens.

She has no memory of family, and doesn't care in the slightest. Figures she was probably sold into child labor before she was old enough to remember who they were. Loses no sleep over this and rarely gives it any thought.

Grew up traveling with her "Boss" (head of the scavenging ring who managed herself and the other skinny little kids she was raised with) between different rim planets including Pandora, scrapping and repairing tech while scavenging the thousands of ship husks dumped during the corporate wars.

Spent her formative years constantly surrounded by other children and teens who helped each other get each other through what should have been a relatively lonely existence, and developed a close family bond with many.

Retained contact with a lot of them in adulthood. They operate a network of mechanics and engineers across the system, a few of which come to work within the COV Mechanica when they realise she can offer safety.

Spent her childhood and teens learning the art of the deal from her boss, accompanying him on trade runs, market dealings, debt collections, anything and everything he figured would help her in the long term. Learned everything she could while accompanying him as a kid, like a filthy little sponge in too-big overalls and a runny nose.

Engineering and mech skills have been honed from years of pulling apart and crawling into junked ships, repairing and reselling on components for profit.

At 19, she had saved enough to purchase a shitty little rehashed transport ship from her Boss, and set out to start her own trade. They've kept in touch and are on friendly grounds. Still calls him Boss. Never actually learned his name, it didn’t matter.

Seifa spends years migrating between outer planets, building a reputation with her bartering and trade skills. Playing idiot traders like instruments, flirting her way into high profit deals, and starting bar fights. She doesn’t take part in them mind you, she’s a lady. She just starts them.

It’s an easy way to get a group of “eager investors” to weed out the lesser competition, and leave you able to playfully manipulate yourself into the good graces of someone who’s too horny and pumped up on the hormonal rush of the fight to realise that they are the mark.

Moves to the next planet once she's outstayed her welcome, but always makes more friends than enemies.

At 25, finds a terrified and not remotely intimidating girl in a Pandoran junkyard, who pulls a gun on her. Tyreen tries to mug her with a shitty SMG that's clearly out of ammo, has a jammed trigger, and gets laughed at in response. Gets called a weird, stupid kid. Gets interrogated about how she is too old to be on Pandora and still alive if this is how clueless she is, so what’s going on?

Ty breaks down into tears and begs to please, please get her some medicine. Her "Brother is so sick” and he's “all she has now”, and they've “no money, no supplies. It wasn’t meant to go like this, it shouldn’t have gone like this but they didn’t know what it would be like.." and in a rare moment of empathy likely routed in years of being around kids this stupid, and clueless, and dumb ... Seifa helps.

Traits: ✓ Positive x Negative:

✓ Confident, both in her appearance and knowledge.

Sei is a jack of all trades, master of none. Her range of knowledge is broad and useful, and her confidence stems both from her well maintained physical appearance, and general competency in most situations where she needs to be.

✓ Socially skilled, fast learner, adaptable.

She’s been learning on her feet as long as she can remember, and is highly socially skilled, though a lot of her “nice” interactions can be a veneer. She holds people at arms length without them realising she’s not being as open and friendly as she appears.

✓ Self sufficient, reliable, trustworthy.

An adult lifetime of needing to rely solely on herself has left her highly sufficient, and very dependable. Seifa is the kind of person you call when you need something done, and don’t need to ask questions about how she gets you your results. You’ll get what you need.. just don’t hassle her about how she achieved it. You’ll be told to piss off, very clearly.

✓ Excellent negotiator, skilled in controlling conversations and manipulating others from years of trading for a living.

Seifa has been learning how to argue, shift conversations towards her own goals, and turn competitors on each other since she was barely able to carry a wrench. She’s an excellent dealer, and can drop into one of her many characters instantly when they’d help shift a contract towards her gain. Floozy giggling newcomer? Got it. Clueless naive big spender? No problem. Trade baroness about to crush your knuckles? Game on.

It’s something the twin strays she rescues are very interested in learning from her.

✓ Naturally friendly, and deeply caring for those she bonds with.

Sei is generally easy to get on with, between her decent set of social skills and ability to quickly read people, she comes across as quite friendly and overall pleasant to most people. She’s very slow to become genuine around others or show her caring side, an understandable side effect of the kind of life she’s lived, but her close friends are very close, and see her as one for life.

✓ Lawful Neutral.

Morals are decent ( for a Pandoran) , and is always willing to help someone if it's not too much hassle or won’t put her out. Like the majority of people living on this rock however, she won’t put strangers before her own safety or wellbeing.

x Very vain.

Sei will sacrifice functionality for style in the Mechanicum without a second thought, and will become frustrated and snappy if unhappy with her appearance and forced into social situations. She’s had a lifetime of curating her looks and using them as a tool, and hates being seen “out of character”.

x Self focused.

She won’t risk harm physically or to her reputation for someone she has no stake in. Fact of life on Pandora is that people who do that don't tend to live very long, and she’s highly aware of that. Close friends and children are about it when it comes to who she’d take a risk for, and bandits slaughtering each other or ransacking towns is unlikely to be something she’d be very phased by. It’s not that she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t allow herself to.

x Irritable, easily brought to frustration or insulted. Holds grudges badly.

Seifa manages her collected and cool outer demeanor by pushing it over her emotional state. It’s a defense mechanism she’s learned from a lifetime of being in situations where emotion = weakness. Her high personal opinion of herself and pride in her skill means she takes to being insulted very easily. A subordinate who doesn’t show her respect won’t stay in her department long, and an equal who treats her like an underling? She will Never. Let. It. Go.

x Snappy and unpleasant when stressed or overworked, unable to handle emotion based arguments.

Seifa’s response to stress or frustration is to become overwhelmingly in control of the situation, and fiercely logical. Her social niceness evaporates and she defaults to the simple level of “Get this shit done NOW, and don’t question me” when it comes to dolling out required tasks. This is a bad thing to couple with arrogance. She is also completely incapable of arguing with someone who uses emotion instead of logic as their drive, and so while she is able to communicate with Troy very well even in heated times as they both default to logic, arguments between herself and Tyreen can become vicious, as neither is capable of expressing themselves in the other’s language when frustrated.

x Loyalty to close friends can overpower her better judgement in situations.

She’s completely aware of the hypocrisy of this weakness considering the front she likes to portray, being cold and unaffected by problems, but has never been able to stop herself from making this same mistake. Over and over.

x Noticeably arrogant, no respect for the chain of command.

Relying on her gut for survival through her life left her with an inflated sense of worth for her own opinion, and she finds it very hard to really convince herself that others may be the better option, or have more value than her own. This means she can also easily forget her place if she thinks a superior is in the wrong. Has earned her a stab to the abdomen and a broken wrist in the past. Both healed, both scarred. Her arrogance towards the twins, being that they are younger and far less experienced than her in general life, has caused multiple confrontation. She know’s it’s a problem, and she’s trying to get better. She really is.

Likes:

Money.

Personal freedoms.

Self reliance.

Feeling admired and appreciated.

Close companionships with friends who see her as an equal.

Her advice being heeded.

Growing plants.

Tinkering with smalltime tech and gadgets.

The safety of the COV meaning she can finally settle in one place.

Respect.

Being wanted, physically and emotionally.

Tenderness.

Gaming, watching movies, appreciating art.

Crafting jewelry from scrap

Having her gentle, caring nature be valued.

Men.

Dislikes:

Bullshit. Can't stand people who don't communicate logically.

Being spoken down to.

Her appearance being mocked or intelligence belittled.

Social sycophancy.

Being lied to, having her trust broken when she so rarely gives it.

Unfairness, aimed at her or those she feels protective over ( friends, underlings )

Pointless violence.

Risk taking.

Most things considered *edible* on Pandora.

Men. -

Asks are Open!

#borderlands 3 #bl3 #borderlands #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #my writing #my hcs #seifa #leech lord

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ghoulciifer · 4 years

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submission:

@androgynouswordsmyth: “Hi Tum c: this is for your matchup event! 5’6”, with an hourglass figure, has that broad shouldered goddess energy going on. Used to swim competitively in highschool & still have a nice shape. Would describe my style as athletic comfort meets swamp witch. Love wearing black, it goes with everything. But also one of those people that wears workout clothes because they’re comfortable & easy. An admirer of all things relating to the occult & witchcraft. I have two tattoos small ones on my upper thigh & on the inside of my bicep. Often asks “What’s your sign?” Green eyes & shoulder length brown hair that is dyed seafoam green. I am soft spoken & gentle when I interact with everybody. All about self growth & healing. A huge advocate for self care. Love venting about my dumb corporate job. Deep down I'm a rebel anarchist. Often says things like “I’m just a cog in their machine” or “metal till I die”. My end game is writing fantasy novels for a living writing is my passion. I am a person who gets lost in thought & day dreams, a homebody who is fatigued & curls up in bed with Netflix playing in the background while I write rp responses or some of my own stuff. I have depression & anxiety, which I manage with both medication & therapy. Am attracted to bad boys/girls. Kindness & respect in my relationships are important, emotional maturity & a sense of humor are huge & my favorite color is dark pine green. Someone from BNHA, NSFW. Write what feels right.”

notes: aiden! i’m so happy you participated in my event, also you seem like the coolest person? ever? so of course i had to pair you up with one of the coolest dudes in bnha! your support means the world, thank you so much for being my mutual on this hell app ❥

why i matched you:

» you and dabi would get along exceptionally well, both with how you are and how you present yourself. your inner anarchists would collide beautifully and no doubt lead you two into trouble, but who else would you rather start a riot with than someone like him? he thinks it’s kickass that you understand what it means to be a pawn in society’s game, and has no issue with having you by his side to tear that shit down.

» dabi really adores your aesthetic. he finds it incredibly intriguing and thinks it suits your personality well; your hair, your occult lifestyle, and boy does he love your tattoos. he often offers to pay (w stolen money ofc) for you to get more if you want them - one of the best ways of self expression is covering yourself with art, and he supports it wholeheartedly. he likes to trace the ink on your skin during intimate moments and often finds himself admiring them elsewhere, thinking about how gorgeous you’d look with a few more pieces in places only he could see.

» though he might not be as poetic as you, dabi admires your creativity and urges you to keep up with your passion. he’s going to be super lowkey about it but he shows that feeling by doing smaller things, like picking up notebooks for you here and there or offering to get you better quality pens for when you’re brainstorming a story. he won’t tell you but he sometimes reads your stories at night while you’re sleeping (only the ones you’ve offered for him to read, though), and is always left in awe of how talented his girl is.

» when he’s not painting the town red or burning someone to a crisp, he’s more than happy to stay at home with you and curl up with a good show. despite his wicked, cold demeanor he’s actually very affectionate with the person he chooses to pursue! so expect lots of gentle touches, lazy kisses here and there, soft whispers here and there about how warm you are and how nice you feel against his charred skin. he’s not afraid to show you his love because if you can stick with someone like him, well, that’s proof enough that you’re worth it all.

» dabi never does anything without purpose. every action he takes is a part of the grander scheme of things, and he does so with such a drive that is rivaled by most heroes. so you can definitely check maturity off your list. as far as humor goes? he’s a smug bastard, and his sly remarks and teases are aimed directly at you for the sole purpose of making you smile. sometimes he’ll just sit and say the dumbest things to see how hard he can make you laugh, because in a life surrounded by death and darkness, your giggles really help him see it all in a different light.

» dabi’s experienced enough trauma to understand what your inter turmoil is like, but he’s beyond proud of you for taking charge and handling it however you can. he’ll be your biggest supporter when you need it and is so goddamn protective of you. you’ll never not feel safe, because it’s that constant worry in the back of his mind about how just being with him puts a target on your back that pushes him to take extra precaution. you might have a few close calls here and there because, let’s face it, villains are ruthless - but at the end of the day he’s always able to pull you right back to him and remind you he’ll always come for you.

drabble:

Dabi rolls off of your spent body with a slight groan, the thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies glowing in the dim light of the bedroom. Your chests rise and fall to a steady rhythm of labored breathing - and as much as you both loved being tangled with each other mere minutes ago, you need a second to let your sweltering skin cool off and your aching muscles to relax after that particularly tiring session. Dabi catches the exasperated sigh escaping your lips and grins from your slumped form in his peripheral.

He always thought you looked the most beautiful like this. When your eyes were half lidded and pupils blown, skin covered in teeth marks and bruises, hair haphazardly strewn about on the pillows. It was a sign he did a job well done, and the image brands itself into his memory every time he’s lucky enough to see it happen. Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t see that sinfully innocent smile tug at the corners of your mouth when you catch him zoning in on your post sex euphoria.

“Y’know, you’re more than welcome to take a picture… they last much longer.”

He laughs, a short exhale from his pierced nose, “I might just do that, doll. Next time.”

Your smile grows wider and you prop yourself up on your elbows, sliding over the tangled sheets to get closer to him and be able to reach and trace over the stapled skin of his chest with delicate fingertips. He closes his eyes at the feeling before loosely wrapping an arm around your lower back, thumb gliding back and forth just below your ribs.

You bask in this comfortable silence for what feels like a lifetime. This was your favorite part of the aftercare, just enjoying each other’s presence that much more as you regain a stable heartbeat, eventually letting Dabi gather you in his strong hands to lay you over his scarred chest when the cool air overstays its welcome on his skin. Once your cheek meets his chest he leans forward to ghost a kiss into your damp hairline, lips lingering there a bit longer every time. The steady beat of his heart usually lulled your eyes closed with its melody. At this point, it was all routine.

Dabi is the first to break the silence, the deep gravel in his voice reverberating through his chest against your ear, “Y’know… if we’re gonna fall asleep like this, the least you could do is read me a bedtime story.”

“Too tired… s’your fault.” he feels your smile and hot breath against his pectoral, broad chest rumbling in laughter at your quip.

“Hm, guess I need to go easier next time. But you weren’t complaining when I was balls dee-“

“Dabi!” You smack his skin and whip your head upward to look him in the eye with a look of feigned shock, and it's hard to contain the giggle that escapes from your dropped jaw. He chuckles again before craning his neck to leave a peck at your bottom lip, his hand raising to push your head gently down to his chest again, the other finding its way beneath the pillow under his head.

“Shh, just go to sleep, stupid.”

“Shut up… dummy.”

matchups are CLOSED! thank you to those who entered or have been keeping up with this event! remember you can check to see updates on matchups + if your matchup has been posted via the #tumplaysmatchmaker tag!

#tumplaysmatchmaker #nishiikun’s events #dabi x reader #dabi matchup #dabi fic #dabi x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha matchup #bnha fic #dabi bnha

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plasticflowering · 3 years

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DEVIL TEASER ANALYSIS PART 4: LEEDO

Leedo’s symbolism took me some thinking. There are the obvious themes of time running out, with the last grains of sand running through the hourglass, the pocket watch, etc. In the fancafe teaser card, the image of a blank clock face seems superimposed on his chest, near his heart. As opposed to the others in the “warm” color spectrum of teasers (Hwanwoong and Ravn), Leedo is only backlit in red, and the stormy black-grey background brings to mind a foreground of discord, mystery, and strife for which passion is only an underpinning. But most all, it brings to mind SMOKE. Where Ravn’s teaser images made me think “fire, in its purest form”, Leedo is the byproduct of fire, of passion and heartbreak. He’s gone through it, and he’s scarred by it. That seems to be the elemental influence we’re dealing with here.

I also have to point out that colors on the hourglass are inverted in a photo negative effect. While that seems like it could have been a color scheme choice, I have to follow all these threads where they lead, and point to the lyrical theme of MANY songs in the storyline thus far: turning back time.

The clock over the heart, the inverted hourglass, the swirling clock face in the background of the oracle card: it all spells regret and the inability to let go, to me. Reliving the same thing, in ones own heart. Wanting to go back, but being unable to. In TBONTB, and even CBH, we saw Leedo as a very emotional figure, and this is no different. He was exhibiting a lot of anger in a tub of BLOOD, being held in that giant hand. I’m formulating a theory that the symbolism of hands represents the “relationship”/experience itself that led to this heartbreak on the lyrical theme, but I’m not quite there yet. However, with even the whisper of that reading in mind, Leedo was, more than anyone else, held in the palm of his own heartbreaking experience, getting angrier and angrier about it.

Hell, you could even interpret the heartbreak as a non-romantic one if we move into the overt symbolism of the visual story arc Leedo never wants to lose anyone else, again. The human child, the ones who trusted him as a monarch, his past self.

The clock in his heart rewinds, the clock in his heart resets. In his MV teaser the unifying factor in all the scenes is the irreverence. He’s Jokerfied, and it’s not just the suit. Where Ravn was bringing to mind images of self-destruction, Leedo’s flaming wings have big avenging angel energy, his wild animal behavior in the paintball scenes brought to mind a man who can no longer be controlled and laughs in the face of being hurt. “I dare you” vibes.

That scream? That growl?

Have you ever had your heart broken, and you can’t move on, nor can you take responsibility? You just want to go back, maybe not to make things better, but to never have experienced the heartbreak at all for even another minute? That’s what this is giving me. He’s been engulfed by the flames already, but now the smoke is in his eyes.

#leedo #oneus #v.thots #v.devil analysis #devil #no diggity #v.analysis

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cursebreaker-lilith · 4 years

Photo

I only posted her original profile in September, but I’ve changed some stuff and wanted to do a new drawing. Lili was pretty new to me then, and I’ve found her voice a lot more since so it only felt right to have a do over on her profile.

This is all up to the beginning of year 6.

EDIT: Some formatting changes made 5-12-21

BASICS

Name: Lilith Silvia Vesta Brooks

Nicknames: Lili, Pipsqueak, Pip

Name Meaning: Lilith references a figure from Jewish folklore, Silvia comes from her grandmother’s name and references a figure from Roman mythology, Vesta was also chosen by her grandmother and references the Roman goddess of the hearth.

Gender: Cis Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 16 (Variable depending on what year I’m writing about)

Birthday: October 19th, 1972

Zodiac: Libra

Blood Status: Half-blood

Ethnicity/Nationality: White Brit

Sexuality: Self identifies primarily with queer but is okay with being called bisexual. Is also probably on both the asexual and aromantic spectrum, but the words for them hadn’t been coined in her time period.

Appearance

Body:

Height: 165cm / 5′5

Build: Average to stocky, hourglass shape

Eyes: A bright yellow-green, noticeably a bit big and round.

Hair: Pale blonde hair that is very thin and fine. She likes doing it up in different ways, from ponytails, to pigtails, to braids. Right before starting her 6th year, she cut her hair short and permed it on an impulse encouraged by her Muggle friends.

Skin: Pale skin that burns easily but quickly fades into a tan

Misc: Small and usually unnoticeable scars scattered across her hands and face from ice in the Ice Vault that will fade wholly with time (most already have by 6th year). Pierced ears--one in each lobe as a teenager but adds more as an adult.

Material Items:

Clothing: As a young child, she tried to keep up with mainstream Muggle fashion. She preferred lots of bright colors, stripes, gaudy jewelry, and scrunchies. Dear lord she loves scrunchies. As she got older however, she began to phase out of the bright colors and mainstream fashion into something which would soon be called grunge. Not completely grunge however as she still loves her statement earrings and scrunchies. Usually wears baggy/non form fitting clothing.

Accessories: Almost always wearing some sort of dangly and obnoxious statement earrings. Always has at least three scrunchies on her person.

In her school bag: Her wand, at least five scrunchies, school books and papers, books Rowan wants her to read, an old crochet penguin for good luck (her first attempt at crochet animals), crochet hooks and yarn, journal and papers related to Cursed Vault plans, at least three cool looking rocks she found on the ground.

Reference:

Face Claim: N/A

Voice Claim: N/A

Personality

Traits:

+ loyal, friendly, extroverted, responsible, mature, kind, adaptable, quick learner, resourceful, hopeful, courageous

+/— determined, good liar, intense, clever, intelligent, independent

— obsessive, untrusting, secretive, forceful, quick temper, angry, abrasive, single minded, rule breaker, rude, spiteful

Description:

Lili has a lot of pent up anger and a quick temper. She’s angry at her family, at authority, at the world. She’s not good at processing this anger and thus tends to lash out at people very often and often very cruelly and violently. She knows this and tries to keep in check but isn’t very good at doing so even as she ages. Because of her anger, she also tends to keep grudges for quite a while, even for stupid or petty reasons and is slow to admit she’s wrong.

In a better world, she would be known for her friendliness. Lili can be very friendly and relaxed. She talks first and makes a judgement second, trying to be as open minded as possible. She’s very casual yet polite and likes people being the same back to her.

Lili is determined in a way that tends towards the negative. Her laser focus on things tend to quickly become obsessions if someone she trusts doesn’t intervene quickly enough.

After her mother stopped being a parent towards her at a young age, Lili learned to take care of herself quickly. She’s become clever and resourceful in her steps to becoming independent. It’s left her mature and responsible for her age, but also untrusting and secretive, convinced she can do it on her own (or with Rowan only).

Lili is very loyal to those that earn her loyalty. For those she cares about, she would do anything. If you do something to lose that loyalty, expect harsh treatment after if Lili even deigns to speak to you. She’s not afraid of cutting people out of her life if they betray or anger her.

Other:

Likes: crafts (crochet, knitting, sewing), Rowan and Barnaby, scrunchies, dangly earrings, being busy, collecting things, fashion

Dislikes: Merula and Ismelda, Rakepick, Snape, most other Slytherins, people who get in her way, Dumbledore, Doctor Who after the 5th Doctor, not getting enough sleep, flying class

MBTI: ESTP

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Hogwarts

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

OWL Classes:

Astronomy: 6/10 (E)

Charms: 9/10 (O)

DADA: 9/10 (O)

Flying: 2/10 (A)

Herbology: 3/10 (A)

History of Magic: 2/10 (A)

Potions: 4/10 (A)

Transfiguration: 7/10 (E)

OWL Electives:

Ancient Runes: 9/10 (O)

Arithmancy: 6/10 (O)

Care of Magical Creatures: 6/10 (O)

NEWT Classes:

Ancient Runes: 9/10 (O)

Arithmancy: 6/10 (E)

Charms: 9/10 (O)

DADA: 9/10 (O)

Transfiguration: 7/10 (E)

Extracurriculars:

Clubs: Dueling Club (3rd-4th year), Fencing Club (2nd-5th year), Transfiguration Club (occasionally from 2nd year on)

Quidditch: N/A

Prefect or Head Boy/Girl: N/A

Best Classes:

Charms It’s the one class she’s very naturally talented at. She never needs to study much, but she barely has to try with Charms. Someday she’ll beat Ben and be the best in their year at the class.

Defense Against the Dark Arts She’s not good at this because of any professor, she’s good at this because of her excursions into the Cursed Vaults giving her practical knowledge.

Worst Classes:

Flying Listen, if people were meant to fly, then they’d have wings, or a spell letting people properly fly would be created by now. Lili will be staying on the ground, thank you very much.

Herbology She’s lived in the city her whole life and being around so many plants is strange. She doesn’t hate the class, but she does use it to catch up with her friends rather than study.

Potions She doesn’t have the patience for potions, and that’s even when she doesn’t have Snape refusing to acknowledge her existence.

Favorite Professors:

Flitwick She thinks Flitwick is great. There’s not much more to say. He’s responsible but not smothering, and still thinks well of her brother. If she ever had to pick an adult to trust, it would be Flitwick.

Kettleburn She had taken Care of Magical Creatures because Rowan had wanted a third elective and Lili didn’t want to take Muggle Studies or Divination. However, she ended up loving the class and thinks Kettleburn is hilarious. She honestly wished she could take the class NEWT level, but her schedule was already full.

Least Favorite Professors:

Snape She has a very complicated relationship with Snape. He hates her because of her brother (who he did not get along with), because she reminds him of James Potter, and because her nickname, Lili, reminds him of his lost love Lily Evans every time he hears it. Lili, of course, does not know any of this and thinks he just hates her for no reason. Jacob thought he was a Death Eater (he got that from whispers older kids who Jacob knew were definitely Death Eaters), so Lili uses that as justification to not like him.

Rakepick She never trusted her and barely liked her, even before she became a professor. Her opinion didn’t go improve any time in fifth year.

Magic

1st Wand: Blackthorn, unicorn hair, 11 3/4 in, shiny and slightly flexible

“Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban.”

2nd Wand: Aspen, phoenix feather, 12 in, fairly rigid

“In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.”

Special Abilities: Natural Legilimens, Occlumency

Boggart

Form: Jacob telling her she’s useless and unwanted and that everything she’s doing is for nothing.

Riddikulus: Has not found anything yet that works

Amortentia

What they smell: the Owlery, Standard Ingredient, and something else, something she can’t figure out

What they smell like to others: Lavender, hot chocolate, campfire smoke

Patronus

Form: A goshawk. Independent and intelligent hunters who focus intently on stalking their prey.

Memory: A childhood memory of going to a fair. Jacob looked after her the entire night, and it’s one of the last times she remembers seeing both of her parents laugh.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Herself with her family–Jacob is there and looks like how she remembers him, and her mother and father are holding hands and smiling. As she ages, her mother and father are phased out of the image and replaced by her friends, her new family.

FAMILY

Father: David Brooks

Muggle

b. 1943

Works at an accounting firm.

In theory, he was alright with magic and the wizarding world. In practice, it unnerved him more than he could say. When his children started doing accidental magic, and when Jacob came home from Hogwarts talking about nothing but spells and magic, that was it for David. He filed for divorce in 1980 and hasn’t spoken to his ex-wife or children since. He has since married to a fellow Muggle, treating her children as his own and speaking rarely of his biological children. He doesn’t even know Jacob disappeared.

Mother: Carina Flora Brooks (nee Braddock)

Pureblood

b. 1944

Ravenclaw

Works for a wizarding travel magazine as a photographer, travels around the world frequently

She was perhaps not meant to be a mother, and would have been happier following in her brother’s shoes of travelling the world with no responsibilities. However, her mother was insisting she marry and Carina, in a fit of rebellion, decided to marry a nice Muggle she knew instead of the purebloods her mother had picked out.

Carina was never very good with either of her children, and in particular could never get along with Jacob, resorting to abuse (emotional and physical) to try to get him to behave how she wanted. Despite this, she totally shut down when Jacob disappeared, feeling like a failure. This led to her severely neglecting her daughter to wallow in her own misery day and night. It also led to an irrational hatred of Hogwarts. She refuses to read any letters sent by them and has made several subtle attempts to make Lili miss the Hogwarts Express.

Brother: Jacob Seraphinus Ulysses Brooks

Half-blood

b. March 8th, 1967

Slytherin

Currently missing.

Never able to make friends easily or keep his mouth shut, Jacob always had a hard time fitting in, so he turned to books. He preferred fiction over nonfiction, but one history book’s mention of Cursed Vaults on Hogwarts’ grounds led to a search that would dominate his, and his sister’s, life.

He was an outcast in his house and Hogwarts, besides for a few acquaintances, and instead focused on reaching his goals. He was reckless and brave (the Sorting Hat considered putting him in Gryffindor), but obsessive, secretive, and increasingly dependent on the idea of “the end justifies the means.”

Grandfather: Ambrose Braddock

Pureblood

b. 1903

Ravenclaw

Deceased

Known for being Britain’s first natural Legilimens in a century. The Braddock family is known for being a line of natural Legilimens, but none in the family had had the ability in five generations before Ambrose was born. This ended up leading to an offer of marriage from the Malfoy family who wanted the connection to this rare ability. Later realized his grandson was also a natural Legilimens, but died before he could teach Jacob more than the basics on how to control it and never realized his granddaughter also had the ability.

Died of sickness in 1975 at age 72

Grandmother: Silvia Braddock (nee Malfoy)

Pureblood

b. 1911

Slytherin

Never worked, has always been a housewife

Your typical upper class, conservative grandmother. She may not believe that strongly in pureblood mania anymore, but she still believes in things like “children should be seen, not heard,” and corporal punishment. Was in an arranged marriage to Ambrose and never really grew to love him feeling she was marrying beneath her Malfoy heritage. Fairly reclusive nowadays, only entertaining old friends for brunch and going to the occasional pureblood party.

Uncle: Victor Felinus Braddock

Pureblood wizard

b. 1940

Gryffindor

Has a different job every few months, deosn’t really needs to have one and his work ethic shows that

Considered a fun uncle by his nephew, and an annoyance by his niece. Has a lot of stories, and a slight drinking problem. While his mother was annoyed at him for having a dalliance with a Muggle-born, she was even more furious that he refused to marry Suzie. Victor didn’t want to be tied down, and left her to raise their two daughters only appearing in their lives every few years.

Cousins: Donna and Caroline Jones

Half-bloods

b. 1960 and 1975

Both Gryffindor

Welsh

Their mother Susan Jones was a Muggle-born Sorted into Gryffindor in the same year as Victor Braddock. The two have had an on again, off again relationship since their Hogwarts years that has resulted in two daughters.

Donna was sorted into Gryffindor in 1971 (meaning she would have been roommates with Lily Evans which is a coincidence I swear) and it’s easy to see why. She’s confident, brash, and blunt. She has many problems with her father and refuses to interact with that side of the family. Works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the Ministry.

Caroline is the opposite of her much older sister and was surprised to find herself in Gryffindor (Sorted there in Lili’s 3rd year). She’s timid and quiet, but with a backbone hidden underneath. She wilts at any negative tones, but is always ready to extend a hand to anyone who has hurt her, even multiple times.

Step family: Sabina Brooks, Ioan and Luca Ciobanu

Muggles

b. 1949, 1975, and 1980

Immigrants from Romania to England

After divorcing Carina, David began dating Sabina shortly after and later married her, acting as a father to her two young children. The four of them live together in London.

Pets:

Alfred An easily frightened black cat that once belonged to Jacob

Doctor Hoot A large barred owl that frequently forgets it’s an owl and not a lapdog

FRIENDS

Best Friends:

Rowan Khanna Her best friend!! She originally befriended Rowan because Rowan reminded her of her muggle friend, but it soon blossomed into a different, much closer relationship. Whenever Rowan is gone, Lili doesn’t really know what to do (”I’m going to cut all the sleeves off my robes.” “Why??” “Rowan left an hour ago and she’s like 85% of my impulse control.”) and Lili would never have made it through any of the Cursed Vaults without her. She probably also would have gotten expelled for brawling and dueling in like second year without Rowan. I’m not joking about that impulse control thing.

Barnaby Lee Lili didn’t like Barnaby at first. Even before he worked for Merula, she thought he was nothing more than a stupid jock and made fun of how Snape would pick on him in Potions. Then she actually talked to him and did a complete 180. “I’ve only known Barnaby for an hour, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and them myself.” She liked how sweet and genuine he was despite his awful upbringing. He’s always there to support her, and she’s really grown to love him for that. He once thought he had a crush on her, but it wasn’t really romantic (”The feeling was friendship but he had never experienced it before.”).

Good Friends:

Bill Weasley He’s like the big brother Jacob should’ve been. She was not thrilled to have a complete stranger helping with the Vaults, but in hindsight she’s so very glad she listened to Rowan. Lili isn’t sure she could have gotten half of what she’s done done without Bill’s help and steadfastness.

Charlie Weasley Their friendship kind of crept up on Lili. Charlie was closer friends with Ben and Barnaby, so while Lili had a passing familiarity with him before the Forest Vault, she wouldn’t have called them friends. She was surprised when she turned out to really enjoy his company when he started helping with the Cursed Vaults.

Chiara Lobosca Chiara was someone Lili tangentially knew due to people confusing them for each other (the hair color; once Chiara hits a growth spurt and Lili doesn’t people stop). Then Lili is forced to partner with Chiara in Herbology in 3rd year, and besides seeing her Herbology grade go up the slightest bit, she finds a friend in Chiara, appreciating the girl’s seemingly infinite kindness.

Friends:

Nymphadora Tonks They get along in classes, but Lili doesn’t trust Tonks with anything serious.

Liz Tuttle The two have many overlapping friends but don’t really hang out with each other.

Badeea Ali She really respects Badeea, but they just don’t have many reasons to be around each other.

Jae Kim Lili thinks he’s hilarious and very smart, but doesn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

It’s Complicated:

Ben Copper Probably the most complicated relationship here. She befriended him out of pity and continued their friendship because of his skill at Charms. He’s had a crush on her since they were 11 when she stood up for him which no one had ever done before. Then the Red Robed Wizard Reveal tm happened and Lili dropped him and ignored him, though he tried to make it up to her. 6th year only drives a deeper wedge between them as Lili can’t stand his recent behaviour. Ben finally confessing about his love for Lili in 6th year didn’t help mend anything either.

Tulip Karasu After finding out that Tulip had purposefully not told her about Jacob’s room, Lili instantly decided she was an undesirable but necessary ally. Lili does not like Tulip for most of their time at Hogwarts as she’s really pissed that someone would keep her brother’s things from her. Lili will talk to her about the Cursed Vaults, but they do not hang out and Lili does not consider her a friend. This really, really hurts Tulip’s feelings but Lili doesn’t really care. The relationship does get a bit better in 6th year, but it’s never going to be a close one. In a better world without the Vaults, they’d probably get along smashingly as while Lili isn’t a prankster, she has no problem egging them on.

Love Interests:

Penny Haywood Her first, longest, and most confusing crush. She was wary of Penny at first. Popular girls were rarely that 100% nice, but Penny truly was. She also had a nice smile and pretty hair and soft hands…. It took Lili quite a while (like four years and Bill telling her) to figure out it was a crush and then….she did absolutely nothing. She panicked and stopped talking to Penny for a while before sheepishly apologizing when Penny confronted her. They went to the Celestial Ball together, but “as friends.” That did not stop them from having a Moment that Lili interpreted completely wrongly and she assumed Penny didn’t like her romantically. Penny in fact did, and since Lili never reacted to their Moment in the proper way, Penny assumed that Lili wasn’t interested. The two continued having crushes on each other for the rest of their time at Hogwarts and remained close friends after they both graduated.

Talbott Winger Her second, less confusing, crush. Similar to Barnaby, Lili didn’t think much of Talbott at first. He was that one kid who was talented at Transfiguration and she once saw him chatting casually to an owl in the Owlery. He was weird and she ignored him. Then she was paired with him on a class assignment in 3rd year and a friendship bloomed despite Talbott’s protests. It was a casual thing at first, but then Lili helped Talbott find his mom’s necklace, and their talk under the stars about family and the past and future deepened their friendship. Having already figured out she had a crush on Penny by this time, she managed to get the signs that she now also had a crush on Talbott, which made her panic, again. However, since Talbott is even worse with emotions than her, she didn’t do anything drastic like she did with Penny. They went on one date in 6th year but that was going too fast for Talbott and they decided to stay friends until Talbott felt more comfortable being around people. Lili took this….mostly gracefully.

Diego Caplan The two met in the Dueling Club in 4th year. Diego was impressed with Lili’s skill and tried to befriend her and also maybe flirt with her a bit. Lili, who tends to gravitate towards people who are unashamedly themselves, found his over the top flirting hilarious and was instantly endeared to Diego. She really enjoyed being around him, finding his lightheartedness helped her forget some of her troubles with the Cursed Vaults, especially in 5th year. He asked her out on a date, her first one, and she agreed. She enjoyed the date, but 5th year was the peak of her obsession with the Cursed Vaults so she broke it off. They later dated again during 6th year, after Lili’s one date with Talbott.

Dormmates:

Rowan Khanna see above

Desdemona Selwyn An OC. Their entire relationship can be explained with that one text post that’s like “Bitch.” “Blocked.” “Wait unblock me I need to tell you something.” “Unblocked.” “Bitch.”

Vidalia Barrows An OC. Lili has said like two sentences to Vidalia and she plans to keep it that way. Vidalia just eats and sleeps and does whatever Desdemona says to do.

Doesn’t Interact:

Murphy McNully/Skye Parkin/Orion Amari/Erika Rath She’s not involved in Quidditch.

Andre Egwu I just can’t think of a way to work him into the plot lol They would get along somewhat well otherwise.

Enemies:

Merula Snyde Hated each other’s guts for a while. Then Lili gave up her Frog Choir spot and Merula gained a small crush (even if Lili was a total ass about giving it up). While they’ll never be friends, by the time of 5th and 6th year they’ve become reluctant allies similar to Lili and Tulip above. Lili will probably never totally befriend her, but she’s learned to be civil and that’s progress.

Ismelda Murk Lili doesn’t really like Ismelda but she considers her all bark and no bite. Ismelda hates Lili because she thinks Lili and Barnaby are gonna end up dating and is jealous.

Desdemona Selwyn An OC. See above.

Most of Slytherin House Lili has never been shy about being half Muggle and being proud of it, and in a house that still worships Voldemort, that sets her apart. The few that don’t find her being pro-Muggle distasteful don’t want to be exiles in their own dorms and avoid talking to her.

Story

Childhood:

Lili’s childhood was never that great. Her parents fought frequently over her and Jacob’s use of accidental magic, and this eventually caused them to divorce when Lili was 9. Her mother in particular was emotionally and physically abusive but Jacob spared her from the worst of it.

Jacob was always the best part of her childhood. She loved her parents, but Jacob was the person she always looked forward to seeing. When he went to Hogwarts, she was upset for weeks, and when he went missing, she was devastated (especially as he went missing the night of her birthday).

Her mother didn’t take it well. Carina was not particularly close with Jacob, but this obviously big failure of her as a parent hit her hard. She became very emotionally withdrawn from Lili and threw herself into her photography work, leaving the country, and Lili, for weeks at a time.

Lili had to become very independent very quickly after that. That, plus the fact that she didn’t have any non-Muggle friends meant she trusted very few people and lied often. Getting her Hogwarts letter was a relief and a promise of freedom

Hogwarts:

: )

see here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467043

Adulthood:

Lili is very distraught after graduation and leaves everyone she knows behind to travel Europe and find herself. She spends several years doing this, helping people and doing odd jobs.

Eventually, she finds that she has a talent for languages, picking up a few easily in her travels, and starts to consider possibly doing something related to language whenever she goes back to Britain.

Miscellaneous

She fuckin loves scrunchies.

Has lived in a Muggle neighbourhood her whole life.

Likes muggle TV. Grew up watching Doctor Who. Not impressed with the 6th Doctor, and glad she was away at Hogwarts during his run. Favorite Doctor is the 4th and she knit herself her own version of his scarf.

Likes collecting things! She loves cool rocks on the sidewalk, tacky tourist souvenirs, and things you find for $1 in a thrift store.

She can knit, crochet and sew. She likes making little crochet animals and giving them to friends (or just keeping them and having a plushy empire around her bed).

Loves having her photo taken and has a whole collection of photos, but hates taking photos. It reminds her of her mother.

One of her Muggle friends got her into fencing. She thought it would be useful to hone her athletic skills with, so she continued doing it when she went back to Hogwarts in the fall.

The type of person who needs to be doing something 24/7. When she doesn’t have anything to focus on, she tends to be all over the place and rather annoying.

Quieter and more complacent as a kid. it was after her family broke apart that the need to be so driven started to become a part of her personality.

Love Like You from Steven Universe is a song for her and Jacob (from Jacob’s POV)

Chameleon by Michela is a song that fits her

Tropes:

Big Brother Worship

Determinator

Family Eye Resemblance

Good is Not Nice

Hair Trigger Temper

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Parental Neglect

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #jacobs sibling #lili brooks #art be mine #this is super long lol #pls enjoy #texttexttext post

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thecleanvpcrew · 4 years

Text

basic information

full name: samira declan. nickname(s) / alias(es): none. she hates having her name shortened. age: thirty-five (35) as of 0007. date of birth: november 3, 1972. hometown: junon. current location: travels frequently, base of operations is shinra headquarters in midgar. ethnicity: caucasian. gender: cis female. pronouns: she / hers. orientation: gray-romantic pansexual. religion: faithless. political affiliation: she really doesn’t give a shit. occupation: turk — cleaner. living arrangements: a high rise penthouse apartment topside of midgar. language(s) spoken: common.

Physical Appearance

face claim: gemma arterton. hair colour: dark brown, dyed black. eye colour: brown. height: 5′7″. weight: 125 lbs. build: toned muscle, hourglass figure. tattoos: none. piercings: ears. scars: a large scar on the round of her left hip, starting from the bone and shifting up diagonally -- she was pushed from a window on one of her earlier jobs. clothing style: black. turk-assigned suit, sans the white button-down shirt. black dress jacket’s top three buttons undone, purposely revealing ample cleavage. black stiletto heels as opposed to the oxfords. no tie. full & fitted leather gloves. deep red painted nails and red lip stain with black-lined eyes to a sharp edge. she wears designer dresses on her days off - always smarter in style and with concise details. usual expression: bored or disinterested. a flat expression. distinguishing characteristics: full lips, smart angled bob hair cut, dark eyes, a spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose.

Health

physical ailments: she’s healthy, so far. neurological conditions: whatever she has, it’s never been diagonsed. there are speculations that she may be borderline with antisocial personality disorder or something similar thereto, but nothing official. allergies: none. sleeping habits: she naps during the day, but typically sleeps 3-4 hours consecutively a night. eating habits: she eats whatever she wants, whenever she wants to, and works it off later. exercise habits: a lot of cardio health and minor weight training. she runs a lot, and typically keeps herself flexible. emotional stability: she is the queen of apathy. if you manage to register an emotional response from her, it’s probably irritation. though she does find great enjoyment out of pissing people off. that amuses her. sociability: on a scale of 1-10, sometimes a 3. she’s social when she wants to be, but even then it’s selective. body temperature: average. addictions: caffeine. drug use: none. alcohol use: socially, and occasionally.

Personality

label: type 5: the investigator. positive traits: capable, efficient, honest, organized, persuasive, realistic, thorough, vivacious. negative traits: abrasive, compulsive, destructive, hateful, morbid, narcissistic, petty, venomous. goals / desires: to do her job - she’s happy where she is, doing what she’s doing. it truly is her utmost desire. fears: emotional attachments. hobbies: her work is honestly her most involving hobby. otherwise - sex, high fashion, and self-care rituals. habits: she smokes a very specific brand of clove cigarettes when she works, and only when she works.

Favourites

weather: rainy weather. thunderstorms. colour: dark red and off-white, black, gold. music: heavy techno, with thrumming bass. movies: samira doesn’t really watch movies. sport: none. beverage: black coffee. food: tuna sashimi. animal: cats.

Family

father: arthur declan (deceased). mother: diane declan (deceased). sibling(s): none. children: none, she’s incapable of carrying a child. pet(s): none. family’s financial status: middle/working class.

Extra

zodiac sign: scorpio. mbti: intj - the architect. enneagram: type 5 - the investigator. temperament: melancholic. hogwarts house: slytherin. moral alignment: chaotic neutral primary vice: lust. primary virtue: diligence. element: fire.

#➵ ( about ) ⥪ you will not bury me again ⥭

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stressedspidergirlsfandomblog · 4 years

Link

This is the first chapter to that random ass idea I had that got over 100 notes. Thanks to @ahh-fuck and @ruusverd-witcher annnd @shelikesgoodfics this actually got developed into more than a tumblr post. So, thanks. You can read here under the cut.

When Geralt had first left Kaer Morhen, he had had trouble believing everything he had been taught about humans was true. Times had been changing, and the general public had been turning on witchers. He had left, expecting to make some kind of fortune, a name for himself, and to live differently than he had lived in the keep. He had expected fear to stop dogging his footsteps. He had been wrong.

And yet, when he had killed his first monster, he had learned every single cynical training master had been correct. The girl had not thanked him, he had not done a noble deed, he had simply killed a rapist, and terrified normal people.

His life, as promised, had been full of miserable hardship, frequent wounds, and constant discomfort. It was near impossible to get a room in some towns, and yet in others he did just fine. He had some friends across the continent, at least until Blaviken. There, he had managed to turn himself into an enemy of most people, and with his distinctive white hair it wasn’t as if he was easy to hide. The alderman had turned on him, but without arresting or killing him at the very least.

Stregobor had made his life even worse, spreading disdain for witchers all because Geralt hadn’t wanted to help him. They had a history as it was, and it wasn’t the first time Stregobor had fucked him over. The sorcerer had almost gotten him killed all thanks to general maliciousness and a faulty hourglass. Geralt was sure if he ran into Stregobor again, it would end badly for him, again.

It was for the best that he didn’t have feelings, not truly. A few vestigial memories, much like the now-useless tendon some people still had in their forearms. A reflex, perhaps, was all that remained of what it meant to feel. And if that didn’t always feel exactly true, well, he would make it true. The trials had hurt, and he had no desire to find himself back at Kaer Morhen as a failed experiment where they would attempt more trials to try and eradicate any lingering feelings of his. Not that he desired or didn’t desire, he killed monsters for coin so he could stay alive. That was it, that was all there was. He meditated to maintain control of his mind and body, he slept when and where he safely could, he ate when he could, and whenever possible, found a hot bath.

Until Posada.

He had decided to check out a ‘doevil’ in the fields at the Edge of the World. Since no such things existed, he had been somewhat derisive with the local townsfolk looking to contract his services. While he had not been wrong, the creature had been anything but a ‘doevil’ of any kind, he had received more than he bargained for.

The creature had been a sylvan, and while they had tussled, the creature had meant him no real harm. While they had tried riddles, and scuffles, it had near ended bloody when Filavandrel and his ilk had debated killing the witcher and Jaskier. Who had, for some gods forsaken reason seen Geralt in a tavern and decided to attach himself to the witcher like a burr on a woolen blanket. It had not displeased Geralt, since he could not feel displeasure, but it did inconvenience him, because now he had another life to protect other than his own. And he did not need that kind of encumbrance.

Nothing he had done had worked to drive the bard away, which had made things even more difficult. Not aggravating, he would have no idea what aggravation felt like. Not speaking to the bard did nothing. Not sharing supplies did nothing. Not giving details of various monster hunts did nothing. So Geralt switched tactics. He tried describing how he got his scars in gruesome detail, or at least so he’d thought. The bard simply complained he was light on details like always and had asked more questions. Just how bad did the bite of a wyvern hurt? Was a crushed ankle truly that hard for a witcher to recover from? Utterly mystified, Geralt had given up on driving away his unwanted hanger-on.

Soon enough they were sharing whether Geralt wanted to or not. If ‘want’ was even the right word for it. He was not accustomed to having to share what little he had. It didn’t make any sense to him that the bard would add to his supplies, or share a nicer blanket, or anything else. But being devoid of feelings it would make sense he would not understand the actions of those who had them and acted on them. Jaskier noticed he was cold, and as such put their bedrolls together and spread his cloak around them both. Jaskier’s cloak was much better quality and trapped heat far better. While he could not conceive of a single reason for the bard to do this, it meant he was warmer and experienced less physical discomfort so he didn’t bother to protest.

No part of the witcher code said he had to suffer privation. Nothing he had been taught said he had to be uncomfortable. It was just that he probably would be. If Jaskier could afford better food than he could, there was no rule saying he could not eat some of it if it was offered to him. And so by that logic he was able to accept things from the bard without hesitation. To kill monsters he needed enough to eat, and he could not lose fingers or toes to frostbite and still maintain his skills as a swordsman.

Another thing that made no sense to him at all was Jaskier’s lack of fear of him and total acceptance that Geralt would rarely if ever speak to him. Sometimes he would share a one-word answer or question, but much more than that was frequently out of the question. After he had made the mistake of letting Jaskier listen in on him negotiating a contract, the bard had puffed up full of righteous indignation.

‘Why won’t you talk to me like that? Look at you! You can speak full sentences when you want to! I thought all of that up in Posada was because of the elves and the lady of the fields, I thought it was some kind of magic. Now I know you just choose to be taciturn and silent with me on purpose!’

It had been patently unfair and untrue, Geralt just had no idea what to say to him most of the time. His response was simply ‘then go.’ He would have liked to have said ‘if it bothers you so much, you can go. I never asked you along. I’ve never asked you to stay, I’ve never done anything to indicate I want you trailing me around like a lost pup. And yet here you are.’ He just couldn’t do it. Jaskier hadn’t asked a question. Hadn’t demanded an answer, had just yelled at him for a bit, panting, and left to get himself a drink at the tavern. Geralt had been surprised the bard had returned that night. He had reeked of sex and ale, making Geralt’s nose itch uncomfortably. It had been difficult to fall asleep after that. The woman the bard had chosen had a particularly noxious perfume, and with his heightened senses he could hardly breathe for the rest of the night.

When he had packed up his things that morning, he had not expected Jaskier to stay with him, walking beside Roach like always. They passed through Aedirn into Temeria, heading for Redania.

Geralt had no way to explain to Jaskier what his training had entailed. Young witchers were not supposed to speak out of turn. They were not supposed to speak at all unless spoken to. They should use the minimum number of words to answer any question. If the training master could figure out how to answer with fewer words, you took that many raps as punishment for wasting time. The only time you were allowed to speak first or add words was when negotiating. You needed the skills to get a fair price per the risk of the monster. While adding excessive words was still punished, the training over how to negotiate was far more comfortable.

They continued on together, and while fishing for a meal stumbled upon a djinn. Immediately Jaskier did something completely stupid. While Geralt might not know what it is to have feelings, he fully knows the difference between stupid and not stupid. Deciding to call upon the power of a trapped and angry air-spirit was the definition of stupid. Not to mention he’d seen another side of the usually pleasant bard that day. Wishing apoplexy and painful death and forced love onto others. It had been an oddly uncomfortable chain of events. Geralt would have wished for a meal, which was why they were fishing in the first place. If only Jaskier hadn’t ignored him and had left more slack on the line they would have been eating catfish, not fighting off a djinn amphora.

When Jaskier had suffered horrible damage to his throat as a result of his impetuousness and questionable decision-making skills, Geralt had dragged him onto Roach and pushed both himself and his horse to find help. It had been more or less worthless. Chireadan had not given him the details of what tangling with Yennefer would entail at all. Just as Geralt had found he did not want the bard to lose his voice. It made no sense and made his stomach coil in knots. What should he care? Perhaps it would save him the trouble of having to keep the other man alive as they travelled. He had told the half elf he would sit on a scorpion for Jaskier. And he had meant it, which left him wondering for hours what was wrong with him.

By the time he had reached the sorceress he had managed to figure out why he would do anything for Jaskier: It was his duty as a witcher. He was there to save the people, albeit usually for coin. Although Jaskier did often provide a roof over his head, a warm bath, body heat, and the use of his cloak and bedding. It might not be coin, but it was a creature comfort freely given. A transaction, and he was indebted to the man with the cornflower blue eyes.

When all was said and done in Rinde, the town half destroyed, Geralt had learned something in him that should have been dead wasn’t. After kissing Yennefer he knew he would never want to kiss anyone else the way he wanted to kiss her. Sex with her had been unlike anything he had ever experienced and he would have done anything to do it again. Dangerous for a witcher to want anything other than the meeting of basic needs. He had left Rinde with Jaskier in tow.

It had been easy to ditch the bard in Oxenfurt and take a contract down the Pontar. With winter coming he had no desire to spend the frozen months stranded in the cold and made his way back to Kaedwen and Kaer Morhen just as the first snows began to fall.

He had spent much of his time that winter in meditation, working to quell and destroy any lingering vestigial feelings inside of himself. He had considered cutting out his own tongue rather than risk it betraying him around his companions. The urge to talk, to tell Jaskier things was sometimes so overwhelming he would have, if he had had any idea of how to begin. The problem was that he shouldn’t want to tell Jaskier anything, he should just want him gone. He should not hope that they will meet up again when spring begins to thaw the land and make travel possible. In fact, he should be relieved that he will be only responsible for himself until their paths cross again.

It had been easier to justify his longing to see Yennefer again. Sex was a primal want, and the witcher mutations hadn’t removed those from him. While it wasn’t a need, and his own hand would suffice when necessary, it had been so different with her. He had slept with plenty of whores, but there was something different about not paying. About someone who looked you in the eyes and desired you. No shame, no disgust, no vague reek of fear, nothing to indicate any distaste with the act. Not that many whores minded him, he was polite, he didn’t ask for much, and as such he wasn’t treated too oddly. There were plenty of monsters who looked like normal men, and whores had plenty of experience with those. There were also monsters who were nothing to be afraid of, and the women were well aware Geralt was one of them. No one looking to hurt you would say things like ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’

He stopped in Vengerberg on his way to a contract in Guleta. He’d made his way through Kaedwen trying to decide what to do with himself. Several contracts, little to eat, and a few non-life-threatening injuries had perhaps clouded his judgement and he’d found himself looking up the sorceress. She’d welcomed him with open arms, a hot bath, and several warm meals. Not to mention she had let him share her bed. In that time he’d recovered and moved on to the contract further south. Then, unable to help himself, he’d gone back to her. If pressed for a reason he could not have said why.

She had notified him of contracts she heard of through her own networks, and he had taken them. Sometimes she was able to portal him there, much to his and Roach’s disgust. Neither one of them liked walking through those cold black holes into an abyss. He was usually left to make his own way back, but at least it saved him some time overall. He was also never required to make his way back, either. Sometimes he felt a bit like a housecat, allowed out to wander as it willed and if it came back, all the better. And if not, well, there were other cats.

She did not mind his silences, or his one-word answers and questions. She knew what he was thinking. She could have entire conversations with him without him ever having to open his mouth. Although, she did eventually stop answering him unless he verbalized a response to her. It was easier after a while, sharing books, talking about abusive rulers, that sort of thing. History was easy, too, because he could recite answers to her just like he might have back in his schooling at the temple in Ellander, or at the keep.

While he did not like when she lost her temper at him, he bore it. And eventually grew brave enough to push back. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever really met before. The first time he’d snapped back he’d expected to find himself deposited in the middle of a frozen wasteland with no memory of how he’d gotten there. It hadn’t happened. They had bickered. He had left of his own free will, which surprised him, and then come back a few hours later feeling calmer. It had just been adrenaline, he told himself, not anger. Witchers couldn’t feel.

He ran into Jaskier on another contract, and was not unhappy to see the other man. They travelled together while he took down a bruxa and then he found himself drawn back to Vengerberg. No magic. His medallion wasn’t so much as twitching. No, he just felt like it would be alright to be there. A place where he had food, a roof, a warm place to sleep, and intellectual stimulation alongside the physical. It was as much a haven as he could have imagined while growing up. While Yennefer lost her temper and threw things around and was horrible at any kind of compromise, she never hit him. She never deliberately sought to hurt him or wound him. It was a strange kind of life. Until finally he moved on.

He faced down Foltest’s daughter and rescued her from being a striga. Afterwards, he recuperated in Ellander in Melitele’s temple until Jaskier came to find him. The bard had heard Geralt was injured and came to see him. It was good to see Jaskier again, and Geralt had found it was slightly easier to talk to the bard. Not as easy as he might like, but sometimes he was able to express a thought or two. Maybe get in a full sentence, and when he couldn’t, if he stared at the bard’s lute long enough Jaskier would sing or play and any need to have a conversation would be swept away by the music.

He had suffered some interesting events in Cintra, but he had six years before he would need to deal with the fallout of that particular incident. It had been nice to see Mousesack again. The druid was not shy of admitting their friendship and it had gotten him out of some miserable scrapes here and there. Not to mention it had stopped Calanthe from having his head decorating a pike on her castle walls. He sometimes wondered what Mousesack got out of their friendship.

He understood with Jaskier that the bard got inspiration for songs, and fame for being ‘trusted’ to travel with a witcher. And he got laid quite a bit for being brave enough to travel around with a monster. Geralt had greatly disliked when they had traveled to Oxenfurt and Jaskier had wanted to introduce Geralt to some of his friends. They had treated him much like they might treat a bear on a chain. A curiosity, a horrible beast trained to perform some tricks, but nothing of any value of its own beyond its strangeness. The bard had seemed mostly oblivious, and Geralt couldn’t fault him. It wasn’t as if he tried to keep up with the conversation or pay much attention. And he had absolutely refused to do any ‘sword tricks’ until they’d mostly given him up as a mute. It had been underwhelming.

The only good part of their time in Oxenfurt had been having access to the library. Geralt had never seen so many books, not since the sacking of the keep. But some of these books had nothing to do with anything important. It was odd to read a book of stories and fables without being asked to look for the truths behind them. He could just sit in a chair, in the library, and read as he pleased. It was somewhat like his time with Yennefer. Calm, peaceful, and given to quiet contemplation. Outside of the occasional drama and fuss. His presence had unsettled and upset some of the students and teachers. For others he had been a source of fascination. They had hounded him, trying to seek answers he couldn’t have given them even if he’d wanted to. With his enhanced hearing he had been well aware of how people thought of the ‘dumb albino witcher’ the bard had acquired. As if Geralt was a possession Jaskier could purchase.

This was perhaps why they had purged witchers of emotions. A normal man would be enraged at such treatment. A normal man would perhaps rise to the challenges, show off his skills and mastery, and would as such find himself swinging from the gallows. Geralt was not a normal man, and Geralt had bitten his tongue, and stayed silent, and crushed himself small. He left Oxenfurt with all of his belongings and his limbs firmly attached.

It was frustrating to be around people who didn’t think he had anything to offer other than brute force. While it wasn’t a new experience, he had gotten somewhat accustomed to Yennefer taking his intelligence for granted. She never over explained things or treated him like a simpleton. Overall Jaskier didn’t either, but at times he put Geralt’s teeth on edge. Finally, one night around the campfire he had snapped, “I’m not stupid.”

Fear had automatically swamped him. Or at least a conditioned fear response. He had frozen; eyes wide with horror that he had said anything out loud. No one had asked him his opinion and speaking out of turn was incredibly stupid. Surely now the bard would give in to the urge to cane him, and he would have to take it, rather than risk angry villagers tying him to a stake and burning him alive. Or hanging him after a solid beating. Perhaps they would draw and quarter him instead? No one would allow him to defend himself and let him escape consequences.

“I know you’re not,” Jaskier had frowned.

Geralt had been confused and lost, this was not how the exchange went. He spoke out of turn, and then he got hurt for it. Sometimes, when he knew the punishment was inevitable or just absolutely worth it, he would dig himself into a deeper hole. This was not one of those times, and he’d sat there by the fire, utterly dumbstruck.

“Why would you think I felt you were stupid?” Jaskier pressed, brows furrowing.

“You talk to me as if I haven’t lived more history than you’ve read,” Geralt tells him flatly, hoping that’s the end of the conversation. It’s the truth, at least. And he had been asked to share his reasoning. So he had. There could be no punishment for that, could there? Besides, the bard wasn’t strong enough to truly hurt him, was he? He wasn’t particularly delicate but he wasn’t strong like Vesemir. Or any of the other training masters. He could take whatever abuse the bard wanted to inflict on him.

“I’m sorry, you just don’t speak much, it’s hard to judge. I know you aren’t stupid, Geralt. I’ve never thought that. Not once. Perhaps a little thick about some specific things, but not in general. You’d be long dead if you weren’t incredibly intelligent. It’s just, when you aren’t responding any, I end up making more noise than I need to so that I can fill up the spaces.”

“Like now?”

“Yes,” Jaskier snorts. “Exactly like now. Can you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“Hurting your feelings?”

“Can’t hurt what isn’t there,” Geralt told him affably. “At least now I know why you make so much fuss over everything.”

“What?”

“To fill up the spaces.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad this is what we’ve come to understand. Not that you should talk more,” Jaskier had laughed. “Or that I wouldn’t mind conversation from you. I like when you add your insight. It’s very…”

“Insightful?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jaskier had not known what to think when he had met Geralt. The other man had been nothing like what he’d expected a witcher to be. Geralt had chosen to help people when given the chance, often times for a pittance rather than what he should have been owed. When he heard of a contract but people threw stones at him, he frequently waited until nightfall and would consider taking the monster on regardless. It depended on how dangerous it was, and if he thought perhaps making his way back through later would result in a warmer welcome. He had expected a witcher to be devoid of all feeling, nearly inhuman, and while intelligent, intelligent in a predator way rather than a human way.

The more time he spent around the witcher, the more he learned everything he thought he knew about them was wrong. Or at least this particular one didn’t fit the mold. Geralt rarely discussed much of anything with him, unwilling to be drawn into conversations. He could be coaxed into a sentence here or there but seemed to prefer one word answers, no matter how simple they made him seem.

Jaskier hadn’t even known that Geralt could communicate in full sentences until he heard him negotiate a contract.

“Not enough coin.”

“What? That’s a hundred crowns!”

“For a pack of creatures you can’t even identify? You expect me to go out into the dark with no idea what I’m facing for barely enough coin to purchase a room in an inn and a bath?”

“You’re a damn witcher! It’s what you do! The coin should be a bonus, you murderous beasts were made to kill, so kill damnit! The monsters, not us!”

“I hardly see much difference right now,” Jaskier had interjected idly. He had ignored Geralt’s glare but hadn’t bothered to speak up again.

“I kill monsters for pay. If the pay is too low, I walk.”

“We don’t have more to give you!”

Geralt slapped the contract down on the table. “I can read. Here the offer says two hundred. Not one, but two. Double. So I am telling you, you honor the contract, I bring you the corpse as proof, you pay me, and we pretend none of this happened. I won’t stay on, I’ll move to the next town over and you needn’t see me again. Or, you continue to kick up a fuss, I walk away, perhaps someone you care about dies, and you wish you’d paid the fee you advertised.”

“Fine! You fucking bastard!” The man spat at Geralt’s feet.

“I will take half the coin up front, in case you decide to continue your lying streak. You will have, as collateral, my horse and whatever gear I don’t take with me on the hunt. When I get back, you will give me the other half of my pay, and I will collect my property and go. Are we clear?”

“I won’t shake hands with a mutant such as yourself. But aye, damnit, just as you said it will be.”

“I will be staying behind to watch that the witcher’s things don’t mysteriously vanish while he risks his life for an ungrateful pisspot such as yourself. And before you decide to test me, just remember I am quite famous. And many people are very fond of me across many kingdoms. If you think your life is unpleasant now, I can assuredly make it worse.” Jaskier smiled broadly, using a grin he had learned from one of his history teachers at Oxenfurt whenever a student fell asleep in class. That particular teacher had been rather fond of carrying a small riding crop with him for such occasions.

Geralt had been surprisingly sensitive to the moods of others, and initially Jaskier had chalked it up to his heightened senses and training. With more exposure to the witcher, he found it came out of genuine compassion -even if Geralt would insist it absolutely did not because he felt no such thing. He wasn’t capable of it. Which was utter bullshit. He had seen his friend happily entertaining the village children while the bard booked them a room at the inn. Not everyone approved of letting children near such a ‘vicious monster,’ but once they saw Jaskier with him and unharmed it tended to help. Not to mention the fact Jaskier was absolutely unafraid of touching Geralt, touching his things, drinking from his ale cup, or just in general being a horrific nuisance. The witcher always tolerated him with good grace. He had asked about it once.

“Why must you go out of your way to treat me like a pet?”

Jaskier had been utterly shocked Geralt had bothered to initiate a conversation much less speak in more than monosyllables. It had taken him a few minutes to gather his wits. “Think about it, Geralt. If they see me fussing with your hair in a way that clearly aggravates you and you don’t kill me, what are the odds you will kill their children?”

“Hm.”

As they got more used to each other, Jaskier was more able to read his moods and body language and knew when he wanted to ask a question. While sometimes he truly had no idea what Geralt could possibly want to know, he learned several ways of asking a question that allowed Geralt to respond and also ask his own. Frequently, his questions were about emotions and what it was like to have feelings. Usually more framed as an attempt to understand why Jaskier did things the way he did, and not in terms of himself. After all, as Geralt frequently reminded Jaskier, he had no feelings and couldn’t conceptualize them in terms of himself.

Another thing the bard had learned that he hated was Geralt was almost incapable of asking for help. He also wasn’t entirely aware of his own needs. While Geralt knew he had to eat, he also knew he could go several days without food and so when their packs were low he went without. Jaskier honestly hadn’t noticed, which horrified him in ways he couldn’t explain. He had noticed after they had split apart for a while and reunited in Verden. Geralt had been looking gaunt and moving a little more sluggish than usual and it had taken a ridiculous amount of effort for Jaskier to determine the source of the change.

The witcher had been emaciated and coming upon the brink of starvation. Jaskier had badgered him for hours before they had stopped to make camp and Geralt had stripped out of his armor and shirt. His skin had looked stretched across his bones like he was curing it for leather. The next major town they hit on their way to Brugge, Jaskier had spent exorbitant sums on food and a comfortable room for them to stay in while Geralt recovered. He was also learning that Geralt did not sleep properly often and was truly horrible at taking care of himself because he didn’t see a need to.

The bard had been almost tempted to drag Geralt back to Aedirn and Vengerberg to see if the witch would take him back simply because at least he’d been well fed and clean when he’d lived there.

“Don’t you feel hunger?”

“Yes.”

“So why not eat?”

“No coin.”

“I know you can hunt.”

“Too tired.”

“That’s not it, I know you. You can set snares just fine. Or grub up a tuber or some berries.”

“No good hunting.”

“Ah. You mean you worry the peasants you pass would go hungry if you killed a rabbit they might never catch?” Jaskier looked to the sky as if a voice would answer him in place of Geralt’s taciturn silence. “You have to eat, because you have to keep up your health to kill monsters so you can get more coin. When was the last time you bathed somewhere other than a stream or puddle?” The bard had worked more soap into his hands and carefully started washing more muck out of Geralt’s hair. “You wouldn’t ask Roach to carry you without feed for weeks, or grass to crop. She’d die. You also walk her so she doesn’t get worn out or lamed when you’ve ridden her a long ways. You have to take at least half as good care of yourself as you do the damned horse.” He had been somewhat amused to see the witcher falling asleep, apparently enjoying the sensation of fingers massaging his scalp. However, Jaskier’s tirade was far from finished. “Geralt!”

“Shh,” the witcher had rebuked him, closing his eyes, and leaning into the touch. Jaskier hadn’t had the heart to keep pressing him after that. He had instead watched as Geralt fell asleep in the bath, trusting Jaskier to finish cleaning his hair.

While overall he was fairly sure he was unsuccessful teaching Geralt to take better care of himself, he did notice problems earlier on. It was easier to notice when Geralt’s head started to droop just a bit, and to decide he was simply ‘too tired’ to go on and they needed to make camp or stop and eat before going on. He learned different signs for when Geralt was in pain, and how severe it was, and berated him soundly every time he let a wound fester without proper treatment. Occasionally they’d split apart for a few months only to run into each other again and Jaskier would take up dogging Geralt’s footsteps until the vagaries of fate pulled him away. He was always pleased to note, however, that Geralt never looked as bad as he had in Verden.

After Caingorn they had headed west. No real destination in mind. They were well enough supplied that they could afford to travel at a somewhat leisurely pace. Jaskier continued to pester Geralt and occasionally found himself wishing he hadn’t.

“And what would be so bad about all that?”

“A whipping.”

“Ah.” His voice had dried up in his throat. “But… when you were just children?”

“Discipline.”

“A whipping?”

“Children need discipline,” Geralt had repeated.

“I see. Of course. That… that quite makes sense. Of course. How could I be so silly?”

“What?” he’d demanded, deeply unsettled by Jaskier’s odd jabbering.

“I just, no one ever whipped us. Not that I’m aware of. Sure, a switch, or in the case of one professor a riding crop. But, Geralt. A whip?”

“Hard life,” he’d shrugged.

“I know,” Jaskier had said softly, knowing if he apologized Geralt wouldn’t understand. The gesture would be meaningless. Not unlike how Geralt had long since given up on shaking hands to seal contracts and now when people held their hands out he just stared blankly. Without humanity behind things, without feeling, without veracity, it was meaningless.

“What kind of monsters do you think you’d like to run into?”

“None,” Geralt grunted from Roach’s saddle, looking at him oddly.

“Well, then how will you gain enough coin for a hot meal and a nice bath?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Yes, but you like them. I know you. We’ve been friends long enough that I know what you like. I know your favorite meals, I know you like warm baths. I also happen to know how much you do enjoy a kip on an actual bed in a decent inn. Especially after weeks on the road.”

“Unnecessary,” Geralt argued back, uninterested in talking about this further. Jaskier knew if Geralt had wanted to keep talking he would have expanded the conversation some or tried to make some kind of eye contact rather than just bite off the shortest answers possible.

“If you weren’t a witcher, what would you want to be?”

“Can’t want,” Geralt had reminded him.

“Bullshit. Your body wants food, your mind wants rest, your cock wants sex, you know damn well what wanting is.

“Not very poetic,” Geralt had hummed, still refusing to engage. Then he’d eyed Jaskier slyly. “If not bard, what?” seeming almost pleased with his ability to turn the conversation away from himself.

“Oh, a viscount,” Jaskier said breezily, and laughed when Geralt choked in response. “Yes, I’d be Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove, and I would fall in love with a Duchess and sing songs for her as long as my heart desired.”

“Honest?” Geralt presses, eyeing him oddly and Jaskier knows what he’s really asking.

“You know how to speak in sentences, Geralt. Try it.”

The witcher had snorted at him in disgust, spit on the path and lightly kicked Roach into a faster walk.

“What you’re feeling right now is annoyance!” Jaskier called after him, slipping his lute from his back to his chest so he could walk and play.

Many miles later, Jaskier had slowly convinced Geralt to describe some physical sensations to find out if they matched up to human feelings. He had felt that perhaps if he could draw some parallels it would make Geralt less resistant to being honest with himself. Their conversations were stilted at best, but it fostered a different kind of trust between them, something fragile and new.

“Palms sweat, stomach hurts,” Geralt offered, eyes roving as he tried to think of other symptoms he could register that Jaskier might translate into a feeling. “Headache, sometimes. Nausea?”

“Perhaps spoiled clams?” the bard suggested and then laughed when he saw Geralt huff. “Could be nervous. I know when I’m about to do something I don’t want to do I frequently feel nauseous. Especially when I first started performing. Oh, I would sweat like a pig until I had the audience singing along with me. Or stamping their feet, or just… listening. When I knew they were my audience now, not just a collection of people. Or, when as a boy I knocked over a very expensive vase my mother was fond of. I had to tell her the truth of course, but all the same I wasn’t sure how she would react and my stomach twisted in knots.”

“Did not.”

“Of course not literally, I suppose I could say it like you did, it hurt, I was nauseous. But that’s not very poetic is it? And you seem to think I always have to wax poetical or I’m somehow doing something wrong when I talk. Then you get frustrated I won’t speak plainly for you. So please, Geralt, which would you prefer?”

“Quiet,” the witcher supplies without taking so much as a second to think.

Jaskier knew by now that the little look Geralt gave him out of the corner of his eye was his version of a smile. He still puffed himself up, knowing that was what Geralt wanted. “You asked!” he protests, happy to put on a small show if it will amuse his friend. “You started the conversation! You don’t get to decide to just end it! That’s not how this works! Didn’t they teach you manners at your witcher school?”

“No,” Geralt tells him after a moment’s pause and careful consideration. “Elbows off the table. Please and thank you,” he mimics and Jaskier knows he’s hearing an impression of long dead training masters. Geralt had surprised him many a time with his impersonations. With his enhanced hearing, Geralt was well able to mimic tone and vocal pattern when he felt like it. “Children are to be seen, not heard,” he continues, a small crease between his brows. “Chew with your mouth closed. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

Jaskier isn’t sure if he should smile or not, he can hear the stuffiness in Geralt’s rumbly baritone. The precision of the words spoken in a way Geralt would never say them. He settles on a somewhat bland smile, a little unsettled. “That sounds rather miserable. So you learned table manners, perhaps, but not the very fine rules of conversation.”

Geralt glances at him, and Jaskier hates that he can tell the memories weren’t fond ones or even amusing ones. The witcher lifts a shoulder. “Yen helped some,” he offers.

“I’m sure she did,” Jaskier agrees quietly, rather than make a jibe at the sorceress’ expense. Usually it’s worth it to get Geralt riled up over it, but right now it seems unnecessarily cruel.

“You talk more,” Geralt adds, sensing the bard’s discomfiture and not sure of how to help.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Jaskier smiles. He lightly squeezes Geralt’s shoulder and brushes his cheek before standing up to stretch. “Are you intending to walk us all the way to Poviss?”

“Contract,” Geralt reminds him firmly.

“So we will walk until we find one, and if it takes us until we cross the mountains and hit the coast, then so be it,” Jaskier sighed.

“Alright?”

“Of course, Geralt. Just tired. We’ve been walking for weeks without so much as a barn in sight. You darting awake at every noise in the night makes it a little hard to sleep.” Jaskier feels his heart break when he sees Geralt’s shoulders round. “I wouldn’t change anything about how we travel. At least not you and I. I would do anything I could to make people treat you kindlier. But, Geralt. I am so glad you’re alert and ready to keep us safe against any danger. I hope you know that.”

Geralt just grunted, curling into his bedroll and turning to look up at the stars above them. Hesitant, and more than a little afraid to ask, he glances over at his friend and licks his lips before opening his mouth and shutting it.

“What?”

The witcher shifts uncomfortably in his bedroll. It isn’t allowed. He isn’t some infant, some juvenile simpleton begging for a scrap of kindness and entertainment. He glances around a bit, trying to find some sort of lie but can’t help himself from staring back up at the stars.

“Oh,” Jaskier says quietly, watching Geralt look away and back up at the sky several times, throat and jaw working as he wrestled with himself. “Well, let me curl in closer, so I can point at them while I talk.”

It’s a simple matter to shift their bedrolls so Jaskier can shift his head onto Geralt’s chest, using him as a pillow. “There, that one, the belt, the Hunter. There’s many stories about him across the continent and he has many different names, but you knew that. Perhaps one day I’ll find a story of the Witcher written in the sky, instead. Who knows?” he keeps his voice in the simple cadence he uses for telling stories. “But, for now, we’ll stick to what is. And I will tell you what my mother told me about how the Hunter found himself immortalized among the stars…”

#geraskier #gerlion #yenralt #yenneralt #jaskier x geralt #lil ot3 as a V here #but mostly just the boys #will write more fic in exchange for comments #in case anyone's wondering

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