#i checked tumblr when i was done with the sketch to take a break and i saw crawler drew something similar as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mythicamagic · 3 years

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wow! that's an amazing list. “i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met”

A continuation of other tumblr prompts I’ve made into a fic - here

Hopefully chapter four will be the end lolol this fic has been far longer than I intended it to be.

---

Kagome stared out at passing scenery beyond her window with a glazed look dulling her eyes. Heavy thoughts carried her attention far away from the mundane train ride. She hadn't visited Kyoto in years, and especially not for such a special reason before.

Shippo's voice had sounded so strange on the phone. Mature, but not overly deep, maintaining its playfulness. He'd invited her over for a visit right away.

A 'bing!' noise roused her enough to check her phone- which showed a picture of Natsuki posing with a spear and fresh kill.

Kagome snorted, resting her chin on her knuckles. There were a few things about Natsuki that she was surprised Sesshoumaru hadn't commented on.

Number one; her boyfriend was a demon.

And number two; he was, specifically, an inuyoukai. A mongrel. She imagined Sesshoumaru felt mighty smug to know she'd found a demon of the same species as him to date. Natsuki being of mixed breeding surely made the Daiyouki feel all the more superior.

But Kagome had never cared about such things. She'd loved Inuyasha once, too.

The short version of their 'getting together' just two months prior was that she'd located a demon bar a few years ago and had been dating youkai ever since, using the place as a means to meet them. The relief of finding the secret den of long-forgotten youkai had been unparalleled. Kagome now knew exactly how to locate and see through glamorous thanks to years of experience.

She'd found out through the process of elimination that humans just kind of...weren't enough for her. Kagome needed the youki, the rush- the bite of claws, talons or fangs.

Natsuki was one of many in a long line of potential 'forever' partners, but Kagome had long since stopped expecting marriage down the line. If they lasted, that was fine. If not, that was fine too.

She had resolved never to fall hard for someone again.

Natsuki left Tokyo a few days prior to go on a hunting trip with his pack in a remote location up in the mountains, a monthly tradition.

'Can you skip it this time?' Kagome had asked. 'I'd just...really like it if you could come to Kyoto with me?'

'But I don't know your fox friend.'

'Doesn't matter- he hasn't seen me in 500 years. I would feel so much better if you were there.'

Natsuki looked as though she'd spat in his breakfast. 'Ah, uh-' he ran an awkward hand through his light-brown hair. 'I guess?'

The hesitancy and look in his eyes- begging to be let off the hook- made Kagome force a smile and drop the subject.

She sighed, figuring they'd probably break up soon. There wasn't really anything wrong with their relationship, just a difference in values and priorities.

It seemed to be the norm. No huge fight. No big dramatic breakup. Usually she even stayed friends with her exes.

Sesshoumaru was the outlier in all things.

She made certain not to tell the Daiyoukai of her impending singleness. If he was irritatingly optimistic now- Kagome imagined he'd be a nightmare to shake off if she were available.

But he'd stop if I outright told him to never speak to me again.

Her lips thinned, stomach turning at the mere thought.

For the rest of the journey, she resolved not to think about him. And failed miserably.

----

Shippo had greeted her at the door with an enormous hug the second she'd arrived at his hilltop home. Brilliant red hair had grown longer, swept back into a ponytail. Since his house perched a little further out from most of the houses, he wore no glamour. The pointed ears and foxtails- five of them- Kagome counted, were on full display.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she hugged him back fiercely.

His wife was pleasant, though a little eccentric for a racoon youkai. She'd made a 'welcome' banner and everything for Kagome's arrival.

Three young kits with dark circle markings around their eyes raced around the house- which had crayon drawings sprawled all over the walls at waist-height. Shippo and his wife seemed to have given up on house maintenance, but they were a happy family.

Blue eyes softened as Kagome sat with him in the relative privacy of his art studio. She was so pleased he'd found happiness. As they talked, she bent down- reaching into her bag for her phone to show him some pictures of her workplace- only for it to tip over.

A small bottle of pills rolled out, stopping by his foot.

Kagome paled. She glanced away from his questioning look as he handed them back to her. "Reiki suppression pills?" he asked.

"How'd you know?"

"I've got friends in Tokyo. You're not the only priestess who secretly dates demons," he shrugged, pinning her with a calculating look. "But, it's kind of a shame you feel the need to take them."

Kagome forced a smile, tucking them away, "yeah well- it's because I'm so big and strong," she joked. "I haven't met a demon in Tokyo who could withstand my aura if I really let it out. Taking these is easier. Gives demons the 'flavour' of dating a miko without actually getting burned. It just thins my powers a little."

Shippo nodded in acceptance and swiftly changed topics since it made her uncomfortable. He chattered on about his life, detailing the 500 year gap between when they'd seen each other last. Apparently, after Miroku and Sango had passed, he'd taken to spending more time with Sesshoumaru. When Inuyasha had died, he'd started living with the Daiyoukai permanently.

"You...did?"

He nodded, hands wrapped around his steaming mug of tea. A handmade bracelet clasped around his wrist, and the mug was half-melted, made from clay. Clearly they'd both been crafted by three well-meaning kids. "I guess we were gonna talk about him eventually," he smirked. "I promise not to be biased, okay? Sure, he saved my ass, but you're still my favourite."

Warmth flooded her heart, and Kagome giggled a little despite herself. "You're talking like we're your divorced parents or something," she mused, sobering. Taking a long breath, she stared at her own misshapen mug. "What happened?" she asked quietly. "Why didn't he create a pure-blooded heir?"

Shippo sighed, sweeping a hand through voluminous red hair. "He chased after you pretty much a second after you left through the well. Only he couldn't get through."

Her chest tightened, body stiffening.

"He's told me before though...that regretting what happened wouldn't have been enough, and maybe it was better he didn't stop you. He still felt the same at the time, deep down; that only a pure-blooded heir should take over the Western Lands to ensure he was survived by a long-living heir. He was gonna do it," Shippo muttered. "He was prepared to lay with an inuyoukai to produce an heir, but when the time came he just...couldn't. It frustrated him for a long time."

Kagome took a sip of her lukewarm tea, lips thinning. "He could've taken a mate. It didn't have to be some random woman."

"Heh, yeah but his inuyoukai instincts had already chosen a mate," Shippo winked at her. "And no matter how much he tried to force logic onto himself, his instincts refused to budge. You weren't dead, so in his mind, he couldn't move on. He's remained your captive all this time."

Her eyes widened, swallowing. "That sounds terrible!" she burst, frowning. "What the hell...I'd resent that. Why doesn't he hate me?"

"Hard to explain but...he could have moved on, Kagome," the kit sighed. "If he really wanted to. He's the one who lacked the desire to change how he felt about you. So, despite some relationships, Sesshoumaru has pretty much maintained his bachelor lifestyle."

Kagome stood from her seat, setting down her tea and distractedly looking at Shippo's art pieces, picking up a sketchbook and flipping through it.

Sharp green eyes searched her guarded features. "You're still in love with him, right?"

"Some habits are hard to kick," she said softly, pausing on one sketch. Her vision grew blurry.

Shippo rose and swept the shuddering miko into a hug before she could drop the sketch of Sango and Miroku. He held her for a long time, and they moved on to talking about their friends. About all the things they'd done and the happiness they'd shared.

"M-maybe I...left too quickly," Kagome mumbled, wiping at her wet cheeks.

"Nah, don't get that thought stuck in your head," Shippo rested a hand on her head, gently ruffling the dark strands. "You wanted distance between you and Sesshoumaru. It's not your fault the well shut."

"Why did..." swallowing thickly, she looked up at him, oddly feeling like a child in comparison to his steady, easy-going presence. Like nothing in the world could shock or frighten the little kit anymore. "It took him 6 years to come talk to me, why is that?"

Shippo's smile turned slightly sad. "He wouldn't want me to tell you. In fact, he'd kill me for giving you this-" Shippo reached into his pocket and took out a vial.

Kagome understood what it was almost immediately, accepting the glamour with a perplexed look.

He then scribbled down the name of a random park in Tokyo she hadn't visited before, handing it over with a smirk. "Put that glamour on and visit this park on either Tuesday or Thursday, weather permitting. You'll find him near the duck pond."

She arched a brow, eyeing the vial. "He'll recognise me, even with a glamour on."

"Nah, that's my own creation- and I'm pretty darn brilliant at magic now!" he puffed out his chest, tilting his chin up in a very Sesshoumaru-like manner. Shippo then smiled warmly, taking the sketchbook and tearing out a page. "He's not being honest with you, but it's not outta nefarious purposes. You'll see," he reassured her. "He's changed. Even if he's still an asshole."

Kagome accepted the page, freezing. Her fingers stiffened, emotion clogging her throat at all the implications that came with the picture. She couldn't help but cry again in the safety of Shippo's arms- promptly bursting into tears while on the train ride home too.

Shippo's sketch remained clutched in her hands.

The weight of so much wasted time rested upon her heavily, making the woman bend low in her seat, ignoring the stares of other passengers and letting out several years of loneliness and disappointment. How her skin had ached and burned up with a fever of remembrance- straining for a demon lord to take her wrists and kiss her palms like he once had.

---

Overcast skies blocked out the sunshine that Tuesday, so she wondered if he'd show. The glamour had made her look like a 40-year old, a few grey streaks in her magically short hair. Brown eyes stared back at her instead of blue. She smelled like lavender and home cooking. Kagome sat upon a bench and pretended to read beside the duck pond. An available bench sat further away, nearer to the empty play park.

It was there that a dark-haired man eventually sat, five children having followed him. A lanky teen took a seat next to him, his hair short and grey- eyes milky white with blindness. Kagome squinted from behind her book, sensing he was a snake youkai. Two young hanyous of differing species immediately ran to the play park, squealing. One had concealed horns, the other hiding their leopard spots behind a glamour.

A human girl around the age of 11 carried a toddler to the edge of the duck pond, talking quietly with him and pointing to the ducks.

Kagome held back the hot sting of tears, forcing her gaze to the book in her hands and robotically turning a page.

"Shinto needs to get out of his room," the snake youkai was muttering sourly.

"There is little I can do. Did you wish for me to carry him kicking and screaming to the park with us?" Sesshoumaru snorted, elbows bent to rest on his knees.

Kagome glanced at him furtively from the corner of her eye.

Gone was the easy confidence he'd presented to her during their encounters- the impeccable dress-sense and untouchable air of a bachelor. He looked like a mess. Or rather, a single parent struggling to juggle too much at once. He wore a jacket that had seen better days, hair dishevelled and slight lines under his eyes.

"Maybe that would've been better," his adopted child was muttering, soon sighing and glancing to the side as Sesshoumaru toyed with his phone. "Do you even have her number?"

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, feigning ignorance. "Hm?"

"You know who I am referring to. Just ask for it from Uncle Shippo."

Dark lashes lowered, followed by a rich, silky chuckle that made Kagome's skin warm. "Such underhanded methods, Hiroji," he teased, "no wonder you're not popular with women."

Hazy eyes gazed in his general direction flatly, huffing. "Please refrain from trying to dodge the question. Have you actually asked this 'Kagome' woman out yet?"

"I invited her to coffee."

"Such a cheap date, Papa!" the human girl by the duck pond smiled, carrying her brother back to them. "Couldn't you have invited her ice-skating, or to a fancy restaurant?"

"Or to the park!" one of the Hanyous yelled from the swings.

Sesshoumaru cut his eyes to grey skies fondly, accepting the toddler from his daughter. "The location does not matter. Miss Higurashi is not easily swayed," he uttered, large hands toying with little boots. The toddler giggled, kicking his legs. "Initially, I wished to bury her with gifts, but she would merely see that as an attempt to 'buy' her. No, I sense only a display of humility and regret will soften her opinion of me, however that seems quite impossible."

"Hm? Why's that?" his daughter asked.

"Because I do not wish to use you all as an example of my having 'changed.' It would feel as though you are mere tools for my redemption," brown eyes slid away. "My mindset altered gradually over the centuries. No large thing triggered it. I know of no other way to prove myself other than introducing her to you."

Kagome could tell by the twitching of his fingers and the way he kept brushing them over his jaw absentmindedly that he was itching for a drag of his pipe. She'd wondered if he still occasionally smoked. He must've decided not to around his children.

"Sounds like heavy stuff," the girl hummed, patting his shoulder in consolation. "Can't you just say-" she cleared her throat, voice deepening into a poor imitation of Sesshoumaru's- "Miko, I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met. Fall into my arms~"

Deep brown eyes flattened, and he playfully shoved a hand into her face. "Things are not so easily fixed, Akiko."

"I see. Well, don't worry! If it doesn't work out, we can all go ice-skating instead!"

Sesshoumaru tsked, sinking back into his seat and allowing the toddler to snuggle up on his chest. "How dull. I'd much prefer to go on a date with a beautiful woman than babysit you brats."

Akiko only giggled and whined good-naturedly, calling him a 'meanie' before running off to join the Hanyous on the swings.

Left in silence, the Daiyoukai's brows knitted together, thoughts clearly far away.

Mild concern softened Hiroji's boyish features. "You should try talking to her again," he said quietly, so faintly Kagome could barely hear it.

"Hn, and why is that?"

Shifting, the snake demon glanced sightlessly in Kagome's direction- causing her blood to freeze in her veins. "I suspect she may be more receptive to speaking with you now, that is all. Call it a hunch."

Stiff shoulders slowly relaxed upon realising he wasn't going to expose her. After a few minutes, Kagome rose from her spot and slipped away from the park.

In the comfort of her own apartment, Kagome gazed at the sketch Shippo had given her; Sesshoumaru sleeping without a glamour obscuring his exotic features. Resting on mokomoko, his knees, and the crook of his arm were children, different from the ones at the park, but just as mixed in species.

It implied he'd been adopting them for centuries. What had started with Rin all those years ago- the accidental adoption of his first child, had become a long-enduring habit. And it also gave Kagome the stupid, insidious idea that maybe he wanted hanyou children now. Maybe he wanted them with her.

And that was too dangerous a thought to linger on if she was incorrect.

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Asks

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rc-dragons · 3 years

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@aaxooli gave me permission to tag them in some of my cat!dsmp artwork, which quickly made me realise that i havent posted hardly any of it lmao

so ill go in order of finished pieces, to concept art/sketches, to animations/animatics!

first up is finished works:

"The House Always Wins", featuring Quackity!

"And Icarus Fell", featuring Philza! This is depicting when he lost his wings protecting someone (I believe it was Wilbur) from the explosion at L'manburg

"Allium Glen"; I drew this back when Ranboo was doing a ton of heavy lore and I thought c!ranboo deserved a break from all the angst to ske a nap in a field of his favorite flower.

next is sketches/concept art!

heres captain puffy! super thick, curly fur, with a marbled taby pattern in a honey color. I don't know if ill keep the bell or not, but i do think its quite cute :3

this is ponk's design; after the unfortunate events that transpired between him and sam recently I figured he needed a full design sketched out. I thought tortoiseshell would fit his head thing on his skin well :)

foolish! my friend zibs (@dr.zibs on tiktok) was the one to come up with him having the shark features + the sphinx-like neckpiece, and i sketched out this design with those ideas in mind.

philza! featuring his clothes (that techno, who can be seen in the top right of the screen, totally didnt help him make it, why would he ever do that /s) that help keep his desert-cat build warm up in the tundra.

corrupted!ranboo design! this was an idea zibs and i had came up with, where, somehow, ranboo's enderwalk state became permanent, and he lost much of what he was. this was actually tied into something with karl, the in between, and the other side, but that would take Wayy too long to explain and is rather convoluted lol

1/2-2/3 of the cast of the dsmp has designs, but I only felt comfortable uploading art that had been done by me, so theres plenty of designs that are missing. i really recommend checking zibs out; their art is absolutely incredible and theyre a joy to work with!

next up is animations/animatics!

this was a lipsync practice animation i did with awesam; took i think 2 hours??? i spent a long time fighting w/ the program so idk how much time was actually spent drawing

i also have a very cute video of ranboo + michael, but tumblr wont let me post more than one video in the post. alas 😔

zibs and i mainly work together on animatics, which can all be seen on their tiktok!

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeyedwSS/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeye2W9d/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeyeFULB/

on all of these, i did most/all of the sketching, dr. zibs did all the linework (a godsend, truly), i did all the backgrounds, colors, and lighting, and zibs did all the editing and audio work!

this post got. Long but i think its a pretty nice compilation of my work relating to cat!dsmp stuff!

also one final shoutout to @drzibs (@dr.zibs on tiktok) hey are AWESOME to work with and have incredible ideas and incredible artwork ily

#dream smp #dsmp #art #animation #ranboo #captain puffy #philza #quackity #foolish gamers #ponk #awesamdude #dsmp brainrot

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

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Chapter 11

Guess who's back? Back again. Back three hours late, but back nonetheless. I'd feel more sorry if I was more sorry. This is officially the longest chapter as of now, so, yay. Someone challenged me to not swear for a chapter, and I believe I fulfilled that requirement. I'm just gonna go sleep.

Update: APPARENTLY, TUMBLR DOES THE TRANSFER FORMATTING THING ON LAPTOPS AND I HATE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE RIGHT NOW SO MUCH. I usually do all my editing on my phone, so I knew no such luxury. I have never been more pissed. That is a lie, but my anger is still very genuine.

Chapter 11

“Where were you?”

The younger brother looks up at his senior. “Huh?”

“You were gone all night.” Leonardo leans against the door, crossing his arms. “Don’t look so surprised; I started getting up early to meditate.”

He shrugs in feigned nonchalance, already dreading the ensuing conversation. “Out.”

“And where’s ‘Out’?”

Donnie slides out of his chair, deciding his straining eyes need a break. “Just went to check on Y/N is all.” He rubs them with his arm, quietly noting the sounds of fighting in the dojo were starting to cease as he sits on the couch. His rounds of sparring with Leonardo were finished a little over an hour ago; a part of him is grateful it took him this long to corner him.

This got a raised brow. “You were checking on her for hours?”

He does not look him in the eye. “It’s not impossible.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t that late,” he argues.

“Donnie,” he presses, “you didn’t get home until five in the morning. Where were you?”

He feels his face heat up. “I said.”

Leo leans down to look his brother in the eye. “Final answer?”

He swallows a yawn. “Look, I know it was stupid—”

“I didn’t say it was stupid.”

“No,” he snips, mildly irritable from a lack of sleep. “You implied it.”

The doors to the dojo slide open, the disgruntled look on Raphael’s face all the evidence the other two need to know who won.

Mikey dives onto the couch, sprawling out next to his slightly older brother. “Did you ask yet?”

“I did.” He glances at the disgruntled boy. “Donnie was, apparently, at Y/N’s all night.”

The reaction is immediate.

“Details!” The small victor sits up, leaning forward on his knees in usual attentiveness. “Was she good?”

“What did you—shut up, Mikey.” Raph’s attention snaps back to his tallest brother. “What did you do to her? Did you—”

“Wait, hold on!” Donnie’s face feels uncomfortably hot. “N-Nothing happened!”

“Yeah, sure.” The second eldest rolls his eyes. “You think we fell off the truck yesterday? Who stays with a girl all night in her room without something happening? Nobody,” he cuts him off before he can defend himself.

The youngest’s voice rises over his brother’s before he can continue. “Dude, big picture!” He gestures to his brown-eyed brother. “He got with a girl first! He has valid info or whatever he says and stuff!”

“What are you two even talking about?” He wrings his hands. “Look, nothing happened!”

“Then what were you doing at her house,” Raphael eggs. “You weren’t just sitting there, right?”

“… no.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

He pauses, the two excitable boys waiting on bated breath. “She wanted me to spend the night,” he explains carefully, “because she was having bad nightmares and didn’t want to sleep alone.” He leans back, tossing his hands in the air. “That’s all.”

Silence falls.

“So,” clarifies Raphael, “you spent however many hours in her room, in her bed, and you didn’t make a move?”

“I—look!” The conversation is taking a shift for the worse. “I was trying to be nice! The last thing she needed was me doing whatever you’re insinuating!”

“He has a point,” Michelangelo nods knowingly. “Brownie points are key.”

“When did I say I was doing this for brownie points?”

“Look,” the eldest interjects. “Regardless of whether or not he was doing the ‘smart’ thing—” air quotes, “my bigger concern is that you didn’t bother calling to let us know where you were. You could’ve—Raph, do you have something to say?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you really gonna act like you wouldn’t do the exact same thing if it were you?”

The leader pauses. “Would you like to take this somewhere more private?”

“Sure.” A venomous smile curls Raph’s lips. “Dojo?”

“Bring it.”

As the two leave, Donnie looks back over at Mikey. “Okay,” he sighs, “did I miss something?”

A shrug. “Man," he grins brazenly, "bold of you to assume I follow half of the things you guys say.”

He pulls his T-Phone from his utility belt. “Do you think I did the right thing? Honestly?”

Another shrug. “I dunno.” He looks over his older brother’s shoulder, reading the text on the screen curiously. “Can’t have gone too bad, though, if you two’ve been textin’ all day.

He pushes his head away with his free hand. “It hasn’t been all day,” he corrects. “She just filled me in on this week’s episode and we just kept talking after that.” He smiles faintly. “Although, she did check to see if I got home alright.”

“Hey, that’s totally progress!” He grins encouragingly. “I mean, the bed thing was bigger progress, but this is also progress.”

You push through the turnstile with a bit of difficulty, hopping on your good leg as you pull the walker over the divider using your free hand with an embarrassing clatter. “Sorry,” you wince, feeling your face heat up as you slide down the railing. “I’m still getting used to—”

“Holy—are you alright?” The distress is apparent in the youngest’s voice as he sees you for the first time in a month. “You look like you—”

“I’m aware,” you cut him off dryly, holding a paper bag as you stumble over to the couch. “Whatever you’re about to say, I’m aware.” You put it down in Donnie’s lap. “Here.”

He blinks, picking it up as you regain your bearings. “What is it?”

“Not poison or snakes. Open it.”

“Yo,” Mikey interrupts, pointing at your banged-up leg, “can I draw on your white thing?”

It takes you a second to figure out what he is referring to. “Oh, you mean—yeah.” You lean your head back against the back of the couch. “Just know that I’ll take white-out to anything that could get me kicked out of school.”

“Deal!” He runs off to your room as his brother pulls the bag open, pulling the pastry from its confinement.

“What is it,” he repeats, icing already on his fingers.

“Cupcake.”

He fingers the wrapper, his brick stare seeming almost to dissect it. “What is it for?”

“Besides being messy?” You smile gently as you watch him try to figure it out, feeling your heart swell. “It’s food.”

“How much of it is edible?”

“Everything except the paper bit.”

He peels the liner back. “And how do you eat it, exactly?”

You lean forward on your arms. “The goal is to eat the frosting and the cake part at the same time, so however you accomplish that.”

He smiles sheepishly, eyes softening as he looks back at you. “Is it possible to eat it without the frosting getting on your face?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

He tentatively holds eye contact with you as he takes a bite, unsurprisingly getting icing sticking to the space around his upper lip. You wait tentatively as he licks the excess off, blinking in delighted surprise. “What’s in this, exactly?”

You feel yourself beam at his tone. “It’s nothing too special,” you shrug nonchalantly, bubbling with excitement. “It’s a personal favorite; red velvet with cream cheese frosting.”

He takes another bite. “Do you have more? Follow-up question,” you note his speech quickening, “can you make more?”

“Totally,” you nod in agreement. “I wanted to make you something as thanks for—”

“Back!”

Donnie shoves the rest of it in his mouth as soon as you two hear him.

“Sorry for the wait; I couldn’t find my stuff.” He plops down with a cardboard box filled with various discarded art supplies. “I’d use spray paint, but he—” he nods to his brother, currently trying to choke the rest of the cupcake down—“said I’m not allowed because of fumes or somethin’, so.”

“Fair.” You allow him to drape your calf over his legs, digging into the cardboard box he was carrying and pulling out a pencil. “Got any plans?”

“You’ll see,” he grins, starting to sketch shapes out.

The taller of the two wipes the excess frosting off his fingers. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers, “when you two are done with that, Y/N, I still gotta do that physical.”

“Physical?”

He clears his throat in preparation for a very redundant explanation. “A physical,” he explains calmly to his over-excited brother, “as in a physical examination, not whatever you’re thinking of.”

He blinks. “Like a doctor’s visit?”

“Donnie was asking about my recovery time,” you add helpfully. “Apparently, it’s weirdly long, but I don’t have any weird medical problems, so he wanted to see what the deal was.”

“That, and your comment about how ‘insanely high’ we jump, apparently.”

“Do not air quote that!” You lean your head back to look at him, hair falling onto his lap. “Not when you guys put high jumping to shame.”

He adamantly avoids eye contact, face warming. “It’s not that high,” he mumbles. “Especially if we’re bringing a sport like high jumping into this.”

“I respectfully disagree.” You lay your head down properly, looking up at him from his thighs. “Considering your falling form, it is a miracle you still have working hips.”

“What’s wrong with my form?”

“It doesn’t include a parachute.”

“Okay,” Mikey interjects, “it may not last unless you cover it with something. Just, FYI.”

You lean your head up to look at him. “Noted,” you nod. “I’ll pick up varnish or something on my way home.”

He nods. “Oh,” he asks innocently, “mind turning over? I have to get the other side and I don’t want to hurt you.”

For some inexplicable reason, the boy you are currently laying on looks as though someone has put a gun to his head.

You do as asked with a bit of difficulty, bringing your knee closer to your chest as it is now closest to the back of the couch. “Like that?”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

You look up at Donnie. “Let me know if you need me to move,” you smile. “If your thighs go numb or anything.”

His voice is oddly tight. “You’re good.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Sure? You sound very uncomfortable.”

“Never better.”

“He’s alright,” Mikey reassures you, shooting a thumbs up at his brother behind your back.

“...Alright.” Your eyes focus absentmindedly on what you thought was a couch cushion; upon further inspection, it appears to be a repurposed training mat. You bring the arm not currently pinned to your side under your head, humming an earworm softly.

The boy currently under you is silently panicking as your fingers squeeze gently around his knee, making a conscious effort to stare at the television and only at the television with his hands hovering awkwardly over you. Surprisingly enough, out of the corner of his eye, he does not catch his younger brother trying to stare at you weirdly, sincerely focused on drawing.

You feel him, eventually, resting his hands down, one resting in between your shoulder blades, the other in your hair, twisting a lock of it around his fingers gently. “Still alright,” you ask.

His voice is almost airy, now. “Mhm.”

‘This is nice.’ You trace little designs into the mat as your mind begins to wander, the boys starting to talk about something you struggle to pay attention to. This is not the closest you have been to him physically, but it is nice not to be crying this time around. "Domestic, almost, even if he doesn't think so.’

‘I should learn how to braid.’ Braiding is not something he has necessarily needed to know how to do in the past, but as he wraps the fibers around themselves, curious about the texture, he wishes that he knew; using your hair as a material of sorts would certainly be interesting, and he knows he has the dexterity for it. Admittedly, the conversation is less of a conversation and more of a speech on his brother’s part, but he tries to pay attention.

“So,” Mikey continues, digging into the box and pulling out a pencil sharpener, “he’s watching this guy all stealth-like, right? The guy’s out here, giving out his plans like they’re candy or whatever, and he’s just kinda recording it on one of those little tape recorders you used for that one thing a couple weeks ago-- you know the ones, and-- you don’t mind spoilers-- long story short, the guy gets caught, and when the crew got there, he was totally messed up.”

“Sounds like Batman,” you mumble sleepily-- ‘He really is warm.’

“Huh?”

“Your story.” You hoist yourself up, looking over your shoulder back at him. “Sounds like this Batman cartoon.”

“Batman?”

“Universe…” you stifle a yawn. “My universe has this thing called Batman, and there's a crossover thing in a different iteration of this universe. I guess you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

“Different iteration?” Donatello looks down at your head in his lap, desperately in need of a cold shower.

You feel Michelangelo bend your leg forward. You nod in confirmation, trying to will yourself awake. “Didn’t I… did I?” You lay your head back down properly. “You guys are, like… mega-famous down-- back-- there.”

“I’m not sure if you did.”

“Well,” you giggle sleepily, “you are.” You try to count on your fingers. “You’ve got the original comic, the old cartoon, the two-thousand three animated show, the CGI movie, this one, the two live-action movies, the twenty-eighteen animated one-- gorgeous animation by the by that I have to show you later, Mikey-- that crossover movie with Batman, the live-action show, the other, older live-action movie, the IDW comic series, that weird one with the hats-- there’s a ton.”

“Dude, that is sick!” The resident artist grins. “I bet they were awesome.”

You consider telling him about the IDW comic. You quickly decide against it.

“How long have we-- as a property-- existed, exactly?”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “The first animated show was the eighties, I think.”

“...huh.”

You notice him fiddling with your hair, finally. You don’t mind.

“It’s been too long.”

You freeze, suddenly very awake and painfully aware of your current position.

One of the few good things about having your own apartment: you seem to have forgotten the fear of being walked in on.

“Please, relax.” You hear his smile. It does not help matters. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

The other two, astonishingly, do not seem nearly as anxious as you are.

You look up at him from your spot on his son’s lap. “You look as healthy as ever.” ‘I miss my grandpa. Is Grandma okay?’ You were unable to find your relatives on your father’s side through social media-- they could be dead for all you know.

“No thanks to my diet,” he chuckles. Yoshi walks out of your field of view. “Don’t mind me; how long have they been in the dojo?”

“Half an hour?” You hear the jostling of the box and the snap of an uncapped pen.

You hear him sigh. “Let’s just hope nobody’s died,” he mutters, walking into the dojo.

The three of you strain your ears to-- unsuccessfully-- hear what is going on. The door snaps open as the two brothers leave together in heated silence.

Mikey shakes what you can now identify as a paint pen. “Who won?”

“Nobody.” Leo’s voice, snippy. “Is she out?”

“She is not.” You turn your arm awkwardly to wave back at him.

“Then,” he shrugs, “nice to see you.”

“Likewise.”

“So,” Raph interjects, apparently very interested in the current situation, “can someone please explain what, exactly, is going on here?”

“I’m painting her white thing.”

“Of course. Donnie?”

The mortification would be apparent if you were looking at him.

“Nothin? Okay then.” You shut your eyes as he sits down on the other side of you. “You look terrible. Nice scar.”

“I am too close to very sensitive areas for you to give me a hard time, Raphael,” you warn.

“Whatever.”

“I’m heading out.” Leo nonchalantly bounds the steps, hopping over a divider.

“Tell her I say hi,” you call back. “Remember, consent is key, yellow roses lead to friendzoning, and to always use a condom.”

“... No comment.” He runs off.

“I have so many questions.”

“Ask me later.”

It takes him about twenty more minutes to finish covering the entirety of your cast in brightly colored characters and objects; if you have to describe it, you will say that the style is contemporary pop illustration with composition reminiscent of the renaissance period if the single art class you have taken is serving you right.

“This,” you smile, a little misty-eyed for some reason, “is absolutely gorgeous. Thanks, Mikey.”

He beams. “You’re totally welcome! If you ever get more white things, I’ll draw on those too, if you want.”

“Dude, for sure.” You nod in agreement, looking back at Donnie. “Isn’t it cool?”

Donatello has been quietly jabbed at for the past twenty minutes and is mostly desensitized to the quality of his brother’s art; frankly, it is not his area, and he cannot judge it one way or the other. Despite this, he gives his brother a thumbs up. “Very.”

“Don’t stroke his ego so much,” teases their older brother. “Donnie’ll get jealous.”

“Hate to steal her from you all,” he interrupts, “but I still have a physical to do, so if you would be so kind as to shut up, that would be great.”

‘Green with envy. Is that racist? No clue. Pretty colors.’ Donnie is talking to you. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were still on board.”

You nod. “Mind grabbing my walker?”

He shoots his snickering brother a glare. “Want me to just carry you to the lab?”

Panic. Immediate panic. “You sure you can carry me?”

He shrugs, smiling. “It’s only a few feet. Besides,” he points out, “aren’t you the one always going on about how strong we are by normal standards?”

You do not have a rational way to explain why the idea of being off of solid ground, held up by someone who can potentially drop you, is distressing. You also do not want to insult him in any shape, way, or form. “Promise you won’t drop me?” Your stomach turns.

“Swear it.”

“Can I paint your walker while you guys are doing that?”

“Of all the things you could've chosen--”

“Lay off.” He offers his arms. “You can trust me, I promise.”

You pause. The statement is entirely true, but your gut is screaming at you not to do that. The same gut told you that slamming your body into the person driving the car you were tied up in was a good idea.

You latch your arms around his neck, burying your eyes in the crook of his neck as to not see when and in what direction he is moving you. “Please,” you mumble, trying not to blatantly beg, “do not drop me.”

He does not exactly understand why you are clinging to him so tightly, but he is hardly one to complain. He slides an arm under your knees, picking you up.

Raphael is heckling you. You are more concerned with your body inaccurately telling you that you are going to die from this. Tears prick your eyes as you try to breathe.

He looks down at you, mind wandering as he walks away from his brothers. You look so sweet to him, shaking like a leaf in his arms. Cute. He had thought the same thing when you had started clinging to him during that movie forever ago, when you held his hand last night and pulled him back onto the bed with you. You are not normally openly vulnerable and, although he is hardly one to talk about vulnerability, it is always a sight to behold.

“Please don’t drop me.” He is not exactly sure if you are aware of your own, almost silent begging as you repeat the phrase over and over. ‘You trust me.’ His heart melts.

It takes no time to get you to his lab. He sets you down on a chair, but you do not seem to understand that as you still cling tightly to his neck.

He chuckles nervously. “I need my body to perform the physical, Y/N.”

You were not aware he had put you down. Your eyes snap open as you let your shaking, iron grip relax. “Sorry,” you mumble, face going a gorgeous shade of pink.

“No prob.” ‘Prob?’ His face changes color to match yours.

“So.” He claps his hands together just a bit too hard, slamming the door closed when he hears his brothers’ snickering. “Let’s get started.”

You sit on your couch, applying another coat of varnish to your cast as you listen to a cooking show because something something exposure therapy. Also, listening to people scream at one another about food textures is soothing.

Your results were not surprising to you; by the standards of humans in this universe, you are a walking talking coma patient. It was a bit funny, watching him freak out about a blood pressure that you knew-- through the help of google-- was completely normal. You are fine for the most part, if he was using the tools given correctly, and so, you are currently preoccupied with making sure the gorgeous painting on your fiberglass prison is going to stay gorgeous. The only thing he had insisted on, really, was that you not cook, after seeing your crudely applied bandages on your fingers.

You lean back into an actual couch, pulling out your phone and scrolling through pictures of gloves again. You are determined to find a good pair; the deep scars on your hands are not fading any time soon.

You can hear the window slide open. “If you’re planning on killing me--” you stop when you look up to see the look on Donnie’s face. “Something up?”

He says absolutely nothing, leaning his staff against the wall, closing the window in a daze and he stands next to the sofa. “Are you busy?”

“No.”

“Good.” His eyes glance at the space next to you. “Can I stay here for a bit?”

“As long as you like.”

He lays his head on your lap as he sits down, staring blankly at the television screen. He immediately understands why you like this-- your thighs are incredibly soft.

You immediately understand why he was awkward. You have no idea where to put your hands, but you eventually settle on his head as you turn the volume down. “What’s up?”

He takes a deep breath, licking his teeth as he sighs. “I,” he explains, “just realized what my reality is right now and I-- okay, I know this sounds stupid--”

“Not at all.”

“It does,” he insists. “I know it sounds stupid because I realized it did when I was working it out, but I just-- hear me out, okay?” His voice oozes exhaustion.

“I’m hearing you.” You listen to him, laying your phone face down on the coffee table. “Hit me.”

He takes another breath. “I just fought a giant… thing.” He rolls over, looking up at you. “Mikey called it Jacob or something, and it was about twenty feet tall and it looked like something out of a monster movie and it destroyed us in a fight.” You hear his voice rising, and you just nod along, letting him talk. “It wiped the floor with us. And the only reason it existed was that Leo, apparently, got a girlfriend named Karai-- you know her?”

“Hot alt chick with the wicked eyeshadow and eyeliner that could kill?” You nod. “Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“Her-- wait, should I…?” He trails off, shakes his head. “Another time.” He covers the side of his face with his hand, gesturing animatedly with his other. “Anyways, apparently he met this girl because she wanted to do a heist with him-- this girl, working for the Foot, of all people-- sixteen or whatever-- she goes and just touches a button to mix the DNAs of all the creatures an alien race could find on Earth, and then bails.” He realizes he is shouting, lowers his voice. “The alien creatures, in case you forgot, that look like brains and waddle around on tentacles which, by the way, makes no evolutionary sense whatsoever, decided to create a button that mixes the entirety of their samples of DNA together in a smorgasbord of wrong, okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nod along. You know what he means, even if the word he used was technically not correct.

“This thing,” he continues, officially ranting, “destroyed a building! It set the whole thing on fire, which was probably only Kraang, but also maybe had normal people in it, which is concerning.” He rubs his eyes aggressively. “So, to recap, an alienish creature named Jason or whatever got created by Leo’s crush and destroyed a building and that was just what happened today!” He raises his hands in the air, almost accidentally hitting you in the face. “I didn’t bat an eye at this!”

“Man, I feel you.”

“And I understand,” he continues, “the irony of telling you this, considering I am a giant, talking turtle created by the very same mutagen that created Justin or whatever its stupid name was, was taught ninjutsu by my ninja master father who is also a rat, and that you have already previously died--”

“All very bizarre things,” you agree.

“-- but this is just…” he sighs. “My life is getting so… weird? It was already weird, I know, but more so than I thought it reasonably should be.”

You wipe a bit of oil you notice on his cheek off with your thumb. “This world is a weird one,” you admit.

His voice is lower now as he follows your hand with his eyes. “I…” He takes breath. “I just wish we were more normal, you know? That our lives were more normal, that our existences made more sense, you know?”

You cup his face in your hand gently, remembering how your mother used to do the same for you. “I do.”

You feel him leaning into your touch. “I wish,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “that I was a normal, human teenager who went to school and didn’t know how to use a bo staff and had three, normal brothers who could try to get girlfriends without worrying about whether or not they wanted to kill them.”

You sigh, running your thumbs along the edge of his eye socket, feeling the soft skin shift under you. “You’re very well adjusted for a teenager trained in the art of assassination,” you joke softly.

He chuckles dryly, closing his eyes. “My mother is an empty canister in a locked cabinet in the kitchen.” He exhales slowly. “My stepmom was murdered by a man now actively trying to murder me and my entire family because of a decades long feud. Well adjusted is probably the highest compliment you could give me.”

“I’ve given you higher.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” You glance up at the television screen, then back at him. “You’re holding up better than I am, and you’ve been fearing for your life since you were real little.”

“Apples and oranges.” He rests his hand on yours.

“Look,” you shrug, “the way I see it, life is a series of events that all string together to the present.”

“Butterfly effect.”

“Exactly.” You smile down at him. “And if things didn’t happen exactly as they did, we never would’ve met, the world would be totally screwed, and we would be missing out on one of the greatest minds on the planet.”

He looks to see if you are being serious.

You are.

“You also wouldn’t have a broken leg and messed up hands,” he points out ruefully.

“Meeting you was worth it.”

He reaches up, running his fingers along the scar on your face. “I disagree.”

“It’s my body, and my physical detriment. It doesn’t matter if you’re stupid enough to think it wasn’t worth it.”

You feel his body relax

You two shut up for a bit, watching the show absentmindedly.

After a while, he pipes up. “It’s alright if you say no,” he starts tentatively, “but is it alright if I stay here again tonight?”

“Will your brothers mind?”

“They don’t care so long as I’m home before sunrise,” he shrugs. “I just like it here. Smells better.”

You smile brightly. “Sure,” you agree easily. “I sleep better with you here, anyways; I don’t worry about people sneaking in through the window.” You check the varnish. “I just have to wait for this to dry the rest of the way, first. You’re free to go to bed without me, though.”

In all honesty, you’re just happy not to be alone.

He nods, standing up and drawing the curtains. He sits down on the bed, untying the mask behind his head. ‘I could get used to this.’ He smiles slightly, slipping a hand into his utility belt and texting his brothers where he was to avoid his brother’s scolding in the morning. He slips that off too, dropping both onto the side of the bed and starting on the wraps on his feet and hands; he had learned his lesson when he had gotten up morning before, having gotten a few hours sleep at home, to large, noticeable indentations in his flesh where the foreign objects had been.

You glance over. “Do those go in the wash?”

He looks back. “Not usually, no.”

“Do you want me to wash them?”

‘You are too considerate.’ He shakes his head. “It’s alright.”

You shrug, putting your hands up. “Suit yourself.” You cross your hands across your stomach, staring absentmindedly back at the screen. “You can use the shower in the morning, but please do not use all of the hot water. Fridge is open if you need breakfast.”

“Nah,” he sighs, slipping the clothes into his utility belt. “I’ll eat at home.”

You nod in acknowledgement.

It occurs to him as he sets his knee and elbow pads with the rest of his things that, technically, he is stripping in front of you, and you are not batting an eye. As soon as that clocks, it also dawns on him that you are showing the most skin he has ever seen-- an A-shirt and gym shorts-- which had not even registered until he was laying in your bed. You are relaxed and in your warm apartment, watching a television program with him in your bed. You are awake and absolutely gorgeous and you feel safer with him of all people.

His heart swells as he slides under the blankets, the sound of the television white noise at this point.

You glance back at him, the phrase “Snug as a bug in a rug," coming to mind as you look over at him, struggling to keep his eyes open. “You gonna fall asleep?”

His face warms. He nods. "It's been a really long day," he admits.

“Then goodnight,” you smile. “Sweet dreams.”

He smiles sleepily. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he shuts his eyes.

You swallow.

You forgot how much you missed this.

Table of Contents

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

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genaleah · 3 years

Text

ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS

For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.

Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!

Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.

OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible.

A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that.

I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:

https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw

I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.

DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually.

I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!

N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done.

And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:

Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor

Manny: Death, Justice, The World

Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength

Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker

Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess? 🤔 I’ll decide when I get to it.

Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.

Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.

Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.

YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST

Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc. It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.

SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)

Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.

Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere. Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.

The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.

And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:

---

(Poor Strong Sad)

I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.

Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.

Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.

Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...

The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.

Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.

Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.

Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.

I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:

REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU

Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.

My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.

But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with.

ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD

There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.

Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:

If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite.

Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join:

Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.

Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.

NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.

Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)

The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!

Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.

Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.

Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:

We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.

We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.

#wildcard au #wildcard hcs

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floralcalaveraa · 3 years

Text

hello my friends :-)

to make a long story short: im back from my hiatus (?) but taking a month long break off of tumblr for no reason other than to try out the experience, made me learn some things- ( aka this post is going to detail what i’ve been up to and what’s going to happen ) tw: mentions of unhealthy habits, but how I’m going to overcome them

note: you can just read the bolded text and you’re good to go-

I’ve been watching lots of Adventure Time recently and I feel inspired. For those that don’t know what it is, it’s basically a boy and his dog friend that go to a shit-ton of adventures and the episodes get crazy and nonsensical but that’s the charm of it. In it’s chaotic good energy, there is actually lots of lore in it -- different kingdoms, species, items that give the user powers. I’m mentioning this because ... I wouldn’t mind if you have lore that isn’t canon to pokemon. I think it’s a given that everyone is super friendly with headcanons, but seriously, give me the whole thing and don’t hold back! Your muse has made a love potion and you want to try it out? Go for it! I don’t care how unrealistic it is. All that I will ask is that you give me a heads up before hand so that I can go with Your agenda :-)

I have rekindled with another hobby that I might dedicate to more than roleplaying. In my time away, I’ve been drawing the most I could, and today, I find myself believing that I have developed significantly (a new art style that I’m growing fond of). I’m able to portray my ideas easier and have become more quicker with the sketching process (Before, it would take me the whole day to come up with a sketch, now, it takes me about 20 minutes) And more. Right now, I’m content with my progress and how I’m going at it ♡ What fucks me up is how rping on tumblr has prevented me from doing That. I spent so much hours on Tumblr ... a whole day on Tumblr, just sitting and staring at dash feed for the past many months- Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with anyone having a habit for rping, but when it gets me idle for most of the time that I log on, it’s embarrassing how much time I have wasted doing that. Waking up, sitting and staring at a screen, maybe getting one message done if you’re lucky, stare at the dash again, and then by then it’s already time for bed. And the cycle repeats tomorrow. It’s been like that for me, for months, a year, and I don’t want to encourage that anymore.

So here’s what I’m going to do: I’m making roleplaying low-maintenance. I’m no longer going to check it daily. I won’t be seeking for new interactions ... but I will always welcome and do my best to reply to newcomers. I will begin to prioritize my close friends and grow our muses interactions. I guess I’m selective now, but not in the sense of ‘aesthetics’ or if you write like a songwriter- rather, if your interested in being friends with me. There are those that I have yet to befriend and I will work on that too :-)

if you’ve been roleplaying with me and you’re unsure if we’re friends yet: chances are i will still love to interact and get to know you better :-)

if you have my discord: you're good :-) im just slipping up and i got to do better OTL

#‘ NOT HIGH BUT I'M YOUR HIGHNESS ( OOC )#tw: mentions of unhealthy habits #IM SORRY IF ITS LONG ;; but-#cheat code: just look at the bolded text and you're good to go hehe #if you have my discord: you're good :-) im just slipping up and i got to do better-#if you've been rping with me and you're unsure if we're friends yet: chances are i will still love to interact and get to know you :-)

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alexzalben · 3 years

Note

What do you think of all the backlash the last Riverdale episode received? I’ve never seen the writers speak out like this before on all the hate.

This is a pretty complicated topic that I probably can’t do justice with one Tumblr ask, but I’ll try to address some of the broad strokes ideas here. And hang tight, because this is gonna go long.

First of all, a caveat: I have by no means read through every comment the writers were responding to, nor do I know what they discussed or how they’re feeling about things, nor do I speak for them in any way.

However, I do think one of the joys and downfalls of making TV in the social media era is the accessibility of the creative team to fans. Joys because it opens up new ways of understanding how a show is made, demystifying the process, which is always a good thing. Downfalls because to some fans - not all fans, by any means - it makes them feel like they have a say in what happens in the show.

On the latter, it’s not to say that the writers aren’t listening, on many series they’re well aware of what fans think about their show, the plots, the ships, etc. Sometimes they’ll even shift where they’re going based on fan feedback. Nikki and Paolo on Lost are the example I always go to, where they were introduced to show the outside perspective of what other survivors were doing while Jack and his gang were going on adventures... And everybody HATED THEM. So much so that plans changed and they were literally buried alive on the show by the end of the season, in a very unsubtle metaphor.

That said, there’s a difference between what I perceive to be the tone around Nikki and Paolo, which mind you was pre-Twitter days, and what some shows have to deal with now: one is constructive criticism presented as “hey we don’t like this”; the latter sometimes veers into “you suck and you should kill yourself.”

I want to emphasize again: this is not everyone. Usually there is a small section of any group of people that delves into hyper-negativity, and they always get an outsized focus to the number of people who actually do that. Again, example here, but for a while I was part of a pretty popular online sketch comedy group. We got tons of views, tons of comments, I’d estimate 95-99% of those comments were great. Did I internalize those? Of course not. I internalized the one comment out of 100 that told me what a shitty writer I was. That’s the one that rolled around in my head all night, because it seeped into the fear that most writers have that they do suck and will never be successful, at any level. It’s Imposter Syndrome, plain and simple, and it affects everyone no matter how famous (or not) they are.

Reason I mention that is it’s entirely possible that 99% of the comments to the writers of Riverdale this episode were mostly fine, but if 1% of them were of the “fucking kill yourself” variety, that hurts, a lot. It’s not on everyone, by any means, but that pulls the focus, and it’s horrifying every time no matter how often it happens (and believe me, it happens far too often).

Specifically with Riverdale, there are another few factors that are exacerbating this. One is, and I don’t want to diminish this: the pandemic. We’re a year in and people are crumbling mentally. Nothing has been “normal” for a year, that impacts every single aspect of your life, and some things are easier to lash out at than others, like a TV show. If a deadly virus is causing inconsistency? Not much you can do about that. If your fave TV show is shaking up the broadcast schedule and changing your favorite couples? Complain to the writers, the directors, the actors, etc.

The other is the arc of this season so far, which I do think is driving people fucking nuts. This again gets back to the pandemic, but ending with episode 19, waiting months, and then coming back for a premiere that is actually the third to the last episode of the season? That’s unsettling. It throws you off kilter, because it’s not the right rhythm. I know this sounds a little silly, but it’s actually very important: stories have a rhythm to them, and a lot of TV shows in particular have had that rhythm broken. Riverdale had three episodes that were all essentially climax, then upended the show with a time jump, and has continued to mix things around almost every episode. And then it’ll be going into another three month break.

This is definitely the point where someone says “mix things around? they’re doing the same couples they always did.” Sure, theoretical person. But having sifted through fan comments and tweets over the past couple of weeks, every single week one section of the fanbase has been 100% sure it is their ship’s time to shine, and the next they’re being told it’s done forever, and then the next they’re back on, then the next they’re done... It’s an emotional rollercoaster ride, and that’s how the writers designed it, and it’s frankly not over yet. But add in that pandemic uncertainty above, and you have a recipe for people panicking.

Also, and again, this is a small section of any fanbase, but it’s very clear that because of this hyped up panic, some people are being absolutely terrible assholes to other fans. I know I don’t usually curse this much, but the amount of gloating I’ve seen from people on all sides, back and forth, is super gross. Personally, if someone is sobbing for whatever reason, my reaction has never been to quote tweet them with “you lost, get over it” and a peace sign emoji. It sucks when people are sad, and we have a moral obligation to make sure other people feel okay. Don’t know if you’ve ever heard this one, but “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Sort of an important life rule.

Overall, I think a fanbase is stronger is they support each other rather than engaging in ship wars, and I do think there’s a lot of people who do do that. Or just express their displeasure, without attacking people. But there are some people who do, and that’s overall making the whole tone of the discussion that much worse.

So what’s the solution here? I always emphasize to my writers that it’s okay to have a negative take as long as you provide something constructive about a way out of the situation, and I’ll apply that both to the Riverdale fanbase, as well as this extremely long Tumblr ask.

There are three things I’d suggest, and both of them are on you. By “you” I mean the general you, and the reason I suggest them, versus what the writers and creators of Riverdale can do is that “you” are the thing you can control and change.

The first is changing the tone of the discussion. Realize that there are people deeply, emotionally impacted in different ways by this TV show. Allow that they may be having different emotional reactions than you, and give them the space and the support to work through it. If you’re a Varchie fan, it actually makes you a better fan to check on a Barchie fan and see if they’re okay. If you’re a Barchie fan, it’s okay to be happy for a Varchie fan and sad at the same time. Mainly because none of you had anything to do with it. This isn’t even a case where you wore your lucky socks and your fave team won the game. The writers are writing what they wrote, and you are a passive observer, not involved other than the involvement you bring to it. So if everyone supports each other regardless of the circumstances, that will improve things overall.

The second? Disengage. Take a break. Stop watching the show. You have no obligation to tweet, or go on any other social media outlet for this series, nor do you have to keep watching the show if it hurts you. In fact, taking a show break if you feel too involved is a very good thing. Check out, clear your head and come back much later and look at it with fresh eyes.

Third? Think before you comment. It took me a long time to get here with this one, and I’m still working on it, but before you comment: pause, read it over again, and think “is this something I really want to send?” You do get that rush of taking whatever anger you’re feeling and getting it out of your body and mind, but ultimately it’s usually more damaging than either waiting, posting something a little more thoughtful, or not posting at all. It’s really thinking about what you’re adding to the conversation, and what you’re hoping to get back.

So there you go. Lots of thoughts there, and I’m sure there’s lots more to say. This is only my outside perspective on this, and I hope it’s helpful at least in some small way. And if not, that is cool, too!

#Riverdale

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falloutsketchysecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Sketchy Secret Santa: THE HOLIDAY PROMPT!

Friends, fans, and followers-- it’s finally here! The time you’ve all been waiting for! The anon function is off, the request window is OPEN, and the prompt is HERE!

For those who have never participated in a Sketchy event before, let me break it down for you. Sketchy Secret Santa is a Fallout Fandom Event where you send in a sketch request to our group of volunteer artists to whip up a nifty gifty for someone else as an anonymous surprise! If you’d like more information, here’s a link to our info post.

And now, let’s get into the meat of THIS post. How to send a Valid Request, the Do’s and Don’ts, the Prompt List itself, and What to expect after you send a request in!

[Read more to keep dashboards clean]

To Send a Valid Sketchy Secret Santa Request, Please Send an Ask Including The Following:

WHOM the request is for. ---- At current, we are only making requests for people on Tumblr. We’ll need their username so we can @ tag them with the finished work when it’s posted.

The character[s] you’d like sketched up ---- All characters welcome! Canon, OC’s, everyone is fair game so long as it’s Fallout! ---- MAXIMUM FOUR CHARACTERS PER REQUEST. Our artists are working on a volunteer basis, and more figures means more time. ---- Is a request intended to be shippy? Let us know! We don’t read minds. ---- Poly? Found family? Hell yes! Just make sure to let us know the relationship context for the request. All genders and sexualities welcome, so long as everyone is a consenting adult.

1 [ONE!] Item from the prompt list below ---- The prompt list is both to give the artists direction and to limit the scope of what can be requested, keeping things manageable. ---- The items on the prompt list can be considered INSPIRATION, and what is drawn is up to artist interpretation of that prompt. ---- Do not dictate specific poses, colors, or situations. These are freebies, not commissions. All specifics are up to the volunteer artist who takes your request. ---- Do not dictate a specific artist to fulfill your request. Artists are operating on a self-directed basis and are, again, volunteers providing freebies to spread holiday joy. If you want work from a specific artist, might I suggest checking their commission status?

[OPTIONALLY!!] Tell us what holiday traditions the requested characters keep. ---- While there are various holidays on the prompt list, those are general AF prompts. Telling us what holidays an OC celebrates, or what holidays you HC a canon character to celebrate is additional character context and EXTREMELY ENCOURAGED, and does not replace the prompt. It’s like reference information-- telling the artist whom they’re drawing.

Please Do:

Be polite! Say please and thank you, be kind to the askbox managers, ect. Everyone working on this project is doing so on a volunteer basis.

Be patient. Depending on what kind of traffic we see right off the bat, it may take a hot second for your request to be accepted.

Be present and ready to provide ref information! If you request an OC for a friend, we’re going to need reference material for our artists to work with! Have files ready upon request, and be prepared for one of our helpers to request that information through the Tumblr IM [check your blog settings and make sure you’re set to accept messages]

Be kind. We’re going to do our best to get to every request we can throughout the month, but please don’t be upset with us if we can’t serve everyone.

Please Don’t:

Try to circumvent the rules. Just don’t.

Be an entitled jackass. This is a volunteer holiday event. We’re gonna do our best, don’t be a jerk if there’s mix ups or we don’t get to your request.

Try to request for yourself. The whole point of this event is do something nice for others.

Ghost us. Please, please don’t send a request in and then ghost the staff of the event. Nothing kills morale quite like a participant dropping off the map without a word.

Okay, are we through all the rules stuff? Then onwards to...

THE PROMPT LIST!

The following is a list of words, phrases, ideas, and memories brainstormed by our team of volunteers to give the requests direction and verity. You may pick 1 [ONE] per request.

Christmas

Hanukah

Kwanza

Samhain

Keeping Old Traditions

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Drifted Myths

Twisted Christmas Tales

Deck the Halls

Making Decorations

Repurposed/Reused/Recycled

Junk into Jolly

Improvised Christmas Tree

Nuka Cola Christmas

Santa Spotting

Holiday Clothes

Ugly Sweaters

Posing for Pictures

Gift Exchange

Present Scavenging

Firelight

Thawing out

Tending the Bonfire

Lights

Unexpected Kindness

Little Mercies

Rare Reunions

Community Celebration

Found Family

Oh Shit I’ve never had real friends during the holidays before

Holiday Meal

Baked Goods

Potluck

Fireside Cooking

Kitchen Catastrophes

Pound Cake

Feasting Aftermath

Holiday Mischief

Brahmin Tipping

Stolen Pants

Pet Dress-up

Mistletoe Mishaps

Someone is kissing Santa

CUI [Caroling under the Influence]

Holiday drinks

Holiday drunks

Is that supposed to be glowing

Candlelight and Snow

First Snow

Noob in a Snowball Fight

Soaked Through and Freezing

Snowed in

Antlers

Pinecones

Fire and Ice

Tropical Transplant

Ringing in the New Year

To New Beginnings

Celebratory Toast

Watching the Clock

Fireworks

Reinvention

Hokay! So you’ve gotten this far-- you know WHO you wanna request for, WHAT you wanna request, you’ve picked something from the PROMPT LIST, and you’re ready to SEND IT IN!

... So what happens after you send your request?

The mods on this blog will add it to our list, and answer your ask PRIVATELY to confirm your request has been added. At the time of the confirmation, we may ask for additional OC reference information, if an OC was requested, or request clarification on relationship context between the requested characters if more than one character was requested. Be ready to correspond with us, and have reference material ready for OCs!

Once your request is confirmed, you’re all done! The rest is up to us. Finished requests will be posted on New Years Day, @ tagging the gift recipient and no one else, leaving the requester entirely anonymous.

Thank you so much if you choose to participate. The request window is open until December 25th. We’ll be working hard until the very last day.

We wish you all a happy holiday, whatever you celebrate, and a happy New Year!

#Sketchy Secret Santa #Fallout Sketchy Secret Santa #Prompt Post #HOLIDAY PROMPT POST

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 16.1)

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

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

CHAPTER 16

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

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

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

Words: 8k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Geralt,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geralt and his shitty, overly developed libido.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaskier likes you and he was sure about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaskier looked utterly wounded from receiving such spiteful words.

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

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

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

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

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

But, he does not opt for it to happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You were saying, bard?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would your fate bring you in their world?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geralt knew, but not you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were definitely the most useless amongst his prior lovers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why did they never see each other again?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"---You had one job."

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

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

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

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

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