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tamibae · 2 years

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Natsu & Lucy Anime Moments [Fixed]

Season One(2009-2013)

Introduction Arc

Episode 1: Natsu and Lucy meet. Natsu saves Lucy from fake Salamander.

Episode 2: Natsu brings Lucy to Fairy Tail. Lucy finds out Natsu`s past from Mirajane. She becomes a member!

Daybreak Arc

Episode 3: Natsu breaks into Lucy`s house, she gets angry. They form a team.

Episode 4: Lucy learns that Everlue blackmailed Daybreak's author. To Lucy’s dismay, Natsu declines the 2 million jewel reward upon realizing Kaby has no money to give them.

Eisenwald Arc

Episode 5: Mirajane implores Lucy to keep Natsu and Gray from fighting and incurring Erza’s wrath.

Episode 7: Lucy pinches Happy's cheeks in anger and Natsu grins proudly at her. Later, Natsu attacks the wind barrier and Lucy holds him back.

Episode 8: Gray comments that Natsu looks stupid wearing a scarf and no shirt, Natsu asks Lucy to give him her clothes.

Episode 9: A mushroom sprouts from Natsu's head and Lucy's eyes pops out.

Episode 10: Lucy comes home to find Natsu(and Happy) working out on her bed. In the end, Lucy decides to go with them on a job.

Galuna Island Arc

Epiosde 11: Natsu, Lucy and Happy embark on the S-Class quest to lift a curse on Galuna Island.

Episode 13: Lucy tries to stop Natsu from falling into her pitfall and fails. Later Natsu jumps to save Lucy from a drop of acid.

Episode 18: Natsu tells Lucy that he can talk Makarov out of punishing them and Lucy seriously doubts him.

Episode 20: Lucy finds a painting with an egg and she learns from Mirajane about Happy’s past.

Phantom Lord Arc

Episode 21: Natsu and his friends return from a mission. Lucy is kidnapped by Juvia.

Episode 22: Learning that Lucy has been kidnapped, Natsu infiltrates one of their tower headquarters to rescue her. Lucy leaps from her tower window and is rescued by Natsu.

Episode 23: Lucy is especially sad and blames herself for what happened to her guild, Natsu dubs her Lucy of Fairy Tail which makes her shed tears of joy.

Episode 26: Gajeel charges in on Lucy, aiming to kill her. It is Natsu who comes erupting from the floor, stops him and saves Lucy.

Episode 27: To save Lucy, Natsu fights against Gajeel. Lucy helps Natsu by summoning Sagittarius.

Episode 28: Lucy realizes that Jude will do anything to have her return home and leaves for her family estate. Out of fear that she will leave them, Natsu, Erza, Gray and Happy follow her. Lucy reunites with her friends and they all return to Fairy Tail.

Episode 29: Natsu(and Happy) cry thinking Lucy left the guild.

Episode 30: Natsu tells Lucy that it won't feel right without her around and that she is needed in the team.

Episode 33: Natsu and Lucy go surfing and Natsu gets sick.

Battle Of Fairy Tail Arc

Episode 42: Lucy returns home after finishing her daily activities, she lies down, only to find Natsu(and Happy) already in her bed.

Episode 44: Natsu wants to fight Lucy.

Episode 45: Lucy wins against Bickslow. Gajeel is shocked and Natsu states she is strong.

Episode 49: Lucy gets a premonition from Cana that she will have a fateful encounter in the near future. Natsu(and Happy) get very sad when Lucy can not go on the mission they chose for her. Eventually she chooses them over her date, making them very happy.

Episode 50: Mirajane suggests Lucy and Natsu would make a great couple, Lucy becomes paranoid that Natsu actually has secret feelings for her.

Episode 51: Lucy is frustrated because she cannot pay her rent again, but Natsu is ready to go on a job which makes Lucy cry from joy.

Oracion Seis Arc

Episode 57: Natsu and Lucy high five each other!

Episode 59: Lucy defeats Angel and tries to reach Natsu who is sick on a raft. She hugs him to her chest before they both fall down the stream. Virgo then dresses them in matching clothes from the celestial world and uses Happy's catchphrase to tease them. Later Natsu thanks Lucy.

Episode 62: Natsu asks Lucy to summon a train celestial spirit and she gets mad.

Episode 73: Lucy catches a cold. Natsu can’t have fun knowing Lucy has been left out, he(and Happy) uproot the Sakura cherry tree so that Lucy can see it.

Edolas Arc

Episode 79: Edo Lucy welcomes Natsu with one of her 48 torture techniques, Screwdrive Crush!

Episode 80: Natsu gets all riled up seeing Lucy Ashley fight a monster and she denies worrying about him. She leads the team to the black market and likes being ordered by Natsu. He risks getting caught by the Edolas Army and rushes to save Lucy.

Episode 81: In the hotel, Edo Lucy asks Natsu if he wants to see her body and Lucy protests. Then they play "who's the real Lucy" with Gemini acting as a third Lucy.

Episode 82: Lucy prevents an infuriated Natsu from losing his cool. Later in the tunnel, during their mission to reach the castle's basement, Lucy punishes Natsu for scaring her and the others.

Episode 83: Natsu threatens to burn everyone to a pile of ashes if the army even touches a hair on Lucy's head.

Episode 86: Lucy and the others go to rescue Natsu and Wendy. Lucy holds an unconscious Natsu in her arms.

Episode 87: Gray throws Lucy towards a motion sick Natsu on rollercoaster, Lucy tries to help Natsu. Hughes takes a shot of them and displays on a big screen. Later Natsu teases Lucy by dressing her in various outfits. Lucy gets her revenge by dressing Natsu in the same outfits. Natsu then formulates an idea wherein Lucy will attempt to seduce Hughes in a bikini top and skirt.

Episode 94: Natsu gives his cape to Lucy.

Tenroujima Arc

Episode 109: Lucy and Hikaru’s battle interrupts Natsu’s battle with Ultear, leading Natsu to help Lucy and reform their old team. Lucy refuses to leave Natsu and run because- "its always more fun when they are together."

Episode 115: Natsu wants Lucy to go with him, as a member of the attack team.

Episode 117: Lisanna tells Lucy to stay close to Natsu, saying that he is stronger when he is surrounded by the people that he trusts.

Episode 119: Lucy catches Natsu from falling. When Hades gets back up, she is afraid and crying while she tightly hugs Natsu and then he gives her courage.

Episode 120: Lucy saves Natsu's scarf from flying away and dearly holds it till Hades is defeated. She gives the scarf back to him and he thanks her. Lucy gets left to carry Natsu.

Episode 122: Lucy is crying and Natsu takes her hand, comforting.

Starry Heaven Arc

Episode 124: 7 years had passed and Lucy finds out her dad died. Natsu follows her in silence and yells at random girls for making Lucy even more sad. In the end, after she overcomes her the grieve, she goes on a job with him (and Happy).

Episode 125: Lucy and Natsu practice ball dancing together. Later, after they complete their job, Lucy asks Natsu to dance with her in the palace.

Episode 127: Lucy bathes with a magical potion she created seven years ago and she dissappears. Everyone forgets about her existence, but Natsu remembers her and she comes back.

Episode 132: Natsu(and Gray) imagine Lucy(and Michelle) in paper clothes.

Episode 137: Dan declares his love for Lucy, again and Natsu is kind of jealous. Natsu demands back the clock hand from Byro, stating it is Lucy's.

Episode 140: Natsu cheers up Lucy and blushes when she catches him.

Episode 144: Imitatia wants to take Lucy with him, Natsu won't allow that.

Episode 145: Natsu wakes up in the cell, shouts Lucy's name repeatedly and tries to break through the bars.

Episode 149: Natsu promises to beat Imitatia and save Lucy. After Natsu sees tears falling from her eyes, signifying her will to fight, he powers up and prepares to fight more seriously. He is confident that he will save Lucy if he defeats the two mages in front of him.

Episode 150: Lucy is separated from the clock and falls from the sky, Natsu gets frantic and when he sees her, he rushes to catch her. Lucy lands on him safely and then smiles at him with a blush afterwards.

Grand Magic Games Arc

Episode 155: Natsu, Lucy(and Happy) and have fun.

Episode 159: Lucy fights against Flare who is cheating. Natsu stops her which allows Lucy to fight again. However Lucy loses and Natsu, walks up to her and tells her to save the tears for when they win, and that she did a fantastic job in showing them that they can still fight in this era.

Episode 160: Natsu wants to peak at Lucy in shower.

Episode 161: Lucy blushingly looks at a struggling Natsu on the battlefield.

Episode 163: Lucy is dressed as a bride and falls over Natsu dressed as a groom.

Episode 165: Natsu doesn't like the idea of a member of Sabertooth meeting Lucy. Lucy uses Natsu's catchphrase while talking about her once goal of collecting all 12 zodiac keys.

Episode 171: Lucy is being tortured by Minerva. Natsu shouts and tells them to stop. Once Minerva drops Lucy, he(and Gray) run to catch Lucy from falling.

Episode 172: Natsu wants to get revenge for Lucy.

Episode 173: Lucy is hospitalized and Natsu is sad for her(and Elfman). He sits beside her bed and when she wakes up, he asks how she is. After talking to Lucy, Natsu tells Wendy to look after her before he leaves for his match.

Episode 174: Lucy can’t sleep because she is worried for Natsu(and Gajeel). Lucy reassures Wendy it will be fine because Natsu and Gajeel are fighting. Natsu and Gajeel stand up to the twin dragons and Lucy smiles because she knows the applauses are for them.

Episode 175: Lucy has a flashback. Lucy tells Natsu that she believes in him since she has joined the guild. Natsu blushes. Lucy says that- "No mattter how far he will be, Natsu will watch over" her. Natsu fights for his hurt friends (Lucy) and wins. Lucy is quoting Natsu and she blushes.

Original post from @fuck-yeah-nalu And thanks to @nalu-gifs for helping me out earlier in some parts.

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu #natsu x lucy #fairy tail nalu #ft nalu #fairy tail anime #nalu anime moments #nalu moments

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a-mere-dream · 2 years

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I know I like to play up Shen Yuan's obliviousness, but to be honest I can totally understand his side.

It's not that he's stupid, or ignorant after all -- he remembered an offhanded mention of a mushroom that wasn't even used in text, only one paragraph in between millions of words. Nor do I think he can't recognize emotions in either himself or others.

It's just -- if he sees something that doesn't match up to his view of what this world is supposed to be like, then either he can accept his data might be false, leaving him stranded in a completely foreign world, left afloat without a single piece of reliable information to hold on to, or he can clutch onto his forced obliviousness for dear life.

Isn't that terrifying? Of course he'd unconsciously only grab a tighter hold of his preconceptions in the face of that. Can you really blame him?

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #scum villain #its having feelings about shen yuan hours y'all #because sometimes i play it up for comedy but also holy shit isn't it terrifying #to be all alone in a foreign world with not even the thing you thought you could rely on to be true

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thefaceman · 2 years

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One of the most misunderstood episodes in the 2012 version has to be the Fear Mushroom episode.

April is shown to be afraid of bats. But really it's to show how much she's afraid of losing her dad to his mutation.

Casey is shown to be afraid of rats. This is pretty common with people, however, I believe this fear stems from that episode when The Rat King is first introduced and rats overtook the city.

Mikey is shown to be afraid of the Squirrelinoids. However, this shows us that Mikey's really afraid of reality. The squirrelinoids were that of fantasy from a simple comic that became real. It showed us that Mikey had realised that his world was becoming more and more dangerous. That the real monsters were those found in the real world. That reality is scarier than fantasy.

Donnie is shown to be afraid that April would hate him. While Donnie's crush on April had a small influence in that, what he's really afraid of is being rejected by those he cares about. April was Donne's first ever HUMAN friend, someone who looked at him as an equal. This only hammers down more when we hear the lines "I hate you, you mutated my father." Donnie still blames himself for nearly losing his best friend. That's also why Donnie was so desperate to get April back. It wasn't just because he had a crush on her, but because she's the only connection he has to being normal.

Raph is shown to have his common known fear of cockroaches (which is later to be found out that he is afraid of all bugs). However, I believe this is a metaphor for his true fear. While it was expected that his fear would be him losing his temper, Raph knows that he and his brothers won't let him get that far. Cockroaches? An insect that can survive a nuclear war? That's not something Raph can control. And while he DOES have a phobia of insects, Raph is most afraid of not being able to control his environment or the situation surrounding him.

Leo is shown to be afraid of letting his team down. While this is true, he has expressed that numerous times, it branches out to being afraid of failure. Leo doesn't just fear he'll fail his team, he's afraid of failing his brothers in a way that could potentially lose their trust or, worse, kill them.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #april o'neil #casey jones #michelangelo #mikey #donatello #donnie #raphael #raph #leonardo #leo

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kushielsmercy · 3 years

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I’m no lore expert, but I do think that Witcher canons that leave out The Choice trial miss a critical piece of how the wolf boys view their lots.

For those unfamiliar, The Choice is said to be the first trial that trainees must pass through. As best I can tell, it only appears in book canon. It happens when the boys are around 9 or 10 and is the first, least deadly (relatively speaking), round of enhancements. The boys eat a special diet of mushrooms and herbs and start the really grueling physical training.

The key thing about The Choice is that it’s presented as just that, a choice. In theory, the boys can say no. They could head back down the mountain and seek their fortune elsewhere.

Now, there’s of course a million complications with that. They’re children. They’re unwanted. The world is cruel and they’re just as likely to end up dead if they’re sent out on their own. The Choice isn’t much of a choice at all.

But I think, as humans, we rely strongly on the illusion of choice. Did someone really choose to work a certain job when they applied to a hundred places, heard back from two, and one paid twice as much? In some ways, no. But in other important ways, you sent the applications and you made a selection. It might have been a choice where the alternative was not feasible, but it was a choice. And as a human having some level of agency, any level, is important.

So let’s apply that idea to our boys.

First there’s Geralt. By all accounts he’s been with the witcher’s the longest, to the point where he has barely any memory of the outside world. Kaer Morhen is his home, being a witcher is his destiny. Sure, that’s no choice, but in the same way we have no choice in the family we are born into. We may at times look at other families who seem to be happier, kinder, richer, and wish that ours were different, but there’s rarely a fundamental feeling that someone fucked us over. As Geralt would say, destiny is a bitch. But there’s no one on this mortal plane to direct that anger at, so most of the time we don’t bother.

And what’s more, Geralt has no comparison. Nothing to be angry that he doesn’t have, because being a witcher is all there is. And, other than the likely horrible death, it probably even sounds pretty cool. I’d bet you good money that the fully grown witcher’s wintering in the keep aren’t sharing horror stories while deep in their cups. Not in a culture that values toughness and traditional masculinity. Nope, they’re bragging about their heroics and the best kills of the season. It’s no wonder Geralt has such romantic notions about his own life.

So sure, Geralt was presented a choice. But he didn’t need it, because just like you’ve always been your mother’s child, he’s always been a witcher. Sometimes that sucks, especially later in life when you start to know other mothers, other options, and can compare. But some things are so fundamental to you as a person that if you made any other “choice” and you wouldn’t be you at all.

Next is Eskel. Steady and sure.

From what we can tell, Eskel came to the witcher’s at a normal age, probably around six or seven. Late enough that he knew his family, he knew his town, he knew a little of life outside the keep. We don’t know much about his background other than he was Hillfolk and presumably dirt poor. But he knew a before and he knew an after; he could compare.

So for Eskel, The Choice was, in an important sense, a choice. If he had said no we don’t know what he would be going back to - probably a short life on the streets begging for scraps. But he knew a little of the outside world, knew in a very tangible sense what it was to be human, and he said yes, okay, I’ll give that up.

And I think that a really important factor in why he’s so content with his lot. It might often be six metric tons of shit, and he might sometimes wonder what might have been, or what the hell he was thinking when he said yes. But he said yes, so who is there to blame really?

And then Lambert. My darling angry rat man Lambert.

He came to Kaer Morhen late. Much later than the other boys. He knew damn well that the outside world was shit, but it was his world. His to hate, but his. He never wanted to be a Witcher and he damn well didn’t choose this life.

And this is me stepping out on a limb, but I think it’s really likely he didn’t choose. Not just in a metaphorical sense, but also as in the trials. If The Choice happened around age 9 or 10, Lambert would have missed it entirely. I think it’s really likely that the instructors skipped it altogether, just started shoving mushrooms down his throat as quick as possible, because the older the boys have lower rates of survival and he needed to be put through The Grasses as soon as possible. So even at the most basic level, stripping away any philosophical discussion about what is choice, really, when all your options are shit? Lambert didn’t choose.

Lambert got dealt a shit hand in a game he never wanted to play. No wonder he’s pissed.

#witcher meta #witcher trials #musings on the nature of choice #geralt of rivia #eskel #witcher eskel #lambert #witcher lambert #shielwrites

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stolensilmarils · 2 years

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so maybe it happens like this.

maybe there are fae living in the Upside-Down and Other Side of Things and Places in their sunlit halls and starlit gardens unbothered by and uninterested in the plagues beyond the borders of their dwellings. but the humans who now so selfishly shape earth and claim everything they touch as their own are so delightfully fun to play with and torment and maim

so maybe it’s just a common sense to keep a sprinkle of salt or an iron nail in your pocket when you go about your work in the fields or walk through meadows. steps careful, eyes sharp

except maybe there’s an unattended toddler stumbling through rings of mushrooms and chasing bees, giggles and clumsy jumps over rain puddles, whom no one cared to warn

(and human children are such marvelous little creatures - you can’t really blame the fae when this one is practically banging on their front doors)

maybe they don’t even bother to place a Changeling in julian’s place as the wind and tree roots lead him from his bed and through the window, bare feet ankle-deep in mud

maybe there is a Fae King to whom all the twisted creatures bow, who’s in a sour mood that night. maybe they seek entertainment (or maybe they just plan to tear the child’s head off)

but maybe the crown they wear is studded with buttercups and even if the child has only now learned to walk and talk, he knew singing even before he took his first breath and the poison yellow flowers do so inspire a song and oh.

maybe instead of unwilling blood taken there is a gift freely given. maybe there is the gift accepted and maybe there is a Boon bestowed

(and what boon is more gracious than the taste of grin sharp, black lips, teeth too many?)

and so maybe the child is returned home that night with dreams filled with pollen and starlight and bitter taste of summerwine. and where julian went to sleep jaskier wakes up none the wiser

his oh so dear parents have never cared, his oh so tired governess - circles of black under empty eyes, fingers like a bow, wrapped around a bottle neck. and the boy is a child whose memories still haven’t learned to cling, so maybe the days and weeks turn to months and years and life goes on

and it may not even be his singing or musical talents, that all can be him still. but maybe there are the little things that no one cares to notice or consider. because after all, who really knows how well exactly does a human eye see in the dark. who really pays attention to how fast small wounds heal

and is it not obvious? maybe the poison accidentally drunk was just a dose not lethal

ordinary people often have unordinary talents so is it really worth a notice if someone learns just slightly too fast, if under someone’s hands flowers grow just a little more lush and if at someone the wild dogs don’t dare to bark?

and if his fingers tingle while holding iron, well. he’s a poet not a smith. and if he tastes blood and ash in the back of his tongue when he’s about to tell a lie, well. growing up, every village woman, grandmother and hag made sure to remind him that lying is bad and well. the taste of it is bad, they must have meant. it seems unnecessary anyway.

after all... the meanings of truth and honesty are not even closely related

(songs don’t count, of course. when lyrics rhyme and fit the note then they ring true, that’s a fact any poet knows)

and maybe he likes to know the names of people he meets, maybe the sound of them said out loud sparkles, taste of ripe peaches on his tongue but what of it. names have power. that’s a known fact, for names or enchantments, it must surely be the same for all

and maybe under the glow of pale stars, in the flare or fire spark or between the green spots that cloud one’s sight on a day too bright the shining eyes and teeth too sharp appear just s flash. A dream. A trick of light. (if a glamour has never been acknowledged or asked to be lifted, how could one then say it even exists?)

maybe people notice somehow. children tug on his sleeves, eyes wide, fingers reaching for his lute demanding a song. adults bite lips and flutter lashes, his music welcome in their ears, his breath welcome on their skin. but there’s something, something shifting beneath on the Upside-Down and Other Side, and it’s what soon after makes their steps away a little faster. he’s sweet, the bard, but talks too much. he’s sweet, the bard, but like his music he’s just a fleeting thing, an enjoyment for a night. he’s sweet, the bard, and he is as human as they come.

geralt, of course, doesn’t realise. amber eyes watchful and bright don’t even see dragon scales underneath the wrinkles of the old man with whom they dine. but after all, the medallion is quiet when there is no magic casted. no spells, no curses, no monsters. (a boon. a gift. a blessing, nothing more.) jaskier is as human as they come.

yennefer frowns when reaching into his thoughts, the walls of his mind sticky like honey, sweet like tree sap. (but maybe the bard just found a new way to annoy the pure hell out of her, why wouldn’t he?) she pays attention but all he does is trip over his words and feet, please. he’s as human as they come.

maybe, in the end, it happens as it often does, with the last man standing.

maybe it’s creatures, maybe it’s soldiers, doesn’t really matter what form the monsters take. but geralt is down and bleeding, yennefer is helpless and screaming and ciri, oh gods, ciri -

and jaskier’s hands are empty and trembling and he’s

useless, useless, useless bard. human as they come.

and maybe that’s when there’s the ever softest sound of hope lost, tears spilled like dew

and maybe that’s when there are insects buzzing, tree roots cracking, air filled with the scent of rain on fresh leaves, the skin-crawling hum of Other

and maybe that’s when there are the too bright eyes and the too sharp teeth and fingers all claws and after?

after.

after, when the ground is sated with fresh blood spilled, when wounds are treated and healed, then maybe all there is left is a lot of confused shouting

(‘how did you not know?!’ and ‘how did you not know?!’ and ‘of Course only you could get yourself snatched by fae!’ and ‘how dare you! i don’t even know what that means!’ and ‘precisely, you moron!’)

and after, maybe the world stays richer for one trickster, one immortal, one bard

(to his own delight)

(to many others’ misery)

and maybe. just maybe.

maybe there is a laughter in the air like clinking of wind chimes, like flutter of wings, like creaking of rotten wood, like the last sigh of a man dying. the Fae King cackles, the buttercups on their crown gleaming.

‘Now the real fun begins’

#nat wrote a thing #the witcher #jaskier #nonhuman!jaskier #nonhuman jaskier #fae!jaskier #fae jaskier #fey jaskier #kinda #creature!jaskier #creature jaskier #jaskier exactly 0.25 seconds after finding out he has power over ppl whose names he knows: 'oh neat! and now on a completely unrelated note #has anyone happen to see my dear. dear friend ~Valdo Marx~? :)'#i'm burried deep in my witcher brain rot and nonhuman!jaskier AUs #saw another post about fae!jaskier and i thought like yes! but consider:#jaskier is human. just slightly to the left #my favourite headcanon always is that he's human but gets immortal on accident somehow by always getting in some kind of trouble like oops #my also favourite headcanon is jaskier being a supernatural creature without anyone realising. him ofc including #i know exactly fck all about fae lore but who cares #like i Know there are the seelie and unseelie courts and whatnot etc but dumb posts don't need researched facts i hope #maybe one day soon or not so soon i'll go do a deepdive into fae societies. maybe not #anyway #is jaskier fae? no #is jaskier human? also no #what is he then?#he's blorbo from my shows :')#anyway my brain is incapable of writing anything of value on this topic other than whatever tf this is but! it was fun to write down so ye

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ladywaifuuwrites · 3 years

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Pillars reacting to their crush who’s small but strong

Request: male pillars reacting to a really strong female pillar whos like super short like 4′10-5′ and they crush on them.

Pairings: Male pillars x fem! reader

Synopsis: Their crush is a strong smol pillar ^_^

Warnings: manga spoiler

a/n: I smiled at your request since I’m small too. Like I’m 5′0. And I’m kinda scared to do face to face classes since the boys at my school will tease me for not getting taller. Hmph. SO HERE YA GO. You’re the first request! Have a nice day whoever u are!

And I am so sorry this is so long! ASJDAOFHHASK. I got carried away in some of those storylines. I hope this makes sense (wrote this when I was hungry).

This would be a headcanon I assume.

I’m sorry if It’s taking me long to answer requests but don’t worry I’ll write those! I’ll probably upload rules for future requests :)

Giyuu Tomioka

yo this guy is tall not kidding

Giyuu is head over heels for you. He’ll want to protect you since you’re the most precious things he’s ever laid eyes on

Sparkles in his eyes whenever he sees you✨

He doesn’t want to lose you so he’s butting in on all of your missions. You get annoyed and you think he’s looking down on you.

You two get into a fight and doesn’t fix it since Giyuu’s communication is bad. It ends up in you walking away.

Nighttime and demons are lurking around in the forest as you take a stroll to clear your mind. Then a demon launches on you but thanks to your quick reflexes you dodge.

It’s a strong demon, close enough to become one of the lower moons. But nothing you can’t handle.

Giyuu senses a demon nearby and he frantically searches for you. *sim dads reaction when the mother goes into labor lmaooooo*

Lights fill up an area of the forest from the techniques you use. In like 2 strikes the demon dies.

He finally finds you as the demon’s ashes blow away. Your hair is dramatically blowing too.

He’s just staring at you then hugs you “I’m sorry. I’m not underestimating you…I just want to protect you.”

Then all good. He’s amazed by how strong you are despite you’re short stature. You’re going to missions together and sometimes he just watches you finish off the demon. Just happy to see that satisfied smile you have when you kill a demon.

Muichiro Tokito

When he first met you at the pillar meeting, he muttered his thoughts, wondering how could someone be that small? You’re in the same age but you’re small.

Shinobu heard him since she was beside him and said “that’s rude to ask someone”. She’s lowkey offended.

Tengen retorts to Muichiro. “You’re small too…??”

Since it’s rude, he kept his mouth shut. You’re the same age as him when you entered the corps. He thinks you’ll grow up anyway.

Surprise surprise you grew up, 2 inches. But still small.

He gets nervous a bit around you since puberty did you good. Won’t admit it though.

Cue swordsmith village arc

He’s having trouble dealing with Gyokko. (I hate his face. It’s weird and ugly.)

Then minutes later, you show up out of nowhere, giving great damage to the demon.

“Are you okay?” you ask him with concern and you two fight off the fish demon.

He’s in awe because you actually took over the fight. Sure you have injuries but those are minor compared to his and you were very careful.

He’s injured so he couldn’t do much but you saved him and the civilians by defeating the demon. That’s when he realized how amazing you are and you earn his respect.

Days pass by and you two along with the other demon slayers are commended by Oyakata-sama.

He thanks you when the both of you are walking together. He’s very grateful for what you did and you two become closer afterwards.

“Ah young love.” Mitsuri sighs blissfully as she watches you two leave the headquarters.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro knows you’re small and he knows you’re strong. You’re one of his trainees along with Mitsuri, so you’ve known each other for a long time now.

You rose to the ranks of the pillars with Kyojuro’s guidance. And now you’re looked up to by the whole organization because of your excellent swordsmanship despite your small figure.

So you’re tasked to train 20 slayers ranked below Tsuchinoto. You take them to a clearing in the forest where training equipment are already placed. You train them by remembering what Kyojuro has taught you over the years. And you smile, seeing your past self in the struggling slayers.

You gave them a 10 minute break and after 10 minutes, you do a headcount to see if everyone is in your proximity.

“18,19…?????”

Oh no. A slayer is missing.

So you set off to find the missing one and there you found him.

Hanging upside down from the arms of a large demon. The boy is muttering apologies for straying faraway and is begging for you to save him upon seeing you.

You are annoyed at the fact that he has disobeyed your orders and is now at the hands of danger. But this was no time to be blaming someone for a boy’s life is at stake here.

You jump into the air and you take down the demon pretty easily with one strike of your sword. And you catch the falling boy bridal style with your annoyed face.

You put the boy down but suddenly a demon comes attacking you both. You kill it but more of it comes at you. They are easy to take down but it keeps coming, making you tired if you have to do this all night. It just won’t stop multiplying.

You think you’ve killed almost all of it but then the slayer screams “(L/N)-SAN!!!!!”. A monstrous looking demon bares its claws at you, but before you could react a flash of flames appears right in front of your eyes.

“Kyojuro…” You whisper in relief as he slays the final demon. The bright flames sparkle in your eyes as you’re once again amazed at the man.

Kyojuro looks at you and comes over. “You’re so amazing.” You manage to say.

He smiles and says. “No. You’re the amazing one.”. You always manage to face whatever challenge and it always ends up in you winning. Kyojuro knows how hard you proved others wrong by becoming a strong pillar.

Super proud of you cause you’re strong. He actually watched you battle those before jumping in to save you.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He doesn’t really care if you’re short or tall

The important things is that you’re useful to the organization

When someone teases you about your height, you end up feeling down and he’s there to beat that someone’s ass.

He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s a softie when it comes to you. You eventually break down his walls and now you can say you’re friends with the scary wind pillar.

You always tease him though and he’s always annoyed. But everyone thinks you’re both dumb since it’s very clear that you two like each other but you still deny it.

There’s this time where Sanemi is visibly struggling fighting demons as you watch him peacefully on a rooftop. He’s glaring at you and asks you “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”.

You just smile at him sweetly😊

Sanemi pretends his heart didn’t do a flip. But his heart stopped when he saw a demon behind you on the rooftop.

He was about to call your name when another blink and the demon’s head was cut off.

He was surprised since it all happened so fast. You go down to the ground, landing safely as you battle demons that the frozen Sanemi left.

It just took you 10 seconds to eliminate those demons and Sanemi’s mouth is left agape as he watched you.

You weren’t normally like this. So why the sudden surge of power?

“Sanemi hun. Close your mouth.” You say to him with a blank face, but before you could go past him, he gripped your wrist tightly and placed your small body in front of him.

He dragged you so easily lol.

He hugged you with your faced buried on his chest.

It was the comforting kind of silence. Sanemi was scared losing you to that demon but deep inside he knows that you’re strong.

Won’t admit that your moves are amazing.

Gyomei Himejima

This man is the strongest in the demon slayer corps and the tallest

Lmaoooo you would be like a mushroom beside him💀🍄

Gyomei actually gets out of tricky situations easily because he’s that strong

You’re a fairly new pillar who earned her spot 3 months ago. You two were assigned on a mission together. A gigantic demon appeared throughout the village that was between the regions you and the stone pillar were assigned in.

Gyomei knows your capabilities so he trusts you in doing a good job, but he can’t help but worry about you.

He doesn’t care if you’re small, he thinks that height isn’t the basis for an excellent demon slayer. But he’s still worried, so he looks for you. I don’t know how he looks but he looks.

Then he sees you fighting off demons very easily. A determined look is seen across your face. Gyomei feels he’s tearing up because he’s so proud of you. Proud boyfriend here somethin.

You were just a weak mizunoto years ago and now you’re a strong pillar who can fight with him side by side.

When you finish off the demons, you look to see Gyomei smiling at you. This were the fruits of the harsh trainings you went through, it made an excellent swordswoman.

Among the pillars, you stand beside Gyomei in rankings. So you’re powerful like wow. O_O

Obanai Iguro

He’s small but have you seen him fight? He’s a demon slayer with remarkable speed and you won’t know he’s attacking you because his moves slithers secretly like a snake.

You’ve always admired Obanai even you’re now both pillars. And that admiration bloomed into something more.

He’s a strong pillar despite his small stature and that’s what you aim for to be like.

You’re trying to show off your moves to him every time you’re in battle together, to show him what you can do. To which he’s just “meh”.

So you give up on trying to show off and just do it for the sake of the people you’re saving.

You really gave up on showing off, but you can’t help it cause your breathing forms are flashy. Obanai doesn’t show it but he loves that display of power you have when you’re fighting.

Poor man doesn’t realize he’s in love with you even though others point it out.

He’s having trouble dividing his attention on protecting the civilians or fighting the demons. Luckily you were near the area so you came to his aid.

You slay the demons with your sharp and precise movements in just a short amount of time.

He’s like 😲 but when you turn he’s back to 😐😷

He’s one of the guys who won’t admit that you’re amazing and won’t admit that he likes you. You force him to confess though.

Tengen Uzui

If Obanai doesn’t admit he likes you, this guy would shout that he likes you

Would openly flirt with you because why not? There’s nothing to be shy about.

Always takes the chance to compliment and flirt with you.

“You’re cute (y/n)” “Thanks” Tengen finds your height cute because the height difference is HUGE.

Another mushroom like moment💀🍄

He knows you’re strong so he likes to train with you. Always ends up letting you win because he just likes it when he’s pinned down by your smaller figure.

When a demon invasion came in your area,, you fight them off while Tengen is called for backup.

He slays the lesser demons easily and found you fighting a stronger demon while protecting some children behind your back.

He smirks and leans against a tree, arms folded while watching you fight off the demon.

You did it so easily making Tengen’s eyebrows rise.

Then you see him and ask him “what are you doing?”.

“watching you.” He finds you hot and sexy when you have that focused look in the middle of a battle. He won’t say it out loud because you might smack him in the face.

Super amazed at the fact that you’re stronger than the other pillars despite your small figure.(he thinks you’re stronger than him but dismisses that because pshhhhhh).

Will throw you over his shoulder at random times. Thinking that his antics will make you fall in love with him.

And it did…

#kny headcanons #kny #demon slayer #giyuu x reader #muichiro x reader #sanemi x reader #kyojuro x reader #obanai x reader #gyomei x reader #tengen x reader #uzui x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #iguro obanai x reader #gyomei himejima x reader #uzui tengen x reader #muichiro tokito x reader

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thelostcityofsugarteara · 2 years

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Hi there! Could I request something for licorice cookie x reader where the reader looks very big and intimidating and they’re also quite strong but they’re just a very soft person with licorice? Thank you so much!

hi anon !! thank you for the request <3

licorice with an intimidating s/o !

he was scared of you at first.

first dark choco, and now you ?!?

eventually warmed up to you & you two started dating.

he was quite surprised at how affectionate & soft you are with him !! you’re a very intimidating person, and then you’re like this with him ?

he’s very grateful though, it’s so nice to have someone who cares about him & loves him for who he really is <3

you always encourage him on his magic & compliment his skills !! you love the flustered look he gets on his face.

comfort him whenever a mission fails, he often gets very insecure & blames himself, even if it isn’t his fault :(

if pomegranate ever continually insults him like she does with dark choco, you won’t hesitate to fight with her.

one time you took her mirror & she was defenceless against you. licorice had to quickly drag you away before you beat the red mage up !

poison mushroom thinks of you two as parents :’))))

imagine you & your bf on a mission together when a small group ambushes you.

he’s prepared to use his magic to defend you, but before he can summon his licorice servants, all the people are knocked out or running away frantically !!

he looks at you, and is shocked to find out that you did all this !!

well, he already knew, but still got shocked… lmao :’D

i hope you enjoyed, anon !!

#cookie run kingdom #x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #cookie run x reader #licorice cookie #licorice cookie x reader #sugartearawrites

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trzee · 3 years

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GeorgeNotFound, the catalyst of the DSMP.

By being being the first person to log on the server with Dream, George is the co-founder of the DSMP.

In the beginning of the SMP, Ponk griefs George’s house, trapping and killing him, in revenge George decides to burn Ponk’s lemon tree, while being supported and motivated by Dream. George first burned Ponk’s small lemon tree, but after getting informed by chat that Ponk had a bigger lemon tree, he decides to go there. He kills Ponk’s chickens and burns his tree to the ground. This would be the kick-starter for the Disc Saga.

During the L'Manberg war, George was Dream's second in command. “Look, George. Everything the light touches is our kingdom. King's time as a ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, George, the sun will set, and my time here will rise with you, as the new king.” - Dream.

During the L’Manberg election, he was Quackity’s running mate for SWAG2020, however George slept through it (because he wasn’t told the actual date of the election. Sorry Quackity, you can’t blame him for that). “When this was a simpler time, on this server, we all lived in harmony and it was very nice, very peaceful, we loved it, and then, you (Tommy) came along. You started wars, battles, killings, the list goes on, and simply, my opinion on conflict is, we should keep it to a minimum, but clearly in your mind, you want it to the maximum. I don't agree with that, at all.” - George. Due to George sleeping through the election, we got Quackity siding with Schlatt and starting the new era of “Manberg”. This would be the start of the Manberg x Pogtopia Arc.

George was the first one to talk about the server as "one big happy family”. “I mean, there is a lot of power that he (JSchlatt) holds right now. But removing the wall, y'know – the wall was something that, in our original argument. […] Yeah, we wanted to remove the wall. I mean, now he’s doing it, the policies are in action. But we’ve got to make sure he doesn’t get out of control. Now there’s no wall, “L'Manberg” is now, y'know, just part of the server. And it’s - it’s just one big happy family now. There’s no… uh… y'know. You know what i’m saying? Look at it. It looks way better now that there’s no wall. It blends into the environment…” - George.

George was Jschlatt's co-vice president of Manberg, however he moved away from Manberg to stay with Awesamdude.

During the Manberg Rebellion, George decided to build his mushroom house instead of participating in it. His neutral instance in regards to the wars and fighting made Dream make him the king of the SMP.

By griefing George’s mushroom house with Ranboo and angering Dream, Tommy got exiled of L’Manberg. This would result in Tommy's exile arc and reach its conclusion with Dream's imprisonment.

When George decided to join Quackity and build Mexican L’Manberg/El Rapids, Dream didn’t appreciate his instance, as he was no longer neutral, and decided to dethrone him. One of the reasons why Dream decided to dethrone him was because he wanted to keep George safe. However, due to an argument with Tommy where Dream stated that “he didn't care about anything on the server”, Sapnap mentioned this to George, making it seem like Dream was only using that "he cares about George" as an excuse to dethrone him. This would begin a time period where the Dream Team got separated on the server and Dream got deeper on his villain arc, visiting Tommy constantly in Logstedshire.

During the Disc Confrontation on Dream’s base, George was the only member of the original (active) members (Ponk, Awesamdude, Sapnap, Callahan, BadBoyHalo) to not join and side with Tommy and Tubbo. George was also the only member that didn’t have an “attachment” on Dream’s museum.

When Sam Nook was building Tommy’s “Big Innit Hotel”, he gave Tommy the task to tame some cats to be placed around the site to scare creepers away. During one of George’s streams — when Tommy was already stuck in prison with Dream — he punched one of the cats outside the hotel, this would end up resulting on the cat transporting to the cell and Dream getting attached to it. Tommy kills the cat in front of Dream and that is one of the triggers that lead Dream to take one of Tommy’s life.

It was explained by Lore Man that George sleeping through big events on the server was the result of a sleeping curse that had been placed on him. It still is not clear what are the implications of his “slumber/greywaren” status, but George is protected by DreamXD (protector of The End and the DSMP) who gave him netherite armor and tools during one of his dreams and George was able to bring back to “real life”.

#georgenotfound #dream smp #dsmp #big thanks to the dream team wiki you guys are amazing #this wouldn't be possible without your amazing archive #also if you guys see something that you want to add #feel free to message me #if i got something wrong too #HOPE THIS WILL OPEN YOUR GUYS EYES TO HOW IMPORTANT GEORGE IS TO THE LORE #he's the mfer catalyst yall #dreamwastaken #*#long post #dreamxd #george lore #(HAD TO UPDATE WITH THE 11 ITEM)#i had forgotten about it #enjoy yall #death tw

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myc-ology-whore · 2 years

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The Morning After

(Magic) Myc x GN!Reader

Content: Mentions of sex, but no explicit NSFW; non-committal reader finds themselves in Myc's bed after a night together, fluff ensues

Kinda short, but I'm just finishing this up after an all-nighter at 6am so... considering that, I think it turned out okay :)

Edit: Somewhat inspired by this post, thanks @cognitozclownz

You wake up entangled in several warm, squishy somethings. It takes a moment before you fully gain consciousness and realize that you passed out in Myc's bed last night after you'd gotten laid. This wasn't the first time the two of you had slept together, but usually you'd get up and shower afterward before heading back home. Myc complained a little the first time, but it had become a routine very quickly. You didn't want anything more from him than a friends-with-benefits sort of deal; not only was he kind of an asshole, but you always did terrible in relationships. They usually ended painfully, and you didn't want to risk losing Myc as a friend or have to deal with getting yourself hurt. He seemed to understand that, and so the two of you had been sleeping together for a couple months now, just relieving stress together.

Last night he was rougher than usual, however, and by the end of your tryst you could barely move due to exhaustion. You vaguely remembered him getting up and getting you a Gatorade and a heating pad before your eyes fell shut. That was sweet of him, you thought idly, glancing over at the nightstand to see the half-empty sports drink.

You felt his muscles tense and twitch against you, seconds later finding yourself pulled closer against him. As someone who made a conscious effort not to get attached to people, you were used to carefully scooting out of bed before a partner woke up, not wanting to have to say goodbye. You could see now, unfortunately, that wasn't going to be an option; you were ensnared by all six of the mushroom's surprisingly strong limbs, and you knew they wouldn't budge unless you woke him up.

Sighing quietly, you resigned yourself to the fate of having a conversation first thing in the morning and twisted yourself around in Myc's hold. He grumbled and loosened his grip a little, but once you were facing him he tightened his grasp once more. You couldn't help but stare at his sleeping form; you'd never seen him so peaceful, since you always left before he went to bed. And the silence, god, that was unheard of with him. His orb was dim, but you saw strange little flashes here and there that made you wonder if he was dreaming. His gills opened ever so slightly as he breathed, something that should've been obvious but that you never took the time to notice. As strange as he was, Myc really was a beautiful creature when you took the time to look at him.

Without realizing it, your hand had come to find its way to his orb, feeling the odd, slick texture of it that somehow never made your hands wet. Another flash went through the orb, and slowly but surely it began to glow a little brighter. Another tired groan and some mumbling came from the orb, lighting it up baby pink, and within the next minute a heavy, tired sigh blew out of Myc's gills.

It seemed to take him a moment to register the situation, and you couldn't blame him. You knew Myc wasn't big on mushy stuff or commitment either, so to be waking up next to someone in the morning must be relatively uncommon for him, too. You continued stroking the side of his orb, noting how his limbs went almost rigid around you. When he didn't speak, you almost thought he'd gone back to sleep, but the tenseness of his body told you otherwise.

"Morning," you said awkwardly, letting your hand fall to the pillow in between the two of you. Almost automatically, a single tentacle let go of your waist and instead wormed its way up to lay on top of your hand.

"Hey," he replied, in a voice so soft you almost didn't recognize it. It immediately made your heart skip a beat; why did he sound like that? Was he just tired? Another limb came to rub up and down your shoulder fondly, and you felt the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. It had been a while since someone had touched you as gently as that.

"Sorry," you said suddenly, not knowing why you said it. "For falling asleep here last night, I mean."

"You don't gotta be sorry for that," Myc said incredulously, recoiling ever so slightly. "I told you before that you could stay as long as you want."

"Right, yeah, but..." You paused, shifting uncomfortably in his grasp. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he commanded, and you fell silent, looking down as his tentacle firmly grasped your hand. There was a slight lull in the softness of the moment, but somehow you found yourself feeling a little less embarrassed the longer Myc held you. You got the feeling he was doing the same thing you'd been doing, studying your features as he slowly rubbed up and down your arm, and you felt a little shy. "You don't have to clam up around me, you know."

You huffed a laugh, knowing he could see right through you. "I'm not used to this," you said, sliding your thumb up and down the tentacle in your hand. "You know, the whole..."

"Yeah, whatever this is," he finished, sighing again. "The mushy crap."

"I can go, if you want," you offer, already knowing by the way he squeezed your hand what his answer would be.

"No, stay," he said, sounding slightly petulant. You snickered and smiled up at him, and the limb that had been on your arm before came up to touch your cheek. It stayed there for a few seconds before he mumbled, "You're gorgeous like this."

You felt your face heat up under his touch, and you knew this was going somewhere you weren't sure how to handle. Not knowing what else to say, you reply, "You're just saying that."

"Yeah, I am just saying that," he snarked, "and I'm just meaning it, too. Just take the compliment, you know I don't give 'em out very often."

You laughed shyly, looking back down at your hands. "Well, thanks," you say, letting yourself relax a little. You decided then that whatever happened in the next few moments happened, and that you'd have no regrets. Without allowing yourself to think on the consequences, you blurted, "I like you."

Myc remained silent, though he didn't seem tense. His tentacle remained coiled around your hand, another still resting on your cheek. You realized the latter was glowing a pretty pink, meaning he was sifting through your thoughts, but you allowed it just this once. You trusted him more than enough as a friend, and you felt safe in his arms even now, naked and vulnerable, knowing that if he wanted he could see you for everything you ever were or had been as he looked through your mind.

The glow of his tentacle faded; you wondered if he had found what he was looking for. "I did," he said, confirming your silent question. "Wanted to see if you really meant that."

"You don't trust me?"

"I don't trust human brains," he replied. "I've been around long enough to know that even when people think they mean something, their subconscious can be saying something different. Not your fault, just how humans work."

You glared at him for a moment, but decided to let it slide. "And what did my subconscious say?"

He tilted himself forward, pulling you closer until his orb rested gently against your forehead. "A lot of stuff," he mumbled, poking at your cheek. "You think too much."

You scoffed. "Yeah, tell me about it."

You knew that if he could smile, he would. "Well, I regret to inform you that you're right," he teased. "You do like me."

"And what do you think about that?" You held onto his limb tightly, hoping you hadn't ruined anything.

"I once again regret to inform you that I might feel the same," he said, resuming his soft touches on your arm. Your face lit up, and you couldn't help a giddy giggle.

"You mean it?"

He hugged you closer. "Yeah," he confirmed, petting your hair. "Now can we go back to sleep?"

#inside job #inside job x reader #myc #magic myc #myc x reader #magic myc x reader #fluff #sfw #some morning cuddles for you #confessions #please send me asks uwu

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babygirlyusuf · 2 years

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one day i will run out of joenicky friends-to-lovers one shots. today is not that day.

Joe propped his chin in his hands, sighing. He was in a soft, almost melancholy mood, a couple glasses of wine buzzing through him pleasantly. He was hopelessly in love, with his best friend who had never given any indication of feeling the same way, and was feeling particularly besotted tonight.

It’s just that Nicky was so handsome and so in his element, cooking a delicious smelling sauce at the stove, laughing at something their friends were saying. Joe wasn’t sure what exactly it was that anyone was saying— he was a little preoccupied with Nicky’s broad shoulders flexing as he expertly diced some garlic.

When Nicky tucked his soft, flopping hair behind his ears, Joe had to resist the urge to sigh again, convinced that actual hearts would manifest above his head like he was a cartoon character in love.

A piece of popcorn bounced off his forehead, distracting him from his contemplations about going up and wrapping his arms around Nicky’s waist, kissing his neck.

Joe scowled, turning to the culprit. “What.”

They were all over at Nicky’s place, drinking wine, playing cards and eagerly awaiting whatever delicious meal Nicky had cooked for them. Booker was there, looking unrepentant, and smirking lazily. “You’re pathetic.”

Joe couldn’t even argue. “I know, alright. He’s just so— so—”

“If you say ‘husband-shaped’ again I will dump this popcorn on your head.”

Silence. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Oh, Joe.” Booker got up and kissed the side of Joe’s head and patted his shoulder condescendingly, before walking over to get them another bottle of wine.

Joe swatted him away, crossing his arms petulantly, turning back to watch Nicky stir the contents of the skillet, chatting away with Quynh. She was raising an unimpressed eyebrow and saying, “You’re making a stir-fry without mushrooms?”

“Joe doesn’t like mushrooms.” Nicky replied patiently, then smiled at him gently over his shoulder, “Right, Joe?”

Joe was going to melt off his chair into an actual puddle.

“Right. Thanks Nico.”

The stir-fry was delicious, somehow better knowing that Nicky had omitted mushrooms just for him. The rest of the night went by pleasantly. It was a cozy, chill night, one that made Joe happy to have the friends he did.

Joe’s thoughts kept straying though, thinking about Nicky’s sweet smile, his broad hands as he deftly shuffled a deck of cards, his lovely voice as he told them all an anecdote from work.

Joe had it so bad.

He was the first one to decide to leave, having to get up for an earlier shift at work. He was full, tired and a little bit tipsy and for the rest of his life he would blame those reasons for what he did next.

Joe got up and shuffled around the couch, “Good night everyone. Thanks for supper, Nicky. I’ll see you Thursday, right?”

Nicky smiled up at him from where he was sitting on the couch. “Yes, Thursday. Good night, Joe.”

Joe smiled back. “Good night.”

Then, without a thought in his head, like he did it every day, he leaned down and kissed Nicky chastely on the mouth in goodbye.

Time stopped. Nicky froze under his mouth.

Joe, realizing what he had done, jumped back. Nicky stared at him with wide eyes, cheeks pink.

“Um, uh—” Joe stuttered, not sure of what he could possibly say to make this right. So, instead of speaking, he turned and fled to the door, shoving his feet into his shoes and getting the hell out of there.

Joe waited until he got down to the street before burying his face in his hands and letting out a resounding, “Fuck.”

Booker was wrong— Joe was worse than pathetic. He was an idiot. Who went around kissing their friends like that? Joe apparently, unable to keep his feelings in check.

Now he’d never be able to face Nicky again. He couldn’t even call Nicky his friend, much less call him his husband one day.

“Joe!” It was Nicky’s voice. Joe seriously considered not turning around for a moment, maybe running around the corner instead.

He took a deep breath and turned around eventually. Nicky was jogging down the sidewalk, holding Joe’s jacket in one hand.

Nicky’s cheeks were still pink, most likely from running down the stairs in his building. He held up Joe’s jacket, smiling kindly. “You forgot this.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Joe took it, shifting, embarrassment settled uncomfortably in his chest. After a moment of silence, Joe continued. “Nicky, I’m so sorry.”

“Hm,” Nicky said. “I am sorry too.”

Joe frowned. “Why?”

Nicky chewed on his bottom lip, staring at Joe with his bright eyes. “Well, as nice as it was, I always wanted our first kiss to go better than that.”

It was Joe’s turn to freeze. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, certain it was loud enough for Nicky’s entire street to hear the pounding.

“How did you—” Joe cleared his throat, “How did you want it to go?”

Nicky stepped closer, their chests hovering an inch away from one another, his eyes dropping to Joe’s lips. “Why don’t I show you?”

Joe nodded. And Nicky did.

#my fic #joenicky fic #one more little one shot before the semester starts on monday <33

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sandbees · 3 years

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15 Things the First Years Have Done

The first years, all combined together as a big group, have done the most chaotic stuff in the history in NRC. In the Headmaster’s desk, is a list of what the One Braincell Group has done. (In which little to no context is given)

As First Years of NRC, we pledge to not,

1. Throw Grim into the Savannaclaw pool. Or anyone, for that matter.

“How did you even manage to throw Leona into the pool?”

“Pure spite.”

“He spoke condescendingly to Yuu, he had to go.”

“I don’t agree with what they did, Leona was being Leona. But it was pretty funny.”

2. Play “How Many People Can Accidentally be Collard by Riddle?”

“I think Epel won that.”

“15 people.”

“Could’ve been 20 if Vil didn’t catch you.”

3. Test Yuu’s magic resistance

“How resistant are you, anyways?”

“I think Sebek’s lighting spell knocked them out.”

“Oh yeah, that hurt a lot. How many volts was that?”

“Volts?”

“Oh, we are going to test how many volts Sebek’s spell has later.”

4. Beat up your seniors

“To be fair, they dumped a bucket of water on Ace.”

“Wait - that was them?”

“Wait we weren’t supposed to say that-“

“It’s fine Ace, we took care of them, didn’t we?” :)

“Didn’t you and Deuce put them in the infirmary?”

“Didn’t they stop dumping water on Ace? Yes? So what’s the problem?”

5. Make vague threats that involve Malleus Draconia.

“Now that’s unfair, those threats were facts!”

“I still can not believe you manage to get Waka-sama’s favor.”

“Well, I’m his friend, of course he likes me.”

6. Start a food fight in Mostro Lounge, and then blame it on Floyd.

“But he did start it!”

“No, he really did. We just escalated it.”

“Haha, I remember hitting him with an apple. It was satisfying to see the smirk wiped off his face.” :)

7. Kidnap Ortho Shroud for the 50th time.

“Did Idia add that one? Because we technically didn’t kidnap Ortho.”

“It’s been, what? A week since we’ve invited Ortho over? We should invite him again.”

“Also it’s been 57 times we’ve taken Ortho, this list should be more accurate.”

8. Steal armor and weapons from Diasomnia, have Jack transform into a wolf, and “raid” Kalim’s treasure room.

“Pfft, remember the terror in everyone’s eyes? Hilarious.”

“I remember when I rode Jack like a steed, wielding Grim like a flamethrower.”

“Ah, to bad Jamil used Snake Whisper on us and kicked us out.”

9. Steal potions from Pomfiore and drink them from the bottle, competing against each other for “poison tolerance”.

“Ok, not our best idea.”

“Yeah that was deserved. Though Sebek won that one, didn’t he?”

“Fae are naturally strong against poisons! Besides, I must be resilient to them in case someone tries to poison Waka-sama’s food!”

10. Scream out song lyrics at 5 in the morning.

“I can’t believe we managed to do that.”

“Agreed. Especially since how far Ramshackle is from the other dorms.”

“Ah, the magic of the magic mirrors.”

11. Let Deuce “duke it out” on people harassing you. Tell a teacher.

“But asking a teacher is so repetitive. Besides, if Deuce beats them up they’ll never bother us again, unlike having a teacher lecture them.”

“Yeah, plus bad boy Deuce is h o t.”

“H-huh?!”

“Ew, gross. Stop being horny.”

12. Paint the roses Pink, Maroon, Wine Red, Carmine, Red Violet, OR ANY OTHER RED COLOR VARIANT THAT IS NOT A TRUE RED

“But we did follow the rules. It’s just that we ran out of traditional red paint.”

“Pffft, Riddle’s face turned as red as the roses when he saw what we did.”

“Ugggh, my only regret was that we did it before an Unbirthday party. He made us paint it an hour before.”

13. Sneak into Mostro Lounge, only to ask Jade if he has “the goods”

“It’s not my fault they assumed we were talking about drugs.”

“Yeah, I wanted to try out some of the wild mushrooms he found. I heard the wild plants around here are good.”

“Blegh, I can’t believe you dragged us into that. I don’t even like mushrooms.”

14. Mix your powers together. No, we do not want a repeat of the FIRE THUNDERSTORM INCIDENT.

“Hey! That was a complete accident.”

“No it wasn’t. You started it. You were egging on Grim and Sebek.”

“It’s not my fault that they attacked me.”

“Stupid human! You were the one to fan our magic!”

15. Stop creating plots that damage the school’s reputation.

“Ok, we have had a few scandals, but it’s not as bad as the dorm leader’s.”

“...”

“Ok, we may have done worse. But those were fixed before they got into the public!”

We have read the rules, and we agree to never do these things again.

Signed,

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Jack Howl

Epel Felmier

Sebek Zigvolt

Yuu MC

(...Fingers Crossed...)

1K notes · View notes

a-kind-of-merry-war · 3 years

Text

love-in-idleness

After vanishing in the middle of the night, Geralt returns changed, with love on his lips. Cursed, bespelled, or maybe just concussed, Jaskier has to get him to a mage - for both their sakes.

Rated M for one extremely brief boner. 6.7k words. Contains love spells, pining, and the pain of rejection - and rejecting.

“I love you, Jaskier.”

This, Jaskier thought, was bad. This was very bad. The only way that this could possibly be worse was if one - or both of them - were dead.

He considered this. No: that was overly dramatic. Although given the circumstances, maybe it would be preferable to simply fall into a ravine or get eaten by a ghoul. He sighed, stuffing a blanket into his pack, not stopping to fold it. He could feel Geralt’s eyes on his back.

Jaskier had spent hours looking for him, only to return despondently to their camp to find Geralt sitting by the embers of last night’s fire looking confused, but unharmed. Jaskier had been incensed - where the fuck have you been, Geralt - but instead of giving him an explanation Geralt had stood, stalked across the clearing and - much to Jaskier’s shock - had attempted to kiss him.

Turning his face away was perhaps the most difficult thing he’d ever done, until it became clear that he would have to continue to turn away, each time hurting a little more.

Something was wrong with the witcher. He’d either been cursed or bespelled or eaten a weird mushroom or hit his fucking head on a rock but something - definitely - was wrong. Geralt did not feel that way about Jaskier: Jaskier knew it, in his bones.

Under different circumstances, Jaskier would have been only too happy to acquiesce to Geralt’s charms. But to do so now was unthinkable: it would be like he was using him. It was better to gently rebuff his persistent attempts at wooing. Jaskier could admit that he was partly to blame for Geralt’s perseverance: he hadn't given him an outright no, not really.

The last things shoved untidily away, he stood, and was caught in a beam of bright mid-morning sunlight, temporarily blinding him. From behind, he heard Geralt make a little noise that, a few days ago, would have made his heart soar - but now only made him wince.

“You’re beautiful, Jask.”

Jaskier sighed again. They needed to find someone to fix this, fast.

It was like a lever had been pulled somewhere in Geralt’s brain. Jaskier had never known him to talk this much. It was typical, of course, that the one time Geralt had decided to actually chat to him was also the one time that Jaskier wished he wouldn’t.

It was constant, like every thought that bubbled up in Geralt’s mind had to escape through his lips. The barrier between thoughts and speech had been not only lifted, but destroyed and burnt and buried. It was a barrage of compliments, of soft admissions, one after the other. You’ve got wonderful eyes. Your hair is so thick. You bite your lip when you’re nervous: I like it.

And each one came wrapped around those three words, over and over, driving Jaskier mad.

“I love you.”

“I know,” Jaskier replied each time, trying not to sound too forlorn.

They walked side by side, kicking up dust along the dry road. Roach walked beside them - Geralt holding her reins in one hand and Jaskier’s hand in the other. This was a hard fought for compromise - allowing Geralt to hold his hand as they walked was the only way to stave off his sudden clinginess, and it at least seemed to keep him happy, even if he did keep complimenting the softness of Jaskier’s skin.

Their fingers were twined together, and Geralt rubbed this thumb across the back of Jaskier’s hand. He’d removed his gloves, and his skin was warm and more supple than Jaskier had been expecting. This, Jaskier thought, he could allow himself: this was all he could take that wouldn't leave him feeling guilty.

Besides, Geralt would thank him for it later if the squeezing, heart-stopping grip was the only thing stopping him from rushing off in a spell-induced stupor and getting himself injured.

It was a spell, Jaskier had decided. If it had been something Geralt ate, it would have worn off by now thanks to the mutagens in his blood. Jaskier had even inspected him for head wounds, just in case this really was some sort of concussion, but hadn’t been able to find anything. It had taken an age, too: Geralt had virtually purred at him as he’d carefully pulled aside his hair, examining his scalp for bumps or bruises, and when he’d moved around his face to get a look at his eyes - making sure his pupils were focusing - Geralt had tried to kiss him again.

Checking Geralt’s pupils had been a pointless endeavour, it turned out: they were wide and round, virtually filling the entire of his golden irises as Jaskier leaned in, peering at him. He’d been put in mind of the cats he’d had as a boy - that wide-eyed expression when they’d seen something particularly appealing.

A side-effect of the spell, he’d assumed.

They were lucky, he supposed, keeping his thoughts to himself as Geralt muttered on about how nice his fingers were. They were only a day and a half from Vizima, where he hoped they would be able to find Triss. They had been heading to the city regardless, seeking out some contract that Geralt had told him about weeks ago. It was another scrap of good fortune: Geralt was blindly insisting that nothing was wrong, and Jaskier wasn’t sure he’d have managed to convince him to head to the city was it not already their destination.

He was silently thankful that they’d been in Temeria, so close to the capital, when the curse or spell or whatever it was had struck: this way, he wouldn’t be forced to seek out Yen.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think she could fix this - he knew, of course, that she could - but he couldn’t bear to be pinned under her gaze as Geralt stood there, rambling on about how much he wanted to kiss him. It would have been dreadful, especially after the curse had been lifted and Geralt realised exactly what he’d said.

Jaskier was forced to admit, though, that aside from the sudden affection Geralt’s behaviour wasn’t all that different. He was still stoically serious to anyone who approached them, still kept a careful eye out for bandits or monsters, and still moaned at Jaskier for wearing inappropriate footwear - although now that came with new intentions: I just don’t want you to be in pain, Jask.

Jask. Geralt never called him anything other than Jaskier, or bard, or some vaguely detached insult. The sudden diminutive was new and sweet and Jaskier wished that it didn’t make his stomach flip every time Geralt said it.

They walked all day, pausing only briefly in the early afternoon to eat a quick lunch before moving swiftly on. Geralt had insisted that Jaskier take the last apple, and he’d been too rattled to refuse. Geralt had watched him eat, and it had been equal parts unsettling and endearing.

It was, all in all, a long, difficult day. And it was ridiculous, really, that what made it so difficult was the one thing that Jaskier had been hoping for and dreaming of for - Gods - maybe a decade now. Longer.

Jaskier had wanted Geralt to love him back for years, and now he did... but it wasn’t real. It was all just implanted thoughts, re-wired pathways, magic. Jaskier wished he could believe the things Geralt was saying - wished they were true - but they weren’t, and he knew they weren’t. When Geralt tried, again, to kiss him, all he wanted to do was drop his guard and let himself be kissed, to kiss him back, to press him against the nearest tree and—

But he couldn’t. Because it wasn’t real.

He was put horribly in mind of the djinn. It wasn't that long ago - just over five years - but he hoped he was less of a colossal prick, now. He remembered his misguided wish, borne more of pain and copious amounts of vodka than real feeling, for the Countess to love him again. It had taken less than a day for him to realise how stupid that had been - how unethical - especially after witnessing Geralt's own, world-changing final wish.

Magic and spells and wishes were best left alone, he had decided, especially when feelings were involved.

Virginia, he suspected, had never really loved him to begin with. And Geralt didn't now. He would do well to remember that.

They made camp late into the night. Jaskier had been dreading this moment: at least as they walked there was the distraction of the road, of seeking directions and the monotony of travel. But as soon as they made camp, it would be just them, and the silence of the forest. But he couldn’t put it off any longer - he and Roach were tired, even if Geralt wasn’t, and they needed to rest.

He set up the camp while Geralt set off to find something to eat. It was a routine that was familiar to him, now, played out hundreds of times before: although usually, Geralt didn’t press a kiss to the top of his head before quietly stalking into the woods, his crossbow gripped in one hand.

Jaskier had allowed the kiss. It was almost platonic. Almost. It had made his chest squeeze. It was a wonder that the butterflies in his stomach hadn't died of overexertion.

By the time Geralt had returned he had a good fire going, although the balmy summer night meant that it was only really needed for cooking. Geralt had brought down a pheasant, and they ate sitting side by side - Geralt pressed close against Jaskier’s shoulder.

Geralt really was more talkative than usual. It wasn’t just compliments - although they were certainly made up a large part of his often one-sided conversations - but also passing comments on the weather, their destination, the contract ahead of them and the one they’d just completed.

Jaskier tried, several times, to ask Geralt where he’d gone when he’d vanished that morning. It was the one thing he didn’t seem keen to talk about, barely even acknowledging that he hadn't been at their camp the whole time. Whatever spell Geralt had managed to wander into, it had clearly wiped away the knowledge of the spell itself. How fucking convenient.

High above, the moon shone down on them, and Jaskier yawned. It was late, and he’d risen early upon discovering Geralt missing, and now all he wanted to do was sleep. He just needed a few hours rest, and then tomorrow he’d be better ready to deal with more of Geralt’s unwanted attention.

Not unwanted. Not even a little. But he had to pretend, for both their sakes.

He pulled his bedroll from Roach’s back, spreading it across a patch of ground that seemed free of buried rocks and poking roots. Maybe in the morning things would be better - maybe by then the spell would have worn off.

He didn’t realise how close to him Geralt had placed his own bedroll until he was tugging off his boots.

Sharing sleeping space wasn’t anything new: they’d often share a bed in a fully booked inn, or when the only space available was a poky pallet in some farmer’s loft. In the winter, they’d lay their rolls close to one another beneath the canvas canopy of a tiny tent to better conserve heat, and on the truly cold nights Geralt would allow Jaskier to huddle close, slinging an arm over him to keep him warm.

But it was the middle of summer, now, and there was plenty of room in the clearing to keep a wide space between them.

Jaskier swallowed, watching as Geralt sat, removed his boots, and then began to tug off his shirt as well.

He should say something. He should tell Geralt to move over, a little. He should move himself. He should…

Geralt tossed the shirt aside, his hair cascading over his shoulders, framing his face. In the silver moonlight, it glowed.

Jaskier swallowed heavily. Perhaps… just one night. There was nothing too incriminating about one night, was there? It was nothing they hadn’t done before - hadn’t done a hundred times already.

Geralt peered at him, his yellow eyes flashing. “Are you okay?”

Jaskier made a strangled little noise that he hoped sounded like an affirmation then lay down beside Geralt, pulling his blanket with him.

It took all of three seconds before Geralt had slung his arm - and his blanket - around Jaskier’s middle, pulling him close, nuzzling into his shoulder. It sent shivers up Jaskier’s spine, made his skin prickle into goosebumps, his stomach flipping. He could feel Geralt’s lips on his neck, and - oh gods - it was taking all of his concentration not to get an erection. Fuck.

And then - their bodies pressed together beneath the two blankets, Jaskier’s back flush to Geralt’s chest - he suddenly realised he wasn’t the only one struggling with that particular problem.

He was not thinking about it. He was not thinking about it. He shifted, a little, trying to put space between their bodies. Geralt didn’t chase him - but left his hand on his hip, the weight hot and comforting and horrible all at once.

“I—” Jaskier choked out, words utterly failing him. “Sleep. I’m going to go to sleep.”

Geralt mumbled something at him. It could have been a simple goodnight, or it could have been another I love you. Jaskier didn’t ask for clarification.

He shut his eyes, and totally failed to fall asleep.

The first thing Jaskier heard - before he’d even had a chance to open his eyes - were Geralt’s low, rumbling tones from somewhere close by.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.”

His eyes snapped open. Geralt was lying next to him, inches from his face, staring at him.

Fuck.

He sat up, Geralt tracking his movements, his pupils still wide.

So much for the hope that the spell might have worn off as they slept.

At least they’d made good time yesterday, Jaskier thought, as he began to get ready to head back to the road. They should make it to Vizima by late afternoon, and then this would all be over.

That thought would sting, if he’d allowed himself to enjoy this. But now he just wanted it done - he couldn’t bear this tempting, teasing thing for much longer. They packed quickly, only slightly waylaid by Geralt’s occasional attempts to wrap an arm around him, to press a kiss to his hand, his cheek, his lips. Jaskier was getting better at redirecting him: distracting him or moving him along without being downright dismissive. The spell had a strong hold on him, and while the feelings themselves were imagined, the hurt that Geralt would have felt if Jaskier simply told him to fuck off would be real. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The worst came just before they set out. Jaskier pulled his lute from its case, giving it a cursory check as he always did when he went so long without playing. He ran his fingers over the strings, inspected the wood, then hoisted it into his lap to play a few chords. Geralt watched him as he worked with an intense, unbroken expression.

When the final ringing note of the chords died away, reverberating through the trees, Geralt knelt forwards, slowly lifted Jaskier’s hand from the strings and placed a gentle, lingering kiss to Jaskier’s fingertips.

For a long moment, it felt like it might have been real. Geralt’s eyes were wide and he wore an expression that made Jaskier’s chest ache with a want he thought he’d learnt to suppress years ago. Geralt’s lips were soft - so much softer than he would have guessed.

It couldn’t last. He had to pull away, and soon they found themselves back on the road.

Jaskier was glad that the journey was largely uneventful, aside from Geralt’s sudden infatuation: the littlest surprise or shock would likely kill him, he feared. He felt like he’d been strung himself, like his lute - like there were vibrating chords running inside him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Every so often, Jaskier would ask Geralt if he was alright - no, really, Geralt - and Geralt would look at him like he’d gone mad.

It was infuriating that he couldn’t see it. Although at least this way it would save the inevitable embarrassment for later.

It was just gone midday when they reached the high city walls of Vizima. Jaskier had resisted the urge to stop and rest - convincing Geralt easily that there’d be time for that when they were in the city itself. He’d nearly jogged the final few miles, feeling ever-more desperate.

Before Geralt could suggest they find the woman who’d been asking for a witcher, Jaskier pulled him aside.

“We should go and see Triss.”

“What?”

“We should… I want to go and see Triss.”

Geralt stared at him, incredulously. And then realistation. “Not this again, Jaskier. I’m not acting strange, or whatever you think is happening.”

Fuck. “Just… humour me? Please?”

He gave Geralt one of his best smiles - lowered lashes, slight pout. It was a low blow, he knew, but if it worked…

“Fine.”

Thankfully, it didn’t take too much effort to find Triss - she’d taken up residence in apartments just beyond the palace, and Jaskier had found the guard who’d given him directions to her home surprisingly relaxed about the presence of magic users in his city.

“I don’t know why you’re worrying,” Geralt said, as they walked through the city after stabling Roach.

“Something’s wrong with you, Geralt.”

“I feel fine.”

“So you keep saying,” Jaskier sighed.

“Are you alright?”

Jaskier swallowed back a bitter laugh at that. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“You’re not yourself.”

“That makes two of us,” he muttered.

Geralt reached out his hand, and Jaskier took it - he wouldn’t dream of not taking it, now.

“I lov—”

“I know.” He spoke over Geralt, his words snipped and sharp, then felt instantly guilty. “Sorry, Geralt. Sorry. I’m just…” he sighed. “I’m just tired.”

They made their way to Triss’ home in silence, hands linked, and by the time Jaskier was hammering on her door he was ready to simply drop Geralt off and go and find the nearest tavern in which he could drink himself silly while she dealt with the spell. Perhaps that would be best for both of them - he could remove himself from the situation, get himself lost in the city, and when Geralt came back to himself he wouldn’t be forced to deal with the awkwardness.

Geralt would be able to leave the city and return to the path fully cured - without ever needing to acknowledge what had happened. He wouldn't even be forced to say goodbye.

Finally, the door was opened: not by Triss, but an older woman with white hair and a deep red dress who appeared to be a housekeeper of some sort.

“Please,” Jaskier said, before she could speak, “we need to see Triss. We’re friends of hers.”

Perhaps it was the desperation in his voice, but the woman merely nodded and showed them into the entryway of the house before disappearing upstairs.

“You’re worried,” said Geralt, in the silence.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I…” For a moment, Jaskier considered lying. But after all this… there was a chance that Geralt could simply drop him. He didn’t want one of their last conversations to be a dishonest one. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

Geralt squeezed his hand. “That’s not going to happen.”

He said it with such conviction. Jaskier wished he could be that sure about anything.

“We’ll see.”

There was the noise above of a door opening, and then Triss appeared at the top of the wide staircase. Jaskier let out a sigh of relief - they were so close to getting this thing fixed, at last. Her eyebrows rose as she spotted them standing hand-in-hand in her hallway, her lips twitching into a cheeky half smile.

“Are congratulations in order?” She said.

Jaskier quickly let Geralt’s hand go, feeling suddenly untethered without the grip.

“Can I…” he shot a look at Geralt. It would be best, he suspected, to explain to Triss what was happening without him hovering over his shoulder. “Can we talk?” He said, quickly. “Alone?”

Triss frowned, but seemed to understand that this was a more delicate matter. She led them both upstairs, then ushered Jaskier into a side room while Geralt waited outside. She kept glancing at Geralt in an almost analytical way, her face set in a neat frown.

“What’s going on?” She said, as soon as the door had shut. “Something’s wrong with—”

“With Geralt, I know.” Jaskier fell into the nearest empty chair, head in his hands. “He’s been cursed. Or… or someone’s put a spell on him, or given him a potion, or something. I don’t know. He went off, and when I found him again he was acting… like this.” He sighed. “It’s a love spell, I think.”

“A love spell?”

“Well, how else would you explain it?” He was getting angry, his voice raising. “This isn't right, Triss. He’s not supposed to—”

“To act like that? With you?”

“No!” He took another breath, trying to calm himself. “He’s not himself. This isn’t right, and I need… he needs it to be lifted, or cured, or whatever it is you do with love spells.”

“And you’re sure it’s a love spell?”

“Positive. I just… I just want him to be himself again.”

She peered at him, curiously. “Is that what you want?”

He felt like he was going to be sick. “It’s what I need,” he said, quietly. “What I want is irrelevant.”

She nodded. “I’ll see what can be done. Do you want to stay while I figure it out?”

“Is he… will he remember these past two days?”

“He will.”

“And if I don’t stay… can you do it alone?”

“Of course.”

“Then… best not. I don’t want to make it difficult for him, when he realises what an ass he’s made of himself…”

“I don’t think—”

“Is there a tavern, near here? Somewhere I can wait?”

“Yes, but—”

He stood. “Come and find me, after. If you need me. If he… if he asks where I’ve gone.”

He didn’t finish that thought - he won’t ask, though - but instead saw himself out. Geralt was waiting for him just beyond the door, still looking nervous.

“Right,” said Jaskier, clapping his hands together in an attempt to look cheery. “I’ve got a few things to pick up in the city, so I’m going to leave you in Triss’ capable hands” —he gestured at the sorceress, who gave him a displeased look— “while I… do that.”

Geralt frowned, but seemed to accept this. “Alright.”

“Ah… see you later, Geralt.”

“Wait—”

Jaskier turned at the top of the stairs. “Yes?”

Geralt made his way towards him, closing the gap quickly. He took Jaskier’s face in his hands, and for once, Jaskier didn’t try to escape the grip. He was so close.

“I love you.”

It was all Jaskier could do not to burst into tears. “Yeah,” he said, voice shaking a little. “I kno—”

“No. You’re not…” Geralt sighed, clearly frustrated. “I love you, Jaskier. Really.”

Jaskier managed a strained smile. Would it be wrong to say it back? Would it only make it worse when the curse was lifted - when Geralt was forced to realise the gap between how they saw each other?

“I…” he floundered in the conversation, drowning in the depths of his emotions - worsened by the torrent of Geralt’s false ones. Over Geralt’s shoulder, Triss was watching them - her expression a little sad. “I… yeah. Good. Very good.”

And then he pulled himself away, hurried down the stairs, and threw himself out of the house without another look back. The door slammed behind him, and he hoped the sound muffled the sob that escaped from his lips.

Don’t touch mysterious boxes in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t the first rule of witchering, but it was probably so obvious that Vesemir didn’t think it needed to be written down.

Don’t explore elven ruins if you don’t already know what’s in them. That would be the second rule, followed closely by a third: If a mysterious force is compelling you to do any of the above, ignore it, for fuck’s sake.

Geralt was still asleep when the urge forced him from his bedroll. He was standing outside the ruined rubble of the once grand castle before he’d even realised what he was doing.

He was fully awake by the time he’d kicked the dirt away from the half buried box and pulled it from the ground. Really, he should have known better.

He certainly shouldn’t have forced it open with his dagger, shattering the lock.

Geralt wasn’t sure how he’d returned to camp. One moment he’d been outside the elven ruins, holding that mysterious box in his hands, the moon high above, and the next he’d been sat on a fallen tree by the spent fire, basking in the early morning sunshine, waiting for something.

Waiting for…

Jaskier.

Of course.

His head felt lighter than it had in an age, a tension dropped from his shoulders. It was like in some dark corner of his mind a shackle had come loose, a cage had opened. A bound man, freed at last. It was like a trickle of water leaking through a worn dam.

When Jaskier arrived, out of breath and worried looking, the dam burst. He said something about being worried, about where were you, about… about nothing important, as far as Geralt could tell: at least not as important as the way his cheekbones were flushed pink or the way his hair stood around his head or the inviting red plumpness of his lips. Geralt was struck with a million memories at once - a million times he’d wanted, but done nothing, holding himself back.

Those shackles that had fallen away - that door, opened - they’d been restraints of his own making, and now they were gone.

Of course Geralt tried to kiss Jaskier. Why would he ever have done anything else?

Jaskier pulled away. That hurt - it hurt in that bone deep way that all rejection did - but it was an understandable reaction. Geralt had kept the truth caged for so long that Jaskier had never seen it before. It was too much, too soon.

Unfortunately, Geralt seemed suddenly incapable of anything that wasn’t too much.

“I love you.”

“You— excuse me?”

“I love you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked at him, doubt clouding his handsome face. “....no you don’t,” he said, drawing the words out.

“I do.”

He blinked at him. “Right…”

Jaskier didn’t say it back. But he didn’t say he didn’t love him, either.

Geralt found himself talking. Every thought he had seemed to spill out, every passing feeling and observation tumbling from his mouth before he could stop it. When Jaskier stood, silhouetted in the sun, his chemise nearly transparent in the dazzling light, he was beautiful - and Geralt said so.

“Are you… alright?” Jaskier said cautiously, as they made their way back to the road.

“I’m fine,” Geralt said, because it was the truth.

Jaskier peered at him, unconvinced. He licked his lips. That urge returned - Geralt had to kiss him. He had to. But Jaskier backed away again, neatly dodging his lips with a soft little smile.

Jaskier didn’t seem to be offended by the attempt, even if he was being reticent with his own feelings, and he held Geralt’s hand as they walked towards Vizima and the next contract - something about a woman and a creature lurking in her basement. The touch was electric, and Geralt was loath to let go every time Jaskier moved away, or when they stopped to eat. It confused him, too: If Jaskier didn't want him, he needed to say, not hold his hand and smile at him.

As they walked, he could hear Jaskier’s heartbeat quicken in his chest. He was carrying the scent of fear with him, although it was hard to detect over the smell of blooming summer flowers and the dusty road. He asked Geralt, again - and again - if he was alright. He gave him curious looks, told him in both euphemism and in explicit, pointed words that Geralt was acting oddly.

Geralt couldn’t see it. He told Jaskier that he was fine - that nothing was different, nothing was odd. It was clear that Jaskier didn’t believe him, and the smell of anxiety never really went away.

A couple of times they were approached by other travellers, and Geralt scared them off with his typical scowl. He grabbed handfuls of celandine growing at the side of the road to be used in his potions later. When they stopped for the night, he honed his senses into a fine point and hunted down a pheasant to be roasted for their evening meal. He felt wholly normal.

It was, perhaps, that Jaskier wasn’t used to Geralt’s best approximation of flirting. But he wasn’t turning him away either - at least not in so many words. Geralt had been witness to Jaskier’s romantic exploits more times than he cared to count, and he’d seen Jaskier himself employ similar tactics - purposeful avoidance or enduring persistence. It was like a game. Both methods seemed to work: or at least, they worked for Jaskier.

But of course they did. He was Jaskier. Who couldn’t want Jaskier?

He said that thought out loud, although there was no one there to hear aside from the dead pheasant slung over his shoulder.

That night, after they’d eaten, they slept pressed against each other on the hard ground. Geralt had always cherished the small scraps of comfort he had with Jaskier - sharing a bed in an inn, or huddling for warmth on a long winter night. He’d always been hesitant to suggest such closeness when it wasn’t necessary, but tonight… it was different, somehow.

He spread his bedroll on the ground next to Jaskier’s, half expecting him to tell him to move away, but he didn’t. Geralt had grabbed the opportunity with both hands - almost literally. When Jaskier had shuffled a little further away, expanding the gap between their bodies, it had stung, but Geralt understood.

He tried to understand. He’d seen Jaskier meet someone, fall in love with them, and declare them his soulmate in a matter of hours. That speed didn’t seem to apply to whatever it was that was happening between them. It made him twist with jealousy, which he tried to bite down.

He slept soundly, for once, and awoke early as usual, the golden morning sun just starting to rise. Shafts of crisp light shone through the trees and across their camp, illuminating Jaskier’s sleeping face.

"Gods," it had slipped out without him even realising. "You're gorgeous."

Jaskier's eyes fluttered open. They were bright blue in the sunlight. He didn’t have a chance to appreciate them before Jaskier sat up, blinking, his clothing dishevelled and his skin flushed.

He didn’t acknowledge the compliment - didn’t say anything - but began to tidy their things away, muttering about how they needed to move on. Geralt felt like he was seeing him for the very first time - every small movement, every little expression, every gesture, made Geralt want to wrap his arms around him and keep him, forever.

He was quickly learning what Jaskier would accept. A kiss to the head - he’d allowed Geralt that much last night, before he’d set off to find food. He was amenable to those to the cheek, too, but only if they were quick. When he’d pulled his lute out of its case, giving it a quick once-over to check it hadn’t been damaged from travel, Geralt couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his finger-tips.

That - that was the best of all. Jaskier had frozen, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted. It had only lasted a moment, but it had felt like an age, where the only thing in the world was Jaskier’s steady gaze and the feeling of his fingers on Geralt’s lips.

All of Jaskier’s dismissals - all the times he’d turned his head away at a compliment or a kiss or a whispered I love you - seemed to fade into insignificance compared to the way he was looking at him, then.

It couldn’t last. Soon Jaskier was on his feet, the lute packed away, the camp abandoned as they headed back to the road.

Jaskier was behaving oddly. The closer they got to the city, the jumpier he was becoming. As they passed through the Northern gates, his nerves had clearly become too much.

“We should go and see Triss.”

This, again. Why couldn’t Jaskier see that there was nothing wrong with him? But Jaskier’s nerves were close to bubbling over, and he gave Geralt that look that he’d perfected over the years - an expression Geralt found hard to turn down.

He agreed to see the sorceress, if just to put Jaskier’s mind at ease. He tried not to dwell on it, when Jaskier insisted on seeing her alone. And when he came out of her chambers, both of them looking worried, instead of coming back to Geralt’s side like he’d come to expect... he tried to leave.

Something was wrong.

Geralt stopped him before he could head down the stairs, taking his face in his hands so he could see him - really see him.

“I love you.”

He’d told Jaskier he loved him several times, now - the truth hot and urgent and burning his throat. But Jaskier, every time, had responded with the same two words.

I know.

Geralt cut him off before he could, this time. He tried to make him see. It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t just something he was saying. It was true: it was a raw, unbound truth, as fragile as blowball, as tender as a bruise.

“Really,” he said. It was, he feared, the last attempt of a desperate man.

But Jaskier didn’t say it back. He said it was good, and he left.

It was abundantly clear that Geralt’s feelings were not reciprocated. Jaskier didn’t love him. It was hard to believe that he even liked him. Those moments on the road - the clasped hands, the quiet acceptance of his compliments, Jaskier’s fingers on his lips - had all been… an act, perhaps. Trying not to break Geralt’s heart too much. He heard the door slam downstairs, and he turned to Triss, who gently took his arm with a calm expression on her face.

“Why don’t you tell me how you feel?” She said, leading him into her room.

He did. The words kept coming, tumbling over one another, impossible to stop: love and pain tangled together. Triss just watched him, the whole time, lips pursed. Occasionally, she would nod.

Finally, she pulled a drawer from the chest behind her and pulled out a little vial of dark liquid. She put it on the table in front of him.

“The truth is a hard thing to contain,” she said, tapping her fingers on the wooden tabletop. “It’s cruel. But it can be beautiful, too, if you let it.” She uncorked the bottle. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Afterwards, Geralt stood in the street, people shoving past him. He felt bound once more - but it wasn’t an unwelcome feeling. There was a safety to it that he’d missed these past couple of days.

“You know,” Triss had said, before he left. “He thought it was a love spell.” Geralt had only frowned at her. “There’s a tavern, across the street and to the left, past the blacksmith. You should probably talk to him.”

It took Geralt a good half an hour to actually enter the tavern, even though Triss’ directions had been deliberately clear. He lingered outside for a while - half-hoping that he could catch Jaskier leaving, doubting the good sense in even going after him in the first place.

But he couldn’t hesitate all day, lurking on the street like a criminal, waiting for something to happen to him. Despite everything telling him it was a shitty idea, he pushed the door to the tavern open, scanning the room.

It was easy to find Jaskier. He could have found him anywhere. Geralt knew the scent of his perfume that mingled with the oils he used in his hair and the comforting, warming smell of his skin beneath it all - a smell so unique it could have been a fingerprint. There was his heart, too: like a familiar tune played on a simple drum. Geralt could have found him blindfolded.

He was sitting in a far corner, a half-finished pint of ale on the table in front of him. He appeared to have been nursing the same drink since entering - he certainly didn’t smell drunk, or even tipsy.

Jaskier looked up as he approached. His eyes, Geralt realised, were red. There was a salty smell hovering over him.

“Geralt,” he sniffed, a little brokenly. “Feeling better?”

“Much.” Geralt hovered beside the table, unable to decide if he should sit.

“Triss… Cured you? Lifted the spell or broke the curse or… whatever it is she does?”

“She did.”

Jaskier nodded. “Good,” he said. He appeared to mean it. “I, ah— Love spells, huh?” He forced a laugh that didn’t quite ring true to Geralt’s ears.

Geralt hesitated. There was a crossroads, ahead of him. He needed to pick a direction.

“Are you finished?” He motioned towards Jaskier’s beer.

Jaskier looked at the offending drink like he’d forgotten it was even there. “Oh,” he said, slowly. “I… I’m done.”

“Walk with me?”

For a moment, Geralt thought Jaskier would refuse.

“Sure.”

They headed back into the street in silence. They walked from the busier part of the city towards the edge of the lake, and the low, dusk sunlight bounced from its surface in shimmering arcs.

The silence felt constricting after a day and a half of Geralt being unable to control his chattering - like something was missing. Those thoughts were still there, of course, at the back of his mind: the way the light caught Jaskier’s hair, the way his doublet fit across his shoulders, the way his eyes - even when red and puffy - sparkled. Geralt wasn’t forced to say those thoughts out loud, anymore. He could keep them in his chest, behind his teeth, where they belonged.

He thought of Triss’ words to him as he watched Jaskier lean against the low stone wall, gazing out across the water.

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier turned. The setting sun lit him up with an orange glow.

“You’re beautiful, Jask.”

He frowned. “I thought you said that Triss—”

“She did.” He took a cautious step closer. Jaskier didn’t back away. “But you were wrong.”

“Wrong how?”

“It wasn’t a love spell.”

The frown deepened. “Then… then what was it?”

“A truth spell.” Geralt paused. “A curse, really.”

Jaskier stared at him, his lips parted as if stuck around a word. There were only a couple of inches between them, and they both stepped forwards at once. Geralt reached up, his hand gently cupping the curve of Jaskier’s jaw. Jaskier hesitated, just for a moment, before leaning into the touch.

Geralt remembered his unfettered behaviour of the past day and a half - his total lack of inhibitions - the curse making him act without considering how Jaskier had felt about his wayward affections.

He had to ask. He had to ask, because the answer might be no.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jaskier didn’t even respond, just surged forwards, crashing their lips together. Geralt wrapped his arms around him instinctively, pulling him as close as he could, all the sensation and feeling in his body focused on the point where their mouths met. It was not a beautiful kiss - too messy, too eager, the result of two days of heightened, unavoidable truths and two decades of growing, slowly nurtured feelings.

It was good, Geralt knew - it was so good. So right.

He pulled away, although he didn’t want to. Jaskier was breathless beneath his hands, staring at him, waiting for more.

Geralt kissed him again - just once - soft and quick.

“I love you, Jaskier.”

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #love spells #cursed!geralt #pining #magic #jaskier deals with geralt suddenly having Feelings #and has a terrible time of it

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