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#hope that's not a bad omen lol

concreteburialplot · 1 year

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VIRALITY - Bad Omens

𝐯𝐢·𝐫𝐚𝐥·𝐢·𝐭𝐲

/ˌ𝐯īˈ𝐫𝐚𝐥ə𝐝ē/

𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐥. 𝐈𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

When successful media marketing and publicity manager Valerie Thornhill is offered a unique opportunity to take on an up & coming alternative band, she hesitates. With the entire band against her, she struggles to navigate through managing her newest clients - especially when some warm up to her quicker than others.

Nicholas Ruffilo x fem!oc

Noah Sebastian x fem!oc

18+ only even tho i’m not sure yet if i feel comfortable writing smut for this fandom - the content is still mature regardless

(edit; totally lied, i'm def writing smut, any smut chapters will have a * by the title lol)

01 - Business Offer

02 - Small Venues

03 - Rehearsal

04 - Rained In

05 - Team Building Exercises

06 - Whiplash*

07 - Heartthrob Strategy

08 - Play Along

09 - Lavender Haze*

10 - Maybe Both, Maybe Neither

11 - Peak Fashion

Crossposted:

-> ao3

-> Wattpad

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ephiesoul · 4 months

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Chibi Ino Takuma from JJK for my new pfp going into the New Year! 🎉 bestest boi! Pretty fond of how it turned out 🥂💜

#chibi #fanart #chibi art #art #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanart #ino takuma #takuma Ino fanart #Now I sure hope Gege doesn’t kill him or it’s gonna feel like a bad omen for me for the new year.. lol #pfp #EphieSoul

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caramelmochacrow · 1 year

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Traumerei shares the same name with a piano piece composed by Schumann, in English it means "dreaming".

(Since I dont understand Japanese and no one has translated it because it was just released yesterday, I can only guess from the instruments and the tone of Tsubaki's voice.)

The piano piece Traumerei is slow, almost melancholic, as if the composer wanted to escape the pain they were feeling but can only dream.

Comparing that to Rondo's, which is fast and sounds almost desperate, like a plea to escape and be freed into the dream world (paradise) they desire.

But, unlike Schumann's, they act upon it, they try to find way to escape, a way for them to fly away, and be freed.

Interesting thing to note, in the beginning of the music video it shows a white feather -- probably from a dove -- falling down.

Doves are known to symbolize peace, but since it's falling down, it might mean the dove died because there isn't any peace anymore.

Doves are also important in the Bible, while Noah and his family were in his ark, they sent out birds to try to find a hint of dry land, they sent out a crow and it never came back (it is implied that the crow was too busy eating the dead bodies of the people who drowned to come back), they sent out another bird and it didn't come back either, so as one final try, one last sign of hope, they sent out the dove and it came back with a single tree branch, a sign of dry land.

So I guess you could say, if the dove, a sign of hope and peace, were to die, there would be desperate people stuck in a world of chaos and hopelessness.

But that's probably nothing, I just remembered that right now, might as well give you a bird fact.

Anyway, back to Schumann and Rondo!

Schumann's sounds like someone dreaming of a world they want to escape to, while Rondo's sounds like they dreamed of a world, and are willing to do anything it took to reach it.

#crow talks #d4dj #i forgot to put the tag lol #i did not reasarch much bc im on my phone but yeah #i might make a little deep dive thing into Traumerei once someone translates it #all of rondo's songs have one thing in common #it's all about how they are desperate to change the world/escape from it.#also how much the world hates them but yeah #quite interesting.#ALSO #in traumerei (rondo) they brought up number 13 #which is normally seen as bad luck #i hope the song isnt abt how the singer thinks their bad omen!#like a crow....#hm.#oh yeah i might use the stuff i said here in my deep dive lol #idk depends

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phyrestartr · 8 days

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Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (TEASER)

#full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, typical canon violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS

A/N: this fic is so long rn lol I just have to release a piece of it into the wild :sob: feel free to reply if you want to be tagged for the full story when it's ready

☆☆☆

You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails.

Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful?

Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him.

They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him.

Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing.

“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces.

You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud.

What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–

“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.

“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.

“They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated. “They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.”

The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature.

The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him.

“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make.

Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you.

That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape.

“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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nyx-lyris · 1 year

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my encanto analysis/headcanon that no one asked for

so, i was just looking through some encanto fanart and headcanons and came across this piece (artist: https://mobile.twitter.com/ye_enc):

abuela had triplets - julieta, pepa, and bruno. both julieta and pepa had three kids - isabella, luisa, and mirabel for julieta, and dolores, camilo, and antonio for pepa.

what i noticed is that for each batch of three, each individual falls under a certain category, and it seems to follow by age.

julieta was, as this lovely fanart shows, likely depended on quite frequently for her ability to heal via her cooking. her gift would have been the most useful and therefore she likely would have been praised the most as “the perfect one”.

this, of course, next falls to isabella, who we see this with the most frequently. abuela very clearly is living the life she wished she could have lived through isabella, and is viewed as the perfect golden child by everyone around her.

dolores is a little different, but i believe she still fits the trope. she is basically the physical embodiment of “seen but not heard.” she keeps quiet on the things she knows would upset her family and doesn’t make herself heard, even when she is in pain, whether physical or emotional. she doesn’t tell anyone that she knows bruno has been living in the walls for the ten years he’s been missing; she doesn’t tell anyone about her feelings for mariano, because she knows that will upset abuela and her cousin’s “perfect for the encanto” arrangement; and one can only imagine how loud certain things are to her, that are endurable for us (fireworks, for example).

next are the middle children: pepa, luisa, and camilo. all of them have some kind of pressure on their shoulders. (and - just a fun thing i noticed - while luisa’s literal pressure is the many things she carries, pepa’s pressure is atmospheric pressure, because she controls the weather. but anyway, lol).

all three of these characters are told in one way or another to bottle up their emotions and keep them buried inside. with pepa, we see this very directly as she is constantly told by the other characters (especially abuela) to, as the fanart above shows, calm down and essentially turn off her emotions because of the damage she can cause with her weather powers. this kind of reminds me of the “conceal, don’t feel” thing that elsa had with her gloves. both pepa and elsa demonstrate the same growth throughout their movies, too - learning to accept themselves and their abilities and thus being able to control them instead of being controlled by them - but, i digress.

luisa, by contrast, is indirectly told to keep her emotions at bay. she is treated as something of a useful tool, both by the town and by abuela, and seen in a very masculine light despite her relatively feminine personality. because of this treatment and the expectation that she will always be strong that comes with it, she falls into the same category as pepa.

camilo, like dolores, is a little different, but still fits. we don’t see much of him in the movie, but i imagine he is depended on as being the funny one. if anyone reading this is into k-pop or bts, think of camilo as like the j-hope or the jin of the group. he’s always expected to be funny and smiling, lifting everyone else’s spirits - but who lifts his spirits?

and lastly, we have the youngest siblings - bruno, mirabel, and antonio. they fit into the roll, of course, of the scapegoat, of family disappointments.

bruno was rejected by the town and by his family, seen as a harbinger of chaos and horror, a bad omen - all because he can see the future, something that he obviously cannot control. but, of course, it’s easier to simply blame someone else than accept the truth or take responsibility for your own actions.

mirabel, of course, is treated in much the same way. she is seen as a bad omen, as well, and is quite literally feared to be the one who will destroy the family and the encanto, because of bruno’s vision.

antonio does not quite fit into this category, but i think if he had not gotten a gift, he would have been shunned in much the same way as bruno or mirabel. it can also be argued that his gift isn’t really very useful, and we can see abuela struggle for a moment to think of how they could put his gift to use at the breakfast at the beginning of the movie (”i told them to warm up your seat”).

anyway - this is all to say that each of the siblings in each of the batches of three appears to fill (or almost fill) the same rolls. i’m sure someone else has already noticed this and i’m just late to the party - but i thought it was cool.

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ro-is-struggling · 7 months

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The Ballad of Orpheus and Eurydice || Geralt of Rivia x nymph!reader

REQUESTED

Summary: Life was good when Geralt was by her side. They were in love and happy... Until they weren't and she was left alone once again. After spending so much time under his protection, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was for creatures like her. Sad and heartbroken, she was unable to defend herself when the men came for her. Now locked up far away from her forest, she only hoped that her loved protector would come to her rescue.

Warnings: angst (with happy ending), major character death, reader gets imprisoned by a evil dude (I don't know how to tag this lol but I think it’s important to mention that she’s forced to serve him), fluff (it’s not all sad, I promise), forest nymph!reader, fem!reader, let me know if I missed anything!

English is not my first language

Word count: 12.700 (it's a long one)

Notes: A few things to have in mind while reading: It follows the timeline very loosely, and Geralt and Yen's relationship never got to that solid point in s3 cause it's not real love, just the product of Geralt binding their fates together with that wish

She never imagined that her story would end like this, locked in a cold and humid dungeon far away from her forest. Nymphs were not immortal beings —something she had come close to verifying several times in her long years on the continent—, so the idea of her inevitable end was something that she had thought about from time to time. It was not something that haunted her obsessively, but every once in a while her mind would wander to the imagining of the end of her days.

She lived a quiet life, making sure to be cautious around any unwanted people who passed through her forest. She had no enemies, at least not ones powerful enough to present a real danger to her. So she always imagined that she would die a peaceful death, slowly fading away as her birth tree withered away after having completed its cycle on this earth. If not, she imagined she would die a heroic death as she fought the greedy humans to prevent the destruction of her forest. Both scenarios brought her a sense of comfort in a way, because they showed that she had fulfilled her life's mission, the purpose for which she had been placed on the continent.

She never imagined that the end of her days would actually be so dark and torturous, forced to live in captivity away from her home and everything she loved. She never thought she would miss the feel of the wind on her face, or the warmth of the early morning sun, or the sweet scent of flowers in the spring. She had never imagined herself living anywhere but her forest, but that was an option that had been taken away from her the moment King Elian's men set foot in her home.

She had heard rumors of his infamous reputation from the mouths of other frightened nymphs. His name inspired terror among magical creatures, who chose to call him The Hunter as if the mere mention of his name was a sign of bad omens. He was known for his obsession with magical creatures and what he did with them after capturing them. Despite what his nickname implied, he did not always chase a magical creature to kill it and display some part of its body as a hunting trophy. No. There was a fate far more horrible and obscure than that, and that was to end up as a piece of his collection, just another exhibit, forced to smile in his presence and perform for his entertainment whenever he wanted it. It was the terrible fate that had unfortunately fallen upon her.

In the past she had not seen King Elian as a threat. His kingdom was on the other side of the continent and while he used to go on hunting trips when he heard rumors of a creature in his vicinity, he had never ventured this far before. Besides, she was under the protection of one of the continent's fiercest witchers, so she knew no one would dare mess with her. No one who knew Geralt of Rivia would dare to challenge him, and the poor bastards who, out of ignorance or arrogance did, usually didn't live to tell the tale. The bond they had was strong, a love unlike any she had ever experienced in her many years of life, so she never thought there would be a day when she would wake up without him by her side.

"The king requires your presence." A guard announced from her cell door, snapping her out of her thoughts. She rose to her feet reluctantly, stepping up to the bars so he could put the handcuffs on her before unlocking her cell. The dimeritium on her wrists was engraved with the same symbols as the bars of the box in which she spent her days. It was a powerful incantation that weakened her magic so that she could not use her powers to escape. It was painful since the metal burned her skin, but she had learned the hard way not to complain.

The guard led her to the throne room, where the king was shouting directions to the group of servants working on decorating the place, changing the curtains and adding chairs and tables to the sides of the room. She had been there long enough to know that the castle was being prepared for a feast, though she did not know what the celebratory occasion was.

She forced herself to bow when the king's eyes fell upon her figure, though her expression showed how little respect she truly had for him. "Your majesty." She murmured as a learned response as she lowered her gaze to the ground.

"I hope you used your time in the dungeon to reflect on your attitude." His voice was firm, almost as if he was still angry with her for refusing to comply with his demands almost a week ago when he had wanted to use her to entertain the king of the neighboring kingdom who had come to visit. "You have to understand that you belong to me. You are here to serve me and the only reason you are not dead already is that I find you useful. But that can change and it depends entirely on how you behave. Do I make myself clear?"

She clenched her jaw, biting her tongue to avoid causing a scene that would undoubtedly send her straight to the dungeon again. "Yes, my king." She wasn't able to look him in the eye as she spoke as she didn't want to see the satisfaction in his expression.

"As a demonstration of my great generosity and compassion, I have decided to give you a second chance to prove your loyalty. But do not mistake my mercy for stupidity for this will be your last chance to prove your worth to me. If you say or do anything out of place you will know the sharp blade of my sword."

After she submissively assured him that she understood the seriousness of his words, he explained that he needed her to take care of some of the preparations for the feast in honor of his daughter. During the week the entire kingdom had participated in the celebrations for the girl's fifteenth birthday, an event that would culminate with a grand banquet in the evening. She would be in charge of preparing the floral arrangements that would decorate the entire palace as well as being responsible for the main entertainment since there was nothing to match the singing of a nymph. But in addition, the king put her on a special task. He wanted to give his daughter a beautiful garden with different types of flowers —one for each year of her life—, and she was the perfect person for the job. She accepted without question, not so much because she valued her life or feared reprisals if she refused, but rather because after being locked up for so long she missed being in contact with nature.

"If it's alright with you, my lord, I would like to start with the garden." She said in the most respectful way possible, explaining that with her powers weakened it was the task that would take the most work.

She was escorted by a group of half a dozen guards, who grabbed her roughly by the arms and dragged her through the castle corridors to the garden. Normally she would have complained about their mistreatment, but it all stopped mattering to her when she felt the gentle breeze hit the skin of her face. It was a wonderful feeling smelling the wet dirt in the air and hearing the birds singing after having spent so much time locked up in the deepest part of the castle. It almost felt like freedom.

Working in the garden awakened a bittersweet feeling in her. On the one hand, it was the most comfortable she had been since she arrived at the castle. Walking barefoot on the grass, feeling the earth between her toes and the flowers growing under her hands was as close to home as she had ever been. It was liberating in a way, putting her powers to good use and connecting with the nature she missed so much. But, on the other hand, it was also a reminder of all that she had lost, the life she would never get back. As much as she loved being outside after so many days locked up, she couldn't help but notice that nothing felt like home. The flowers didn't smell the same, the grass under her feet wasn't as soft, and even the birds didn't sing the same. That wasn't her home. This was not her forest.

As she buried her hands in the ground, she couldn't help but question what she was doing, and more importantly, why she was doing it. Sure, avoiding further punishment for disobeying the king's orders was a valid motivation, but was it really worth it? Why was she trying to preserve her life when the only future she had was to live locked up there forever? Was dying such a terrible fate when the alternative was imprisonment and slavery? A life away from her home, forced to indulge the whims of a power-hungry monster was no life at all, so why was she there obeying the orders of that disgusting man?

Then she realized that she still held out hope of escaping. Her spirit wasn't completely crushed and her love for Geralt wasn't entirely gone, so even if it was foolish, she still hoped he would show up to rescue her. They hadn't seen each other for over a year, since that sad day when their story had met an abrupt end after he confessed to her that there was another woman in his life, but she still held out hope of seeing him again. She dreamed of seeing his long white hair move in the air as he skillfully knocked down the guards that separated them and freed her from her confinement. How could she not when he had been her savior on more than one occasion? In fact, that was how they had met.

She was frightened and hurt the first time she saw him, trapped in a cage with symbols carved into the bars. It was a powerful spell that weakened her powers just like the shackles of dimeritium around her wrists. The cage was too small for her, a confined space where she could barely stretch her legs or sit up straight if she wanted to. A group of well-trained men had managed to capture her, taking advantage of her distraction and temporary weakness to lock her up and take her back to their master. She was so terrified that when she heard Geralt's sword clash with that of one of her attackers, she curled up in a corner, her body folding in on itself in an attempt to make herself small and invisible to the group of fighting men.

She recognized immediately that he was a witcher and that brought her no relief. While his kind generally didn't tend to see nymphs as dangerous monsters —as long as they behaved and didn't do anything to end up on their list, of course— she didn't feel completely safe in the presence of a witcher. She tended to hide on the occasions when one passed through her forest, believing it was best to stay away from people like that just in case. After all, they were monster hunters, a concept that, in her experience, meant something different to each individual and there was no way of knowing for sure if she fell into that category or not. So, even though he had overpowered her captors, she still felt fear when he approached.

Geralt felt that fear as soon as he took a step towards her, it was almost as strong as the power and magic that flowed from her being. Her beauty alone was enough to let him know that she was a nymph of the forest. Behind the earth and blood, hidden in a grimace of terror, were the delicate features that the witcher had only seen in the creatures of her kind that he had encountered in the past. The nymphs had a certain look, a special glow that distinguished them from the rest of the magical beings on the continent. They were also one of the gentlest and most peaceful creatures on the continent, focused only on protecting their homes and turning to violence only as a last defense mechanism. That was why Geralt did not sense a drop of evil in her. And that was also why he set out to free her from her confinement.

Even though her captors lay dead on the ground, she still looked terrified, her eyes glassy with tears and her lower lip trembling as she struggled to hold back a sob. When he approached her, the nymph snuggled further into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest in a protective manner. He raised his hands in the air in an attempt to show her that he was not going to hurt her, walking slowly toward the cage so he could release her. It was then that he noticed the symbols on the bars and the dimeritium shackles, which helped him understand how she had ended up there and why she was so scared. She was in a position of extreme vulnerability without her magic and, despite having saved her, he was a complete stranger who could very well cause her more trouble. So the witcher made an effort to appear friendly and non-threatening.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He told her to try to calm her down, though it wasn't much help. She curled further into the corner of the cage, hugging her legs to her chest and looking up at him with watchful eyes from between her knees.

"I know what you are." She answered him, the fear clear in her voice. "You are a witcher, you kill-"

"Monsters, yes." Geralt spoke for her. "But you are not one of them. You're safe with me."

At that moment she had no way of knowing what kind of impact those words would have on her life and how genuine they were. She accepted his help because she had no other choice, but time would show her how fortunate she had been to cross paths with Geralt. At first he played hard to get, barely speaking as she nursed his wounds once her powers stabilized. She'd had to resort to using her charms a little to soften that hard exterior of his, but once Geralt began to open up to her, she discovered the man he truly was.

Geralt tended to lean into rumors about himself and his kind, pretending to be emotionless and not caring about anything or anyone but himself. But that was all an act, a protective shield. In reality he cared. He was capable of feeling emotions as deeply as any other being on the continent. He hated and held grudges, but he also loved and cared for those close to him just as intensely. And once she discovered that, she found it very easy to love him back.

She was truly safe with him, and in the long years that their love blossomed he did nothing but prove that to her. Geralt was her favorite person in the world. He was her home, her lover, her protector... A love like that was not easily forgotten and no one could blame her for holding out even the slightest hope that he would come for her, that he would somehow sense that she was in danger and rush to her rescue. It had happened in the past, their connection was that strong, so it wasn't an entirely far-fetched idea. It was just... naive of her.

Geralt had been traveling for days. He usually preferred to use alternative paths hidden behind forests or swamps, they were quieter and better for his business. Not many people used them so he didn't run into anyone that would bother him, and it was easy to run into the occasional monster roaming around, so it was a win-win situation for everyone. What he hated, however, was that most of the time it took him twice as long to get to some town where he could rest with minimal comforts and eat a hot meal.

Had he taken the main road he would probably already be at his destination, drinking in the dark corner of some dingy bar or locked in the room of some cheap inn, and not wandering the forest in search of an animal big enough to satisfy his appetite. He didn't mind being outdoors or having to hunt for his food on the spot —-in fact he was so used to that he almost preferred it—, but this time he was tired and couldn't wait to be anywhere but there. Perhaps that was why when he came across a king and his hunting party he accepted his offer to return to his camp to eat with him without putting up much of a fight.

Geralt hated royalty and King Elian was no exception. He was arrogant and self-absorbed, just like the vast majority of kings, but there was something else about him that rubbed the witcher the wrong way. He tried to decline his offer at first, but he was unwilling to take no for an answer.

"I'm afraid I will have to insist. My camp is not far from here and my tent is big and warm. I have more than enough food and I would love to hear some of your stories while we eat." The king insisted, pressing Geralt to accept his offer. "My men don't make for good company and I'm bored. I'm sure a witcher like you has been involved in a good share of adventures that make for fascinating stories."

In any other circumstances, Geralt would have found a way to escape from there. The last thing he wanted was to be used as the personal entertainment of an arrogant king. But this time he decided not to resist too much. He attributed it to his tiredness, he had been traveling for a long time and at least it wouldn't be a sacrifice in vain since he could at least get food in exchange for entertaining him for a while. But perhaps there was something more than that playing a role there. Fate itself had crossed their paths for a reason, even though he didn't know it yet.

"It's not as interesting or glorious as one might think." Geralt said with honesty.

In his experience there were two types of opinions regarding his people and what they did for a living. There were the people who despised them for what they were and believed they were no different than the monsters they killed and there were those who found them fascinating and longed to go on adventures like the ones they often experienced. To him both opinions were bullshit. He wasn't a monster, he didn't kill for pleasure or for fun as many people believed, but neither was he some kind of hero whose life was worthy of being immortalized in songs and poems. He was just a man who did what he knew best to survive, just like all witchers and all beings on the continent. He and his kind did not deserve hatred, but neither did they deserve to be crowned with laurels. They deserved to be left in peace, nothing more, nothing less.

"I have to say I'm grateful for the work you and your kind does." The king continued speaking without acknowledging Geralt's words. It was as if he was not there, his words were of little value to the king when they did not say exactly what he wanted to hear from him. "These creatures are dangerous and can't be left alone to live amongst us. Although some are fascinating creatures if given proper care and purpose."

Geralt looked at the monarch with a frown, unsure of what he meant by that. He said nothing, however, just remained silent for most of their journey to the camp, while trying to get a better read on the man beyond the typical arrogance of all of his kind. There was something about him that he did not like, something that caused a feeling that other kings and nobles did not. It was something more than his simple unpleasant personality, but he could not figure out what it was.

"You should come to my kingdom sometime." King Elian offered as they finally reached what appeared to be the camp where he and his hunting party had set up their base. "I have a collection of creatures I'm sure you would love to see."

The witcher halted his walk, looking at the king with narrowed eyes. "A collection?"

"Oh yes! I have the biggest collection of magical creatures in the whole continent." He admitted as if it was something to be proud of. "I have some pretty rare ones I'm sure you and your people would love to study. You're more than welcome to come over anytime! After all, we are all on the same side."

Geralt did not like the way the king referred to magical creatures and hated that he equated himself with witchers and the work they did. They didn't lock up monsters to brag about their large collection to strangers. They didn't see them as objects that gave them some kind of prestige. They saw them as living creatures, sometimes dangerous, sometimes misunderstood. Witchers did not enslave or kill monsters for fun as he seemed to do and Geralt was disgusted that he would even try to imply such a thing.

However, before he could voice his opinion, the king shoved him into his luxurious tent and the servants set a plate of food in front of him. It was filled with meat and potatoes and vegetables so colorful that they must have been freshly picked. It might have been the hunger talking, but it was the most appetizing food he had tasted in a long time. It was indeed fit for a king and Geralt thought it was definitely worth chatting with his host for a while in exchange for a share, especially after tasting the wine.

"It's good, isn't it?" the king asked him, studying his reaction as he lifted the wine glass to his mouth. "I have someone special that takes care of all the plants in the castle so I only eat the best of the best. It's actually one of my creatures. You can meet her, if you want."

Geralt let go of the piece of meat between his fingers and looked at the king with a frown. There was a subtle change in the air that made him instinctively tense, wondering what his host was up to. The king gave him a small smile before gesturing to one of his men, who left the tent without saying a word. The monarch's menacing aura put the witcher on alert, carefully watching his every move while he ate as if trying to predict what he would do next. His attitude had changed in a matter of seconds. Geralt couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but there was something about the way he looked back at him that put him on edge. It was almost as if he was waiting for something to happen —as if he knew something was going to happen—, the glow of anticipation clear in his eyes.

He didn't understand his attitude, at least not until the guard returned to the tent. Only he wasn't alone, but was carrying a girl on his arm who was shuffling her bare feet across the ground hesitantly, as if she really didn't want to be there. Her eyes were downcast and her long hair was tangled over her face, so that Geralt could not see her features. Her dress, which seemed to have been a beautiful piece of art at one time, was now dirty and worn, with the fabric torn to shreds on some sides. Her hands were bound together at her wrists, trapped by shackles of dimeritium that marked her condition of slavery. It was a sad sight that became horrifying when Geralt smelled the scent of flowers in the air.

His heart stopped as his nostrils were assaulted with the sweet smell of cherry blossom that he knew and had come to love. The world around him stopped as he was struck with the horrible realization of what was happening. He did not need to see the face of the captured young woman to know it was her. It was enough to feel her energy in the tent as he breathed in her characteristic sweet scent.

Geralt jumped to his feet, hand gripping his sword as he entered a state of desperation. He wasn't thinking, he couldn't, he had been reduced to his most primitive instincts by seeing her there in that condition. She was weak and injured in a way that Geralt had never seen, her glow and warm, positive energy almost completely extinguished after being tortured for who knows how long. However, when her eyes met his, he noticed a slight glimmer of joy and hope. That only further increased his desire to protect her, the murderous urge growing inside him and urging him to crush anyone who stood between them.

"Let her go!" Geralt demanded firmly, turning his eyes away from his former lover to look the king in the eyes.

He was furious and desperate, it was evident in his voice and in the hard expression on his face. Anyone would have given in to his demands if he looked at them with those murderous eyes, but King Elian did not flinch. He didn't seem to care that Geralt was pointing his sword at him or that he looked ready to take on an army on his own, he continued to eat as if nothing was happening while the tent filled with guards ready to defend him.

"Please, sit down. You barely touched your food." The monarch spoke in a calm, casual tone. But Geralt did not move, he stood his ground, sword held high and hate-filled eyes fixed on him. "Fate is its a curious thing, don't you agree? This invisible force pushing us to the right path so we might fulfill our destiny, making every little interaction, every little decision, integral... Take this as an example. This morning when I woke up I didn't think that I was going to cross paths with you and yet here we are."

"Let. Her. Go." Geralt interrupted the king's unimportant ramblings, pausing slightly at each word to emphasize his anger. He didn't care what the man had to say, he would slice him through with his sword right there if it weren't for the fact that his sweet nymph was bound and surrounded by guards who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her before he could get to her. "I won't ask again. Next time it will be my sword doing the talking."

"I don't want to fight you, Geralt. If anything, I want to thank you for helping me fulfill my destiny, my purpose of becoming the biggest collector of magical creatures in the continent... You see, if it weren't for you, I could never have captured a forest nymph as powerful as her. I admit that you ruined my plans the first time when you attacked my men, but in the end it was thanks to you that I was able to get my hands on her."

"What are you talking about?" the witcher asked, confused. It could be the adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning out his thoughts —or the fact that his heart was beating so fast that it was pounding in his ears muffling all other sounds—, but the king wasn't making much sense to him. They had never crossed paths before, and if they had, he would never have helped him in something so horrible.

"I could never have caught her while she was under your protection. But when you left... well, let's just say she was withering away little by little, weakening day by day until she got to the point where she couldn't defend herself when my men came for her."

Geralt froze in place as the king's words echoed in his head. It was a lot of information to process and he was in no condition to do so. If he wasn't so devastated he might have reacted to the implication that the king had been watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike after he had saved her from his men the day they had met. But at that moment he could only concentrate on the feelings of guilt and regret that came over him.

When he left, he never thought about the consequences his decision might have. He never thought about how his departure would affect her or if she would be okay. He knew she would be sad and hurt, just as it hurt him to have to leave her, but he also knew it was the right thing to do. So he focused on moving on, hoping she would too, without stopping to consider the consequences. He thought about her a lot in the time they spent apart —when he lay awake at night, admiring the stars and the nocturnal sounds of the woods; or as he dressed quietly after spending a night with Yennefer—, but in his mind he always pictured her happy. She was strong and had lived many years alone on the continent before their paths crossed, so he was sure that their breakup would not destroy her. He was sure that she would find a way to get back on her feet and that it would be better for the both of them to stay apart.

Now he realized that was just an excuse. He was being selfish, protecting himself and running away from reality so as not to face it because it hurted him. It hurted to know that he was hurting her. It hurted that he fell in love with another woman behind her back. It hurted to have to leave her after all they had been through together, the love they shared, the moments of vulnerability and intimacy that had brought them together. It hurted because he had failed her, because he couldn't keep his promise to be with her forever. So he completely disappeared from her life, making excuses to justify his behavior and convince himself that he was doing the right thing even though he knew deep down that he wasn't. He ran away like a coward and she ended up paying the price for it.

The witcher's eyes searched the nymph's, hoping to find in them the answers to the questions he had not asked, some indication that the king was not lying. She escaped his gaze, feeling embarrassed and extremely vulnerable. But eventually their gazes met and Geralt knew the mistake he had made. He should have been there for her. He should have helped her when they came for her. He should have searched for her all over the continent once he noticed her disappearance. He should have protected her, just as he always had. He had failed her twice, but he would not let there be a third.

Geralt carried out his threat without hesitation, lashing out at the nearest soldiers in an effort to reach her. The clinking sound of clashing swords and the groans of his opponents were all that echoed in his mind, focusing on his enemy to keep his head cool and ensure victory. They were no threat to him. They were well trained and knew how to move around very well, but he was a witcher with decades of experience and unmatched reflexes and skills. He had defeated them once in the past and he would do it again now without breaking a sweat.

At least that's what he thought before he heard the voice of the young nymph in the distance calling out for him.

“Geralt!” She exclaimed his name for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Her sweet voice traveled through the air, piercing through the sound of metal and the grunts of pain until it reached his ears. She managed to get his attention immediately as he recognized the hint of fear in it. As he buried his sword in his opponent, his eyes snapped up to her, searching for her in the crowd following the sound of her voice.

When he finally found her, Geralt's heart sank as he discovered the reason for the fear in her voice. The king had his hands around her, holding her tightly against his body. His left hand was wrapped around her torso, restricting her movement, while his right hand wielded a silver dagger against her neck. The metal gleamed in the dim light, revealing the sharp edge that burned the girl's skin. Desperate, Geralt tried to lunge at the monarch, but he stopped him with a click of his tongue.

"One more step and she dies." He assured, firmly. Geralt noticed the honesty in his voice, so he stayed in place and slowly lowered his sword —though he did not drop it—, a desperate attempt to buy time to think of a plan to get out of there with her by his side.

"You don't have to do this." Geralt tried to reason with him even though he knew it was in vain. He didn't see her as more than an object, just another piece in his long collection of creatures, so it was safe to assume he didn't value her life very much. But still, Geralt didn't have much choice so he tried anyway.

"She has been nothing but trouble since the moment she arrived at the castle, isn't that right, darling?" The king grumbled, lowering his head just slightly so he could mutter the last question against the young nymph's ear. "Crying all day, disobeying my orders, upsetting the other creatures... and now your friend over here kills half my men after I feed him and show him my generosity."

"If we present so much trouble to you, why don't you let us go? I'll take her with me and I promise you won't hear from us ever again."

"You are ungrateful brats." The king continued speaking, completely ignoring Geralt's words. "You think you are special, important, and therefore above it all... but you are not. Your actions have consequences and I am the one who decides what they are... You do not deserve my generosity or my mercy."

Geralt didn't have time to think about the hypocrisy in the monarch's words because before he could process them his eyes watched in horror as he slid the blade of the dagger across his beloved's neck. Blood began to gush violently from the wound, the thick, sticky liquid sliding down the young woman's delicate skin, turning everything red. He screamed her name, his sword slipping from his fingers and crashing to the floor with a muffled sound. He ran towards her, completely forgetting the guards he was fighting moments before. He only cared about her.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was moving in slow motion, as if his feet were twice as heavy and dragging them along the ground was more difficult than usual. Everyone around him seemed to slow down, the men around him, the gentle breeze of the wind... everything but her. He watched her collapse to the ground, blood covering her chest as she struggled to keep breathing. But he couldn't reach her. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms one more time, but it was as if an abyss was keeping them apart. It felt as if fate was mocking him, punishing him for his mistakes by allowing him to be there with her, but not letting him do anything to save her.

He tried to stop the bleeding as he knelt beside her —placing his hands on her neck and feeling the blood gushing from the wound—, but it was too late. She was pale and weak, all the magic in the world could not have saved her at that moment. There were tears in her eyes, in those beautiful green orbs that were fading with each passing second. She was scared, Geralt could see it in her expression. She didn't want to go, but she knew there was nothing else to do now.

"I'm here, I'm here." Geralt whispered in the calmest, most comforting tone he was capable of uttering at that moment. He swallowed his anger and pain, holding back tears so he could give her some peace. He cradled her face in his hands, fingers caressing the skin of her cheeks delicately as if he were afraid of breaking it. "It's going to be okay... you're going to be okay. I will fix this."

She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but instead of sound only blood came out. Geralt caressed her gently, feeling the tears rolling down her cheeks. She clutched her hand around his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. She was begging him to understand her, to read in her eyes her thoughts as he had done so many times in the past. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand her, although in hindsight it should have been obvious to him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, to assure him that none of it was his fault and that no matter what had happened between them, he would own her heart forever.

"I love you. I always will."

Geralt saw the reassurance in her face as the warmth of love enveloped her in her last moments. She gave him the faintest of smiles, an almost invisible sign of the peace his words had brought her. And then her grip on his arm weakened, her hand dropping to the floor as life left her body. Suddenly, that subtle smile, now permanently carved into her expression, was all he had left of her, of her life and the love they shared.

Geralt did not fight when the soldiers dragged him and tied him to a tree to leave him there to die while they escaped, he did not have the strength to do so. He was numb to the world around him, consumed by grief. The sound of the king and his men preparing to leave sounded muffled and distant, as if they were far away from him. And in a way they were, for his mind was not one with his body, but far away. He was focused on the slowly withering body of his beloved, on the fear as she called his name and the terror in her eyes as the edge of the dagger sealed her fate. He could only think of her and all the time they had lost and could never get back, feeling the guilt slowly consuming him as her body transformed into a pile of pink petals.

Geralt admired her face in the dim glow of the candlelight, thinking about how beautiful she looked tangled in the sheets beside him. Her hair spread across the pillow like a halo around her head and her smooth skin was covered with a light layer of sweat that gave her an almost ethereal glow. It felt like an illusion, a trick of his mind. He found it hard to believe he had someone like her lying next to him, looking at him with love in her eyes.

It wasn't just her beauty. No. It was the peace her mere presence awakened in him and the void he felt in his chest when they were apart. It was the way he dreamed of her and her caresses every night he went to bed alone and how his longing disappeared when he felt her warmth against him as their bodies melted into one. It was the way her kisses made him feel like he was home, safe and away from the complications of the world outside the little paradise that was her forest. It was much more than physical attraction, more than the effects of her nymph charm, as he had initially thought. It was love. Pure, honest love, like he had never felt before. He was in love with her, and while he hadn't put it into words yet, he wasn't afraid to admit it.

Her fingers aroused a warm tingle as they caressed his cheek. Geralt leaned into it, closing his eyes for a second to appreciate the magic of the moment. It was amazing how such a subtle act, such a light touch, was able bring out so many emotions in him. It was something only she could do, a clear demonstration of how deep his feelings for her were.

However, when Geralt opened his eyes again, he didn't find the special glow he usually saw in them at intimate moments like this. She was looking straight at him, but it was as if she was looking right through him, as if her mind was lost in her thoughts. Something was bothering her, that much was clear in the green tint of her eyes. Her mouth would open slightly, almost in an imperceptible movement, only to close seconds later, as if there was something she wanted to tell him but couldn't quite bring herself to say. So he decided to ask her about it.

"What's wrong?" Geralt voice was low and raspy with sleep, looking at her with a slight frown in confusion. There was a moment of silence before she answered. Her eyes never left his, but her hand slowly slid from his cheek to rest on his bare chest.

"I'm afraid of losing you." She eventually said, her voice almost a whisper. "You travel across the continent, meet all kinds of people... I'm afraid one day you will get bored of me... find someone better and leave me forever."

Geralt could not believe his ears. It was ridiculous to him that she could have such a fear of abandonment when he felt the way he did. If only she knew how happy being with her made him... If only he could somehow transfer his emotions to her so that she could feel his heart race when they kissed, or experience the peace that filled him inside every night when he lay down next to her... If only she knew, she wouldn't be having those kinds of thoughts. So, he took her hand in his and pressed it against the left side of his chest, right over where his heart was beating with love for her. She needed to know that she was the only one who had a permanent place there. She was the only one he loved and he doubted that would ever change.

"Believe me when I tell you that there is no force on this continent that can keep me away from you." He spoke in a soft voice and watched as her eyes lit up full of illusion. "I love you, forever and always."

He sealed his promise with a kiss, showing her with his lips how serious he was about it. He loved her and there was nothing he wanted to do more than to be with her for the rest of his life, sharing intimate moments like this one and protecting her from any evil that might come her way. He felt complete with her and could not imagine how miserable his life would be without her by his side.

Geralt allowed himself to get lost in the passion of the moment, fingers tracing trails over his beloved's bare skin as he melted into the kiss. It was different this time, more intimate and charged with all the emotions that were left unsaid —it was their special way of communicating, one kiss and they knew what was going through each other's minds. The comforting warmth of love filled his heart, leaving him in a state of total bliss as she whispered sweet nothings against his lips. He was happy in a way he could not remember ever being before, in a way he knew he could only be with her.

But suddenly that comforting warmth that flooded his insides was replaced by a paralyzing cold, an emptiness that pressed against his chest and took his breath away. Geralt could no longer feel his beloved's lips against his. He could no longer smell the flowery scent her soft skin radiated or feel the warmth of her body. He was trapped in a black void, in emptiness itself, all alone. And in the distance he could hear his name being called.

Geralt

It was a cry for help, the voice of terror of someone who had been confronted with their own mortality. The voice trembled with fear, certain of the fatal fate that awaited them. Geralt could not escape its shrieks, no matter how hard he tried. It was his own personal hell, a void where he was forced to confront his pain, his guilt, and to listen again and again to his beloved's voice filled with terror as she spoke his name for the last time.

Geralt woke up tangled in the sheets, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and breathing fast due to his nightmare. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling as he tried to pull himself together. His beloved's voice was still ringing in his ears, only that with every waking second it became more and more distant until it became an almost unintelligible whisper. Anguish and guilt weighed heavy on his chest, but he was used to that by now. The emptiness inside him had accompanied him every moment of his life since that unfortunate day. He could not escape the pain and regret he felt, it haunted him even when he closed his eyes at night. He could not even enjoy the peaceful ignorance in the mornings, when one's mind is too sleepy to process life's tragedies, because his nightmares would remind him of every painful detail of that day so that he could not rest.

At a time like this, when life had become so overwhelming that he was unable to sleep, he usually reached out to her. With her gentle touch and sweet voice she was always able to calm his tormented self, wash away the anger and frustration and replace it with love and calmness. But now she was gone and he didn't know how to go on. He missed her more than he thought it was possible to miss anyone. He missed the melodious sound of her laughter and the light in her eyes when she was happy. He missed waking up next to her in the mornings, feeling the warmth of her body enveloping him as she whispered good morning to him, her voice hoarse from sleep. He wished he could once again feel the soft caress of her lips on his and hear her say she loved him one more time.

There was nothing Geralt wasn't willing to do to have her back with him, to be able to tell her how much he loved her and how he regretted leaving her. He had been an idiot to have given in to his desires for Yennefer. He should never have gotten involved with her, he should have let her own greed and obsession destroy her that day. He should have saved Jaskier and moved on with his life, after all Yennefer's problems were of no concern to him. But he could not resist his need to intervene, acting like a knight in shining armor instead of what he really was: a witcher. He made an impulsive decision, binding their destinies with magic and unknowingly triggering the death of his beloved. For if only he had been with her, if only he had stayed by her side to protect her as he had promised, he was sure things would be very different. She would still be alive and he would not be so miserable.

But Geralt was determined to make things right. He refused to let her die because of his mistakes. And looking at the cherry blossom tree growing outside his window, he knew the time was getting closer.

"I will fix this." He spoke to the tree, stroking the trunk with his hand as he sucked in a long breath of air. It smelled like her, a sweet scent mixed with the aroma of wood and wet earth. It ached and comforted him in equal amounts. "I will bring you back to me and I will keep my promise to you this time."

Geralt knew she was gone, but her essence was still alive in that tree. Born from the pink petals in which her body had withered when she died, it grew stronger with each day, keeping a fragment of her alive. Of course it was not her, but for now he was happy to make promises to the wind that its branches generated, clinging to the sweet scent of its flowers as the only sign that his words were well received by her. It was all he had, all he had left of her, and for now that was enough. He still wasn't sure how he would fulfill his promises or even where to begin. But he was sure of one thing, and that was that his love for her was stronger than fate itself and there was no force on the continent that could stop him from keeping his promise this time.

The solution to his dilemma presented itself almost by accident. And it came from the place Geralt least expected. He had spent the last few months visiting every library he had access to, reading every book and consulting with every expert he knew in his desperate search to find a way to bring his beloved back to life. But in the end, it was Jaskier who presented him with a solution in the form of a song.

They were traveling on a back road after a successful job. The bard had offered to accompany him under the excuse that he needed new inspirations, but Geralt knew he was doing it because he didn't want to leave him alone. Jaskier knew the pain he felt and being the good friend he was he wanted to accompany him in mourning. Geralt appreciated him even if he didn't have the strength to say it in words. His light-hearted comments and meaningless ramblings were exactly what he needed to distract his tormented mind. Even his spontaneous singing at the worst possible moment cheered him up instead of irritating him as usual. Anything to help him concentrate on something else was welcomed.

They had been walking for hours, hoping to reach the next town before dark and sleep in a comfortable bed in a warm room and not in the middle of the forest again. They were quiet, only the chirping of birds and the sound of leaves crunching under their feet echoed in the air. They had run out of things to talk about an hour ago and Jaskier was starting to get bored. So he did what he always did when he found himself in that situation, sing. Only this time Geralt didn't recognize the verses as one of his own original songs. It was one he had not heard him sing before, so he paid attention.

It told the story of a young man that had managed to win the heart of a forest nymph with his beautiful singing. The connection they shared was so strong that they married shortly after meeting, in the same place where they first saw each other. Happiness and love filled their days for a few long and joyful months. That was until fate, jealous and bitter, stood in the way of their happiness. So, one morning, after being bitten by a snake, the young nymph died. Her beloved fell into a state of despair when he heard the tragic news. Unable to accept that his wife had been taken from his life without warning, he descended into the depths of the underworld to plead for her soul. The song narrated the difficulties of his journey and the perseverance with which he had faced each difficulty until he reached the lord of the underworld himself, to whom he tearfully begged for the return of his wife. The emotion in his words was such that he managed to move Hades, who gave in to his prayers. Although he imposed a condition: that he would not turn around to see his wife's soul following his steps until he left the underworld.

The story did not end well since the young man had been too eager and had turned to see his beloved before she was completely above ground. But Geralt didn't care about that somber detail. His attention was focused on the young man and his journey to the underworld, not only because he felt somehow connected to the emotions of sadness and despair he felt, but also because he was fairly certain he could recreate his heroic efforts.

"Are you crazy?" was Jaskier's reaction to hearing Geralt's idea, his voice raised in a tone of surprise and concern. "Haven't you heard the end of the song? Things go wrong! He doesn't get his wife back!"

“I know, but I don’t care.”

“Geralt, the story it’s just a myth… a tragic love story that one could say is a cautionary tale! You’re not supposed to follow in his footsteps, you’re supposed to learn to live with the grief, process your emotions and eventually move on… Look, I know this is hard for you. I miss her too… What happened to her wasn’t fair, but it wasn't your fault either. Blindly following the words of a myth is not going to change anything.”

“But it’s not a myth, not all of it at least.” Geralt recognized that the love story of the young man and the forest nymph might be an invention, but he knew of the existence of a door to the underworld. It was hidden and required great power and extensive knowledge of magic to be opened, but it was real. And fortunately for him, he knew one of the most powerful and skilled mages on the continent. Though convincing her to help him would not be an easy task given how things had ended between them.

"Why should I help you?" Yennefer said with annoyance in her voice when he showed up unannounced to ask for her help. It was clear that she did not enjoy the witcher's surprise visit and was not shy about showing it. "And more importantly, why are you asking for my help with something like this? I thought you of all people would know how dangerous opening the doors of the underworld is."

"Why do you care?" Geralt answered her with another question. To be honest, he didn't think the difficulties in getting her help would come from a moral issue. Yennefer was not the type of mage who cared too much about such things. "Are you in this or not?"

"That depends... what's in it for me? I hope you know I'm not going to waste my energy in helping you out of the goodness of my heart, not after all the shit you did." Geralt smiled at her remark, surprised that it had taken her so long to once again blurt out her complaints about him saving her life. She was still angry at him for linking their destinies with the wish to the Djinn and at this point he doubted she would ever get over it.

"You get the once in a lifetime chance to traverse the underworld and possibly get knowledge beyond anyone's comprehension." He simply stated.

Yennefer was silent for a moment, watching Geralt intently, violet eyes piercing his yellow orbs. It alerted him to strengthen his mental shield to keep her from entering his thoughts.

"When you live as long as I have, once in a lifetime opportunities start losing power and meaning."

"I'm offering you an opportunity to explore the unexplored and that's your answer? This could have all the answers you've spent years looking for and you're not interested?"

"Oh I'm interested, I just can't understand why Geralt of Rivia, the mighty witcher who prides in his indifference and ability to not intervene, would be interested in opening the gates to the underworld?"

"I have my reasons and they are not of your concern. Are you going to help me or not?"

Yennfer was silent for a moment, considering her options. And then, she smiled at him, and he knew he could count on her help.

Preparing for such an adventure was difficult. It was the first time in his life that Geralt did not know what to expect. He had no idea what he was going to encounter once they crossed the gates to the world of the dead. He didn't know what kind of obstacles he would encounter on the journey or if he would even accomplish his task. But he had to try. Even if it was the last thing he did, he owed it to her.

It was difficult to prepare for the uncertain, so he tried to imagine all possible scenarios and prepare accordingly. He tried to be as meticulous as possible, but he knew it was impossible to stay on top of everything. What he never imagined, however, was that trouble would come from Yennefer's end. He always saw her as such a powerful and determined individual that he did not take into consideration that her energy could wear out and her magic could be consumed. Geralt had no way of really knowing how demanding the spell to open the gates of the underworld would be. He knew it was not something that just anyone could do, but he thought Yennefer could handle it without much trouble. He had never seen magic like hers. And what she lacked in skill, she made up for in stubbornness, so he thought that with her by his side things would not be so difficult.

However, the moment they took a step into the world of the dead, Yennefer fell weakly into the witcher's arms. She muttered something about having spent her energy and how the nature of the place did not allow her to pull herself together. Geralt suggested that she stay outside, after all, this wasn't her fight and she didn't have to risk so much for him. And at that instant, as if the walls were listening to them, the doors closed, leaving only one possible path.

The place was cold and dark, like a cave hidden deep in a mountain. There was not so much as a ray of sunlight, the little light that illuminated their way came from torches distributed along the stone walls. The air was heavy, stale, and it was hard to breathe. It was clear that this was no place for the living, but Geralt continued on his way despite the difficulties. He took Yennefer by the waist, letting her wrap one arm around his shoulders so she could walk, and followed the straight path that the torches seemed to indicate. At the end of the tunnel he came to a large river, and on the shore rested a boat. Inside it stood a hooded figure, long black robes covered its entire body in a way that Geralt could not see its face when it turned to look at them, only a void lost inside the hood.

"He's been waiting for you." The figure spoke, stepping aside so they could board the boat. Geralt hesitated, thinking back to all the catastrophic scenarios he had imagined in preparation for this moment. Surely that had to be a trap, things couldn't be that simple, could they?

"He wants to speak to you, Geralt of Rivia." The figure spoke again as it noticed the hesitation in the witcher's attitude. "He sent me to find you and ensure your safe passage through these waters." He did not trust it, but Yennefer pushed him into the boat with what little strength she had, so he had no other choice.

The dark figure did not utter another word. It went about its task in complete silence, paddling in the waters of oblivion until it brought them close to shore. It did not help them down once they reached their destination, nor did it open its mouth to give them directions. Just pointed a long, skeletal finger toward the horizon and set off the same way it had come.

A dark, dead forest loomed before them. Long, thin tree trunks, nearly leafless branches and shabby bushes decorated the path. Everything seemed to be in shades of black and gray, though that was probably due to the lack of sun. In the distance a structure could be seen, a castle whose colors matched the rest of the landscape. Although the neat and polished appearance of its exterior contrasted with the disheveled and dead environment around it. It was clear that that was where they should go, so Geralt took Yennefer in his arms once more and set off on his way.

There was not much distance separating them from the castle, but the witcher felt as if he had spent an eternity walking. And yet, at the same time, when he reached the large wooden gates, he was amazed to have reached his destination so quickly. His perception of time was totally altered, affected by the atmosphere of the place. Time did not flow there in the same way as it did on the surface. It was as if it was both stopped and accelerated all at once, as if each step took hours and at the same time a couple of seconds. It was more than the absence of sunlight confusing his perception. It was the way things worked in that place, a world separate from the one lying on the surface that he was not supposed to access.

The man who appeared in front of them when the doors opened on their own was imposing, but far less frightening than Geralt expected. It was enough to look into his eyes to know that he was the person in charge of the place. Power shone in his eyes in the same way the witcher had seen it in the kings in the world of the living. And yet, there was something unique about them, something that made it clear that he was no mere mortal. Geralt knew better than to challenge him, though he wasn't sure his emotions would allow him to be cautious if things didn't go as he hoped.

"I've been waiting for you, witcher." the god said in a loud, clear voice. "I'm surprised it took you this long to find me."

Geralt was not pleased to learn that he had been waiting for him. He had imagined it might be a possibility, but he thought the god would use that knowledge to stop him. The fact that he welcomed him without trials or difficulties, sending his people to look for him and opening the doors of his home to him without hesitation, made him suspicious. For all he knew, it could all be a trap.

"Oh don't flatter yourself, witcher! I have far more important things to do than to set you up." The god spoke as if reading his thoughts.

"You knew I was coming?" Geralt managed to say and the god nodded.

"And most importantly, I know why you are here. I knew you were going to find your way here the second she came in."

The mere mention of his beloved in the conversation had Geralt's heart racing, a gesture of both love and anxiety. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him, watching him with furrowed brows as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She knew of his former lover, the forest nymph he had abandoned after their destinies were linked, and he had no doubt that she would understand what was happening in just a second, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to have her back.

"So, I'm assuming you know why I'm here."

"I do, yes. And I will not be opposing to your wishes, Geralt of Rivia. I knew from the first moment that this was not her time and I am willing to give her another chance to live out her destiny without surprise interruptions from magic... However, I do have one condition."

"And you say it was not a trap..."

"It is not! It is just a simple... exchange."

"An exchange of what?"

The god paused, taking his moment to answer.

"Souls are complex things, Geralt. Very powerful, very strong... I can't just let one walk out of here."

"Why not? You have plenty here."

"It's a matter of balance, I don't expect you to understand that. But, if you want your dear nymph back, you'll have to give me a soul in return."

Geralt was silent for a moment, carefully analyzing his situation. After all the work it had taken him to get there, he didn't plan to leave empty-handed. But he also didn't want to condemn an innocent soul who had nothing to do with his mistakes. So he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Fine," the witcher agreed. "Take me then. My soul for hers, it's only fair."

Yennefer tugged on his arm, ready to argue with him —thinking he was acting like an idiot by offering his life as if it was nothing—, but was interrupted before she could open her mouth by the laughter of the god in front of them.

"It's a nice gesture, but your soul isn't nearly powerful enough. It's better than an ordinary human’s soul, I'll give you that, but she's a nymph. Do you have any idea how much energy her soul contains?"

"Then name your price." Geralt said. He wasn't necessarily going to give in to his demands, but he figured it didn't hurt to learn what the god's wishes were.

"To be honest, I don't think you can get a soul of such power... however, you do have access to one that is quite close." Geralt didn't like the suggestive tone in the god's voice. And he liked it even less when his eyes fell on Yennefer as he finished the sentence.

"No!" The witcher declared as he understood the intentions behind those words. He had brought Yennefer with him to help him open the portal and nothing else. He refused to sacrifice one more life. No one else had to suffer because of his stupid decisions.

"She wouldn't suffer." The god spoke after glancing at Geralt's thoughts. "She doesn't even have to be dead, she just has to stay here with me."

"I don’t care. We're not doing this."

"Why don't you let her decide?" The god said, resting his eyes on Yennefer's violet ones. "It is a good deal. You get your lover back and she gets-"

"She gets imprisoned here forever." Geralt interrupted and the god looked at him wearily.

"She gets to be the most powerful madge in history, sitting by my side ruling the underworld... isn't that what you always wanted, Yennefer of Vengerberg, to have power beyond imaginable? What's more powerful than deciding between life and death?"

Geralt snorted at such words, finding the god's tricks very ineffective. But when he looked back at Yennefer, she had a look in her eyes that made him doubt. "You're not seriously considering his proposal, aren't you?" he approached her, speaking in a lower tone of voice so as not to be heard by the god.

"If we leave now then we traveled this far for nothing. Don't you want to get her back?"

"No if it means hurting innocent people. You have nothing to do with this."

"Except I do since the moment you made that srupid wish."

"I didn't save your life then just to leave you here now."

"You're not leaving me, I'm choosing to stay."

"You don't have to do this, Yennefer." Geralt's voice became softer. She seemed quite sure of her decision and he knew it would not be easy to persuade her otherwise, but he had to try. He didn't like the idea of leaving her behind, of sacrificing her in favor of his own happiness.

"Oh, please! I'm not doing this just for you. I usually don't like to waste my time and energy just to end up empty handed. I came here because, as you said, it was an opportunity to find the answers I've been looking for. So why don't you worry about you and let me worry about myself?"

Yennefer rolled her eyes. And while she wasn't lying and really had interests of her own in that place, Geralt really was a big part of the reason she wanted to accept the god's offer. There was something in his eyes, the sparkle of true love, that shone every time he thought of his departed lover. It was something she had never noticed in his eyes when he looked at her. It was clear that what they had was real, it softened her hardened and withering heart, and gave her hope that love was real. Though of course, she would never admit that to Geralt.

The witcher growled under his breath, clenching his jaw. Even though part of him didn't like the idea of leaving Yennefer behind, he couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved to hear those words. If she wanted to stay there for her own selfish reasons, then accepting the god's proposal was much easier on his conscience.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked her once more, giving her one last chance to back out.

Yennefer shrugged. "I lived a long time among the living, had my good share of adventures... maybe it's time to try my luck in the underworld. "

That answer was good enough for Geralt. He accepted the god's proposal, exchanging Yennefer's soul for that of his beloved nymph. She would stay in the underworld with him and in return Geralt would get a second chance with his lover. The god instructed him to return home and assured him that when he arrived, her soul would already be back in her birth tree.

As he made his way back, the thought that the god was tricking him crossed his mind. He realized that he really had nothing to assure him that he would keep his word. For all he knew, this could have been a strange move by the god to get to Yennefer and her powers for some reason he did not know. Perhaps he was being used as a pawn in a larger chess game that he did not know he was part of. Perhaps he had unleashed a terrible evil upon the continent without realizing it.

But then he felt it.

The sweet scent of flowers assaulted his nostrils the moment he set foot in the forest. It was strong, much stronger than it had been in a long time. He noticed then that everything looked greener and more alive, every flower, bush and plant glowing in the warm sunlight in a way that they didn't when he left. Even the birds seemed to sing louder and more cheerfully.

Geralt ran to the cherry blossom tree he had been tending for what had felt like an eternity. His heart was racing with every step he took, not from the physical effort, but from the anticipation. The hope of seeing her again was what had kept him sane since that horrible day he had lost her. All this time he had thought it was impossible, an illusion that only served to keep him on his feet until the pain subsided. But now it was a reality, and he had so many emotions swirling inside him that he didn't know exactly what to feel.

Suddenly, his eyes came upon a figure on the horizon. It was partially blocked by the rays of sunlight that kept him from seeing clearly, so he picked up his pace to get closer. Little by little the figure revealed itself in front of him, until it became clear to him that the one who was walking around the forest, picking flowers and petting the animals, was her.

She looked as beautiful as he remembered her, with her long hair blowing in the wind and a sweet smile on her face. It was as if time had never passed, as if that horrible day and the pain that her death had unleashed had been just a bad dream. It was as if he had never lost her.

Geralt stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell on hers, paralyzed by the emotions coursing through him. All this time he had dreamed of this moment and now that he had her only a few feet away he didn't know how to react. His eyes blurred with tears, but he caught a glimpse of his beloved's figure running to him before he felt the warmth of her body in his arms. He held her tighter than he ever had, pulling her against his chest as a way of both making sure she was real and that she couldn't pull away from him.

"You came for me." She muttered, melting into the embrace. Her memory was somewhat fuzzy, but she remembered clearly the moment when the blade of the dagger had caressed her neck. She remembered how it had felt and the horror in Geralt's eyes as she fell into his arms, taking her last breaths. She remembered his words of comfort and his promise to make things right, as if he actually could. She still didn't understand how she was back there, but she knew it was Geralt she had to thank for her second chance at life. Somehow, he had found a way to bring her back, she was sure of that.

"I'll always come back for you."

The kiss they shared was unlike any other. It was passionate and desperate, yet soft and tender. It was charged with all the emotions that had been left unsaid between them, sadness, regret, longing, but, above all, love. They felt that spark the moment their lips brushed, just like in the old days. Geralt hadn't realized how much he had missed feeling her soft lips on his until that moment. He allowed himself to get lost in the joy he felt, letting the warmth of her body against his slowly remove the traces of sadness and pain that had haunted him all this time.

They remained in each other's arms for a long time, enjoying the moment they had both been longing for so long. It was just him, her and the chirping of birds in the trees. Breathing in the floral scent of her hair, Geralt knew that the gray days were behind him. Gone were the guilt and the pain, the sleepless nights and the cold mornings without his beloved. She was back by his side, just as she always should have been. And he was more than happy for the new beginning he had with her. A new chance to make things right, to honor his word and keep his promise, just as he should have done from the beginning. He was ashamed that he had had to lose her to realize how big his mistake had been, but now that he had her back he wasn't going to let her go. His love had proven to be stronger than everything, even death itself.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia angst #the witcher x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia fluff

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sorrowsofsilence · 4 months

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Faster • Karlsson

Pairing: Jolly Karlsson x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), choking, derogatory term used (slut).

Prompt: you know what they say, guitarists finger faster.

PART TWO HERE

Author note: I swear these got even dirtier as they went on… AWOOGA lol. But here is the last one under this prompt!! I hope you enjoyed this “mini-series” as much as I did.

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @th4t-em0-k1d @lans-angels @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking

Well, you know what they say, guitarists finger faster.

You swallowed harshly as you watched Jolly’s fingers grazing across the guitar strings, your mind travelling to various unholy thoughts.

The two of you were sat in the studio, producing some solo work Jolly wanted to try doing on the side. It surprised you when Jolly asked you to join him since the two of you only become friends a few months prior due to Noah, whom you had met at a Bad Omen’s after-party and talked about producing music yourself.

You and Noah had hit it off immediately, sharing interests in curating different styles of sounds and imploring each other’s creativity. You two were so invested in the conversation you hadn’t noticed the man looming behind him who was watching you with curious eyes, until Noah turned, almost bumping into him.

“Oh! Jolly!” Noah had said, his smile wide, “This is Y/N, she’s also a producer!”

You held out your hand instinctively, not even seeing the man properly until Noah stepped away, revealing the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

You were ready to melt at his mysterious smile alone as he shook your hand, tattooed fingers slipping around yours enigmatically. It was your breaking point when he spoke, the deep Swede accent that left his lips had you completely captivated, ready to surrender everything to the stranger.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Joakim, but everyone calls me Jolly.” His chestnut hair was half up in a bun and half down, the scruff of facial hair carved through his features just right. Your eyes had trailed to his piercings, the cross dangling from his lobe invigorating, and the piercing of his nose sending your stomach into spirals. Any man with a pierced nose knows how to fuck.

You were hooked the moment you met him, but you remained ignorant of his feelings being reciprocated. You told yourself he could be with anyone, and that he couldn’t have any interest in you- but Jolly was fixated that very same day.

Jolly had gone home from the party with his mind dominated by your image. He was consumed by thoughts of what could be; the smile you gave him when you two parted after talking to each other for hours during the event leaving him swooning.

For months the two of you stole glances at one another, both of you smiling in greeting when you got together with the band to work on their new album. Behind each grin was a plea for one another to make a first move; the fantasy of completely devouring each other.

Jolly wanted you more than anyone he’s ever crossed paths with. He loved the way your s/c skin radiated through the sun, your perfect h/c hair accompanying your e/c eyes. He wanted all of you. Needed all of you.

The more time you spent with the boys, the more the tension would build. You would let your fingers graze across his skin when you passed each other equipment, and would purposefully wear certain clothes you knew drove him wild. You’d walk past with a sauter in your step, bending over in front of him to pick up cables or reverb pedals after a recording session.

Jolly would watch with hungry eyes as he licked his lips, readjusting himself through the pocket of his pants as his mind undressed you. He imagined bending you over the studio couch, holding back your arms as leverage to fuck you deeper and faster; touching himself over a dozen times to the thought of how good you’d feel, wrapped around himself- desperate to send you onto your knees, praying his name.

You sat across from him in the studio, sitting cross-legged on top of the leather rolly chair placed by the computer screen. You listened to Jolly’s strumming through the headphones plugged into the amp, bobbing your head to the music. Flickering your eyes to Jolly, his own were closed as he bit the inside of his cheek, focusing on the riff.

Your eyes wandered back and continued to watch as his hands danced through the harmony he created, his fingers picking through the strings with ease; your stomach spiralling with thoughts of what his fingers could do to your own body. You wanted to think about anything else, but your heart began to race, face flushing.

Jolly watched you admire his hands working along the neck of the guitar, and you didn’t know that he caught on to the effect his playing had over you. He strummed a few more cords before sighing, taking off his headphones and placing the guitar on the stand next to him.

“I don’t know if I liked the sound of that,” Jolly said, standing up. Your heart hammered as he got closer to you, staring up through your lashes towards the man towering over you as you sat below him.

“Can you play it back for me?” He asked, and you nodded quickly, swallowing away your lustful desires as he spun your chair around. You clicked your way through the computer, looking for the riff. You unplugged your headphones so you two could hear it aloud, and Jolly frowned once he listened to it back.

“No no,” he hummed, before leaning down over the back of the chair, face inches away as he placed his hand over yours on top of the mouse, “Here.”

You let out a shaky breath at the proximity, as he guided your hand to click the part he wanted to listen to.

“What?” Jolly whispered, turning to look at you now. You felt his warm breath cascade over your ear, “Are you nervous?”

Your face warmed as you turned to look at him, “no, why would I be nervous?”

He smiled, his lip finding its way between his teeth as he looked towards the computer, exiting the program.

“I’m tired of playing this game,” He said, standing back up and turning the chair around so you were facing his body, head barely above his waste line.

“Wh-what game?” You laughed nervously, but your stomach erupted into spirals of excitement.

Jolly’s hand gripped underneath your chin as he forced your gaze towards his own, holding you in place, “You want me-”

You almost choked on your saliva at his bold words, even if true.

“-And I want you.” He finished, eyes searching your face for any doubt. His grip tightened on your jaw for a moment as your chest rose heavily before he leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of the armrests of the chair. He hovered over you, waiting for an answer.

“Am I wrong?” His head cocked to the side, and your lips parted briefly, before shaking your head.

“No,” you bit the inside of your cheek, avoiding his eyes. Jolly’s heart raced when you agreed with his words, the realization that you felt the same way causing his breath to hitch.

“So kiss me,” He demanded, leaning closer towards you, noses almost touching. You looked at him now, eyes wide as your chest hammered with nerves.

“I said, kiss me,” He stated again, and you analyzed his expression, reading his stern yet titillating gaze.

You didn’t even nod before closing the gap between the two of you, Jolly sighing in complete relief as your lips met. Jolly kissed you firmly, immediately licking at your lip to open the kiss, devouring each other.

You almost began moaning into his lips as you vibrated with excitement, your ears warming through the heat of the moment.

Jolly himself had to restrain himself from taking you right then and there on the chair, ready to mercilessly pound into you with no constraint. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around your neck, pulling you to stand up beneath him, gripping your body as though he owned you.

You barely held yourself up against Jolly’s grasp, letting your own hands roam beneath his t-shirt and trail along the covered skin. His free hand ran down your back, memorizing your hips through a repetitive pattern as he reached beneath the short black skirt you wore.

Jolly’s hunger for you was lascivious, the grip on your neck proving so; but it wasn’t until he dipped beneath your collarbone, placing his tongue at your nape before licking his way up to underneath your jaw. His mouth moved against yours ruthlessly, afraid to miss any inch of your being, sucking along the spot behind your ear. A breathy laugh escaped your lips in disbelief at his yearning caress against your skin.

Your hands trailed to the waistband of Jolly’s jeans, tugging at the fabric, dipping your fingers dangerously close, before running them along the hem of his underwear, teasing him. Jolly was already hardening as your lips melted against his own, but he was no longer able to stop himself as he pulled you by the neck towards the studio sofa; famished and lewd.

The pent-up tension of the last few months eased as the two of you watched each other while he pushed you into the leather, replacing the anxiety with heated desperation.

“You have no idea how many times I have touched myself to thoughts of you,” Jolly shared a suave smile, and you grinned back, satisfied at his words.

“I’ve wanted you since the day we met,” You said as Jolly sat beside you, hands roaming over your body again. You slouched your body into the cushions, resting your heels on the edge. Jolly kissed you again, his hands wandering between your legs as he rubbed them up along your skin, clawing and squeezing before spreading your thighs apart. He lifted the fabric of your skirt, exposing your underwear. You thanked fucking god that you chose a slutty pair of lace ones this morning.

Jolly’s lips trailed down your neck as his fingers began to dance along your covered core, and you winced once they grazed over your desperation. You stared at him, pleading with him to do something, anything.

Jolly pulled your underwear to the side and he spread your arousal along your folds with the pads of his inked fingers. Your breath picked up pace as you watched how they grazed over you delicately. Jolly eventually began circling over where you craved him most, and you moaned into his lips with furrowed brows. You tried not to buck your hips for more friction.

“Please, fuck me with your fingers,” you pulled away from him, begging.

Jolly chuckled, “So that’s why you always watch the way I play guitar.”

He watched you intensely with parted lips as he teased you a moment more, before sinking his fingers through you. Jolly ravished in the moment you looked back at him through hooded eyes, succumbing to his touch.

“Fuck,” you cursed, refusing to break eye contact with Jolly as his fingers pumped in and out, curling upwards as he beckoned for you to moan.

“Say my name,” Jolly said, pushing into you with force, the speed of his fingers flicking against your spot leaving you blinded with incitement, “Who’s fucking you with their fingers? You’re going to come on them like the good little slut you are.”

“You,” You cried, holding your thighs into your chest as you exposed yourself fully, surrendering, “Jolly.”

The shit-eating grin plastered on his face said it all, pleased at your submission. Jolly’s other hand reached to stimulate the top of you for a moment, pushing your body over the edge.

You screamed as he remained fixated on your pleasure, pumping his fingers with immense speed through your orgasm until you pushed him away, catching your breath.

Jolly smiled proudly through hooded eyes, sliding his fingers along you one last time before bringing his fingers up to your lips.

“Suck,” He demanded, and you obliged, opening your mouth as he pushed his fingers towards the back of your throat. You moaned, tasting yourself against his fingers, sucking along his digits.

A guttural groan emanated from Jolly as he envisioned your lips wrapped around him, taking all he offered, saliva dripping from your tongue. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you aimlessly into his mattress, leaving you a withering mess.

“Let’s go back to my place,” Jolly said, kissing you desperately again before standing up, adjusting himself in his pants and grabbing his keys.

You stared at him, wanting to please him, “But- it’s your turn?”

Jolly gave you a low laugh, throwing his jacket over his shoulders as he pulled you up off the couch, smacking your ass to push you forward.

“Where else do you think I’m going to fuck into you senselessly?”

Part Two ;)

#bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens smut #jolly karlsson #joakim jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #jolly karlsson smut #joakim karlsson smut #metalcore smut #smut #noah sebastian #noah sebastian smut

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somewhereincairparavel · 26 days

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🐚 Daughter of Neptune headcanons list 🌊 Part Two..

note: dam this was superrr long aswell, I hope I didn't bore y'all lol, I really enjoyed writing this actually! Again, this is the continuation of my first fic, this mostly includes big brother percy! x reader, and yes there will be a part 3 aswell, that focuses more on reader x bf! Jason, gosh I was not expecting this to become an actual series LOL! This part is mostly Percy centric! Also, i wasn't expecting my first hc list to get that many notes?? Like 72 notes is a LOT for me especially if it's for something that I've never done before! So thank you!

•Jason's disappearance would drive you INSANE. I'm not even kidding, those 6 months would be the worst you've ever had. Almost as bad as Annabeth, and it's not just because your maybe-boyfriend disappeared. It's because your sleep was PLAGUED with nightmares about this mysterious lady who called herself the earth mother. She kept trying to recruit you to her side. Gaia was trying to make you join her. But you didn't even know that it was Gaia, at that point.

• Since you were linked to the earthen side of Neptune, and Gaia wanted ALL forces of earth to join her against demigods, you were her main target, along with Percy and Jason. You'd be the easiest to manipulate amongst all big three children , since your powers reeked of earth.

•You anxiously told Reyna about these nightmares, but she waved off the suspicion as stress, with you being unnerved about Jason’s whereabouts or something.

•You also got dreams about a teenage boy with black hair, wandering around the streets of San Francisco helplessly, something about this boy felt super tranquil (yes it's Percy lol)

•And don't get me started about the senators' uproar about their praetor’s disappearance. Conspiracies swirled around the whole camp.

•Octavian was NOT helping the matters, the guy was such a drama king. He cooked up this wild story that YOU were the reason Jason disappeared, taking advantage of the point that Jupiter and Neptune were rivals to give himself an upper hand in his argument.

•He also latched on to the point that all of these atrocities were happening because YOU were a bad omen to camp, which unfortunately, convinced the whole senate. The whole camp now hates you more than ever.

•And guess what happened? You weren't even a full centurion anymore. Ppl thought you would lead your cohort to conspire against everyone, so they forced poor Reyna to transfer the centurion-ship to Gwendolyn.

•Octavian also deliberately refused to look for Jason because he was happy to get rid of the son of Jupiter.

•Nico and Reyna were your only support systems at this point. Reyna elected you as the unofficial praetor (not that she told anyone else, of course, this was a secret between you both, she needed another praetor in place of jason, and she badly wanted it to be you, but the senators begged to differ) so you were secretly helping Reyna to help reinforcements to look for Jason.

• Nico would actually be such a big comfort to you. Bringing you coca cola from McDonald’s while you both just sat in silence in pluto's shrine wallowing in sadness lol

•Okay okay I'm yapping so much, so here comes the best part. The most anticipated one. Your brother Percy Jackson's arrival.

•You actually weren't in camp when he dramatically came by, you were in Temple hill, trying to convince a thick headed octavian to burn his god damn bears and issue a prayer to Jupiter about Jason. That jerk was so stubborn. So you were practically yelling at each other.

•That's also EXACTLY when Percy and Hazel get sent to Octavian by Reyna. So while they were approaching you, you were just in shock and stopped mid way from the argument you and Octavian were currently having and stared at Percy. He was the same boy in your dreams.

• This strange boy had worn the same expression as he stared at you. Shock. Unbeknownst to you, Percy had been having dreams about your wispy face as well.

• Hazel told Percy about you after he dramatically charged into camp as a child of Neptune. Percy would actually be SO excited when he finds out that he has a sister in this mysterious camp.

• But TWO children of Neptune? At the same place? Same time? This all brought on such an uproar amongst campers

• Octavian had practically hardwired the whole “Neptune children are unlucky” thing into ppls mind so much that everyone was worried that Percy's arrival meant something bad was happening.

• When Percy met you though, he'd actually find you very closed off and rigid. But he cannot help being soft around you, since you were practically his younger sister.

• You'd deliberately avoided him a little. Because you were SO overwhelmed with everything. How did you dream about your nonexistent brother before you actually knew he existed? You actually had a hard time trusting him with everything going on, so you'd act a little cold around him for the first day. Even Reyna would notice your lack of enthusiasm when you welcomed Percy to your legion.

• But you failed to intimidate Percy. like miserably. You'd shoot him grumpy looks, only to find him smiling back at you. You felt kind of bad now. Since Percy looked like he badly wanted to talk to you.

• so. You planned a secret excursion. You were both in the same cohort, so you had no problem tapping Percy on the shoulder at lunch, and told him to meet you at your dad's shrine at around 12 AM.

• Percy was super confused at your sudden offer but he obliged anyway out of curiosity.

• so he'd be walking around the shrine like a lost puppy, admiring how new his dad's statue looked. Hazel had told him about your efforts to bring glory to Neptune, and how you'd never miss a day to clean his shrine, and percy'd admire that. Like a lot. He knew there's more to you than what people said about you in camp.

• "Good old dad huh?" You'd say as you came inside the shrine, startling Percy so bad that he'd trip on his own shoelace.

• That shit was hilarious as hell lol making you holler with laughter.

• He'd be super embarassed but would totally laugh along with you.

• Okay so the first few minutes would be painfully awkward. I mean, what do you say to your long lost sibling you never knew you had?

• But Percy would interrupt by telling you that he'd had dreams of you. Which shocked you to the core. Because you had them aswell, that piece of information would leave him shocked aswell.

• So after this info dump, the conversation after would flow so naturally?? Like where did all the awkwardness go? You'd both talk about everything, you'd tell Percy about Jason (though you kinda left out the boyfriend bit lolz) and he'd tell you about Annabeth.

• You'd walk Percy around the streets of New Rome, breaking curfew, like you always did, as you told him "well you deserved a proper sisterly tour of the city yesterday, I'm sorry I didn't give you that, I just had a lot on my mind, I DO want to get to know you more, you are my brother, after all".

• All of these words would leave Percy overwhelmed tbh. He'd been so scared that you wouldn't talk to him, and that you may not want have a sibling dynamic with him. But he was wrong. You were still a little awkward, but you were trying. And that made him feel a rush of brotherly affection for you. You were nothing like the scary/grumpy heartless girl you were perceived to be by the other campers.

• the whole excursion-with-your-brother-to-bond with-him thing actually worked. You had no idea what you were doing, but it worked. You got to know stuff about him, even though he barely remembered a thing, and as much as you hated to admit it, you sort of overshared with him. The bullying you faced at camp, how everyone called you names, scoffed at you, how Octavian was being. well. Octavian. Your dad not noticing you, So all in all, you shared basically everything with guy. And no, you still left out the boyfriend detail, he ain't gonna know about that lol

• It actually helped you get those things off of your chest. But at the same time, you had too much fun maintaing the grumpy mean girl persona, and now that you've given him your tragic villian backstory, you no longer had the "mystery" aura around you anymore, and you were sure Percy thought of you as a small marshmallow he needed to protect. You didn't need protecting.

• And you were SO right, Percy got super protective the next day, the change was SO visible, that even Reyna noticed and asked you about it.

• you kept the sibling excursion trip a secret though lol no way were you scrubbing the streets with toothbrushes again. You'd broken enough rules.

• So now, the curfew thing just became an inside joke between you guys lol

• Percy would SO introduce you to blue food. Tell me he wouldn't.

• Okay so after loads of protesting and senate Mayhem, you'd go on the quest to free thanatos, along with Percy, Hazel and Frank, where you also found out that you were a part of the prophecy. You'd discover that you and Percy's powers would work SO well together.

• You both would look like a power duo in all honesty, you'd cause the earth around you to tremble, while Percy made the waves accelerate. Frank and Hazel almost fainted omg

• Octavian was SO sure you were going to fail the quest.

• Jokes on him, his expression when you and Percy rode on Mrs O Leary, carrying the golden eagle together, screaming "Twelfth Legion! Fulminata!" was hilarious. He looked angry, shocked and murderous all at the same time.

• I kid you not, The amount of celebration you and Percy got after you came back was insane. You were both elected as praetor the same day. Yes, I know there can only be 2, but at that point, not even Octavian could deny the fact that you both deserved praetorship. (Sucks that it only lasted a few days before you guys ran off to the argo ii)

• Percy's arrival had helped you as a person, and helped restore glory to your father Neptune and the twelfth legion. All of a sudden, Neptune children, were regarded as lucky charms. You both would definitely go down in the Camp Jupiter history reports as the sibling duo who restored the golden eagle to Rome again, after many many years.

• okay now that the plot centric stuff with Percy is over, lemme just add a few extra stuff.

• you and Percy would have SUCH different auras, it was actually hilarious. You'd be dark and broody, Percy would be calm and serene (well, most of the time) which was GOOD. Bc if you both were mad, then I'll send the world some thoughts and prayers, mostly prayers. Since it would end in an avalanche mess.

• also, i forgot to mention, you broke your imperial gold sword in the quest, that left you shattered. Bc that sword held memories. But in return? You got something SO much better.

• Your good old father, Neptune, had appeared in the praetorship ceremony, (leaving Octavian terrified) and congratulated you and Percy for being "such a pride symbol" for him (Percy got SO mad, like oh. NOW you notice us pops?) but yeah, Neptune, told you that your efforts to restore glory to him was very much noticed ad appreciated, by him.

• Neptune had given you something else as a replacement for your sword. It was a pearl bracelet but when you tapped it twice, It turn into this unique aqua coloured metal, that would transform into any sort of weapon you wanted. But the catch, is that it could only be one weapon at a time. This was eerily similar to Jason's coin-sword and Percy's Riptide.

• Percy had sassed the hell out of Neptune on your behalf though lol I mean, the guy has every right to be angry, His sister was neglected for SO long?

• in a way, percy also felt super guilty bc now tha he got his memories back, he knew Poseidon would visit him a lot, but his Roman side never visited his other child up until this point? He felt like he had a privilege you didn't.

• Sally would totally love you. She'd coddle you as much as she does percy tbh.

Update: part three is just out!

https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746677981633724416/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons-list-part?source=share

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concreteburialplot · 1 year

Text

VIRALITY // 01

01 - Business Offer

summary/masterlist: here

word count: 1.6k

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc / nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc

crossposted on: ao3 & wattpad

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

I sat in a random white conference room for a meeting I'd been invited to with a potential client. The email I received came from the record label itself and specifically stated it would be a "strictly need-to-know basis" – so need to know that I didn't even know whom I was meeting.

Since my recent success with a chart-topping heartthrob, these meetings had gotten quite frequent. Though, not one had enticed me enough to take them on.

While I tapped my fingers on the glossy white table-top there was a bustle of male voices booming from down the hall, approaching the door. Instant disappointment fluttered in my chest - I wanted to take on a female client. I hadn't gotten the chance to really look over the label's roster to see whom they could possibly try to pair me with, but I sure was regretting it now.

Suddenly, the door opened, pouring in a flood of suit-and-tie businessmen followed by what I could only presume to be the talent; four tall, skinny men. Three with long past-shoulder length hair and one with slicked back short hair, all four adorned with ample tattoos. The last one to walk in had medium brown hair and tattoos trailing all the way up to his jawline. His fingers were wrapped in thick metal rings and his wrists with beaded bracelets. All four were in far from business attire; each with some variation of band tees, some with sleeves, some without and black jeans across the board. For a second I wondered if maybe they'd gotten me mixed up with somebody else.

I knew immediately what my answer would be before anyone said a word.

"Good evening Valerie." The most intimidating executive said as the rest took their seats around the rectangular table. Men like him used to intimidate me but it's amazing how success changes the way men treat you. Money is a powerful thing to hold in front of someone who wants it. The salt-and-pepper-haired man held out his hand, "I'm Richard Callahan, we spoke on the phone?"

"You can call me Vallie, or Val." I gave a tight-lipped smile and shook his hand, "Nice to meet you."

Richard gave me that ever identical overly enthusiastic smile that every businessman has before any big presentation. "This is my associate, Anthony." Pointing to another cookie-cutter executive, then gesturing towards the other four. "And this is the band, Bad Omens." Finally introducing the mystery men that had plopped into the office chairs at the head of the table opposite from me. "This is Jolly and Nicholas, the guitarists." Pointing to the other two long haired men. "Nick, drums." Motioning towards the slicked-back hair one. "And of course, this is Noah, the front man." The brunette man, whom I had already assumed to be the lead singer, propped his leather booted feet on the table. All of the men gave me a small nice-to-meet-you wave, except Noah.

Richard gave a nervous laugh, "Oh don't mind Noah." He waved away his actions, "He's just dramatic."

"Nice to meet you." I said professionally even though I was disgusted with his tactless act. Before the business brigade could speak again, "What kind of music do you make?" Speaking directly to the evidently pompous musician who hadn't even looked at me.

Chocolate brown eyes lined with thick lashes snapped up at me for the first time, "Metal." He said shortly. His voice was deeper than I anticipated it being.

"Uh - Rock." Richard clarified with a slightly anxious smile, "They're a rock band." Evidently trying to water down the genre for your regular wheelhouse.

"I'm sorry Richard, but I just don't represent 'rock' stars." I said curtly, closing the portfolio I'd brought.

He let out a sigh, lightly gripping the back of the tucked-in leather chair he stood behind, "Yes, we're aware. However, this could be a unique opportunity for you."

I raised my brows and picked up one of the various branded pens on the table, "Oh yeah? And what would that be?" Dragging my fingertips along the smooth generic plastic pen; the action could seem intimidating, but really it was just me fidgeting.

"Well, you see, Bad Omen's previous manager... quit." Your brows knitted at his careful wording. "Just after he left, the band started to go viral on Tiktok."

There it was, the magic word. The magic – money – word. It was like I was in a completely different meeting with different lenses on my eyes. Now that I was seeing things more clearly, I noticed a quite odd energy in the room, a sort of... tension? confliction?

I cleared my throat and intertwined my fingers on the table, "Now that's all fine and good, but anyone can go viral."

"Here's the thing," Anthony spoke up, spreading his olive-toned fingers out on the tabletop. "They went viral just days before they announced a new tour." My brow peaked in interest indicating for him to continue. "The tour sold out within minutes."

I tapped the plastic pen into my palm processing the words when Richard interjected again, "We had to book new bigger venues. We've upgraded nearly every venue."

"Uh huh..." I hummed watching the pen roll between my fingers taking in the details. "And why me?" Looking back up at Richard. "I know there are various publicists and marketing managers out there for alternative artists."

"Great question!" And the businessman's smile returned, "We want to-"

"They wanna sell us out." A raspy voice snapped from the long-haired singer.

Richard gave a nervous chuckle waving away his words, replacing them with business jargon, "We want to position the band to be the new 'mainstream rock band'."

"Uh...Huh..." My gaze landed on each pair of eyes looking at me, attempting to piece together the bizarre puzzle in front of me.

"We don't want to sell out." Spoke up the darker-haired guitarist, Nicholas. "We wanna be successful, of course, but we're okay with staying small if it means we don't sell out. If we can stay genuine."

While it presented a good challenge, it had been a while since a true rock band was on the radio stations. Trying to make rock mainstream was almost always fruitless, it just never happens the way it's intended. Especially metal, if this really was a metal band, it would be nearly impossible to do.

"I'm not trying to make it big." The lead dropped his booted feet off the table and to the ground with a heavy thud, "I'm just trying to make music that means something to people. I just wanna make music and perform, that's all."

"But you signed a contract no?" I spoke up from across the table, resulting in every face turning to me. The managers' expressions were surprised and excited but the musicians' not so much. "Contract" seemed to always be a dirty word in these sorts of meetings.

"Yes, exactly!" Richard praised me with enthusiastic hands, "They signed a multi-year contract with us." The energy between the managers and the band was intriguing, it was almost like they were scared of the band. Maybe their power or their fans? Or maybe their volatile reactions. But it was odd, nothing I'd ever seen before. These big-wig executive types typically aren't scared of anything, let alone 4 twenty-something-year-old boys. Perhaps they were just trying to break even on a bad investment. Whatever it was, it was something I wasn't seeing yet.

"That bastard signed the contract for us." Snapped Noah, dropping a concrete fist on the table reverberating the thump across the small conference room. I backed up at the loud slam as fear briefly trickled down my spine.

"I told you, it doesn't matter. He still made us put our signatures on the paper." Jolly tried to ration, his voice had a bit of an accent I couldn't quite place. Though, it was clear that he was the more even-tempered and logical one – maybe slightly older?

"Shut up Jolly." The talent retorted, waving away his reasoning, "We don't need another goddamn manager. We've done just fine handling ourselves."

"You know I'm not a full manager, right? I'm a marketing manager and I can handle some publicity, but I'm not a sheep herder." I peeked a brow at the men, my eyes following them each down the line.

"Yes, we will take over any management duties you can't fulfil. We just need you to bring people to them and keep the fans happy."

The sight before me was quite telling of what trying to manage and publicize this band would look like, that combined with the low probability of achieving their lofty goals didn't seem at all enticing, nonetheless lucrative. I got lucky with my current client who was an absolute joy to be around and direct but this – this just seemed like a giant headache.

"Listen, Richard," Making it a point to address him directly, "I just don't think I am the right fit for this...project."

"Just one concert." Anthony spoke up from the background, "They have a show tonight, just come hang out backstage. Watch the performance, watch the crowd, watch the merch sales. Then give us an answer."

My temple pulsed under my fingertips as they rolled in circles contemplating the overly forced pitch. Whether it was the eyes boring into me, the circumstances of their virality, the challenge, or all of the above, I didn't know – but I agreed. "Fine. One show. That's it."

-> Next Chp: 02 - Small Venues

thank you if you got this far! i didn’t see many bad omens fics, so i wanted to contribute.

i write for other fandoms so i just used the same format as i do for them 😊

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vroomvroomwee · 7 months

Text

I can't watch horror movies the same way after Good Omens

Oh you're trying to summon a demon? I hope it's a nice one like Crowley

Damn there's a demon behind the door? Probably Crowley playing a prank

Oh no this character is possessed by a demon? Lol. Doesn't sound so bad

Ooh look at the gnarly practical effects. Reminds me of Beelzebub aw

They killed the demon? :(

He probably had an angel to get back to at home fuck you humans

#good omens #goodomens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #goodomenss2 #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #goodomenss2spoilers #horror #horror movies

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v0rewhxre · 3 months

Note

Hi! Would you mind writing about how it would be dating Noah?🥰

Hello! Of course my love!

CW: Fluffy Fluff, mentions of mental health issues, a little sexual section nothing super descriptive

************************************************************************

I think dating Noah would be a wild ride. Between his growing fame, constant touring, and Bad Omen's growing success, having a relationship is not always easy.

Noah seems to be one goofy motherfucker. You'd probably have a lot of inside jokes together, things that sound really dumb to other people, but make you bust a gut together (think the BBC video (big brown chair lol)). Sometimes he says something that sounds slightly inappropriate and you both crack up laughing. Other times he's pulling silly little pranks on you or making dumb faces in serious moments.

According to Noah, he is extremely boring... I take this as he does not leave the house, and you're fine with that. You love movie nights where you binge entire seasons of anime, although you struggle during the filler episodes. You spend days reading books together, just sitting silently together in your beautiful living (designed by Noah). His love language is quality time and physical touch, so while sitting together he's always slightly touching you.

When you get to join on tour, Noah never let's you out of his sight. He's extremely protective of you because like Bad Omens, you are his baby. He's always looking at you from across the room, whether goofing around with the guys or performing in front of large crowds. Sometimes he specifically points to you when he sings certain parts of songs, letting you know that even on stage he's thinking of only you. Although Noah is very private, if a fan leaks a pic of you holding hands it doesn't bother him. He won't hide you because why would he?

It's not unknown that he has struggled with mental health issues from things in his past. I think that would make its way into the relationship a little in the sense he may need constant validation that you love him. He may have slight trust issues, but with his healing process ongoing he's learning to let go and love someone fully. You have also taught him that sometimes it's ok not to be in control.

I think Noah would be very supportive in your own wellness and growth. He would support you in your own journey of mental health. He would never push his ideologies on you, allowing you to be your own person. He's made a name for himself and he wants to support you in your dreams regardless of what they are.

As far as intimacy goes, you're very touchy as mentioned above. Nothing crazy, but you are always slightly touching or leaning into each other. Sexually you're both very compatible, trying new things to spice up your sex life but also being comfortable in just missionary. Noah is very attentive to your needs, putting you before himself. You show him that he deserves that intimacy. You worship him and make him feel wanted and loved.

Ok those are a few thoughts I had, nothing too too specific but I think it works!

Hope you like it!!!

#noah sebastian #asks #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #bad omens

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adiluv · 9 months

Text

❥ SEER + HOMEMAKER SPOUSE HCS. ˚⊹꒷

🍞୧・꒰word count꒱ 1230.

🌼୧・꒰warnings꒱ takes place pre-manor, possibly ooc.

🍮୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! these were originally supposed to be combined into one post, though i decided to split them since they ended up full length regardless, lol. i had a lot of fun writing this, i think it's a super adorable scenario! hope you enjoy! ꒰ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ꒱

you can find naib's version here!

꒰🦉꒱・Eli is honestly such a huge softie, and—in my honest opinion—would be one of the more doting husbands out of the entirety of the Identity V cast. He absolutely adores you, a sentiment that he’s never hesitated to make known ꒰whether it be to you or anybody within a five mile radius꒱, and you just can’t help but adore him all the same. The poor man was probably even scouring his visions to try and figure out what married life would be like before the wedding, if it gives you any sort of insight into how in love with you he is. And, since he did go through with it, I think it’s safe to say that he enjoyed what he saw!

꒰🦉꒱・I believe that Eli would also be the type to enjoy living in a cottage outside of the city, though not exactly for the same reasons that Naib may prefer to. Of course, while some of his motivation does relate to his desire to give you a space to decorate to your heart's content—he just loves how cute your personal style is—he’s also… just a big fan of how cozy and quaint it is. The city has its charms, of course, though he’d much rather live more peacefully beside you, away from the ‘rise and grind’ lifestyle. Even still, I’d say that your cottage would probably be quite close to the city, as it would be far more convenient for the both of you.

꒰🦉꒱・For the most part, although he does enjoy keeping your company, he fully trusts you to take care of yourself, seeing no need to try and restrict your personal freedoms. You’re your own person, after all. I don’t exactly see him as the type to become jealous ꒰that easily꒱ or overly worrisome, so he’s very much alright with letting you do whatever you’d like to—just as long as the two of you communicate with each other. His abilities as a seer, which he’d been open about with you since the beginning of your relationship, provide an extra sense of protection—even if he’s unable to tell you about the future that he foresees.

꒰🦉꒱・Although he’s forbidden to inform anybody about the events that he foresees within his visions, he’s come to realize that he can still take steps to act against it. After all, what he sees references a possible future—not necessarily the one that’s already set in stone. As such, any and all attempts to sway the outcomes of events are done incredibly precisely and subtly, years of having to keep the details of these prophecies secret giving him an incredible edge.

꒰🦉꒱・Most of the time, you don’t even know that he’s acting on his foresight, only realizing afterwards whenever he becomes extra cuddly with you. What better way to celebrate the aversion of a potential disaster than snuggling up with your loved one, right? In the case that you do notice, however, it’s quite easy to confirm your suspicions. You love your husband, you really do—but any and all attempts of lying to you are quickly rendered useless by the small expression of guilt that appears on his face. He’s just… not a fan of lying to you, really.

꒰🦉꒱・He walks a very fine line when it comes to his duties as a seer and his duties as Eli, his decisions to counteract any bad omens sometimes already putting him at risk for ‘punishment’—whatever that punishment may be. And while he may not always spare you the full extent of his stakes ꒰he’d hate to scare you, after all꒱, he’s eternally grateful that he was able to meet you somewhere along the journey of his life. Powers be damned—this man is absolutely head over heels for his spouse!

꒰🦉꒱・Eli’s paycheck isn’t quite as large as Naib’s, a combination of factors having to blame for such circumstances. While you might’ve initially assumed that he’d be loaded—believing that he could easily make a fortune on telling people their fortunes—his restrictions keep that from being a viable option. Not to mention that there’s already many self-proclaimed seers running along, though Eli always says that they rely more on smooth-talking their clients than actually using any sort of foresight.

꒰🦉꒱・His preferred method of acquiring money is usually through picking up smaller jobs that interest him—with his visions helping him realize when certain opportunities are better than others. Simple manual labor, or perhaps even acting as a helping hand for somebody in need—he’s a firm believer in helping those that are less fortunate than him, and it’s something that he takes a great amount of pride in. The only downside is that some jobs require him to leave the house for days at a time, though he does his best to get back to you as soon as possible.

꒰🦉꒱・Although the both of you may not be able to shop until your heart’s content ꒰not that I see Eli being much of a big spender, regardless꒱he does quite enjoy saving up money in order to surprise you with gifts. Just like many things within his life, his visions do tend to come in handy for this sort of thing, especially considering that all he needs to do is pick up a gift in order to figure out whether or not you’d enjoy it. Throughout all of the time that you’ve known him—whether it be as friends, lovers, or spouses, there hasn’t been a singular instance of him gifting you something you’ve disliked.

꒰🦉꒱・On the other hand, however, shopping for Eli tends to be a far more strenuous task—though not for the reason that you might expect. You know what to get him, and that he’d really just love anything, so long as you chose it for him out of the goodness of your heart… But you also know that you’ll never be able to keep it a secret from him. It’s a little sad, you think, that he knows what’s beneath the wrapping paper before it’d even been wrapped. He’ll at least try to pretend that he’s oblivious, feeling the gift and making some purposefully incorrect guesses before opening it. It’s a small gesture, but it really means a lot to him.

꒰🦉꒱・A big fan of cuddling, a fact that's remained constant throughout the entirety of your relationship—though I don’t quite see him as having a preference for being the big or little spoon. Truthfully, he’s just happy to be there. Do you want him to hold you? Sure! You won’t even have to let him know when you need to get up, he’s already retracting his arms to let you take care of whatever it is that came up! Do you want to hold him? Absolutely! He’s eagerly walking over to you before the words even leave your mouth!

꒰🦉꒱・And, of course, it’s impossible to leave out Brooke! Although she’d take some time to warm up to you when you’d started dating Eli, she becomes very affectionate once she finally does. She’ll allow you to pet and hold her, even abandoning her post on Eli’s shoulder to come and sit on yours—so long as he’s not going out for the day. She’ll even flutter around and try to help you with any chores, something that you deeply appreciate—though she will steal any food that you’ve cooked. The three of you really are just a happy family!

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#identity v #idv #identity 5 #id5 #idv seer #idv eli #eli clark #eli clark x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v headcannons #idv headcannons #identity v headcanons #idv headcanons

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badaziraphaletakes · 24 days

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Uuhhh help what do I do to avoid having bad takes?? I like using my blog to just talk on and on about my Good Omens thoughts. And I love Aziraphale very much and the last thing I'd want to do is ramble on and on about nonsense thinking I'm so smart, have it be a bad take, and get people frustrated/offended/etc...

Is it about media literacy? Thinking more? I'm not sure-

Thank you for your time!

Thank you for a very thoughtful and considerate question!

We'd say it's mainly about being a decent human being, really. :) As long as we're all doing that, we'll all be fine.

Bad takes are autiphobic (is that a word? It is now lol) and/or otherwise ableist, and/or blame victims, and/or are misogynistic, racist, homophobic, transphobic, and/or otherwise bigoted, damaging, offensive, and problematic.

We call our blog @badaziraphaletakes because it's catchy, but it really would be more accurate for it to be called @offensiveaziraphaletakes (or @offensivegoodomenstakes more broadly, because we've noticed there are a lot of offensive/problematic takes about Crowley too). We don't feature takes that we disagree with but aren't actively offensive. (We did this a couple times at the beginning and realized pretty quickly that it just went against the intended spirit and purpose of this blog). So in that sense, we personally wouldn't worry too much about generating a take that's simply bad. If media literacy is the only thing wrong with a take (or it's just, as you put it, nonsense) - who cares really? Not us. 😊 Have fun and generate all the nonsense you like. We support you!

Now, supposing, on the other hand, that one does generate a genuinely bad (i. e. offensive/problematic) take - all is not lost. All that is needed is to apologize to those who were offended by it (perhaps with a brief explanation about why it's problematic) and not spread that take anymore. I

Mod X says: I have spread a problematic GO take or two (namely, the one that said Crowley was arrogant before he fell comes to mind) in the past myself. Now that I know better, I don't spread those takes anymore. And so it's all fine. It's honestly fine. :)

Hope this is helpful!

Here is a picture of a super-cute smiling Aziraphale to bless your day. Because we all need more of that.