#miserable little cocksuckers

[star-suh]

Straight as A Line

Park Jinyoung x Male Reader

cw: homophobic top jinyoung, rough sex, dubious consent, hickeys, college au, swearing at each other, cheating, feminization, porn with a little of plot, a redemption arc for jinyoung lol… 

an: lmfaoooo that redemption arc happened when my music suddenly changed to lana del rey's songs changing the whole mood, i'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted anon 😭🙏

this was a request.

—

the university where y/n was studying was planning a trip to go camping in the mountains. it was a dream trip for y/n, he could be close to nature and breathe that pure fresh air but all that sounded too nice to be true. 

"i don't know if i want to go on the trip, fuckass jinyoung is going and i don't feel like arguing with that son of a bitch" y/n tells his friend. 

jinyoung is one of those rich guys who have a lot of ass-lickers behind them, they do whatever he asks just for the money, also the guy is a fucking homophobe, when he found out that y/n is gay he started to make his life miserable. throwing slurs and swearing almost everyday towards the guy…

every student had an assigned seat “are we in school or something?” mocked jinyoung, his smile slowly fading seeing that he has to sit besides y/n “what the fuck? who put this pillow muncher beside me?” he yelled, “can you just shut the fuck up? you're not that important dude no one cares where you sit stop being a manchild” responded y/n making jinyoung's blood boil in anger.

“listen here, cocksucker. i don't want people like you near me you disgust me” he spat while signaling towards y/n with one finger. “stop signaling me you weirdo. you know that usually men who make fun of someone who is gay do it to cover up their homosexuality .. like why are you mad about me sucking a dick that's not so straight from you, jinyoung..” a grimace of laughter finding its way onto y/n's face while jinyoung's was red for the anger, y/n swear he can see the steam coming out of his ears.

jinyoung quietly accepted he lost this time and sat beside y/n ‘this is not going to stay like this’ he thought, crafting his revenge towards the guy.

it was night already, all the tents are ready and everyone is going inside them, y/n was getting ready to sleep in his sleeping bag when suddenly the zipper of his tent opens “what the fu-” a big hand covering his mouth to prevent him from making any noises. “hello motherfucker” jinyoung smiled “you thought i forgot what you said on the bus dirty whore? i think someone should teach you manners and how to be a nice obedient bitch, what do you think?”.

managing to get away from the strong grip of jinyoung's hand on his mouth y/n says “what the fuck are you talking about you fucking psycho, get out of my fucking tent before i start to scream”.

jinyoung's big veiny hand found its way towards y/n neck squeezing it hard “do it and what i'm gonna do next it's gonna be worse, you hear me?” scared by how menacing the words came out of his mouth y/n just nodded, “what do you want then, a public apology?. fucking asshole”.

“you see.. i was talking with my girlfriend and i got so horny-”, “and? do i look like some type of… friend to you? i don't wanna know shit about it” interrupted y/n. “anyways as i said” jinyoung continued “i'm so bricked that my dick is poking his way out of my shorts, so i was looking for a way to calm it but the rest of the bitches are sleeping and apparently you're the only one bitch awake so… i thought why not use this opportunity to help you be my obedient slut. after all you like cocks” he slapped gently y/n's cheeks. “fuck you” are the only words coming out of y/n's mouth…

“shh be quiet” whispered jinyoung while forcing his cock down y/n's throat, the gagging sounds making him more horny “you're so talented at cocksucking, truly a whore. you do it better than my girlfriend” he snickered while thrusting his thick cock. 

“never thought i would see you this fucked up” jinyoung was stroking his cock while y/n was laying down panting, trying to catch his breath, with spit and cum covering his face “talking about dirty whores when you can't keep that thing inside your pants. coming here like a needy bitch looking for a hole to fuck”.

jinyoung just stared at y/n with a smirk on his face “i'm not done with you slut, look at this” he pokes his rock hard cock making it bounce a little “i'm gonna wreck your boypussy. come here” his hand snaking around y/n's shorts and discarding them quickly, along with the underwear. “leave me alone whore” y/n tried to push jinyoung with his feet but the bastard was so strong… and sexy.

jinyoung spat on his fingers and rub it on y/n's rim the cold fluid sending shivers up his spine “hngh.. stop it manwhore…” the pleasure clouding his thinking. jinyoung slap his fuckmeat on the rim and slowly introduce it, drawing a loud moan grom y/n due to the stretching “shush be quiet. you don't want someone to find us right? or is that what you want? woah what a pervert” y/n just ignored the comment and sucked on jinyoung's fingers.

“is that all you got, fragile masculinity slut?. not gonna be surprised if your girlfriend kicks you, you suck at fucki-” a slap landed on y/n's cheek. “stop being a loud motherfucker and let me fuck your pussy” his anger being canalized into fucking y/n “i don't give a fuck if you like it or not” he growls “i’m only here to use you like you let other men do”.

“fuck i love the sight of your gaping pussy. after being passed around the whole university is still so tight… even more than my girlfriend's”. “can you stop mentioning her you asshole?. she deserves a better man than you” y/n says, accommodating himself to ride jinyoung “let's get this over with, i want you gone”.

everytime he goes down y/n makes sure to do it hard causing jinyoung to moan very loudly, “look who's the loud bitch now. you call yourself a man and can't even handle me”. jinyoung laughed quickly grabbing y/n by his ankles pulling them towards him folding y/n in the process, his dick going in and out. y/n squirmed, his eyes rolled back and mouth agape, feeling that cock reaching so deep inside him, no other cock has made him feel like that.

“what happened pillow muncher.. too much to handle?” he starts sucking hickeys in the back of y/n's neck. “i'm gonna breed this pussy and after this you're gonna be mine you hear me?” he whispered while flipping y/n a fuck him while he leans on his back “no… i don't belong to.. to anyone not even to a loser like you” the older just ignored it and continued looking for his pleasure.

“guess you're not that straight macho after all” y/n murmured drawing jinyoung's attention, “just because i'm stretching your boypussy and about to cream it right now doesn't make me a homo… i'm straight as a line..”. y/n with his hooded eyes make eye contact with the top, smiled and caressed his cheek “even the straightest line can be curved dumbass” he then kisses his forehead “c'mon cream this fucking pussy… isn't this what you want hurry up before someone wakes up” fucking himself in jinyoung's dick y/n also searched for his pleasure his cock splurting with cum minutes later landing on jinyoung's chest and abs, while that happened he squeezed so hard that jinyoung came without realizing it, emptying his balls in the insatiable hole of y/n. 

jinyoung tried to catch his breath resting his head on y/n's chest falling asleep, followed by y/n minutes later.

the ride back to university was surprisingly quiet, jinyoung didn't say a word about sitting next to y/n, everyone was surprised. one by one they got off the bus with jinyoung and y/n being the last, the tall one grabbed the shorter one by the hand so that he wouldn't come down yet. "i'm going to break up with my girlfriend... what i’m doing with her is not right." "wow, at least there's some empathy inside that empty skull" y/n responded. jinyoung just laughed looking at y/n with a fond smile "sigh... i'm so sorry for what i’ve put you through all these years... i know that's not going to change the damage i've already done but i want to start being a good person… wanna go eat lunch? it's on me".

surprised by the sudden change y/n wondered what happened with him last night “are you okay? did you eat something strange this morning?”. “no fucking asshole i just… i just wanted to change my behaviour… you know if the straightest line can be curved that means that we can change and it's never too late to do it” y/n just stared at him dumbfounded “are you being serious right now? are you philosophizing over a silly phrase i just made up…ugh fucking corny anyways is free food and i can't say no to that so text me where is it and see you there. i guess..” y/n was about to get off but turned around, stood up and pet jinyoung's head, a slight blush covering his cheeks. jinyoung just stood there watching y/n get off the bus with a smile slowly forming in his face.

#jinyoung x male reader #park jinyoung x male reader #jinyoung x male reader smut #park jinyoung x male reader smut #got7 x male reader #got7 jinyoung #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

[jiminiecrickets]

Seven days a week couple oc getting hit on in a club and jk being extremly jealous drabble

nsfw for oral (reader receiving), public sex

"hey, handsome."

you nearly crash into someone, grip tightening on two drinks you're carrying back from the bar. you release a soft sigh of relief when the liquid in them settles. "hi. excuse me, please."

you weave around the young man, hastening your step. you don't get far before he steps in front of you again, grinning up at you with hungry eyes.

"where are you off to in such a hurry? c'mon, let's chat a while. my name's hyungbae."

"i am off to see my boyfriend," you say particularly, glancing over the heads of the crowds. you can't find him anywhere and he's not at the table you left him at – shit. he's probably in the bathroom.

"oh, really? which one is he? i wanna congratulate him – he must be gorgeous to catch someone like you."

"he is very beautiful," you agree, trying to edge your way around him. he follows, though, and it's too crowded to simply run off. you can't be bothered to be any sort of polite for this stranger. he doesn't deserve it. you play dumb. "long hair, nice arms, great ass. oh, and those thighs are just amazing when they're up on my shoulders – i would fuck him 'til my hips fracture."

he blinks, a little taken aback by your crass words and airy voice. still, he perseveres, which is more than you can say of other people. "are you sure you don't want to try something different? hey, five minutes in that alley outside together, maybe you'll be a little more interested."

you chuckle. "five minutes? that's a little sad." you stop next to the empty table you once occupied with jungkook. "i'm flattered, but i'm really not interested. i am perfectly happy with my partner and wouldn't throw him away for anything – especially not a five-minute handy."

"that wasn't the plan, handsome. people often change their minds after i use my mouth," he says slyly.

"hey, baby. this asshole bothering you?"

both of you turn as jungkook approaches, his face dark with simmering anger. he hooks his finger in your belt loop, staring hyungbae down. you smile at him, pressing your lips to his temple. he doesn't tear his eyes away, but leans into your touch.

"yes," you say pleasantly, and the man's eyes widen incredulously. "i told him i had a loving partner, but he still followed me all the way from the bar and won't stop asking me to let him suck my dick."

if possible, his expression darkens even further, his jaw working as his molars grind. his eyes narrow. jungkook leans in and fixes him with a dangerous glare.

"you think you can bother my boyfriend by telling him how miserable you are?" he growls. "do you have no respect for yourself? you don't even get paid for it, yet you go around begging randos to stick their dicks in your mouth for five measly minutes! shit, man, this was the most pathetic attempt at trying to fuck my boyfriend i've ever seen, and i've seen many. usually, i go on the normal spiel of 'he's mine, back the hell up', but you don't even deserve that. fuck off, cocksucker, before i knock out your damn teeth."

he glares as the man scampers off, stumbling over his own feet. he harrumphs and takes a seat in your lap, as you had taken a spot at the table while he shouted. you smile gently and wrap your arm around his tiny waist, lifting the glass to your lips. "i'm so proud of you, sweetheart. you didn't shove or punch him once."

"i was about to," he growls, his arms folded across his chest. you can feel his heart thudding in his chest – he was really riled up. "motherfucker... i bet he doesn't even give good head. i'm much better at it."

you hum, soothing him by rubbing his hip and hooking your chin over his shoulder. "that's right. you do."

he shifts on your lap, lifting his chin as he glares daggers into the man's head. he's off standing in a corner, glancing back at jungkook every so often before rapidly whipping his head back around. "mhm... fuck, i'm so sick of people coming onto you the moment i disappear for one second. can you wear a mask next time we go out, or something? your good looks and lovely disposition are like a siren song to these assholes."

"if you want me to." you kiss his neck. "relax, love. you protected me so well tonight. you don't need to burn up like a firecracker anymore."

he huffs, leaning back against your chest. "sorry... i can't really help it. i'm just so – ugh, y'know?"

you tuck his hair back into his ponytail, smoothing it down. "it's okay, baby. i understand."

you glance back at hyungbae and get an idea.

"so, sweetheart... you said you were good with your mouth?"

"yeah." he glances back at you, arching an eyebrow. "what are you thinking about...?"

you give him a secret, filthy grin and glide your hand down his stomach to his bulge, making him jump and gasp, gripping your arms. "well, it's quite dark in here, and you're wearing black from head to toe. nobody would see you in the shadows."

he moans softly, nibbling on his lower lip. his eyes glitter mischievously. "oh, you're bad... so bad."

you kiss his cheek and he laughs softly. "are you telling me that you're not interested?"

your hand lifts from the front of his leather pants. he grabs your wrist and puts it back. "never said that. just that you're a very bad influence on me."

he tilts your face towards his and drops a deep kiss on your lips. he slides down your body, settling himself between your thighs and staring up at you with a grin under the table.

you lean back, glancing around, and run your hand over his curls, resting your palm on his ponytail. the other hand lifts your glass to your lips as he takes you eagerly into his mouth.

"hi there. are you drinking alone tonight?"

with a smile, you set down your glass and tilt your head towards the other glass of alcohol, which has sat untouched until now. "not at all. my boyfriend's here with me right now."

"oh, uh... right now? where is he?"

you grip jungkook's ponytail and pull him down on your cock. you smirk. "under the table."

#asks #jungkook x male reader #seven days a week

[shydragonrider]

When your Tears have Drowned You.

Warnings: Lady whumpee, past death of a minor mention, drowning mention, beating, swearing, Defiant whumpee, derogatory language, past trauma, creepy Whumper.

Notes: this is in the "current" arc, Red is 23 at this point.

Taglist @oddsconvert @purple-heart-x

It was never a good sign when Dorsun came down with came down cheerful. 

Well, it was never a good sign when he came down at all, but it was usually worse when he had that soulless grin. That meant he had something new he wanted to try, and that something usually brought horrific pain with it.

"I'll admit I'm impressed, Red, and that I underestimated you. I was told you were a nightmare when it came to obedience, but I figured my predecessor was just soft." Dorsun's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard, and Red’s scowl deepened. 

"Your old master called you a piranha, but I think it's more appropriate to call you a cockroach. All of this, and you still keep up your resistance." He added, eyes slowly trailing over the multitude of wounds on her body, ranging from small cuts to slashes that rent deep into muscle, some of which had been burned shut.

"I've had my deal of difficult pets, but you, you are the biggest pain in the ass I've ever encountered."

"If you want a nicer pet, get a dog and treat it nicely." Red sneered, earning herself another shock from her collar.

She barked a laugh at the small punishment. She'd gotten used to the shock collar long ago.

"How many times do I have to shock you before you learn not to speak until I tell you?"

"I'll listen to you when hell freezes over." Red hissed, earning another shock. She cackled again.

"Like I said, you're a cockroach in terms of resilience." Dorsun grumbled, grabbing her by the hair.

"And you're a cocksucker in terms of everything." Red sneered, earning a longer shock. 

"Aiming to get yourself more time in the water tank?"

A chill ran through her blood at the mention of drowning, being suffocated under the water, unable to get out, just like all those years ago. Maybe this time she'd end up like-

She snapped herself out of it, forcing a smile as she shrugged. 

"That gets old quick."

"Perhaps, but it's what really got to you, isn't it? Because you almost drowned as a child, didn't you, Melanie?"

Her blood turned to ice at the words. He knows. How does he know? How did he find out who I was?

"I thought so. It's taken me the two years I had you to find out where you came from, about your past. I hadn't been expecting to find much more than your name… but the accident, that was a treat."

"Shut up." Red snarled, hating the tremors that ran through her body.

Dorsun grinned at her, grabbing her jaw in a painful grip.

"It's how your friend Lisa died, isn't it. And you almost did too. No wonder you hate water. You couldn't save-" 

Before he could finish the sentence, Red wrenched free of his grip, and, catching his forearm between her teeth, she bit down hard. 

Dorsun screamed, smacking her hard. She didn't let go.

"Goddamn miserable little whore!" He shouted. A kick to her stomach knocked her to the floor. 

Red spat the chunk of flesh as Dorsun's boot slammed into her ribs, knocking the breath out of her.

The impact was accompanied by the sound of bone snapping. The flare of agony unmistakably a broken rib.

"You are in for it, you little monster." He snarled, yanking her head up by the hair. Red took a few shallow breaths, waiting until Dorsun leaned in closer, before she spat his own blood back into his face.

The blow to her cheek had her seeing stars, and the world tilted and tipped as she collapsed onto her injured side with a breathless scream.

Another blow slammed into her chest, leaving her choking for breath. Then another to her thigh. Then her back.

She wasn't conscious much longer after that.

The last thing she registered in her pain clouded senses, was the blood that had begin to stream out of the split open wounds, spreading in a pool around her.

Red.

#lady whump #whump #kit writes #trafficking whump #pet whump #When your Tears have Drowned You #lady whumpee #OC: Melanie Rivers aka Red #creepy Whumper #whumpblr #whumper #whumpee #beating #blood #defiant whumpee #past death mention #derogatory language

[transboykirito]

No one cares about your stupid birthday or your stupid tattoo. Vector’s lost child was updated today. That’s more important then your stupid birthday.

you sent this on my birthday and i forgot to delete it which works out GREAT for me because i’m having a terrible fucking week and YOU elected yourself to be my fucking punching bag for the next 5 minutes while i cry on my way to work

do you have any fucking idea how INSUFFERABLE YOU FUCKING PEOPLE ARE? i have done fucking NOTHING and you MISERABLE FUCKING SHITSTAINS have made it your life’s fucking purpose to kill me on behalf of a man who DOESN’T FUCKING CARE. he doesn’t care about YOU, he doesn’t care about ME, he doesn’t care about your dumb fucking SMEAR CAMPAIGN ON ME, HE DOESN’T FUCKING CARE.

if you think sending me all these fucking asks is going to make him pay attention to you then you’re sadly fucking mistaken. he won’t give you the time of day or the effort because you decide to push me to killing myself. he didn’t even put in the fucking effort to take 30 fucking seconds to send three tiny fucking words of “happy birthday taylor” to me so i don’t know WHAT you think YOU’RE fucking achieving here.

you’re all sad, pathetic, lonely fucking assholes who think that making someone else’s life a living hell benefits your own. your mothers should’ve swallowed and i hope you fucking brainless cocksuckers don’t breed.

you REFUSE to let ANYONE ELSE EVEN FUCKING EXIST in this fucking fandom because your sweet precious little GROWN ASS MAN is the only person allowed to fucking do ANYTHING. and if i leave you’re just gonna turn it on someone else. you get off on your power fantasy and the idea that you’ll get senpai to notice you and he’ll love you because you don’t even fucking love yourselves. he doesn’t. fucking. care. never has. never will. he’s tired of your shit. he’s tired of my shit. i’m tired of your shit AND his shit and the fuck of it all is that i STILL FUCKING LOVE HIM AND IT’S THROWING LOVE AT A BRICK FUCKING WALL.

i’ve spent so fucking long dealing with this fucking shit. i have spent every day since march of 2021 desperately trying to do better and be a better person and give people space so i don’t annoy them and be polite and quiet and speak when spoken to and not beg people for love because it’s pathetic and bothersome AND YET. EVERY FUCKING DAY I DEAL WITH THIS. every day i remember that being a better person has achieved NOTHING and that someone who was fucking FAMILY to me now doesnt love me and i have no impact or significance on his life anymore and probably never did in the fucking first place because i was a dumb kid AND YOU FUCKERS REMIND ME OF MY OWN INSIGNIFICANCE EVERY SINGLE DAY.

read your fucking fic. i don’t care. keep dickriding for aj. i don’t care. neither does he. my birthday was terrible regardless of if you were going to send me this bullshit or not. i got raped last year. that’s all my birthday is to me now. you win. is that what you want to hear? that i hate my life and feel numb to everything?

i’d tell you to go fuck yourself up the ass with a semiautomatic, but i’m not sure if there’ll even be room because your head’s so far up there.

#anon #asks #not sao #personal

[originalferal]

i feel so lonely. i am surrounded by loved ones, those who care about me, those who want nothing but the best for me, still, i feel lonely. how can i explain the pain that has no reason. how do i tell them what i feel when i don't even know what i feel. it's just pain; i cry a lot, without reason, without cause. i walk down the corridor and i cry, i sit in my room and i cry, sometimes tears flow down my cheeks and sometimes it's just a knot in my throat. i smile when they want me to smile, i laugh when they want me to laugh, i try to divert myself by talking to strangers but i never truly smile or laugh or share. i miss it, i had a pretty smile. i feel lonely. sometimes i wish to stand close to a fire, a little too close; very very close. if i somehow hurt myself then maybe i'll think of something other that this, i'll think how to fix that hurt then, right? i am willing to do anything to think something other than what i do right now. if i hurt myself, i'll at least have a reason to cry.

i am not a beautiful disaster like the poets describe, fucking liars! assholes, cocksucking liars! and i am one of them; and like any other poet, i lie a lot. it's people like us who are never happy, and so we cannot see others happy. we write poems on love, on peace, on beauty and we fuck the world. it's our way of being a sadist. because honestly, i see no beauty, i see no light, i just feel. i feel too much, it's unbearable. and when i think of all those in power, i think of all those who face death everyday, i think of all those who lose so much, i am hit by this intense guilt. guilt engulfs me all the time. guilt of not doing enough, not being enough. for being a hollow, broken, sad piece of shit.

my mind is not a good place, there are too many voices that argue, and no matter what i always end up fucked. always. i need to work, i am ambitious, i have dreams, i have goals; i want a happy life, i want a healthy body, i want to meet Johnny Depp for fuck's sake; and i am trying, i promise i am but it's never enough. i desperately want to be happy. but that's the problem you see, if i try too hard, i am desperate, if i don't, well i am not trying enough!

then also, nothing ever happens, i try and try, make some progress but always end up in my head. what else can i do anyway. crushed under guilt and pain and feelings and loneliness. i return to square one and think what if i someday do reach somewhere, achieve something, what will all that matter if i won't be happy. i'll be miserable in a penthouse, i'll be miserable in a mansion. what will all my work matter at the end if it doesn't give me happiness. there is no end to desires anyway. i'll always think if i reach there, i'll be happy, no no, if i reach there, i'll be happy but it won't ever happen because there is no end, this is a fucking circle. i'll never be happy somewhere else if first i am not happy where i am. i want nothing more than to be happy, to be at peace, to make the voices in my head stop. to make the pain stop. i am not hopeful anymore.

[klaviergavinwiki]

also gilbert is just such a lame fucking loser i cannot believe they made a dad who went out for cigarettes and never came back real but he isn’t even like. he’s just so fucking wet and pathetic in a completely derogatory way. and then again he just completely abandoned his actual daughter in favour of dimitri and AGAIN he fucked it up like. if you’re gonna abandon your child for another child at least have the decency to parent the second child correctly. gilbert just sucks. every time he speaks i tell him to shut up out loud in real life because he’s such a soggy piece of wonder bread floating downstream sucking up cholera. loser.

slashes the the stepdad out of that shirt so it just says i'm not the dad who stepped up

also gilbert literally sucks like he did the whole self imposed exile thing after the tragedy bc he was so ashamed at his inability to save the king or whatever which is like whatever okay that sucks but tbh i feel like nobody in the situation at hand would've wanted you to fucking abandon your wife and daughter you stupid cocksucker like why does your fucking AUDACITY allow you to try to reconnect with dimitri who was the sole survivor of the event that led you to drop your whole life and change your name while you still ignore your daughter while she's right fucking there going to the school at the monastery you work at like what now you don't like how the world is and you want to use dimitri to help reclaim the throne so faerghus can regain power? but it's cool to ignore your daughter for 10 years? he is a miserable little opportunist toad and i wish he would suck up some cholera.

also the game is like "oh annette and gilbert can reconcile if you do their supports and he can change his name back to gustave and reconcile with his wife" and the thing is i don't WANT those things i don't want him to have a wife and daughter i want him to die. <3

[irrfahrer]

“Okay, no, I’m not laughing. Not laughing. Are you okay? That must’ve hurt.”

Cheeping miserably like a kicked animal Ziv held her small fingers in her other paw, wincing and hopping around in the small room while cursing loudly as she also suprisingly nimbly avoided throwing over any lamps: "Cocksucking nerfherding- I am in kriffing agony ! Kriffing Banthashit! I am kriffing devasted! But do I get any kriffing sympathy in my kriffing misery?? NO! KRIFFING NO! NEVER!Kriff no, I look kriffing up searching for compassion and all I see -" the Tynnan stopped hopping around and instead accusatory held her two fingers that were bloody from the thin papercuts towards Henry with a dramatic, low snarl that was definitive too dramatic to be real. Even her tail, wagging as if she was a happy puppy, showed that she was not serious: "-is you grinning at me! Shame on you, pup, kriffing shaaaame!" Nimbly the young woman grabbed into her beltbag and fished out a small boundle of bandages that she softly threw after the younger man, neither aiming or really hit him or let alone hurt him considering the woolen bandages inside. Outside the small room rain was fallign heavily against the walls and windows, so Zivs little dramatic acting as mcuh as the mere fact taht she was with Henry in the room was swallowed by the storm effortlessly and hidden behind pitchblack clouds on the sky and the storm jolting on every building, every tree and every ship near the land.

Yet when outside the room it was dark, inside there was the light from the oillamps painting everything in a warm golden shimmer. Yet when outside it was cold, inside it was warm. Yet when outside it smelled of the salt of the sea and the wetness of the rain, inside it smelled of old books as sweet as a parfume. Sucking on her fingers Ziv toddled back to the book laying on the wooden table and leaned forward to have a better look at the inkblack drawing on the open page. SHoulder to shoulder with Henry sitting by the table, Ziv had to go on her tiptoes to have a proper look at the book as if she was a child. In the candlelight the yellowed paper looked almost like gold. "You know, I have seen such a thing.", she tapped a claw against the illustration in the book- it was a savannah with short grass growing in inkblack streaks over the page to surround a short tree whichs branches were thorny ranks that had curled like snakes around a screaming person who tried their best to escape the deathtrap that had closed around them and was about to pull them in its middle to devour them. Two other people were horrified watching the third person beeing eaten by the tree, almost barely noticeable in the wild streaks of the savannah grass. Ziv leaned more forward so she could read the description under the picture written in thin lines that had almost completly vanished: "Depiction of a man being consumed by a Yateveo ("I see you") carnivorous tree found in both Africa and Central America". "Not on this planet, and not as a tree, but I had once- or actually more than kriffing once, those things are like kriffing mosquitos and live kriffing everywhere- ran into a kriffing Tree Fisher. They are-", Ziv tilted her head to the side, ears flicking up and down as she was thinking for a proper example she had found in this world: "-uh, giant cabbage like plants who use small tentacls to hold to tree branches and use long tentacles to grab people from the forest ground and swallow them. Especially they kriffing love eating people who laugh at people cutting their poor, poor paws on flimsi!" With a huff she reached out and pinched the others arm, gently, to make sure she would not cut him with her claws, but still hard enough to annoy him as much as possible.

[ @lighthouseborn ]

#Spencer's article first appeared in the daily edition of the New York World on 26 April 1874 #and henry was born in 1730ish..? #BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THIS HE JUST LIVED AROUND 100 years earlier and wrote his article earlier okay! #spencer lived 100 years earlier for this that is #lighthouseborn

[jegulusofwesper]

my favourite samuel preppy clearwater quotes

“You’re a good boy, Samuel,” she said, and if I was a dog my tail would be wagging so fast it would’ve fallen right off.

Plus, she made these amazing chocolate chip cookies that were so fucking good, I’ve seriously thought about rubbing them all over my nuts.

“Just need you to tell me where the fuck Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum went and anything within reason is yours,” I pushed. “And you’re going to kill them.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes. I’m gonna make ‘em Tweedle-Dead.”

“In the words of the oh-so-wise Taylor Swift,” I leaned across the table. “‘Never ever. Like ever.’”

“You killed him,” she said, slowly. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. I held up my index finger and my thumb, slowly closing the gap between them, peering over at Dre through the tiny slit that remained. “Little bit.” “I don’t think you can kill someone a little bit.” “Oh, well then, a lot a bit. I killed him a lot of bit.”

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve seen like three episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, so I’m practically a licensed doctor. Now, be a good girl and bend over, show Dr. Preppy that ass.”

I shrugged like it was nothing, but I’d rather take a spike to the eye than talk about my childhood

Listen, life isn’t about what happened to you in your past, it’s about where you are now and where you’re going. Onward and upward and all that jazz.

“Nah, I just don’t let what that cocksucker did dictate my life. If I do, then he wins. Besides, him and my mom made my life so fucking miserable that now I appreciate every damn good thing that comes my way, and even some of the bad. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have recognized King as my brother that first day on the playground at school, or taken to Grace when she showed a kid wearing wrinkled pants a bit of kindness.”

#just clearing out my drafts 🧹 #preppy #king #tm frazier #honestly if you haven’t read these books they’re so fucking good #if i could marry a book it would be all the ones that contain preppy

[psychedeliaic]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖆𝖓 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖘

ℜ𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔡

《CONTEXT & TRIGGER WARNING: Donovan Harris is a fandomless OC I've had for many years now. While I have lost a lot of his information to time, such as timelines, I do remember most if not all that is written for him. His writing is set in the early 1990s, and he's got quite the taste for blood. With that being said, anything with his tag will probably be highly NSFW with little wiggle room on the matter. So please do beware of any posts regarding this character of mine. His tag shall have a trigger warning. He's a vent piece of sorts who helped me through a rough time, so please take heed and have a friendly reminder that I am not my muse. FC: The lovely Nick Cave. 》

And so she lies there on ugly pissed soaked sheets that smelt like decades-old cum stains from sinful desires and now that of liquid crimson.

The best kind of liquid was red in hue, and that special scent filled his nostrils, the beast's calming prescription just as the quacks ordered. It was the only way to gag it so it didn't come out to eat innocence. He would never harm purity, so be it against his religion, his poor late mother who had been taken from him as a child by a cocksucker's hand. Though, the man had gotten his revenge of sorts later in life against such things. It still... was something he had thought about.

An impure corpse with legs spread open in the most risqué mannerisms while her head was hanging on by a thin thread of flesh, her eyes bulging from her mangled features as purple painted against it dancing with the red behind him as he sat on the edge of the bed. The tip of his blood-stained thumb was placed on his bottom lip as blue-hues stared forward to the static of the shitty television before him. He had it flipped to some strange soap opera as a cigarette hung at his fingers in silence...In thought.

He hadn't touched her in any other way but to embrace her with death, turn her into that something to feed the worms in the ground for later reference. God he fucking hated to be touched anyway, when they tried it disgusted him. It made his stomach turn. Thankfully, this one didn't let it happen as if her miserable existence wanted such a thing...As if she pleaded for it. May GOD HAVE MERCY ON HER SOUL AND THE REAPER GUIDE HER TO HELL WHERE SHE MOST LIKELY BELONGED.

Craved such a release. The ultimate climax.

It wasn't for pleasure, more so to feed THE MONSTER that grew from witness. There was simply no other way to do so, and well--he had leverage being from the adopted family he was in.

Scene flicked in his mind as he went over the details of what conspired momentarily before he relaxed. The tension breaking.

He had found her like he found most of the others unless someone crossed him or did something they shouldn't have. Working the corners was a petty crime to him, but he thought he was helping as they doped themselves up with track marks tainting their bodies. Lost causes in these times, truly. His mother would have understood that if she had been alive, he was doing justice... Wasn't he? Of course, he was. To be fair...He was much more gentle with feminine auras at least. One to be guided by nurturing unless they were the scum of the Earth.

And so it is as she laid her frail self on the mattress of many sins. Arms up as she muttered out with false seduction to get her fixed. "C'mon baby...Do whatever you want with me." The opioid eyes, the hazy daisies on her breath. While he had known his inflection of the needle that was years ago. A disgusting habit of tar he kicked to remain under the chains of tobacco and the occasional whiskey as many men did.

Well... She did say whatever. He happily agreed as he beat her head in with the telephone by the bedside. He'd probably take that with him before he left. Damon would tell him to do so since it was considered sloppy, but he'd been on a hiatus for a bit, so he just couldn't help himself as her face bruised and oozed sticky rose dew. A favored switchblade to cut flesh at thy neck to end the misery even if she probably didn't even FEEL A FUCKING THING.

He didn't either.

#TW; A whole lotta shit #||Its been awhile my monstrous child #𝓡𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼 #𝓜𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 #𝕯𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖆𝖓 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖘 ; 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝕺𝕮 #||Snap crackle gore #||His stuff gets worse from here...

[oyavaski]

God I wish antis would shut the fuck up and find hobbies that don't revolve around harassing people and sending death threats and KYS asks over fucking CARTOON CHARACTERS

#antis are not welcome on my blog #if i had the opportunity id be methodically pulling out all your teeth with rusty pliers #miserable little cocksuckers

[odetojeons]

hi <<3 i'm really curious to know what do u think are wonwoo's biggest kinks 👀 SORRY it's just because i'm a really major hoe for him and i want ur insight about it hehe

HELLO, DO NOT APOLOGIZE I’M A HOE FOR HIM AS WELL (tbh I think everyone is)

might get a bit too excited with this help (it’s not in most to least order okay)

Power Play — I don’t even know what to say here. I always get this big feeling of Wonwoo being into power play, like he has this dark side of him that he keeps very hidden, and he just wants to dominate someone. He would be so much into it, Wonwoo would like to order you around when you’re having your private time together, tell you what to do and control your actions on the bedroom, the pleasure he feels running through his body when you obey him makes him think he could cum untouched.

Spitting Kink — BYE I THINK THIS ONE IS ONE OF HIS BIGGEST KINKS. Wonwoo is possessive, he likes to own and to claim, and this is only another way of marking you up as his. He would grab your jaw and pry your lips open so he could spit into your mouth, telling you to be good and swallow for him. But Wonwoo would also spit into your hole right before he laps at it and sucks, just to see you squirming on the bed with need.

Choking — Holy fuck yes. You cannot think that a man with such beautiful hands isn’t into choking. Just putting his hand around your neck would affect his entire demeanor, everything about having such a great power over you and you trusting him to do it has him going crazy. Wonwoo would squeeze your throat when you keep trying to rile him up or even when he’s fucking into you, just has a natural attraction to your neck.

Spanking — Hmmm, Wonwoo and spanking. I don’t need to say anything else because I think everyone agrees with this. He is SO MUCH into spanking like what the fuck. Maybe not do it on a daily basis or even to punish you, but more of a playful part of the sex when you’re being too adorable and he just wants to see the print of his hands on your ass.

Breeding Kink — Bye. No need for explanation. Just Wonwoo wanting to mark your insides as well, paint your walls with his cum until you don’t know anyone else’s name but his.

Cock Warming — Hello?????? This is one of his biggest kink, don’t even try to argue with me. I bet he would love to have you on his lap, cock fitting snuggly inside your walls as he plays his games. The pleasure Wonwoo would feel as he watches you fall apart, trying to be good and stay still for him, but ends up riding him because you’re too desperate with the feeling of his cock is indescribable. And the pleased smirk Wonwoo would give you after, like he was waiting exactly for this to happen, just so he could punish you later on.

Rigger — Speaking of punishment, Wonwoo would surely like to tie you up. When you’ve been bad or when he just feels like it, he would bind your wrists for him and even your legs sometimes so you’re only able to take what he wants you to take. Again, this all comes with the major power play kink he has.

Orgasm Control — OH YES. Like both. Both overstimulation and edging. Wonwoo wants to see you cry for him, no matter which one he chooses to do it. Wants to see you break in, lie limp on the bed and beg him with tears in your eyes. This filthy motherfucker.

Consent Kink — Yup. There’s just something about you telling you trust him that drives Wonwoo fucking insane. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that someone as pretty and amazing as you trusts him enough to dom you, and this equally makes him happy as it makes him so damn turned on.

Brat Tamer — As much a I think Wonwoo is a soft dom, I also think he’s a brat tamer. He might not admit it, but he loves when you put up a fight, tease and rile him up until he snaps, grabs the back of your head, pushes it down on the pillow and fucks you so hard you think the bed my break. Wonwoo would love to put you in your place when you misbehave.

Degrader — Y’all probably saw this in all of my smuts with him BUT LISTEN,, to be fair, I think Wonwoo is a very soft degrader. He would sometimes caress your cheek tenderly as if he’s not brutally fucking into you, just so he could hold your cheeks tightly between his fingers and tell you how you’re the prettiest little slut, how he’s so lucky to have such a stunning cocksucker and how you look absolutely beautiful crying like a pathetic slut for him. I just, ugh. Jeon Wonwoo.

Bruising Sex — It also comes with Wonwoo being possessive. He wants to see his marks on you after sex, his handprint on your ass, hickeys on your neck, bites on your inner thighs, tears on your cheeks, his cum on your face (or in any part of your body, really). But he also wants to feel like he belongs to you, so Wonwoo would love when you leave scratches all over his back or bites on his shoulder when you’re coming.

I hope you have liked it!! Tried not to simp too much but I know I failed miserably.

#wonwoo smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt smut #svt imagines #wonwoo imagine #actually i love everything that involves wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo smut #ask

[protect-daniel-james]

Eddie Scarpa (head)canons

he doesn’t actually speak Italian apart from a few words (he actually mentions that when he’s drunk and singing Return to me: “Oh shit, I don’t know the fucking Italian words- ! Oh fuck, where is my mother when I need her, huh!”)

he still tries to sing Dean Martin’s Italian songs

he’s actually a romantic soul (look, he sings “Return to Me” and “Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight” - I mean, he changes the words a little bit, but he knows the lyrics)

he wishes he was as cool as Dean Martin

he always sings in his car when his favorite song comes up, and although he’s in awe of the crooners/Martin/Sinatra etc., he kinda enjoys Empire Central Radio as well; sometimes he’s just bopping to the rock’n’roll sound (he doesn’t know the words, but he’s just tapping his fingers on the steering wheel). Falcone hates it, however, so Eddie always plays Delta Radio when they’re in the car together

he also enjoys Rockin’ Ricky Fox’s personality, although he has little understanding for some of the lingo and behavior of the youngsters (he hates the Greasers, after all) - he often speaks to the radio when Ricky is on, doing some news reporting - Eddie is like “Aaah, get the fuck outta here!” but at the same time, he enjoys listening to him (do I sense a ship potential? because yes)

he’s a little bit jealous of the people he knows who were actually born in Italy, since he believes that gives them advantage over him in the respect they get (like they are proper Italians/Sicilians and he’s not). Also, he wanted to learn the language, but gave up quickly, and he’s secretly kinda jealous of people who “automatically” speak the language (and he hates it when someone speaks fluent Italian in his presence because he feels stupid compared to them)

he left school very early but is quite naturally smart; he still hates when people correct him or insult his intelligence (e. g. “You mean astronomy?”)

he prides himself in keeping his promises and hates when people accuse him of breaking them (how many times he mentioned “I always keep my word” in the game?)

he would NEVER EVER betray the family, and he doesn’t wish to replace Falcone at all; he just doesn’t have that kind of ambitions

he might be taking some “pills” to get himself going because sometimes, the booze is not enough

! TW: sexual assault ! now to the serious stuff. he spent 4 years in prison, and lets say he didn’t enjoy his time there at all. imho, he was assaulted, and he’s still dealing with a lot of guilt and self-hatred over that (after all, he used to be a lightweight boxer, so he feels like he should have been able to defend himself) + afterwards, he started doing...favors...in return for alcohol and cigarettes

he lives in constant fear that Falcone will somehow find out about this (maybe Rocco knew and that’s why he was so nasty to him and Eddie didn’t complain?)

when someone calls him a cocksucker, it strikes a nerve (remember the girl in the brothel?) + when Joe makes jokes about Vito being in the prison showers he either laughs hysterically (when he’s drunk) to hide his emotions, or gets annoyed (like in ch. 9, when Vito mentions Leo and the prison and Joe is like “When old Leo dropped the soap?”)

he still kinda hates Falcone for leaving him in prison for 4 years, but is loyal until the end - because he already lost everything and doesn’t have anyone/anything else (ehm ehm apart from Henry ehm ehm)

although he has little respect for women, he takes care of the brothel girls (like in Joe’s Adventures, when he sent Joe to beat up a guy who hurt one of the girls)

he actually doesn’t like seeing blood

he’s probably gay but has a hard time admitting that (especially because of the time in prison - but also naturally because of the business he’s in)

he dreams of running a casino in Las Vegas (and having Dean Martin’s shows there every day, probably) and that’s what gives him strenght to go on with his miserable life in Empire Bay

#mafia #mafia 2 #eddie scarpa #and yes these ideas will be used in the Friend of Ours fic #not football lol

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Rorveth, Isendain, AND Thronebreaker Snippets + Some Headcanons

I couldn’t decide what to do for WiP Wednesday, so uh... have lots of stuff! We’ve got an Iorveth/Roche snippet, an Isengrim/Eldain snippet, a Throne3 (Meve/Reynard/Gascon) snippet AND a little bit about some Thronebreaker headcanons me and @moonlights-ordinance​ came up with today.

Iorveth/Roche:

This is the beginning of an angsty fic wherein Iorveth pines and finds out some unpleasant news. The actual plot of the fic is Iorveth trying to get rid of his feelings, but we’re not there yet.

Iorveth really should’ve known that this day was destined to be hellish the moment that he was jolted from his paperwork daze by the rambunctious shouts of his Scoia’tael outside his office. He sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face, then checking that his bandana covered his scar properly. Only after that did he open the door to see what was sowing chaos amidst his ranks.

No one… actually seemed to notice his presence, which to be frank, was not a problem Iorveth typically struggled with. He was quite good at appearing intimidating and infuriated even when he wasn’t particularly trying. 

But it seemed his elves – and a few of the dwarves – were far too involved in their own gossip to notice him as he walked through the crowd.

“Have you heard–?”

“No way.”

“Guess he loved Temeria so much he married it!” someone chortled.

“Ha! From Cocksucker in Chief to Consort. He must be real good.”

A bout of cackling followed that last remark, and Iorveth had his first premonition that the day was going to suck. But he still didn’t have answers, so he walked straight forward into what would become his own personal hell.

In the center of the crowd, surrounded by countless elves and dwarves, Iorveth was not at all surprised to find his two favorite subordinates – who were rapidly losing that classification. He stepped up next to them, crossing his arms and waiting for them to notice the trouble they were in.

Really, he should have known it would be these two. Rinn, for all that she was nominally well-behaved and quiet, was extremely mischievous, especially when it had the potential to cause minor problems for Iorveth. He would not be surprised if she had planned this. Her companion, Ky, may have been more innocent in that she may not have intended to draw a crowd – but she was absolutely the one spreading the gossip far and wide.

It took a while, but slowly, the chattering grew quieter and quieter as more people took notice of his presence. Finally, Rinn caught sight of him and poked Ky, who was still loudly expounding on something about marriage.

“Something you need to tell me?” Iorveth asked, eyebrow arched high and disapproving scowl firmly in place.

Ky winced, but Rinn looked entirely unrepentant as she signed, the Temerian King made an official announcement today that I caught during my shift.

Iorveth looked at the way more than a few people were biting their lips and avoiding his eye and hummed. “And?”

“Roche is getting married!” Ky burst out as if she physically could not hold it back anymore and Iorveth felt everything freeze.

Married? Vernon Roche!? The erstwhile commander of the Blue Stripes and proud pain in Iorveth’s ass? Who the fuck would he be marrying and why would it be a royal announcement!?

Even though Iorveth himself still felt like he was encased in ice, time seemed to resume for everyone else and chattering rapidly commenced, elves whispering back and forth between themselves and each other.

What was it someone had said earlier? ‘From Cocksucker in Chief to Consort’?

Was… was Vernon marrying King Foltest!?

Rinn must have seen the question on his face, because she nodded and passed over a paper missive.

It felt like moving through molasses to extend his arm and accept the notice that would forever change his life.

The Ancient Royal Line of the Temerian Dynasty Announces the Wedding of

Foltest, King of Temeria, Prince of Sodden, Sovereign of Pontaria and Mahakam, and Senior Protectorate of Brugge and Sodden

and

Vernon Roche, Commander of the Elite Blue Stripes Special Forces Unit, Pacifier of the Mahakaman Foothills, and Right Hand to the King

to take place at the year’s end on the Winter Solstice

Iorveth stared at the announcement, static fizzing through his brain. Vernon. And Foltest. They were getting married!? 

His eye shot up to meet Rinn’s almost imploringly, hoping this was all some big joke. But there was no mischief in her eyes, and her forehead creased with worry as she watched him, clearly wondering what was wrong.

She, at least, appeared to be the only one who had noticed anything amiss in his reaction. The rest of his Scoia’tael were back to loudly gossiping about their enemy’s new status in life.

“Wait, I thought human men couldn’t get pregnant. Isn’t the whole point of a royal marriage to produce an heir?”

“Nah, I’ve heard the whore has a cunt,” someone laughed. “Can you imagine only having one? Sounds lame as fuck. But yeah, supposedly our dearest Commander Roche can make royal babies for King Fuckface.”

Iorveth’s heartbeat stuttered and he inhaled sharply through his nose. He… hadn’t known that. Sure, he’d heard rumors, but the rumors about Vernon were wild and extreme and ranged from his background as a whore to his imaginary sideline in child abduction to his preference for blunt force weapons.

Was this one… true? As he looked back at Rinn for the answer – aside from being the primary spy assigned to Vernon, she also seemed to just inexplicably know things – he could hear the conversation around him moving on.

“Hey, do you think that’s why they’re getting married? Maybe the idiot king knocked up his whore and now he’s gotta marry him!”

“I dunno, did Roche look pregnant at our last fight?”

Rinn nodded the slightest bit and Iorveth brain returned to static. Vernon. Pregnant. That – he hadn’t been aware that that was something he was emotionally invested in, but the storm of feelings racing through his veins proved that he was. He wanted – he wanted to see that, wanted to cause that, wanted to discover what Vernon’s cunt would be like and feel it stretched around him and–

He’d – he’d always assumed that Vernon had a cock, even though he wasn’t quite sure what a human cock looked like. But whenever he’d picture a different future – one where he could choose his own happiness over his cause – it hadn’t mattered that he didn’t know what a human cock looked like. His imagination was more than delighted to fill in whatever he wished, and coming up with different ideas was all that got him through the night at times. 

The idea of Vernon with a cunt was startling. It had never occurred to him before, and now he wondered how he could’ve possibly been so shortsighted. The things that he could do with Vernon’s cunt were limitless and Iorveth’s mind got stuck on that for probably far too long.

He was brought out of his daze by Rinn choking, wide eyes locked on his face. With sudden dread, he understood what she must have seen. What she must have realized.

Iorveth swallowed hard, jerking his head, “give me a proper report.” He turned to head back to his office without looking at her and he wasn’t sure if he was hoping she’d follow or that she wouldn’t.

(the rest under a cut to save your dash)

Isengrim/Eldain:

This is a fluffy bit from a get together fic set post-Reasons of State and we start with Isengrim mourning Dijkstra and Dijkstra’s betrayal.

There was a knock on his door and then Eldain’s voice spoke. “Isengrim? Um. I know you aren’t feeling great, but would you come with me for a bit?’

All of a sudden, then blankness fled under a wave of confusion and curiosity. “What?”

“I – um. I have something for you. But you gotta come with me for a bit. And if you don’t like it, I promise I will not get in the way of your grief, even if that means hiding out in here.” 

Eldain sounded nervous, of all things. Isengrim hadn’t actually known Eldain was capable of feeling nervous.

Why was he nervous?

Isengrim frowned at the door. He wasn’t exactly going to get an answer lying here. And maybe Eldain could keep him from thinking about Sigi and all the pain associated with him for a bit.

It was worth a shot. Besides, he’d come to rather like the other ex-commander quite a bit over the course of working together. Not that they hadn’t worked together before, but there had always been a formality dividing them. Eldain looked up to him, he knew that. Not that Eldain would ever say it, but it was the way Eldain looked at him. A soft regard that one could almost mistake for love, but was truly nothing more than hero worship. He’d seen the same look on the faces of all the young Scoia’tael, but from Eldain, it felt like the thorn of a rose – he hated it, knowing that Eldain would never feel the same, that he was destined to die alone and miserable and a beautiful young musician like Eldain could never be his. But at the same time, he coveted it, coveted Eldain’s regard, because even if it wasn’t what he wanted, it was something. 

He would give anything to have Eldain in his life in any form.

Swallowing hard, Isengrim rubbed his face, then opened the door. 

Eldain was on the other side of the door and his shoulders were slumped in defeat that quickly turned to confusion, one shoulder cocking upwards. 

“What?” Isengrim asked.

“I – no, I just. Thought you’d say no,” Eldain said awkwardly. 

“Does that mean you do want me to go with you somewhere or not?”

“Yeah!” Eldain shook himself, smiling at Isengrim, and it felt as though the sun had emerged from cloud cover, because instead of the nothingness-pain from before, now he felt – too much, really. And some of it hurt, but more of it was pleased to just bask in the rays of Eldain’s smile.

He was only half aware of following Eldain through the house, still a little dazed from the blinding light. But when Eldain came to a stop in front of a closed door, the world seemed to snap back into focus, and he looked to Eldain expectantly.

Eldain fidgeted, feet shuffling. “Um. Like – like I said, if you don’t like it, I won’t force you to stay, but um–” his adam’s apple bobbed and then Eldain opened the door and motioned for Isengrim to enter.

Isengrim took two steps through the doorway and froze. All around him, the room was lit up with dozens of little lights – some up high, some down low, others around his hips. Those ones on the floor guided him towards what looked like a raggedy old blanket draped over the wooden flooring.

“It’s not exactly a starlit picnic,” Eldain shrugged, setting down a basket he hadn’t even noticed Eldain was carrying, “but since we’re laying low, I figured this was as close as we could get.”

“I–” Isengrim was breathless, uncertain of what to say. Awe spread through him as he looked over the dozens of lights, each coming from candles in small lanterns that were hanging from the ceiling all over. He couldn’t think of any words to portray what this meant to him, what it meant that Eldain would go to all this trouble for him. So he was as surprised as Eldain when his mouth said, “isn’t this a fire hazard?”

Eldain rocked back as if he’d been hit, smile abruptly falling from his face.

“No,” Isengrim tried to recover, cursing himself. “I – this is amazing. Is. What I mean. Um. Am trying to say. I – you did this for me!?” If there was disbelief coloring his tone, it was only because he could hardly comprehend the idea of anyone going to so much trouble just to cheer him up.

Eldain’s jaw was clenched, and his expression was a neutral mask that Isengrim hated having put there. Why did he always hurt the people he cared for? Was he truly so tainted that anyone he touched was at risk of infection? Was simply being around him enough to ruin what could be an incredible life for a beautiful young musician like Eldain?

“You don’t have to stay,” Eldain murmured, and Isengrim felt like crying, uncertain whether he wanted to leave and spare Eldain the risk of contamination or if he wanted to stay and bask in this incredible gift that Eldain was giving him.

––

Never before had Eldain wished that Isengrim would leave his presence immediately. But if he stayed much longer, then it was entirely too likely that he would witness Eldain falling apart.

Eldain had always known his silly little crush would never go anywhere . He was even almost fine with that. But he’d thought – he’d thought that Isengrim at least considered him a friend. And yes, this whole production was a little over the top for friendship, but hey, Eldain was an over the top kind of guy.

There was always the possibility Isengrim would hate it. And he’d worried about that and fretted over it, but he hadn’t really expected it to happen. Even if Isengrim was uncomfortable, Eldain would’ve guessed that he’d be polite enough to grin and bear it. Which was far from ideal, but right now, Eldain really wished that he’d done that, because instead it felt like he’d reached into Eldain’s chest and ripped his still-beating heart out, leaving him bleeding and doomed.

“Thank you,” Isengrim said, and Eldain startled. Of all the words he’d expected, those were not even on his radar. 

“What?”

“Thank you. I – you clearly went to a lot of trouble to give me something beautiful. Thank you.” Isengrim said the words easily, and Eldain was confused. That… didn’t sound like Isengrim hated it. “So, what are we eating?”

Eldain’s smile grew slowly, but as Isengrim continued to look expectantly at him, he found that he couldn’t hold it back. He waved Isengrim towards the blanket – one probably as old as the house was, but all the good blankets were in use. “Bread and cheese. Fruit. Some veggies,” he narrated as he pulled the items out of the basket. “Wasn’t sure how much appetite you’d have, so I wanted to keep it light, but if you’re hungry, there’s still some venison in the storeroom.”

Isengrim looked at the objects laid out around them. “I – I don’t know what to say except thank you,” Isengrim said, a smile growing on his face that made Eldain’s heart beat fast. “This is very thoughtful and sweet.”

Eldain flushed, reaching into the basket to pull out the last item. “And, of course, some wine. It’s not exactly high quality, but we’re slumming it tonight anyway.”

The huff of laughter Isengrim let out made it feel like there were wings on his heart, letting it slowly rise. He’d made Isengrim happy. If that was all he ever did in life, he could be content with that.

Throne3 (Meve/Reynard/Gascon):

The porn tags for these 3 are sadly lacking, so... have some porn XD The premise here is that they’ve just escaped the Lyrian capital through the sewers and now they’re all washing off in the first river they came across.

They all knew what the venerable Count Reynard Odo was getting up to with Queen Meve upriver. But while the deserters from the Lyrian army and the Strays seemed content with gossiping about it, Gascon felt compelled to seek out more.

Sneaking past the guards ensuring their queen’s privacy with her boytoy even now was honestly pathetically easy. But then, they were probably used to looking the other way for their queen.

Gascon didn’t really know what he was planning, but he knew that he needed to see Meve in the throes of pleasure. The fierce and enchanting queen was currently being ‘serviced’ by her top aide and everybody knew it.

How could he possibly be expected to resist?

But instead of satisfying him, the view before him only made him crave more, because Meve and Reynard were standing about shin-deep in the water with him wrapped around her, hands stroking over her body as her head rested back against his shoulder.

But moreso than the picture they made, what truly drove Gascon over the edge was hearing Reynard tease his queen.

“So eager, your majesty,” Reynard murmured softly. “Could it be that the company of the ever so honorable Duke of Dogs,” his voice was heavily sarcastic, “has gotten you excited? Are you curious what that infuriatingly charming mouth would feel like against your skin?”

Meve arched as Reynard’s fingers skirted just short of touching her clit. “Reynard,” she growled.

Gascon wasn’t certain when his fingers had slipped inside his trousers, but the touch against his cock had him shuddering, already overwhelmed at the very idea that Meve could be fantasizing about him.

“Have you thought about pushing the arrogant bastard to his knees and showing him his place?” Reynard continued and Gascon bit his lip hard against a moan. “Have you pictured him, lips stretched around your widest strap, eyes tearing up from the effort of it?”

Meve whined softly, reaching up to tug Reynard into a kiss.

Gascon had never seen a filthier kiss in his life, and he stroked himself faster, picturing what he would do if he could join them. She may not have a strap handy to gag him on, but he was sure they could come to a compromise.

“Do you imagine him kneeling before you, begging for you?” Reynard rumbled and Gascon almost missed Meve’s sound over his own. Which meant that Reynard knew he was there when the Count continued, “I’ve no doubt the crass mutt is a marvel with his mouth.

Later, Gascon would claim that he spoke before he could even think about it, proclaiming, “I am.”

In reality, he spent a long moment contemplating how to respond. Getting caught spying on sex typically ended one of two ways: either you got invited to join in or you got beaten to a pulp.

He was fairly hopeful that the first option was more likely than the latter, but he wasn’t sure, and in the seconds of silence that followed his words, his heart pounded in his chest and pulse raced and he felt on the edge of either agony or elation.

“In that case,” Meve’s voice broke the quiet with all the firmness of having made a decision, “come pay homage to your queen, Gascon.”

Even though he’d hoped this was how things would go, he still felt utterly amazed that she had actually said yes. 

He stepped through the buses, trying not to look like he’d been caught with his hand down his pants. “Your Majesty,” he bowed his head with a playful smirk and then sent her a wink just to top it off.

Meve looked every bit the dignified queen as she held out a hand that should have held her signet ring. They had taken that from her when she’d been captured, but Gascon found himself licking his lips, taking her hand and kissing her ring finger as if he were a knight pledging her fealty.

Her gaze was hot on him as he slowly kissed up her arm, and unlike the two of them, he still wore his armor – which meant that he could pretend no one saw the way that his cock twitched when Reynard reached out and knocked his hat off, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling his face down into Meve’s chest.

Obediently, he applied himself to worshipping Meve’s tits, taking Reynard’s lead and only giving her glancing brushes across her nipples, denying her touch.

Meve growled in frustration, grabbing his hips and pulling him into her until the bulge of his cock rubbed over her pelvis. Her cunt greeted the contact with a gush of slick, staining Gascon’s pants and making him pant with arousal. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, grinding into her. She arched with a cry, fingers digging into his ass and Gascon desperately wished that there wasn’t a layer of fabric between his cock and that glorious cunt. But how could he pull away to fix that when his time could be better spent licking and sucking and biting at Meve’s glorious tits? Gods, they were beautiful, plump and sensitive, to the point that nipping at one nipple while squeezing her other tit was enough to make Meve’s body jerk, bucking into his hips as she utterly drenched his pants.

“Fuck,” he whimpered again, then dropped to his knees and buried his face in her cunt.

Thronebreaker Headcanons:

Okay, so as I’ve been getting to know Meve, Reynard, and Gascon and have started writing different plots with them, I’ve decided a few things. There’s going to be 1 universe of fics that falls under the “homophobia exists” universe that I talked about here. However, I know that’s not everyone’s boat and like, sometimes I just wanna write context-less porn, so definitely not all fics will! But I have several ideas already in that ‘verse, especially looking at the chronic pain Reynard has as a result of things.

So, specific to that ‘verse, one headcanon is that Reynard was whipped specifically for being queer and almost died from it. The wounds healed, but not... well, not the greatest. There wasn’t a lotta care taken with it. Which means that his back pains him A LOT and there’s a lotta things that he has to do different. For example, I’ve decided he sits in chairs like Riker does, keeping his back straight so that he doesn’t stretch the scar tissue. His range of motion is also limited in a lot of ways, but he’s found ways to compensate and hide it over the years. (just as an FYI, Riker sits like that, ‘cause Frakes had a back injury and doing that was less painful)

Okay, now WITHOUT the homophobia that led to chronic pain - I’ve decided that each of the Throne3 need to have a niche hobby that occupies them in their limited spare time (developed with much help from @moonlights-ordinance​). Sooooo:

Meve:

Meve likes sewing. She doesn’t like people to know she likes sewing, because it’s closer to a traditionally ‘feminine’ than she usually aims for, but she actually really enjoys it. 

On their journey, this comes out when Gascon’s shirt gets ripped and when he complains about it a lot, she just grabs it and mends it. This leads to her spending the evenings mending all the different clothing from the soldiers and the Strays.

I think she learned sewing from her father and he taught it to her in an attempt to get her to just sit still for five fucking minutes!! 

Not directly related to sewing, but because her mother was busy being queen, she was largely raised by her father, who was an Ofieri Marquis (like, 2nd level nobility, under a duke) whose family paid a substantial sum in order to win the match. He was not popular at court and therefore found himself largely shunned by the peerage, but it left him with basically all of his time to devote to his children. (Does... does Meve have sisters?? Queen Kalis supposedly bore several girls???)

Reynard:

Reynard likes to crochet. Specifically, he likes to crochet little plushies. He’s not too picky about what he makes, and whoever is in range when he finishes it will likely end up gifted with an unexpected plushie.

At one point, he finished making a stingray, only for a passing soldier to dub it a Sting-Rey. Thus, Lieutenant Sting Rey was born. The troops listen to Lt. Sting Rey better than they listen to General Odo lmao.

He has a habit of crocheting in the evenings in the mess (maybe with Meve mending nearby) and random soldiers (and Strays) like to sit around his feet so that when he finishes a lil plush, they might get it. And when he starts a new one, he might take requests.

I could say so much more about the plushies he makes for Gascon and Meve, but I guess I’ll save that for a fic. But I gotta share these pics, ‘cause they’re so fucking cute. So: a donkey for Gascon (’cause he’s an ass) and a Lyrian eagle for Meve (’cause it’s Lyrian lol).

Gascon:

Gascon likes dancing! Specifically, he was trained in ballet from a young age (like literally a year old is when you start, apparently) and was trained as a ballerina (meaning he will be lifted/led instead of doing the lifts/leading). By the time he ended up on the streets at 12 (8 in canon, but my guy needs to at least be 20), he was pretty damn good at it - and so he ended up teaching the Strays

The Strays have a ballet troupe that puts on performances for the gang on occasion as like, a bonus to music night or something. Semi-spontaneous and very fun.

Gascon is SCARY flexible (like, to the point that Reynard is a little horrified that the human body can do that) from dance and he definitely uses that to his advantage.

He 100% gets everyone to dress up all fancy and put on makeup and do their hair and shit. After all, they steal all this fancy shit from the nobles - why SHOULDN’T they enjoy it?

And there you have it! Sorry for the super long post, but also... enjoy?

#rorveth #isendain #throne3 #iorveth x roche #isengrim x eldain #meve x reynard x gascon #thronebreaker #the witcher #wip wednesday #fic planning

[some-stars]

a very smart person in the discord, when i asked for ideas, was like “what if jaskier met lambert at posada instead of geralt” and i started a new WIP for this AU so here, have what i have of it so far. this is NOT a fic, please don’t reblog it like it was a fic, it’s literally just a fragment bc that’s all i have the energy for tonight. but i think it’s pretty cool

--

Lambert woke up on the floor of the west hall in front of the guttering fire, head pounding the way it never did unless he’d been up to some seriously intense drinking. When his eyes focused--bringing a fresh stab of pain right between his eyebrows--he saw an empty bottle of white gull on its side on the stones next to him. Well, that explained that.

“Oh, look, he’s awake,” Eskel said--much more loudly than he needed to--from somewhere nearby. Lambert grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Fuck off,” he muttered, without much force. This was fine; he’d been hungover before, though not this badly since he was a trainee sneaking into the kegs in the cellar. He’d be fine, eventually.

Unfortunately Eskel didn’t seem to feel like giving him time. Lambert felt his brother’s hands under his arms, hauling him up, and groaned pitifully as he swallowed hard against his surging gut. “Come on,” Eskel grumbled, “get up, you look pathetic down there.”

He squirmed ineffectually in Eskel’s grip. “Fuck off.”

“Drink this,” Geralt said, appearing out of nowhere. Usually no one could sneak up on Lambert, not even other witchers. But then, he wasn’t at his best. He narrowed his eyes and glared but took the vial Geralt offered him and forced the contents down.

Almost immediately he felt, if not quite better, at least more like he could stand up on his own. He jerked away from Eskel, and when he didn’t immediately fall back down, he felt the other two back up a little, giving him space.

“Thanks,” Lambert muttered grudgingly to Geralt, slipping the vial into a pocket to clean and reuse later.

“Now you can tell us what the fuck is going on,” Eskel said. “You never drink like that.”

It was true; for all that Lambert enjoyed a good buzz, drinking hard enough to black out--for he certainly had no memory of getting this way--left him feeling nasty afterward, vaguely unclean, head circling with bad memories. He’d learned that a long time ago.

Still. “What do you care?” he snapped. Gods, he was thirsty; the potion helped with the alcohol poisoning but didn’t do much for the side effects.

“Don’t want the first witcher to drink himself to death to be a Wolf,” Geralt said. “Wouldn’t reflect well on us.”

Lambert snorted, blackly amused. There was hardly an “us” to reflect on anymore, well or ill. It didn’t matter to anyone what he did or didn’t do, and hadn’t that been something like what he was thinking last night? Not about the Wolf school, but--

He groaned and stumbled over to a bench at the table as a few memories trickled back. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Were you two…”

“Here while you pounded back a bottle of straight gull?” Eskel asked. “Yeah, we were.”

“Fuck,” Lambert said again, and buried his face in his arms. He hadn’t meant to get so drunk, when he’d started. It had been the three of them, trading swigs of regular vodka, and then Lambert had gone and fetched the white gull, and…

Oh, hell. He’d started talking.

“So this Jaskier,” Geralt said, and he sounded almost pleased. “This is that bard you’ve been hanging around with? The one who wrote the song?”

“None of your business,” Lambert said, except he was still face down on the table, so no one paid him any attention.

“You talked about him a lot,” Eskel said. “Not that it was all intelligible, after a while. But we got a few things.”

“Soft hair,” Geralt said as Lambert warily raised his head, glaring fiercely. “Thinks he’s really clever and he actually is, which is infuriating.” He ticked each point off on his fingers.

“Spectacular cocksucker,” Eskel added, and Geralt nodded, ticking off a third finger.

“I hate you both,” Lambert growled. “I fucking hate you both so much.”

Eskel, the bastard, only chuckled. Geralt sat down across the table and looked at Lambert seriously, which was worse. “It seemed like you really miss him,” he said, and to his credit he at least seemed horrifically uncomfortable.

“Why the fuck,” Lambert said, “are you talking to me about my feelings.”

“I’m not,” Eskel said. “I’m just laughing at you. Geralt’s the one with the romantic notions.”

“Fuck off,” Geralt said easily, not even looking at Eskel. “Look, you’ve just been--you seemed, I don’t know, better. The last few years.”

“Better?” Lambert repeated. “Better than what? Dogshit?”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “Less goddamned miserable all the time. It’s true, isn’t it?”

Lambert had to think about it. He wasn’t in the habit of monitoring his own mood--what could possibly matter less? But he had to admit, in the years since he’d first started traveling with Jaskier, the winters had been...more bearable. Less like being imprisoned, more like something he’d started to look forward to--a respite, a chance to play around in the alchemy labs, brew something new in the distillery, enjoy some peace. He’d always hated peace, before, hated being left alone with himself at leisure to think.

This winter he hadn’t made it one full week past the first snowing-in before getting blackout drunk because he couldn’t stand to be sober and alone in his own head anymore, though. So what the fuck was different?

And why the fuck had he been talking about Jaskier, of all people, to Eskel and Geralt while drunk?

One thing, at least, was for sure. “I don’t miss him,” he said, spitting the word out. “We’re not fucking married.”

“But he does suck your cock,” Eskel said.

Lambert snorted. “He sucks everyone’s cock. Or whatever they’ve got, he’s just, you know, a big slut. Likes a good time. Sometimes I oblige.” And if he liked obliging Jaskier’s promiscuity, well, what of it? The man was attractive, and good-natured, and not a painful drag to be around like most people were. If some nights he preferred to bed down with Lambert rather than take his chances with a crowded inn, or share a bedroll when they were between towns--it wasn’t the kind of thing that made you miss someone. Missing people was for humans, not witchers.

And just like that, he remembered what had set him off drinking in the first place. He’d been wondering if Jaskier missed him, because he’d seemed strangely subdued when they’d parted in the fall for no apparent reason, and he’d concluded that of course Jaskier didn’t. He’d be in Oxenfurt now for the winter and spring, happily ensconced among his own kind, the friends he rambled on about all the time to Lambert as they rode from town to town. He’d be teaching classes, or writing poetry or music, or playing to some adoring crowd in a high-class bar full of rich students. And somehow, instead of cheering Lambert up like thinking of Jaskier’s antics usually did, the thought of Jaskier spending the winter satisfied and happy and in good company had settled in Lambert’s stomach like a writhing knot of snakes, until he’d taken to the gull to quiet it down.

#the witcher #idk if this is going to become anything #bc i feel like to do it justice it would have to be....pretty long #but it does start with lambert listening to jaskier's shitty song #and actively shouting 'hey! bard! idiot! over here!' and critiquing everything about him and his song really nastily #without being solicited #jaskier of course just zeroes in on 'omg it's a witcher' #and since he really OBVIOUSLY is going to put out lambert is like 'hey you wanna follow me it's your funeral. let's go fuck' #and then it just goes from there #notfic

[jaskiersvalley]

Wolf, Werewolf, Swearwolf

Over the years winters at Kaer Morhen had become quite the social event. What had been sullen, quiet seasons of four miserable and tired witchers had blossomed into something so much more. It had started with Jaskier. Then Geralt had brought Ciri along and Yennefer had a knack for dropping by. There was a lot of ribbing and jesting how the most standoffish lone wolf was single-handedly responsible for bringing a veritable party to the old keep. The year he brought Cahir along too, some of the teasing fell away, mostly because Eskel and Lambert were too busy competing for his affections. That spring, Cahir set out to join Eskel on the path but they both kissed Lambert goodbye with the promise of meeting up with him throughout the year.

One thing was standard for the winter though, the ever present swear jar. It had gotten rather large over the years yet it always seemed to fill up.

“Morning cocksuckers,” Lambert would announce as he arrived for breakfast, heading for the jar before the food to drop off the fine. He claimed it was absolutely worth it. Poor Vesemir wondered where he had gone so wrong with Lambert, his mouth only seemed to get fouler as the years went on. It had become a bit of a running joke between Eskel and Vesemir that Lambert funded most of Kaer Morhen’s necessities for the year with his swearing.

As far as Aiden was concerned, Lambert had some very strange habits. He refused to buy a horse, spent his coin so frugally that it was almost to his detriment. And spare money was squirrelled away dutifully and never seen again. It was a bit frustrating whenever they met up because Aiden liked to treat himself and had grown to want to give Lambert nice things too. More often than not, he ended up paying for a room at an inn, nicer meals than the bare minimum just because it didn’t feel right to miss out. It also, selfishly, meant that Aiden could watch Lambert sigh in happiness when he got a rare treat.

“What you doing for winter?” Aiden had asked and Lambert rolled his eyes. They were meant to be hunting a griffin but there was no sign of it.

“Oh sheesh, I don’t know. Maybe returning to that musty old keep.”

There was a screech in the distance and Lambert looked up as the griffin was dive bombing them.

“Oh fudge.”

It was much later that Lambert realised just what Aiden had been trying to ask.

“You know, if you want to, you could come home with me.” He had a suspicion that Eskel and Cahir would love Aiden too.

“I’d be delighted,” Aiden replied with a grin. “You’re a numpty if you thought I would ever refuse.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a nincompoop.” Lambert stuck his tongue out at Aiden.

That was how the two ended up climbing the mountain, Lambert sometimes snarling a “stupid branch” or “dumb piece of trash”. It was all rather familiar and Aiden was quietly charmed by Lambert all over again. That all changed as soon as they walked through the keep.

“What’s up bitches? Guess who’s back!”

“Lambert,” Vesemir greeted. “And friend.”

Strolling through, Lambert was instinctively reaching for his coin pouch. “”Aiden, the old fart is Vesemir. Snowman and Sunshine are Geralt and Jaskier. Eskel and Cahir will be along later. And this fucker-” he dropped a coin in the swear jar, “-is the fucking-” another coin, “-swear fucking-” yet another coin, “-jar.”

A little stunned, Aiden stared at Lambert, not understanding the change. His eyes strayed to the jar as Vesemir pinched the bridge of his nose.

“We have a swear jar, not that it seems to deter certain people from dirty language.” At least Vesemir looked a little chagrined at Lambert’s unusual behaviour and Aiden’s gaze drifted back to his wolf.

“Damn fucking right,” Lambert grinned and dropped another coin into the almost empty jar. However, there was something in his face, a veiled worry mixed with pleading hope. It was something Aiden would need to try and tease out of him later, without an audience.

As promised, Eskel and Cahir arrived a few days later, looking road weary. And Lambert had been absolutely right, Eskel adored Aiden. There was a bit of tension between Cahir and the newest addition to the dynamic but, one evening they disappeared, only resurfacing for dinner, looking rather too smug. Lambert should have known to be scared.

It all started off so normal, everyone sat around the table, chatter a low murmur. Which was how Lambert only just about caught the nod between Cahir and Aiden before it all kicked off.

“This meal is fucking delicious,” Aiden announced. Down the table Ciri looked up.

“Swear jar!” She took far too much delight in reminding her family of its existence, especially as she tended to reap the benefits of a full swear jar the most. It meant that they could stock up on more expensive spices and treats for the winter.

“Yeah, Aiden,” Cahir drawled, “pay the fuck up.”

To prove his point, Cahir tossed a coin to the middle of the tabled.

“Fucking fine,” Lambert snapped and two coins landed next to Cahir’s. Everyone stared at them, not knowing whether it was the start of an argument or not.

In typical Geralt fashion, he tried to intervene. “This is not how we speak at the dinner table.”

Rather than achieve peace, Cahir turned to his friend with a grin. “Hey Geralt? Suck my dick.”

Another coin landed in the middle of the table unrepentant and almost proud. The game was on when Jaskier cottoned on and he slung an arm around Geralt and squeezed. “He can only suck my dick. If you want your nubby excuse of a thing suckled, you have three other bloody mouths to choose from.”

He patted his pockets and pulled out an errant coin, flipping it nonchalantly to join the others.

“Hell no,” Aiden leaned forward. “That little bitch can suck my cock but I don’t kneel for a Niilfgaardian.” Another coin landed on the table.

“Not a sodding Nilfgaardian.” Cahir stood and slapped a handful of coin on the table. “If you think I am, then you should have been a stain on your mother’s chin.”

“Oh fuck off and tell your dad to shit jizz!” Aiden pushed away from the table and stood, adding a larger handful of coin to the rapidly growing pile.

Around them, Eskel, Lambert, Vesemir and Geralt looked a little too stunned while Jaskier was cackling.

“Bollocks!” He yelled just to be able to flip a coin up in the air and smack it into the other coins.

“Piss!” Aiden hollered back and laughed.

Cahir snorted out a “shitsticks” much to Eskel’s amusement.

Insults flew around the table amidst wild giggles and the money pile grew and grew until Aiden had one coin left in his hand which he flipped it repeatedly. Obviously, he was mulling something over. Mind made up, he looked around the table. “You’re all a bunch of cunts but I love you all already.”

His last coin was thrown and he sat down, grinning proudly. Cahir settled too, starting to tuck into his meal as if they hadn’t just had a major swearing match. Next to him, Lambert buried his face in his hands, realising what had just happened, embarrassed that two of his boyfriends figured him out so quickly when the rest of his family hadn’t put two and two together. Then again, none of the others spent enough time away from Kaer Morhen with him to know he usually didn’t have such a potty mouth. But, well, someone had to fund a better life for them all and it wasn’t like Lambert could do something nice so obviously. So he swore and paid his fines, letting everyone think he just didn’t care.

At the head of the table, Vesemir cleared his throat and everyone looked up, just to watch him very deliberately add his first coin to the swear jar pile in what had to be several decades.

“You’re all fucking idiots. Literally.”

#geraskier #eskel/lambert/cahir/aiden #eskel/lambert #lambert/aiden #eskel/lambert/cahir #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #aiden #vesemir #ciri #tldr: lambert fills a swear jar