#Gil is a sap

[softquietsteadylove]

Be Mine

Thena woke to the feeling of something fluttering against her cheek. It wasn't Gil's hair, or his hand, or his shirt against her cheek as she laid her head on his chest. She blinked, finally opening her eyes against the Australian sun. She was covered in rose petals. The whole bed was. They didn't even grow roses in the garden.

The Warrior Eternal sat up, looking around the room. There were bushels of plenty of other flowers around, from sunflowers to azaleas. When Gil had time to do this, she had...well, perhaps she had some idea. The night before had been...

Thena stood from the bed, slipping Gil's shirt on, which he kindly laid out for her every morning. She knew he had heard her get up, by this point, but she padded through the house silently, following the trail of flower petals towards the haven of the kitchen.

They weren't scattered sparsely--every step she took was more rose petal than wooden floorboard. The smell was light, telling that they had been spread out much earlier. "Gil?"

"In here, Sweetheart!"

A soft smile came to her at the pet name. He was feeling particularly good this morning, if he was using cute terms of endearment for fun. She didn't mind it.

It had taken her by slight surprise when he first started using them. It was just here and there, but one day she had asked him about the 'Sweetheart's and the 'Darling's. He had apologised and promised not to. She was the one who insisted that if he wanted to, then she wouldn't stop him.

Gil was already plating up a beautiful breakfast with a wide smile on his face. He looked at her like there was no sun in the sky at all--just her. "Hey."

"Hey," she smiled, still but accepting as he came over and greeted her with a kiss. He really was feeling particularly elated this morning. "What's all this?"

"Well," he grinned at her as he pulled out her chair for her and pushed her in and everything. "It's February 14th, my love."

Oh, yes. Western civilisation had concocted some holiday or another for the day around the 15th century?--or was it the 14th? Either way, she never bothered to keep track of all these newer holidays. "I see."

"So, I was wondering," Gil turned, pulling out yet another bundle of flowers, this time white lilies stuffed into the water pitcher. He presented them to her on one knee, just as handsome and charming and lovable as the first moment she laid her eyes on him in deep space. "Will you be my valentine?"

Thena smiled impossibly wide, a featherlight laugh floating up and out of her. The dust in the air turned into sparkles and she shook her head at him. "We have been out here - married! - for centuries. Are you truly asking?"

"Yes!" he insisted, because Gil liked doing things like this. He liked making romantic dinners just as much as he liked making dinners on hard days, and perfectly ordinary days. He liked picking flowers for her and he liked telling her she was more beautiful than every star in the sky. He scooted closer, pushing the lilies into her hands and resting his on her bare knee. "So?--what do you say?"

Thena set the lilies down so she could use both hands. She held his cheeks, tilting him up so she could kiss him with all she had. She could kiss him like they didn't need air, because they didn't (not as much as a silly human, at least). She could kiss him like she never had to let go--like it was just the two of them in the whole world.

Gil let her pull back, both of them smiling against each other's lips. His hands ran over her back, over the linen of his shirt. He settled his cheek against her palm, where it rightfully belonged. "That's a yes?"

"Yes," she laughed, kissing him again for good measure. She sighed at the taste of his delicious food already on his tongue. "What a terrible wife I am, forgetting such an occasion."

"Oh, come on," Gil rolled his eyes, blushing at her way of pointing out how sweet she thought it was that he did things like this.

Thena feigned a woeful, maidenly sigh. "What ever shall I do for my poor, beloved husband?"

"Mm, I don't think anyone would feel bad for me," he pointed out as he sat next to her, waving his fork up and down at her, "when my wife is this beautiful."

Thena took her time dismissing his sweet talk. She poked her fluffy eggs before taking a bite, "you mean after last night?"

Gilgamesh blushed.

"I could shower you with all the flowery compliments you gift me," she suggested, also in a playful mood after such a sweet gesture (and after that kiss).

"I told you, Sunshine," he freely claimed one of her hands for himself as he shovelled a bite of eggs into his mouth. "When I say 'em, they're true."

Thena's eyes drifted down to her fork in her hand, allowing his flattery just for the special occasion. Gil would describe her smile as small and shy, which she would argue it wasn't. The Warrior Eternal had no shyness to her.

Gil happily leaned forward as his wife held up a bite for him on her fork. He would always accept any small gesture of hers, because they were her way of expressing all the things he put into words. They were her form of flowery compliments and flirtations and pet names. And he loved every one of them.

Thena finished her bite and stood, kissing him on the temple before leaving the table. "Finish your breakfast. Then come find me."

Gil blinked as she pulled her hand out of his. He could complain about it, but he was curious as she started waving a blade around--her way of sweeping up the petals from the floor. "Baby?"

"Leave the dishes, my Sweet," she called back, maybe caught up in his sappiness. She picked up the pile of collected petals on her way to the bathroom.

Gil heard the tap for the bathtub squeak on. He tossed back the rest of his food and all but threw the plates into the sink to be taken care of later. He loved cuddling her in the bath, and she knew it. "I'm on my way!"

[ego-meliorem-esse]

I'm happy that somone else doesn't see Alfred as someone who is a over the top sexual symbol. I actually think he's embarassed about it and doesn't really care (Gil inspired his sexual fantasies but he was also someone he could relate to bc everyone around is sex crazed come on not his room!) which also adds layers to his manipulative streak in business, he's willing. He will do what it takes but he won't really care about it. Sex is sex, give him a romantic movie and he'll like it better. He's a sap. He likes corny stuff and is mocked by Matthew for it.

Alfred and sex have an interesting relationship. Mix veryyy conservative upbringing with Puritanic roots with the sex positive attitude of youger people of today. He didnt have the time to adjust fully to the shift as many older nation had, which is what makes it fascinating.

In my mind he is just less interested in it. The embarassmnet is very rare. Hes just a dude that has other priorities and interests. Que that one tiktok of a couple in a car and the lady goes "let me drive your stick shift" (or smthn like that) and the dude goes "not now, i am bestowing knowledge." Lmfao

[lana7779]

They look extra gay because I have no chill.

Ot3 rambles under the cut for those interested!

Ever just love three characters so much you decide to make them work despite two of them explicitly canonically hating each other, the other two are biological brothers, and the third pairing has a 15 year age gap?(Wow, that sounded a lot less problematic in my head...)

Anyways!

They're in love, your honour.

All three of them. Between each other. I refuse to see it any other way. (If you don't agree, that's perfectly fine, these are just my personal Ot3 thoughts.)

Break made little Vince's wish come true by reuniting him with his long lost brother. I wonder how much of Vince's wish influenced Break's decision to make Gil his left eye within the Nightray manor. Would he have asked the same of any poor sap he found out in the rain, or did he conveniently do it because he knew the Nightrays held his brother there and it was his way of giving back to this child he was somehow connected with through the Abyss? His ill omened little brother.

Did Vince put two and two together that it was Break who brought him Gil? Did that ever come up in conversation between them? Like "how convenient that I asked you to send anyone matching Gil's description to the Nightray manor and one day Gil just showed up wrapped up in a bow for adoption."

With that said, Vince's childhood was so messed up... so bloody messed up, my heart weeps for him. No wonder he started showing these incestuous tendencies towards his own brother, who was the only good thing in his life. It's his coping mechanism in a sense, to love his brother above anything else so... passionately.

Frankly, Gil is no less messed up because of his own childhood, but he wants to feel needed, and he is certainly needed by both Vince and Break. Reluctantly, and after a lot of soul searching, he accepts Vince for who he is, and of course he accepts Break, which comes with a lot of teasing and pushing him to his limits. Without Break, he wouldn't be half of the person he could be if the other wouldn't be pushing him beyond his limit constantly (as any good mentor should).

And yes, though Break teases Gil a lot about being mopey and useless, he'd never let anything actually happen to Gil and actually only ever has his best interests in mind, at least on a psychological level. So whether they like it or not, they need each other and rely on each other to be at their best. Gil, via cooking for and maintaining Break's health, and Break, via literally pulling Gil out of brainwashed psychosis.

Similarly, because of Break's caring nature, he can't let Vince commit the irreversible, and that finally slaps some sense into dear ol' Vince to recognize that Break isn't the bad guy, and perhaps he never was.

And thus, with this mutual trust, shared by some deep seated trauma between each other, I see them all bonding with each other and forming deeper connections over time that would lead into a healthy relationship.

At first I thought Gil would be the sole key keeping them together and happy, but after finding all the crumbs that support that Vince and Break could very much work with each other as well, yeah, I think that each pair can exist happily independent of each other, but by God is it so much better to just imagine them polyamourously working together.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, this is my first ot3, and I have entirely too many thoughts about them. 💖

[lya-dustin]

I Sang of Leaves of Gold

Summary:Erinti of the Maiar knew their brother would come back and that the time of the elves would come to an end.

She had not known the time would come so soon. A millennium and a half of peace comes to an end no matter how much she tries to stop it.

Chapter 1

Gil Galad x Maia!oc

Cw: pregnancy, magic, visions

A repost of my fic that i had in my lotr/rings of power blog when s1 came out

The great tree had been a gift.

A symbol of Ilúvatar's blessings and their hard earned peace.

And yet it had begun to wilt. Its vitality had begun to decrease little by little. Drip by drip, little by little until it bleeds out with every leaf and the trunk rots away.

It wasn’t noticeable yet, only to Erinti who was made with the purpose of caring for all the beautiful things Yavanna had created it was. The Maia had chosen to stay in Middle Earth, to heal the lands after so much devastation and live with the elf king whom she fell in love with a millennium ago. Her destiny was to nurture life and now she finally had the privilege of nurturing a life inside her womb.

She is soon to give birth and now ill omens appear all around her.

“When the Tree loses it’s life then you will know the time of the elves will be done.” Eönwë’s pronouncement echoes in her ears as it did when she chose to stay instead of returning to the Undying Lands where no pain nor sorrows could ever touch her.

But Eönwë had said Elves would have one more age in Middle Earth before they are all called back to Valinor. Erinti, Lady of the Flowers and Queen of the Noldor, would not leave until the babe in her womb flourishes and becomes the flaming beacon of Lindon.

Why was it coming so soon?

Why now? Why now when their happiness would finally be complete?

“What ails you, Erinti?” Her husband asks as she felt the tree for signs of blight.

Melkor had been defeated, and Sauron too weak to come out of hiding, but evil remains and it will resurface again just as it had been shown in the Music at the beginning of the world.

There is something in the Music, something that will ruin the melody and only Erinti alone could hear it. She is one of the few here, Tom Bombadil and the wizard in Rhûn lived too far, and, in her condition, travel was out of the question. There was no way for her to consult with them without causing great alarm everywhere.

“Something in the earth is sapping the life of the Great Tree. I cannot find why or how it is happening; I tend to it personally every day, yet the blight returns.” Something terrible is coming, the queen feels a black chill in her bones as she finds the blight in the roots.

Erinti sings the old songs she was taught as she seeks to heal the tree, but the spirit of it rejects her help. As if it were incompatible with her even when Erinti was made to care for it and all the other plants in the world.

It has never happened before.

“It has rejected me?” she gasped as she felt it dissipate into the world instead of feeding the tree.

“Perhaps the tree refuses to take the feä of a pregnant woman. You need all your strength now that you are nearing your time, meleth nîn.” Gil-galad had a tendency to hover over her this past year.

The last child of Maiar and Eldar blood had been Lúthien Tinúviel, and Melian had refused to beget another after laboring days and nights to bring her into this world. The difference in power and kind made unions like there’s almost impossible.

But Erinti Lotheriel has long desired to nurture life inside of her, and after so many centuries they had finally conceived their only child. The Maia had taken every precaution to keep her state from affecting her abilities and the safety she provided for her people, it was not that.

“It has never refused me, even when we conceived our son almost a year ago. It makes no sense for the tree to reject me for carrying a child of my own blood now when it did not do so then.” The red-haired woman shook her head and kept her focus on the silver trunk and golden leaves that still appeared full of life and yet on the precipice of dying. “Something is wrong, I can feel it in my feä, and the tree can feel it in the earth. It is an evil that feeds off hatred, fear, and blood thirst.”

The maia gasps as she sees it in the just beyond the trees. They have never been one to see the future beyond that which relates to her purpose, but she does.

Galadriel paving the way for the Dark Lord to rise and Sauron laughing as the huntress becomes the hunted.

Galadriel giving into Mairon’s seduction as he stokes all that angers and hurts her and becoming what they feared most.

“Galadriel.” It is barely a whisper, as if the queen feared making the vision true just by speaking it out loud.

“Galadriel! She will awaken him, she will not mean to, but she will!” Erinti clutches to her husband in fear of what will come if they cannot put a stop to it.

For the sake of the world. For the sake of all that live in the All-Father’s light, Galadriel cannot be allowed to reach wherever Erinti’s fallen brother has been imprisoned.

For the sake of Middle Earth, she must leave it.

[robo-writing]

both the rosfield boys and jill are probably such suckers for matching accessories with their partners….. they’ve both got their ears pierced i know they would commission a pair that they wear one of on the opposite ear to yours so that ur together even when ur not. the metal stands out strong against clive’s dark hair and joshua has a habit of fiddling with it when he’s deep in thought, jill’s is probably more dangly and twinkles when she walks.

joshua’s would probably be some sort of phoenix earring (who’s surprised) that wraps around the whole shell of the ear with the feathered tail going down past the lobe. he meticulously cleans it each night and is so huffy if it gets covered in dust after a battle

jill i feel would wither be some sort of flower or a little cluster of swords, maybe she’s more of an necklace person as i’m typing this out. oh wait yes she’s so the type to have half of a locket set with you where there’s a commissioned portrait of the other when opened up

clive is more diverse in what the jewellery could be visually tbh. either the sun and moon as a set bc he’s such a sap. maybe also a wolf theme bc they mate for life (and torgal is ur son if ur dating him). perhaps also a signet ring in the shape of a shield with his chronic protector habits

(bonus point of good ol’ uncle byron being so excited he’s like do not pay a single gil for this I WILL!!!!!! let your uncle do this for you consider it an early marriage present. he hasn’t had the chance to spoil brother’s kids in years and he needs to or he’ll just die as he so says)

I like your thinking! I imagine Clive with the signet ring would do wonders while joshua might either have an earring or some kind of brooch/pin on his clothes to match yours. Jill is def a locket girl, she’d probably be paranoid late at night that she’s been gone so long and look to it to see your face and remind herself what she’s coming back to.

And yeah Big Sugar Uncle Byron saves the day (yes he’s buying them all, he will not take no for an answer, if you try you’ll just find a nicely wrapped box at the foot of your door.)

[milesmentis]

What would they think about each other’s love interests (if they romanced someone of course)

Would your warden or Hawke have actually accepted the role of inquisitor if Cassandra had located them as she’d planned to? Would they have been a good leader for the Inquisition?

What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

4) What would they think about each other’s love interests (if they romanced someone of course) 

For the most part, I think that all of my OCs and their LI's would get on well in a group! Individually:

Daren would lay eyes on Merrill and immediately die for her (tiny autistic elf mage is like ... his personal catnip), he'd love Harding (a nice refreshing chat with a sensible Ferelden at last), and he and Bull have ... a lot in common. Like ... a lot. (*cough cough*). He is also the most extroverted and conversant of the group by a pretty wide margin TBH. Very big "friend who wants to meet everyone's boyfriend" energy.

Gil and Zevran did meet, as did Gil and Leliana, and she liked them both though in a polite friend-of-a-friend kind of way. She meets Harding briefly in Skyhold and REALLY likes her, but Bull makes her ... very uncomfortable. However, if she stuck around long enough to get to know more than his mask, she would really enjoy his company.

Hallapan thinks that Leliana is nice, but weird ... honestly she might have tried to rekindle something between her and Daren, if either had been interested, just to give her something to obsess over aside from the Chantry. If she ever met Zevran, the world might literally explode, because they would be instant besties and probably banging within 6 hours. She would think that Merrill was freaky at first, but the second she started talking about Lost Knowledge, Hallapan's eyes would go just as wide as Merrill's and they would be off and RUNNING. Canonically she does know Harding, loves her, loves how Magnus turns into a doe-eyed sap everytime he sees her, number 1 shipper.

Magnus would find Zevran incredibly off-putting from the word go: he's a very direct person, but if he could antagonize his way past Zev's deflection tactics, they could get to a place of mutual respect. Zevran would also be the only person who would say to his face that he wants to bang the Commander so bad it makes him look stupid(er) and honestly, he needs to hear it. He already believes that Leliana is legitimately insane, though ... easy to talk to, but Merrill he would be genuinely afraid of. With Bull he is openly antagonistic and suspicious of him until after Demands of the Qun (his one and only moment of insight was seeing through Bull's shit from Day 1) especially because he sees how Hallapan looks at him. Big "hurt her and I'll bury you or die trying" energy which ... honestly ... Bull respects the fuck out of.

5) Would your warden or Hawke have actually accepted the role of inquisitor if Cassandra had located them as she’d planned to? Would they have been a good leader for the Inquisition? 

So, my Wardenquisitor AU says that Daren would do a decent job over all (though the greater powers of Thedas might disagree because he makes a decent number of allies, but pisses off a lot of traditional power holders at the same time). If it was King-Consort Daren, he absolutely would not have accepted for the same reason that canonically (to me) Cassandra didn't ask: too much unilateral authority. Balancing being a Warden and a monarch is hard enough and he would never take a position that would jeopardize his Queen and country. Gil ... might have accepted if Cass and Leliana had been able to find her, because she is crushingly guilty about Anders and feels a (Carver would say, pathological) need to help people who no one else is looking out for. A chance to try and fix what she viewed as her greatest failures ... yeah, she'd have tried ... and it would have crushed her. Shouldering Kirkwall was suicidal enough, but holding up the sky ... ?

18) What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

Answering this one on another ask (bc this one is already huge jfc)

[qprsmackdown]

ok to be clear, i am not the same silmarillion person as before. i have however, now written 730 words of elrond+gil-galad+celebrian propaganda. enjoy <3

Elrond is caught between mortality and immortality and he watches as his twin takes the other path. It hurts, to know you will never see him again. It hurts more when you watch what they do to his legacy. 

You have lost everyone you've ever loved, their ghosts live in your face, in the star-that-was-your-Father far above, in the way lullabies sung by a voice so sharp it draws blood feel like home. A thousand legacies drowning out the person you've become in spite of them. 

You find a place of belonging, a place of undying devotion, a place of hope. You find love in a war, love for your king, love for your light, and you fight to keep it. Your hands are a healers, but you will bloody them to protect the ones you love. 

Someday, you dream, you will build a home out of something more than battlefield ashes. 

Gil-Galad is crowned king. You were never meant to be king. It is simply that there is no other choice. You are alone, a beacon of shining hope for everyone but yourself, and you will do what it takes to keep your people alive.

If you fall, there is no one left. 

You find your strength in your people, you build a family, you lead your kingdom through the war, and through the peace time beyond. You've never had peace before, you learn how to lead through it regardless. There is no other choice. You belong to your people as much as you belong to the ones you love. 

War is upon you once more and you sacrifice yourself for their future. You hope they can be happy. You always knew this kingdom would kill you. 

Celebrían has explored more of this continent than almost anyone else she knows. It is peace time, you can venture into the unknown without the certainty of death and you overturn every stone, delighting at the bugs, the shells, the world at every turn. 

You are hope, when you pass into Imladris. You will be hope for the rest of your life. Not hope for a future without pain, but hope for the strength to live, to fall in love with the world again, even as it hurts to try. 

The gods sink scarred land. Beleriand cracked under your beloved's feet, the shattered earth falling into the waves, lost as easily as a child's sand castle. 

You've never thought that was very wise. 

You build a quiet love over the centuries, and the taste of saltwater stings your lips. 

All of you are trapped in your own legacies. Elrond, the silmarils and the Feanorian star. Gil-Galad, a spear and a crown that kills. Celebrían and a forest of silver trees, a strand of hair glinting in the sun's light. 

You are orphaned twice over, heir to fallen kingdoms and broken oaths. You are the king of an apocalypse, leader of a dying people led to the slaughter. You are a wanderer, eyes glinting in the moonlight, brave as anything. The messy kind of bravery, where your bones feel frozen and your face burns with tears unshed and you choose to go on anyways. 

You all choose to go on. 

Until you can't anymore. Gil-Galad dies in the war of the last alliance, spear glinting like a fallen star. He's dead, and the crown dies with him. You build a life on the bones of his sacrifice, a family, found a haven that welcomes everyone who needs a safe place to stay. You are happy. 

Until you lose someone else. Celebrían is captured, tortured, and you and your people scour the countryside for her. You find her. She is alive, but Middle Earth is not kind to elves just as Beleriand before it and the world itself saps her strength. If she stays here, she will fade. She sails to Valinor instead, away from everyone she's ever known. She chooses to live. She chooses hope. 

Your and Celebrían's daughter chooses mortality. You are the only one left. You will sail too now, reunite with Celebrían now that the work of defeating Sauron is done, now that you've avenged Gil-Galad.

Maybe, far, far in the future, you will meet again at the end of all things, and take solace in the fact that the three of you are together once more, despite it all.

.

[moonlitbride]

Although, for a single split second, he admired her. How her hair drifted across the grass in chaotic strands. The way her amber eyes shined golden from the moonlight. Her bronze skin held fast by the vibrant material worth more than he could even imagine. How her ample bosom heaved with every intake of breath and lowered as the air exhaled from soft, plush lips. She was a canvas so resplendent that her warmth was brought to shine before the cool emerald grass and sapphire attire. He could admire her for hours, paint her portrait daily should the world grant him the most immense of favors.

i want to frame this, hence this post. the beauty of gil's writing really does justice for emily's and i'm a complete sap over how adoringly victor is already looking at her when the ship hasn't officially even taken off yet.

[bitterarcs]

He didn't like it — the stench of pungent leaves and carcinogenic chemicals burning; it reminded him of home in the same way the smell of blood informed cattle of slaughter. It was preferable over the smell of body odour and that of garbage which littered the slums, more prominent with each year the citizens fell to poverty. Law enforcers only stuck their noses and batons in when urged by ShinRa or the benefit of their pocket outweighed the risk of their lives. It was a jungle of concrete and bodily secretions.

A kingdom fit for a cruel king, and while Reno always pictured himself ruling high, there were so many things he hated about the slums and the poor. Was it an inflated ego — believing himself better than the struggling bakers and fathers with gambling addicts? Cut from the safe cloth as everyone who survived and rotted he may have been, but he was starved for more, more than slitting throats and counting stained gil in the back of a warehouse; even sitting king held its displeasures in his mind.

People were just vile and annoying. Granted, he, too, was vile, wanting to get his dick wet and itching to cause pain. Reno was jaded and hurting people made him forget about it. What else could he do however? He sucked too much dick and stabbed too many saps to become some god damn saint, or worse, a farmer. Nose winkled with disgust just thinking about it, or was it the smoke around him, or the lewd noises being expelled from a woman being pounded into. What a way to spend the fucking evening.

To the right of him Todo, an even more loud mouth crew member, munched away on a semi-stale sandwich with eyes glued to the scene. In times like this, Reno pretended he disliked the scene because there was no point watching two people fuck if he wasn't involved directly. Reno had his other reasons. He used his cigarette was an excuse to drop his gaze, crushing the lit stick within itself and only burning himself slightly as the slapping of flesh ceased. His gaze only jerked upwards when their other crew member, Jamie, pushed away the dirty partition and zipped up his pants.

❛ Does she even know how old you are, man? ❜ That was Todo speaking after swallowing a mouthful.

❛ She's just happy that a young buck gave her a good pounding into. ❜ Jaime dissolved into a proud grin like fucking someone twice his age was a rare feat. Reno had rich shit heads old enough to be his grandfather try to shove gil in his pocket for a night with his mouth; the whole affair left a bitter taste in his mouth the cigarettes could not squash. Paper and ash fluttered down to the ground to join the rest of the muck as Reno drew himself to his feet. He wiped sweat laden palms on his coveralls before shoving fists into oversized pockets.

(  ❛  Riveting as this is, am gonna get action of my own. If I collect on the Yamazaki's, I get enough to buy that fur coat. ❜  )

As spry as he was and slightly underweight, Reno made his swift exit before his gang members could twist his arm into sharing the interest or more talks of sex. At the exit of the building that was mixed steel and plywood, gemstone eyes accidentally met the glassy ones of the woman Jamie had just fucked. She looked high but not regretful, even going as far as offering Reno an inviting smile. Old hag. Hair that could have used a good wash didn't feel the detriment of running dirty fingers through scarlet spikes.

A father and two children veered to the opposite end of the alleyway upon spotting the teen and recognizing sin on his features; Reno snickered. A ragged haired black cat face deep into a rodent spared him a glance and hissed; he flipped it the finger. His plans took him out the slums where he indulged in a food stand specializing in fried curry balls and light people watching. Where the air was slightly fresher, workers, families, and elderly couples loaded themselves into buses.

At another spot, a dull blue bus came to a stop and the typical faces crawled into the arteries of Midgar. Chumps and idiots. Old comers who found nothing but dirt beyond the city or fresh faced newcomers hoping to catch some big break. Donning his coveralls and not enough salacious or stained in blood, there was a decent chance he could run a scam on someone.

Warm ,fried deliciousness was stuffed greedily in his mouth when eyes jumped from a farmer wearing a too tight suit to a kid who looked like a baby chocobo @riotseas. Reno licked the spices off the front of his teeth and jumped into action. Innocent, as innocent as plausible, expression decorated his lips as he saddled up to the outsider. Teeth were bright despite excessive smoking but eyes were brighter.

(  ❛  Needing a map of the city? Only costs 10 gil, friend. ❜  )

[blucifer08]

Does Naru dream often? Does she ever have nightmares or wake up in terror? Or are her dreams pleasant or simply random?

Is there a cultural importance attached to dreams for her? Does she see them as containing messages of importance? Or are they more a burden or even an annoyance?

So, this question is complicated as Naru's dreams get kinda.. taken over by one of my OC's. So lets start with Pre-ARR, young Naru.

Young Naru dreams I think, rarely. Ever so often, and they're either pleasant dreams which to her probably hold some kind of religious symbolism. Dreams relating to the sun and moon, and her steadfast belief that she has a soulmate waiting for her. I'll say these dreams likely aren't very overt in their messaging, but are calming and vague.

She probably has nightmares about hunting animals. These would be unpleasant moments, representing a fear of when the tide of battle may be turned against her. She spent a long time alone on the Steppe hunting for herself, and I don't imagine that she always got out of every skirmish with an animal without a few scratches...

She has very good senses for fighting, which I think can translate to a lot of anxiety when those skills aren't in use, and I think that anxiety could manifest in nightmares.

NOW, For ARR-onward NARU? Buckle-in below the readmore. spoilers for arr-endwalker

Naru meets Solomon in ARR. Solomon is my OC with his own little backstory and motivations. He is part voidsent. I usually refer to him as half voidsent, but a crucial note of his character is that he doesn't know how much of him is voidsent and how much of him is himself... It's complicated, and he could take up his own post in that regard.

Solomon has two abilities.

He can see your past lives, leading all the way back to Ancient time. He is able to review those memories at ease. He CANNOT simply review the memories of your current life, though. (He is able to see certain memories certain characters lost in their past lives, so he is one of the most well-informed characters through endwalker)

He can jump into your dreams, modify them, and take a little tour of your mind to pull memories. It's not as easy as the first one, It's not like reading through and snagging a memory. At best, he can try to trigger you to DREAM the memory that way he can review it. But he mostly uses this ability to get coin from people. He will offer you visions of whatever you hold dear, take your coin, and sap your aether while he manipulates your dream. Coin for the man, aether for the voidsent.

He has much reason to be interested in Naru given he can see that her Azem was involved with Elidibus, and so he spends time trying to get into her dreams. He actually really doesn't get too far until Elidibus gets locked away in shadowbringers. It is at this point that he offers her visions of Elidibus since she cannot see him

And she takes him up on that offer.

Solomon conjures whatever she likes to see, draining her of her gil and sapping her bountiful reserves of aether. And I think that this fucks with her dreams forever, to be honest. I think even after Solomon bites the dust eventually, her dreams are never going to be the same. They will never feel safe, it is now a space that has been taken from her and used against her. I think her dreams would follow the patterns that Solomon set up, which would make Naru feel, frankly, sick. Even with Solomon gone, there's a part of him still there, a mark of his abuse, you know?

Maybe one day that will go away, but for now, I think even with Solomon dead (as he gets killed in post-ew) she is suffering. Her dreams are 'nice,' she sees 'Elidibus,' but it's clearly Solomon's hand in it and she no longer wants this.

[dovqahnaarin]

your character in five quotes

rather than choosing generic in-game statements about the dragonborn or the dialogue options, i followed suit of other OCs on the dash and chose five quotes in general that i felt fit them!

“ ‘You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill. You do not belong here.This is a place of life. ‘ [ ... ] I said, ‘You are a creature of Darkness. You seek to deceive me.’ But I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the warm wind and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt.” - Legend: The Black Garden, Destiny 1

“ If I knew an easier way to exist, I would choose that. People say ‘this is making you stronger’ - like I wanted another reason to stay awake at night. Like I wanted another ruler to measure my survival by. ” - Fortesa Latifi

“ Everyone will want to talk to you. Every youngster will look up to you, and want to emulate you. And then what? They’ll want to leave. [...] You just gave us back all these lives … I can’t take the chance of losing them. You saved us. But you’ll kill us. You’re a hero … and you have to leave. I’m sorry. ” - The Overseer, Fallout 2

“ Does a heart that is rotted cease to be called a heart? Is a mortuary truly just full of dead flesh? Or is it simply waiting for you [...] to breathe it into second life again? ” - Nikita Gil

“ Tell me, oh honored guest … how did you do it? How did you find the strength to destroy something so like yourself? ” - Savathûn, Destiny 2

[gretagerwigsmuse]

i loved reading your answers for bradley so i'm going to ask these as well: 3,5,7,8

oh my god more!?! thank you!

3) what was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go?

we all know it's miss girl's engagement ring like let's not lie to ourselves. he thought about giving her his mom's, but decided he wanted her to have something of her own and gives his mom's ring to gil or maggie eventually. he went with mav to pick it out 🥺 and kept it in his office on base until he asked and sent her dad and step-mom so many pics and he was just so - gahhhh cute! also bradley does have a house, but it's mortgaged so that doesn't exactly count and i don't see him as suuuuper materialistic or anything?

5) what was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances?

the last time bradley cried was when he was cooking dinner because he had to cut and caramelize onions. he's a big movie crier and always cries at the end of it's a wonderful life when harry bailey comes home (you know, the to my brother george, the richest man in town bit?). he's a major sap though and smart aleck seeing him be kind of sappy helps her be comfortable being more vulnerable (re. she's not crying in the shower anymore). but bradley's last good, proper, snooty nosed, puffy eyed cry was def after the uranium mission when he was truly alone for the first time (re. in his bronco in the parking lot on the base) because he was just so tired and overwhelmed, sweet boy!

7) describe the shoes they’re wearing?

so he's def not a sneaker head or anything, but does like a nice, classic nike air pegasus and a pair of white chuck taylors. he owns both black and brown dress shoes, so at least that's something? but yeah he wears his work shoes a lot? no flip flops tho.

8) describe the place where they sleep?

oh sweet boy! well we all know he has the cutest fucking house known to man, but his bedroom in particular has white walls, a oak bed with a headboard, but no footboard, and two cute lil mid-century modern nightstands on either side, a white comforter with white sheets. then there's the infamous chair that used to hold all his not-quite-clean-not-quite-dirty clothes, but she put a kibosh on that pretty early on in their relationship. it's just pretty light and airy with two big windows. eventually they put up a bunch of pictures of them and the kids 🥰

character questions!

[c0rpseductor]

dear everybody on aether please buy all my palm sap and things im going to gather today because of i want to make gil. Thanks I love you

[blackmagicabsinthe]

How Kore and Lori Met

This is just a silly little drabble I wrote for my girlfriend about our characters from FFXIV. Hope you enjoy! ^-^

Kore wandered the market stalls, hating that it had come to this. She always tried to source her own ingredients for her potions, but the newest concoction wasn’t coming together right, and she needed an herb that could only be grown in specific conditions. Her only option now was to buy one that someone had grown in their greenhouse. Kore would have just waited and grown her own plant, but she had never been one to settle down in one place so a house was simply out of the question. Now she was suffering for this character flaw, the sounds of the market around her piercing her ears.  

She grimaced and adjusted her satchel that was slung across her shoulder, holding it in front of her as a small barrier between her and the world. Squashing down her panic, she tucked her head and merged into the crowd, beelining for the herb seller section of the market. Each person that bumped into her made the anxiety rise, she felt suffocated and just wanted to get out as soon as possible. It felt as if everyone around her kept growing taller and taller, towering over her and trapping her with no escape. Her breath started to catch and she felt a little dizzy. 

Just as she felt she was reaching her limit, the crowd broke and she stumbled to her knees in front of a stall. It seemed that no one was stopping at this one, and she appreciated the relief. After taking a moment to gather herself, she finally looked up-and almost headbutted someone who was directly above her.  

“Whoa, are you alright? That spill looked painful, do you need a hand up?” 

A beautiful viera stood above her, her purple hair cascading in curls over her shoulders. Her bright golden eyes were filled with concern, as she looked over Kore. She reached a hand out to Kore, but she frowned and pushed herself to her feet. 

“I’m fine, thank you for your concern” she replied automatically. She eyed her over, trying to evaluate what she might want from her. She was dressed rather casually, in an oversized sweater and a pleated skirt. It suited her though, with one shoulder slipping off a shoulder exposing a long expanse of neck. Kore snapped that though from her head, being attracted to strangers was not something she entertained. Not anymore. 

“Ok, if you’re sure. If you want though, I might have an extra healing potion in my stall.” She walked around the booth and started digging around under the table. She must be the owner of this stall, she probably wanted to sell her something. Kore was ready to simply slip back into the crowd, until she realized the booth was full of herbs, plants, and potions. Exactly what she had been looking for. She belatedly realized that the woman was still talking, and she tuned back into her conversation. 

“Usually the health potions go first thing in the morning, the adventurers always sweep through before heading off to one dungeon or another. But I always keep one or two on me in case of emergencies...aha! Here we are!” She popped back up from under the table, brandishing a small bottle full of red viscous fluid.  

“I don’t need that. Do you have any Halone Gerbera?” she spoke decisively, hoping to complete the transaction and leave as quickly as possible. The woman scratched her head, looking concerned again. 

“Halone Gerbera? That’s a pretty rare ingredient, what are you using it for? I might have some cheaper ones that would work better, would hate for you to spend more than you’d need.”’ 

Kore frowned again, unsure at what her game was. Why would a merchant not want to push the more expensive sale? Wasn’t it all about the gil for them? Was she trying to manipulate Kore into trusting her for some reason? She cautiously replied, “I’m working on a potion, and I need it for a stabilizer.” 

“If you just need to stabilize ingredients, have you tried Scarlet Sap? It’s a good general stabilizer, could work for what you’re trying to do?” 

“Scarlet Sap breaks down under high heat, Halone Gerbera is more resilient to temperature changes.” 

“It doesn’t break down unless you’re going over 300 degrees, what on earth are you making?” 

Kore tensed, “Why does it matter? Do you have it or not? I have other places I can check without wasting my entire day here arguing with you.” 

“Ha! That’s fair, I suppose I don’t really need to know. I just like to help if I can. I do have some, it’s over here,” she reached underneath a big leafy fern and pulled out a small bundle of herbs. “I try to keep it hidden to discourage people looking for the five-fingered discount.” 

“You let people finger you for a discount?” She asked confused, momentarily letting her guard down, 

The woman looked shocked, then burst into loud laughter. Kore immediately clammed back up, regretting her words and hating that she still hadn’t gotten the gerbera. After what felt like an eternity, she quieted down and wiped away a few tears. 

“No, but for some people I’d certainly make an exception.” She winked at Kore, and she furrowed her brow in return. “It’s just a term for pickpocketing, or stealing. Gotta say I like your interpretation more though.”  

“Look can I just get those herbs please? The day is already over half over and I’d like to be able to get something productive done today.”  

She reached out a hand across the table and said, “Hi, I’m something productive.” 

Kore flushed and turned to walk away, but she laughed again and said, “I’m joking, please don’t go! My name’s Lori, and it’ll be 1200 gil for the gerbera.” 

She stopped. That was an extremely genourous deal, and she already wasn’t sure if she’d be able to find another stall with it. Sighing, she turned back around and started counting out her gil. Lori wrapped the herbs gently with some paper and twine, but held them back for a moment. “I didn’t catch your name?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” she grumbled, trying to get her to accept the gil.  

“Well it’s nice to meet you Miss Matter! I hope we will cross pathes again soon!” Lori grinned and traded the gerbera for the gil, then waved farewell as Kore stalked off. 

Well. 

That had certainly been an afternoon. 

But she had what she wanted, and if she was lucky, the mixture would hold and she wouldn’t have to go back to the market again for a good long while. Still, she found herself thinking about the interaction longer than she would like. Her mind lingered on the curve of Lori’s smile, and the feeling of her long fingers ghosting over hers when they traded items. She pushed those feelings down and away, no good would come of them. After all, she had work to do. 

[tiraviarp]

Where There is Love, There is Pain

(WARNING: this story contains implications of past character death and gender dysphoria.)

It was halfway through the annual Valentione’s Day celebrations, and Arden was in a mood.

Not any of his usual moods, anyway, the kind that would make him scramble for his ideas list and find something to sate his mind. Not a mood where he felt on the verge of exploding, or at least approaching it, and preparing himself for the fallout that would inevitably ensue.

No, it was a particular mood, one that he hadn’t felt since June of the previous year.

It was Valentione’s Day. An inescapable tidal wave of red hearts, lovey-dovey couples, and romantic marriage proposals happening in front of aetherytes for all to see.

He was here, in Gridania, at the heart of the celebrations, strapped to the side of a veritable child to promote the event, because he sucked at money management and he was promised a nice sum to be warm and excited to random people on the street.

Why did he even come here in the first place? He knew what celebration was going on at the amphitheater, yet in this mood of his, his feet took him here anyway.

And it really, really was not helping him at all.

“Valentione’s Day celebrations are being held at Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre! There will be costumes and merrymaking and a special congregation wherein participants profess their love! Please join us if you have the time.”

The little Elezen girl, Emilie, at his side was a chatterbox once he’d shown her how to hawk something confidently. Why was he like this? Why was he seen as a good person to do this kind of job? Just because he spoke loud and brashly and was easy to grin, didn’t mean he had passion.

And certainly not passion for this. He was just here for a paycheck. As soon as the gil was in his hands, he was ready to teleport back to his sad little cottage on the edge of the cliff and deal with all these squirming, writhing feelings of frustration (and sadness?) that were threatening to burst out of his chest.

“There’s no shortage of Valentione’s gifts to choose from at the markets. By all accounts, the most popular chocolate is from the Bismarck.”

Because why wouldn’t those feelings take a break for the season? They were always there, fluctuating in strength day by day, and they just had to notice the decorations and clamour all around. Hiroc was never far from his mind, and likely never wouldn’t be.

Would Hiroc have liked chocolate? He didn’t know. He liked savory things, with lots of spices, but that was hard to come by. Maybe chocolate would’ve been too sweet for his diet of hardtack and soldierly rations. Why was Arden, of the two of them, gifted the blessing to even have the chance to know what chocolate tasted like?

And could his mind please give him a break from thinking about him this time of year?

“Are you planning to give a special someone a gift, too? Assuming you have the skills, they say nothing conveys your feelings quite like chocolate you made yourself. And if you’re thinking flowers, a red Azeyma rose never fails to please!”

Apparently not for as long as he stayed in this suffocatingly sweet place, on this job he shouldn’t have taken.

The hilarious thing about how his mind turned over and over the thought was that who was to say what they’d had was love? It wasn’t, at least not to Arden. One lonely rainy night, he’d opened up his tomestone and searched for what is love. Besides the great music that’d turned up (he’d found himself humming along with ‘baby don’t hurt me’ for a few days after that, thinking of all the people like Hrudolf that he’d - well, he didn’t need to think of that, either, and open that can of worms), he’d read through the numerous sites that came up to help poor saps figure out if they were in love or not.

Do you feel charged and euphoric around them? Check.

Do you feel like you can’t wait to see them again? Check.

Do you always make time for them? Check.

Do you idealize them? Check.

Do you mind making sacrifices for them? Check of all checks.

Yet, deep down, he knew he didn’t love Hiroc. Even if all the words were right. Love implied something…else that he didn’t know, and Hiroc and him weren’t that.

“Um…are you okay?”

Love, at least, implied that there’d be a wholehearted attempt at making chocolates and getting special roses. He’d tried, yet everything he cooked comes out as inedible cinders and burnt pans, and all of his Azeyma roses turn out black and dry, never getting the chance to bloom. If he even had the mind to make chocolates to set out at Hiroc’s grave, or gave enough care and attention to grow even a single flower right for someone, maybe that would be considered something, but he never ever had thoughts like that, so that meant -

“Arden…?”

Arden snapped out of his rumination, grunting a single “Aye” and refusing to look down at Emilie. “Let’s get this job done.”

He could practically feel the girl’s nerves return, and all that was doing was rattling around the already-jumbled thoughts in his head. Good Emperor grant him strength and resolve, he was going to have to convince her now that he wasn’t some loveless lunatic stray she’d had the misfortune of picking up off the street.

Ugh.

______________________________________________________________

“A very good day to you, miss! Do you not simply adore this sweet season of ardor and affection?”

Arden recognized that he was a horrible liar. But in place of that, he was a terrific performer, and he was putting on an award-worthy showing of an excitable Valentione’s emissary.

“It only comes around once a year, aye, but it’s such a wonderful time. When else can ya let loose the flames of passion in front of a crowd and not get gaoled fer - ow!”

Emilie’s surprisingly sharp elbow jabbed him in the side, her happy smile dropping into a disgruntled scowl for a moment. “Ignore him,” she said, picking back up her expression for the woman in front of htem. “He’s new to being an emissary assistant, and can get a little lost in the fun himself!”

“Hey, I was doin’ great,” he hiss-whispered, just as the woman laughed, “It’s quite alright! It’s great to see young ones like yourselves having a good time. Now, tell me, are you here about the Valentione’s celebrations?”

“Indeed we are!” Emilie brightened, the chance of reading from the script seeming to smooth over her annoyances. “Over at Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre, we are hosting a delightful event with gorgeous costumes to try on and an opportunity to speak of love to your heart’s content!”

The thoughts that threatened to rampage all around his mind again, he shoved away into the farthest recesses of his mind as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Be a brat, be an annoyance, do whatever it takes to keep his mind in the now - with any luck, the woman would be offended and threaten him, and he’d be able to preoccupy himself with trying to de-escalate her before she called the Wood Wailers on him.

Unfortunately, the woman was a sprightly one, only waving him off and snickering. “Well now, what passionate, dashing, and daring emissaries you are! Thank you for the invitation - and good luck with the festivities!” And then she wandered off, leaving just the two of them.

Where Emilie previously was dragging him about too and fro, a little stammer in her voice as she announced their next target, she was now still and staring off into the distance.

Maybe all of this was done, and she was going to announce that they were done, and Arden could take his pay and leave. If that were the case, maybe he’d actually start believing in miracles and gods watching over people.

Instead, all he got was disappointment. “...Dashing?” she murmured under her breath, sighing long.

“What’s the matter?” he drawled out. “We’ve hawked t’ everyone all around. Ye’ve earned the compliment.”

Emilie turned to him, startled. Did she think that he couldn’t hear her? “I…I know it was said in kindness, but I just…” She shook her head. “No. This is no time to complain - not when Astrid’s trying so hard to do her sister proud.”

He raised a brow. Did she not like it?

“She was hesitant about the dress - said that such attire doesn’t become her - but she donned it anyway in order to be like Lisette. And she positively shines in it, don’t you think?” The girl smiled almost wistfully, picking at the cuffs of her tuxedo jacket. “It was to help her shine even brighter that I decided to wear this suit. I believed it would serve to provide contrast when we’re side by side onstage.”

Ah. He had an idea of where this was going. Something unpleasant prickled at the back of his mind, but he shoved it away.

“But this - this simply isn’t me. I’ve always preferred to look ladylike. Adorable. And being called ‘handsome’ and ‘dashing’ reminds me of how far from myself I am right now. I need to persevere, I know this. It isn’t the time to be selfish. And yet -”

Ah, there is was. Of all the times for dysphoria to rear its ugly head, it had to be now, too? Not only a big festival dedicated to love, but now gender presentation was a thing he had to deal with.

This was the worst holiday. And the worst part was that he couldn’t just leave her like this, as much as he wanted to leave and deal with his mind suddenly remembering oh yeah, you have a problem with that too!

“Yer allowed t’ wear whatever ya want, y’know? If it feels better t’ wear a dress, wear it. Hells, go swap with what’s-her-face - I’d bet she’d be thankful.”

Emilie blinked slowly, staring up at him. “You…think so? But what about our roles? It’s always been a ladylike lead, and a gentlemanly assistant. Lisette created Valentione’s in the image of herself and her partner.”

“People aren’t gonna get excited about a holiday if the leads are sufferin’,” Arden snorted. Would logic appeal to her? “Just go and offer t’ swap. I know I’d be excited t’ swap on my bad days.”

“...you too?”

Shite. That is not what he wanted her to say. He knew he was a master of digging himself into holes on purpose, but this was not the time to enjoy climbing out of it. The only way this could be worse is if he saw his reflection in a pond on the way out and see himself looking like this, instead of what he really looked like in the past and in his mind’s eye, and, ah hells, now he was intimately aware of the fact that he wasn’t feminine enough for his tastes switching at just that moment.

If only she could just go home and change into something that would feel right and get him the right type of attention. People would just see him as some stray, feral guy right now, and people like Emilie would see him as some stray, feral guy that preferred feminine to masculine, and neither would be right in this moment because nothing could ever settle down in his brain, could it? Always hungry for ideas and stimulation, always thinking about Hiroc and what could’ve been, always jumping around between different presentation styles as if it had to matter. It didn’t have to matter, if only his body actually performed right and did what he wanted it to do. It didn’t have to betray him, now did it? And it didn’t have to betray him in such a simple, way, no - it had to be extra, just like he himself.

He often wondered if this was his ultimate punishment. Never knowing what to expect and never feeling comfortable, always looking at the past for the comfort he’d never have again. It popped up in all sorts of unexpected ways - first Hiroc and this stupid festival filled with red hearts and people feeling passionate about each other, now being reminded by a tiny Elezen girl of what he lost and what she still could have, if only she would just take it.

“Yeah,” is all he said in a clipped tone, crossing his arms. “I ain’t talkin’ about it with ya, though. Go talk it out with her. I’m goin’ fer a walk.”

Without waiting for Emilie to reply, he turned on his heel and stalked away. He needed to vent some steam, quickly, before he boiled over.

______________________________________________________________

When Arden returned to Mih Khetto Amphitheatre a bell later, sweaty and undignified with thunder still tingling his fingertips, he saw that something had changed.

Obviously, the two Elezen girls had swapped clothing. At least, he thought so - even if he couldn’t remember which was which, they both looked happier, which he doubted would be the case if Emilie didn’t speak up. But there was also a different vibe around the stage, an expectant one.

Of course, the expectant vibe was pointed directly at him. He saw it in the ways both girls locked eyes before waving him over. Well, the good thing is that he’d be out of here soon, whether they liked it or not.

“I’m here fer my pay,” he said before they could say anything first.

“Arden, you’ve returned!” said the one he thought was Emilie, now dressed in an adorable suede leather dress. “We were worried about you, you know. 

“Haw? Nah, ya don’t have t’ be worried about me. I take care of myself plenty fine.”

“Do we need to be worried for the Hearers?” the black-suited one said, eyeing his still-crackling fingers. He quickly shook them out. “I hope you didn’t disturb any of the elementals.”

Arden rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m a thaumaturge doesn’t mean I go around destroyin’ things, kid. I was just tossin’ a lightnin’ ball around.” They didn’t need to know that the ball was ready to explode at the slightest touch, and that he was flinging it around trees and beasts to keep his mind occupied.

Emilie coughed into her hand at the resulting silence, offering him a small sack. “W-Well…we’ve got your pay right here. Thank you for all your help! I wouldn’t have learned to talk like an emissary if you weren’t there. Were it not for your encouragement, Astrid and I might have continued to be miserable, trying to be someone we’re not. You helped us be true to ourselves.”

“Good, good,” he replied without much thought, reaching for the bag. It felt like a nice sum, more than he’d been promised. They’d thought he’d done a good job, then, which was fine by him; that just meant he could save more for that nice ring he’d found -

“...Actually, before you go, we’d like to propose something.”

Arden stopped his motion to pocket the bag, raising an eyebrow at the girl called Astrid. “...Ya’d better not be askin’ me t’ do more.”

“We were, in fact!”

Oh, for the love of - Would this day ever end?

“Why?”

“Because I told Astrid what you told me,” Emilie declared. The traitor. “About how you felt similar to us. You didn’t say how you felt, but your words inspired us to have a conversation. As emissaries of love, our duty is to help people embrace their hearts - but how were we to do that if we didn’t embrace our own, and didn’t love ourselves and pursue our own happiness? That is what led us to swap clothes, in the end. But do you love yourself and pursue your own happiness?”

“I can’t fit into yer tiny clothes, kid, so I don’t know what yer talkin’ about -”

Emilie continued as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “I wasn’t blind to your frustration while we worked together. First it was the festivities itself that you clenched your teeth at, especially when I asked you if you had someone special in mind. Then, you got frustrated with my nerves about asking Astrid to change, saying that you felt similar.”

“We aren’t asking you to make you madder,” Astrid placated with arms outstretched. “We’re asking because the best way to learn about and understand something is to work with it, rather than hide away from it. You’ve lost someone special to you, haven’t you? And you still struggle with feeling comfortable in your own appearance?”

He could feel all that frustrated energy he’d spent time working out building back up, writhing and seething. More than that, though, a memory was bubbling to the surface, one that he unashamedly clung to as soon as it appeared:

“Yer not gonna get any better if ya don’t try, Hiroc,” she said, towering over him lying on the ground. “Don’t ya wanna be a hero? Get up - they won’t accept ya as one unless yer good.”

Hiroc closed his eyes, heaving a slow sigh. “I want t’, aye. But we’ll have t’ hurt them. I know I signed up fer this, but…”

“They’ll learn. As long as yer gentle and let them learn, they won’t see ya like they see the Garleans. Ye’ll be the bridge between Ala Mhigo and Garlemald, and they’ll thank ya! And ye’ll  be famous!”

“We’ll be famous, Arden. I’m not taking the title all for myself.” Hiroc’s eyes snapped open, and as he went to sit up, she backed up. “If I’m going to be a hero, ye’ll be right up there with me.”

“Aye, aye. Fine.” Though she rolled her eyes, she was grinning. “I’ll be the sidekick. Happy?”

And Hiroc smiled right back at her. “More than ye’d ever know.”

“Valentione’s isn’t all about being a festival of romantic love. While it can be, and it can be very passionate and bold, it’s about all forms of love. Romantic, platonic, and anywhere in-between, a love for life or something you’re passionate about…and as we’ve just remembered, a love for yourself. By working our festival and talking with our guests, we think that you could benefit.”

Which of the girls was speaking? He couldn’t tell. As he shook off the memory, his vision was a little blurred. All of that pent-up energy was suddenly gone, leaving him feeling drained.

“Not to mention, you wouldn’t go empty-handed! You’d earn a nice sum each day, plus have access to our wardrobe. You could wear whatever style you’d feel comfortable in, and switch whenever you want. You’d have time to explore that part of yourself, too, in a comfortable environment. You already know you aren’t the only one who’s felt that way!”

It was all ridiculous. A week-long event filled with red hearts and passionate professions of love everywhere was affecting him more than an entire month and a flag he’d hidden under the broken couch at his cottage, and certainly more than the technical research he’d done about himself.

Why? Why was it this way? 

“O-Of course, we wouldn’t want to pressure you into making a decision now,” said the one in the dress. Emilie. Right. “You’re welcome to think it over, or even decline outright. We won’t think less of you.”

Arden sighed long and heavy. “...Gimmie time t’ think.”

______________________________________________________________

The next day, as the sun was just beginning to rise over the Shroud treetops, Arden returned with bitten-up lips and a sobering look. Astrid and Emilie watched as he made his way to the stage.

Well. Here goes.

“...Gimmie the heart stencil”.

[yellow-faerie]

Anyway, I'm on a long car journey with nothing to do but listen to music and think, and now I have a Silm Anastasia AU brainrot.