#I wanted to draw them affectioning but also sad and wistful

[beckface]

*Throws these at you at top speed shattering your eyeballs* I FOUND MY OLD SBUMISSIONS FOR THE COLORING BOOK TAKE THEM HERE TAKE THEM OUT OF MY HOUSE THEY'RE YOURS NOW

[dent-de-leon]

Some thoughts about Molly choosing the name Kingsley in the context of tiefling virtue names: When he first wakes, Mollymauk only has a scarce few words he clings to. They’re more like titles, really. Names. His list of tarot cards, named after his loved ones for the traits and ideals they each embody--tiefling virtue names. Love, Magician, Tinkerer, Sea, Joy, Rumor. It makes sense if Molly decided to assign himself a title as well. 

Jester: Okay, I’m going to go sit down next to him. “Hi, Molly. Um, I didn’t ask Yasha how long it took you before to get acclimated to your surroundings, but I thought this might help.” And I’m going to pull out the tarot cards. “Because I noticed you said all the names of these when we were up there.” And I’m going to show him The Tinkerer, and I’m going to show him The Magician card, and Love, and Joy. “All of them. That’s us. And this is you, Molly. Anyway, if you want to, you know, just look at them. Maybe you’ll feel better after a little bit.” 

Molly chooses the name Kingsley upon waking with his last memory as a sense of regalness, royalty. Kingliness. 

Kingsley: “Mollymauk, really? Oof.”

Caleb: “Tealeaf. Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Kingsley: “Ah. Tealeaf’s nice. I don’t know. The very last feeling I had was a...royal kingliness. Kingsley...Kingsley Tealeaf, I like it...King Tealeaf, long may he reign! There we are.”

It doesn’t sound too terribly different from Jester latching onto her tiefling virtue name because she liked the sound of it and thought it represented her more than her given name. Kingliness and Jester are both inspirational traits the two tieflings strive to emulate. Both choose their names seemingly on a whim, and don’t care for their given names. Furthermore, the name Kingsley echoes Jester’s sentiment that she wants to bring joy to others. To cheer them up and make them laugh. 

Molly’s grand declaration of, “I am your god! Long may I reign,” is cried out mockingly. And when Beau reflects on his brief time as royalty, she emphasizes how he brought joy to everyone he met. How he left every place better than he found it. “He told me this story about tricking a town into thinking he was royalty, being a king, to pull off a scam...he told that fucking story, and I realized: even in his scams, when he was doing something shitty, he was still making people feel good or feel special. The town was being visited by--graced by his presence, by his royal highness.” 

Jester: “Well, I thought [Jester] sounded cool. I thought jesters were people that made people laugh...[my mother] did [name me], but she told me I get to choose my own name.”

Caduceus: “I don’t think tieflings--do tieflings get--there’s a thing, for--”

Caleb: “What did your mother call you, before Jester?”

Jester: “Genevieve...I like Jester, okay? Jester. Jeez.” 

Artagan: “It’s a much better name.” 

Beau: “Can I call you Genny?”

Jester: “No, you can call me Jester.” 

What Taliesin says about Jester’s virtue name is something I really love, “They have a word for people who do that already. They’re called jesters...the trickster who shows the truth. I mean, how did you end up with that name in the first place?” A trickster who shows the truth. Jester is the one to cast Greater Restoration on Molly in hopes of restoring his memory. And while that doesn’t quite pan out the way she hopes, there is something else she does that lights a spark of recognition. She’s the one who draws the connection between Kingsley and his cards, who’s able to show him the undeniable truth--that he’s still their Molly.  

Jester: I pull out the cards again. “Look, look, look, look!” 

Kingsley: I look at the cards. “Is...that supposed to be me?”

Laura: “Obviously.” 

Kingsley: “And these are supposed to be you?”

Beau: “You gave them to us.”

Kingsley: “Suppose that’s possible...”

Beau: “Those titles--”

Kingsley: “I get...feelings from you. All of you. But--”

He admits it’s possible he could have drawn those cards, even when he tries so hard to reject the notion that he and Molly could ever be one and the same. More importantly, he eventually relents and acknowledges the fact that he undeniably has feelings for the Nein. His memories might be gone, but it’s his heart all the same. It’s why he knows that Yasha is Love from the moment he first wakes, why he’s still inexplicably drawn to all of his loved ones. 

All of his lingering affection for the Nein, his love for them--it bleeds through the haze of missing memories. When he dreams of a circus and a sad angel and all the Nein’s adventures, he’s wistful, longing. It’s not just that he dreamed, it’s, “I was having the nicest dream.” He wants to hold onto the Nein, to those precious memories, deep down in his subconscious. He looks back on the dream with fondness. It’s a good dream. The nicest dream.

There’s also something interesting about the implications of Molly seeing himself as a King while his close friend is a Jester. The fact that Jester is the one who adds to his tarot deck, a Moonweaver deck where all the cards are double-sided and there’s an emphasis on duplicitous meaning. Two sides of the same coin. More alike than they may seem.

Molly claimed he was a god and king, even though it was all a charade. And yet, he’s immortalized as such long after he’s gone, honored and revered by the people he loved. “Long may he reign.” A Fool just playing at being King. And yet, does it really matter, when he was beloved like one? The Mighty Nein tell Kingsley he’s a circus performer. He says he feels like he was royalty. Claims to be entirely separate from Mollymauk, yet chooses a virtue name that emblemizes Molly perfectly. Once more masquerading as a king. A trick that shows the truth.

We know Molly does have a tarot card with himself drawn on it, because there are two times in the finale when Jester confirms it. And maybe this is just wishful thinking, but...we never saw what Mollymauk’s card was. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an ornate illustration of Mollymauk in a crown and ostentatious, elaborately embroidered coat--on a tarot card called The King.

[elvish-sky]

Hope {Aragorn x Reader}

A.N: So no prompts done today cause I was working on this, but I’m proud of it and will get right on prompts tomorrow! This is the completely reader-insert version! I honestly had so much fun writing it and am honored that this person wanted me to do so. I hope y’all like it!

Requested by @ask-the-elf-stuff on Tumblr

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 1,799

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, the smallest bit of angst.

****

Hope

“You’re really leaving?” You gazed into Aragorn’s eyes, hoping that it wasn’t true.

    “I have to, Y/N. The fate of Middle-Earth depends on it.”

Your head dipped in understanding, but also sadness. 

“Do not fear. I will return.” He cupped your chin with his hand, tilting your head and kissing you. It was a light kiss, nothing like the others you had shared before. This kiss was the hope that you’d see each other again.

Breaking away, you forced a smile as you hugged him, trying not to cry. Stepping back, you waved as he followed the rest of the newly formed Fellowship through the gates of Imladris. Your father stood next to you, and as Aragorn passed through the gates Elrond drew you into his side. 

“He’ll be back, hína (child),” Elrond said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you rested your head on your father’s shoulder as you watched the man depart.

Weeks later, you were pacing your room, determined to do something. Arwen stopped short in the doorway as she saw you pack open on your bed as you shoved things inside.

     “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“I do not know why, but I have felt a pull to follow. An ache, almost painful in its strength, has settled inside me and so I knew I must follow. We have not heard from the Fellowship in weeks, Aragorn could be hurt, or someone else could be, or he could be,” your voice broke, “dead.

The elf nodded in understanding. “The ache is telling you to be with the one you love.”

She then clasped your hand. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You looked at her, unshed tears of worry clear in your eyes.

“If he was dead, you’d feel it. And I know as your sister I should be telling you not to go, but I cannot help but notice the pain you’ve been in these last weeks. So go, find him.” She spread a map out onto a small table nearby, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you just carry that everywhere?”

She shot you a look, and you quickly clammed up, peering over her shoulder as she pointed things out. 

“After crossing the mountains visit our grandmother in Lothlorien, the Fellowship had planned to pass through there, and she will know where they are.” 

You took it all in, remembering the route to Lothlorien from visits to your grandparents you had made before your mother went west. 

“Thank you, Arwen.” You smiled up at your sister.

She clasped your wrist before pulling away, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “Stay safe, Y/N.”

You nodded, shoving the last things into your pack before slinging it over your shoulders with your bow and quiver, daggers sheathed on your thighs, hugging your sister one last time before leaving your room.

   You strode down the hallway, dressed in leather hunting clothes as you made your way to the gates of Imladris. You had stopped by the kitchens to gather food supplies, making sure they thought you were only going for a hunting excursion. 

Entering the courtyard, you saw your father standing in the center, clearly waiting for you. Silently cursing Arwen, as you had hoped to slip away unnoticed, you made your way over to him.

“I should not let you do this.”

You frowned at his words, drawing breath to protest, but before you could Elrond spoke again.

“But you are free to go. I feel the ache and have felt it every day since your mother departed. I know that nothing but being with the one you love can ease that pain, and it would hurt me to know you are experiencing it. Go to Estel. I give you my blessing.” 

You hugged your father before turning and mounting your horse, brought from the stables. Turning to wave to your father one last time, you leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go, Daeroc. Let’s go find Aragorn.” The horse broke into a trot, and you left Imladris behind.

Weeks later, you led Daeroc into Lothlorien, waiting for the sentries to appear. One dropped down from a tree, and you smiled at him, recognizing the face.

“Haldir,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Y/N. It is good to see you again. I assume you are here to see the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?”

You nodded, “Yes. I have not seen my grandparents in a long time. But before we go to them could you find someone to take care of Daeroc?”

Another elf came into view, nodding to you as she took the reins from your hands. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her.

Later, you walked into the courtyard, bowing to your grandparents standing on the stairs above. 

“Y/N, my daughter’s daughter. What brings you here?” Galadriel smiled at you, descending the stairs with her husband to greet you, each clasping your wrist. 

“To see you, of course, and seek news of the Fellowship that I assume has passed through here.” 

Your grandmother smiled. “It seems you are in luck, for they are here as we speak.”

Your eyes widened. “But they should have been long gone by now. I wonder what has caused the delay?”

Celeborn’s face softened. “Then you do not know.”

“Know what?” You were beginning to grow quite worried. “What has happened?”

“They could not make it through the pass of Caradhras, so they turned and went through Moria, costing them the life of Mithrandir.”

You gasped, heart aching at the grief that must have caused them and the grief you now felt. 

“May I see them?” All you wanted now was to see your friends and the man you loved.

“Of course.” Galadriel beckoned you to follow her, and you did, softly conversing with your grandmother and updating her on the lives of her family in Imladris, as well as others she knew.

Stepping into the clearing, you turned to thank Galadriel, watching her fade from view behind you for a moment before continuing. 

There he was. Tall and handsome still, even grimy with dirt and dust from his travels. You debated casually walking up and greeting him more sedately, but watching him you just couldn’t hold back. All your elvish instincts left you, and you sprinted towards him, leaping into his shocked arms as kissing him for all you were worth. He kissed you back for a moment, and then pulled away, the surprise on his face clear.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

You smiled at him. “Of course I did, meleth.”

He smiled back at you, and drew you in for another kiss, hands holding you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. Deepening the kiss, he moved so your back was pressed against a tree and his hands were free to slide up your back, tangling in your hair as you lost yourselves in each other.

Sometime later, you sat with the rest of the Fellowship after the nighttime meal, talking. It was good to see them again, you had grown fond of all of them, even the dwarf, during their time in Imladris. But of course, the only person you really had eyes for that night was Aragorn, who sat next to you with an arm around your shoulders. 

Legolas had seemed puzzled with how comfortable you were with affection, it was rather un elf-like. You had explained to him that because of your father’s past, he was slightly more affectionate than a normal elf, and showed it. You hadn’t missed the wistful look on Legolas’ face as you spoke and recalled what you knew of his family, feeling sorry for him. 

Later that night, you sat by the dying embers of the fire alongside Legolas. Aragorn had gone with the hobbits to wash up, and Boromir and Gimli were sleeping, so it was just you and the elf.

“Legolas?” The older elf looked at you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, and you continued, “I was just wondering, do you know of something like an ache? It began right after the Fellowship departed Imladris, and only subsided when I arrived here. What does it mean?”

He smiled. “Y/N. That was the bond between your soul and Aragorn’s, pulled taught with your fear of losing him. Now that you are reunited, it has gone because you are together. It is every elf’s greatest dream and worst fear to have that feeling.”

You smiled. “Have you?”

The pain in his eyes told you that maybe that was not something to be asked of others.

“I am not sure if it is in my destiny to ever feel that.” He gazed into the distance.

The two of you sat in easy silence for a long time, after that. 

“Y/N.” You turned to see Aragorn beckoning to you, and with a nod to Legolas, you rose.

“You do not have to come with us. It will be a journey of great peril, and I do not want to put you in that much danger.”

You gazed at him earnestly, “Aragorn. I shall be there when the crown is finally placed on your head. I shall be with you until the end.”

He smiled at you again and clasped your hand as you walked through the towering trees.

You had left Lothlorien the day after with the Fellowship, having officially joined up. Lots had happened after that, including almost dying with most of Middle-Earth, but months later, all was finally well. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the ring in Mordor, the forces of Mordor had collapsed along with the Black Gate, and today was the coronation of King Elessar, also known as Aragorn. 

You watched, standing next to Gimli on the dais, as Gandalf lowered the crown onto Aragorn’s head.

“Now come the days of the King!” Gandalf declared before Aragorn turned to face his kingdom. Everyone cheered as he stood there, silencing quickly as he spoke. His words were wise and sincere, and you couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. As petals began to fall, he started singing, the words quickly fading as he turned to you. 

You walked down to meet him at the bottom of the steps, gown trailing behind you. Once you reached him, he grabbed your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist as he dipped you into a spectacular kiss. Unlike the one you had shared in Imladris, this was not a kiss of sadness. This was a kiss of hope, peace, and promise. As the cheers rose around you again you knew that everything you had hoped for had come true.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

[hood-ex]

Dick stares at the ceiling of his darkened bedroom for what feels like forever before the alarm on his phone starts going off. The Backstreet Boys song that Babs had set as his default alarm fills the room with a chorus of, “Everybody! Rock your body right! Backstreet's back alright!” 

He normally tries to shut the obnoxious song up as soon as it goes off, but, well, there isn’t really anything normal about Dick’s current situation, and he figures that letting the song play out for a little longer than usual might curb his feelings of homesickness.

It fades into background noise as he flings off the covers and rolls out of bed, wincing as his bare feet meet the chilled wood floor. He blindly turns in the direction of the Alexa device and—wait. It’s called Cora in this universe, not Alexa. 

Right. 

“Cora, turn on Dick’s bedroom lights,” he says to the small white device that’s sitting on the bedside table. Cora glows green to indicate that she heard the demand, and the lights flicker on immediately. 

Dick squints at the sudden brightness and stumbles his way into the bathroom for a piss and a quick shower. It takes him all of ten minutes to finish. After he dries his hair with a towel, he heads to the closet and surveys the small selection of clothes that are all in his size but aren’t actually his. That’s made obvious by the fact that all the shirts are neutral colored, many of the pants are ripped at the knees, and any form of outerwear consists mostly of hoodies. 

At 27-years-old, Dick can’t imagine himself wearing ripped jeans. He knows from what Alfred told him when he arrived here that this universe’s Dick is only 19. Still, even when Dick was that age, he’d been wearing outfits that were considered more fashionable. 

He figures the casual wear has something to do with the fact that this universe’s Alfred and Bruce are way more laid back in both manner and appearance than his own. Just yesterday, Bruce had been wandering around the kitchen in nothing but briefs and a t-shirt, something Dick's Alfred would definitely not have been pleased about.

He grins at the memory and surveys his options one last time before pulling on some light wash jeans and a beige colored Stussy shirt. He goes for a watch next—this Dick is apparently a watch guy because he’s got like six of them—and while he’s in the middle of fastening it to his wrist, he’s startled by Cora suddenly glowing green and emanating the sound of a bell ringing. 

Alfred’s pre-recorded voice then comes through the speaker and says, “Breakfast is ready. Please make your way downstairs before it gets cold.” 

Dick has to admit that out of all the things that are different about this alternate universe, having Alfred take full advantage of Cora’s abilities is one of the most amusing. Also, weirdly convenient. He’ll have to see about teaching Alfie how to use Alexa when he gets back home. 

The Backstreet Boys are finally silenced once Dick turns off the alarm. He shoves his phone in his pocket before following the heavenly scent of food towards the kitchen. 

The first thing he sees when he walks in is Bruce is sitting at the table with a tablet, no doubt reading this morning’s news. He’s already dressed in a black polo with the Wayne Enterprises crest embroidered on the breast. It’s tucked into a pair of gray trousers that are nicely tapered and draw attention to his suede penny loafers. Bruce’s hair is already neatly styled into place, and as Dick takes a seat across from him at the table, the smell of spicy cologne hits his nose. He can’t help but feel a little sad that the cologne isn’t the same as what his Bruce wears. 

Bruce sets the tablet to the side when Dick finally settles in his seat. His soft blue eyes roam over Dick’s face in a way that Dick’s come to be familiar with since landing in this universe. He figures it’s because he looks a little different than 19-year-old Dick and that Bruce is probably curious about what his boy will look like in eight years. Either that or he just misses his kid in the same way Dick misses his Bruce. 

“Morning, Dick,” Bruce greets with a smile, his tone rather chipper. 

Bruce’s upbeat attitude and smiles had thrown Dick off when he’d first arrived in this universe, not having seen his own Bruce act like that since it was just the two of them against the world. 

“Good morning, Master Dick,” Alfred greets while he gathers two plates from the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. He’s decked out in his white apron which looks pristine as always. 

“Morning,” Dick says. He reaches for the carton of milk in the middle of the table and carefully pours it into the glass that’s been preset next to his placemat. 

Alfred swoops in with the two plates and places one in front of Dick and the other in front of Bruce. Dick nearly curses in excitement when he sees what it is. 

“A full English breakfast, Alf? Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he says, and his stomach rumbles loudly as if telling him to shut up and just eat. “But I’m so glad you did.”

“Me too,” Bruce says, having already taken a bite out of a sausage. “Thanks, Alfred. This is great.”

Dick hums in agreement and quickly works on lathering his bread with some of the beans, meat, and eggs.

“Thank you, sirs. I figured Master Dick might like it, seeing as he mentioned it’s something my counterpart enjoys making.”

“You figured right,” Dick says after he finishes swallowing a mouthful. “Back home, I’d eat one of these plates so fast that Alfie would get all Shakespeare on me.” With a switch in accent and tone, Dick imitates Alfred and says, “‘He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his!’” 

Something like pride fills his chest when both Bruce and Alfred’s faces scrunch up in laughter. Bruce’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Alfred covers his mouth with his hand to hide his amusement. 

Dick’s just glad they have something like Shakespeare to relate to even though he knows that this universe's William Shakespeare only wrote half the number of plays that are in Dick’s universe. Not seeing the recognition on Bruce and Alfred’s faces when he had quoted Romeo and Juliet at them the other night had broken his heart if only because it’s quoted frequently in his family.

“Sounds like Alfred alright,” Bruce grins. 

“I’ll have to save that for when our Master Dick returns,” Alfred says, looking both fond and sad at the reminder of his missing boy. 

“He’ll get a kick out of it,” Bruce nods, looking equally as wistful. 

Dick shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the blatant display of affection for his counterpart. He can’t help but wonder if he’s being missed just as strongly back home. If he is, he’s sure it’s not being expressed as openly as this. Well, he likes to think that Babs, Tim, and Damian might have something to say about it in their own ways. 

Alfred clears his throat to dispel the sudden quiet that falls over them. “Excuse me, sirs. I’ll be eating my own breakfast in the other room.”

“Going to catch up on watching You Just Got Served?” Bruce asks knowingly. 

“What’s that?” Dick asks.

“A morning gossip show in the UK,” Bruce says, taking a sip of his coffee to no doubt hide his smirk from Alfred’s piercing gaze. 

“Gossip,” Alfred practically scoffs as if offended by the idea that he could ever find such a thing enjoyable. He grabs his plate and cup of tea from the counter, and before he leaves the kitchen, Dick hears him mutter, “If I wanted to be entertained by gossip of all things then I would spend my days reading tabloids with your face plastered across them, Master Bruce.” 

“Ohhh, burn!” Dick cackles while mentally high fiving Alfred and his quick tongue. 

Bruce cocks an eyebrow. “Burn?”

Right. Universe differences. 

“Where I’m from it’s something you say when someone else gets mocked or teased but, like, in a playful way.”

“Oh,” Bruce says quietly, eyes raised to the ceiling like he’s thinking. “I don’t know if we have a word like that here. I’ll have to ask Dick when he’s back.”

Dick hums in acknowledgment and falls quiet. His mind is a little occupied by all the food that’s still sitting in front of him, and he can tell that Bruce is the same way. Both of them are happy to sit in comfortable silence while they finish off the majority of their meals. 

It’s only when Dick is washing most of it down with his milk that Bruce suddenly asks, “You sleep okay, Chum?” 

Dick pauses at the question. Not because Bruce refers to him by the same nickname that his own Bruce calls him on occasion, but because the nickname is said with a soft look that Dick hasn’t seen on his own Bruce’s face in god knows when. He’s not sure what prompted the question, but he guesses he must look a bit rough for Bruce to bring it up. 

“Kind of,” Dick admits with a shrug. He places his glass back on the table and then continues to dig into the scraps on his plate. 

“Nightmares?” Bruce prods after chewing a mouthful of baked beans. His eyes are trained on Dick, and they’re unguarded in a way that his Bruce’s rarely are. It’s obvious he’s concerned, and Dick feels slightly touched that this Bruce who isn’t his dad is worried about him.   

Dick’s fringe flops in his face when he shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “My mind just wouldn’t shut up.”

Bruce hums. “Thinking about home?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighs. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Mostly just thinking about what I’m going to do if things go wrong in my universe and my Bruce isn’t able to implement the protocol.”

The protocol in this particular situation, as Dick had explained to Bruce the first night he showed up in this universe, involves a ten day wait period. He’s to standby and wait for his Bruce to get either Zatanna or Doctor Fate to open a dimensional portal to take Dick home. If they don’t come within the first ten days of Dick’s arrival, Dick is supposed to seek out the closest thing this universe has to a magic user. 

On one hand, Dick is lucky that he ended up in a universe that has a non-hostile Batman who’s willing to help him. On the other hand, he’s completely fucked in that this universe’s Zatanna is on a deep space mission and isn’t due to return for another month. The League is also apparently not on good terms with Doctor Fate here, and while it’s not out of the question that they can eventually get him to help, Dick’s been told that it will be extremely difficult. 

Dick knows that Bruce has already been looking into other options, desperate to get his own Dick Grayson back. For now, they’re mostly relying on Dick’s Bruce to make a successful swap. 

“We’ll figure it out, Chum,” Bruce says with a comforting smile. “Worst case scenario, we wait a month for my Zatanna to get back.”

Dick bites his lip. “And if she dies on the mission?” 

Bruce’s face shifts into a closed off expression that’s familiar to Dick but looks weirdly out of place on this Bruce's face. “Like I said… we’ll figure it out.” 

Dick's mouth twists into a frown at the answer that is, frankly, not good enough for him. The only thing that keeps him from pushing the issue further is that he can tell Bruce isn’t satisfied with his answer either. 

Dick decides to back off… for now.

[jaskicr]

reverse au BUT canon universe geralt and jaskier are sent to an alternate universe where their roles are reversed but they remember their canon lives

ft. bamf jaskier and blushy geralt

canon universe geralt and jaskier touch a weird artefact and they’re sent to an alternate universe where jaskier is a witcher and geralt is human

(this is established relationship)

so they grow up without memories of their past (???) selves but they get vague impressions/dreams that tell them something’s not right

they regain their full memories they’re 15/16 ish

jaskier is born first. he’s sent to kaer morhen and goes through the training and the trials to become a witcher (he gets extra mutations bc i said so, im a sucker for witcher!jaskier with white hair and cat eyes ok)

he remembers his life as a bard when he’s 16, not long before he sets out on the path

and he realises that geralt isn’t with him in kaer morhen - he’s in the cohort geralt would have been, he’s friends with eskel and all that, but geralt isn’t here

and jaskier thinks that whatever happened, geralt must be dead

it hurts, as he walks around kaer morhen, knowing that geralt should be there, knowing that, in another life, geralt had walked within the same walls

but jaskier still holds out hope, returning to kaer morhen every winter and hoping that someone like geralt would show up

but geralt never does, and on his travels, jaskier asks mages and researches to find a way to reverse whatever was done, but he can’t

after maybe 2 decades, jaskier gives up and properly mourns the witcher he had known, who doesn’t exist here

once, he tries picking up the lute, but it hurts too much. it reminds him of what he’s lost, reminds him that geralt isn’t here

he puts down the lute and picks up his swords. he doesn’t touch the lute after that

something like blaviken still happens but maybe in a different way bc it’s jaskier

a few decades after jaskier is born, geralt is born into a noble family

from a young age, he’s unnervingly good at sword fighting and combat, and he enjoys it, but something draws him to music

at first geralt isn’t very good at it, but there’s an inexplicable urge within him that tells him to continue, a quiet yearning for melody and music that makes him want to be good at it

so he goes to oxenfurt, and that’s when he remembers being a witcher once, remembers the path, remembers jaskier

and he searched desperately for jaskier. he scours the campus, asking professors and students, searching the faculty and alumni

but no one has heard of jaskier

and geralt knows that there’s no way that jaskier wouldn’t have gone to oxenfurt - the only reason jaskier isn’t here, isn’t in whatever universe this is, is because he’s dead

geralt vows to live in jaskier’s memory, and he takes up the lute

he misses jaskier’s singing, misses his songs. so he learns the lute, learns to sing, so that there’s always a part of jaskier with him

when geralt graduates from oxenfurt, he sets out on the road

in a fit of nostalgia, he travels to posada, something bittersweet and wistful rising within him

unbeknownst to geralt, jaskier is heading to posada as well, tracking a contract

they unknowingly end up in the same tavern

at this point, jaskier has learnt to tune out bards. it hurts too much to remember what he’ll never have, so he doesn’t register the bard that’s playing right now

geralt is playing when he spots a dark figure in the corner, black armour and swords marking him out as a witcher

it’s all too familiar, and a tentative hope blooms in geralt’s heart

maybe -

he makes his way over, heart hammering, and says the words etched deep into his memory

‘i love the way you just.. sit in the corner and brood’

and geralt’s heart is in his throat, hoping and hoping and hoping for the right response

and jaskier hears a familiar voice saying words he had said, a lifetime ago

jaskier raises his head and sees a familiar face, a face he knows as well as his own despite the different hair and eyes and stature, and his heart stutters

it can’t be. but it is. and jaskier just knows.

geralt almost cries when unnaturally bright blue eyes with slitted pupils rise to meet his, set in a familiar face marked by a long scar and framed by silver hair

‘i’m here to drink alone’

it’s this familiar exchange, repeated but reversed, that lets them know that the other remembers, that they’re here

and for the first time since they woke up in this different world, they feel complete

they bask in the moment, drinking each other in, because they’ve found each other, and even if they’re different, even if everything is different, they’re together

geralt slides into the seat opposite jaskier, and it’s so, so familiar, but so different

‘i thought you were dead,’ geralt whispers

jaskier smiles, a small and sad thing, but he reaches over and grabs geralt’s hand. their callouses are reversed, now. jaskier’s hands are rough from the grips of his swords, and geralt’s fingers are padded from years of playing the lute

‘me too,’ jaskier confesses softly. then his smile turns slightly more playful. ‘i didn’t think you’d have red hair and green eyes. you look good.’

then geralt ducks his head and blushes under his freckles (yes he has freckles it’s hella adorable ok) and jaskier is fascinated bc he’s never seen geralt blush

(and he!! has freckles!!!)

‘this suits you,’ geralt mumbles, still blushing. he peeks out from under his lashes and jaskier sort of melts. ‘the hair and the eyes, i mean.’

and, well. jaskier had been insecure about his mutations that mark him as something other, something inhuman, but hearing geralt’s acceptance of him...

jaskier squeezes geralt’s hand, still in awe that he’s here, he’s real. they’re here, together. ‘i missed you.’

geralt beams, and jaskier‘s heart warms at how easily geralt seems to smile now. ‘i missed you too.’

the elves happen pretty much the same way apart from the fact that geralt and jaskier expecting it

and when geralt follows jaskier, neither of them object to it

they try to find out what happened to them, but all they’ve figured out is that their lives have been reversed, and no one else seems to be affected

so they travel the continent together trying to find an explanation or a cure

they try to return to the place where they found the artefact, but they only find a patch of dirt

jaskier brings geralt to kaer morhen

they ask vesemir about their situation (and geralt aches at the fact that his old mentor doesn’t know him), but he has no idea

eskel and lambert look at geralt with no recognition, and it hurts

but they take to geralt easily, and in no time, it’s almost like they’re back in their own world

they find yen earlier than they do in canon. she’s hostile at first, not knowing why they’re seeking her out, but when she hears their story she’s intrigued and promises to try and find a cure

in the meantime they try to settle into the new lives and new dynamic

they both have two lifetimes in their heads, two whole lives that are theirs, that they’ve lived

of course, they’re not the same people, shaped by new experiences as well as old

geralt is more open, more affectionate, more vocal with his thoughts and feelings. he smiles more, and he’s less gruff with others, though he still isn’t completely comfortable in social interactions

jaskier is a bit quieter, a result of his witcher upbringing. he’s still mostly open about his emotions, and being around geralt makes him smile and chatter liked he used to, but there’s a hypervigilance in him borne out of his witcher training, something lethal and deadly

they learn about each other again, finding new things to love and explore

now, geralt is the one who plays in taverns, and jaskier is the one who takes contracts

geralt still retains the skills and memories of his training as a witcher. though he lacks the enhanced strength, he can still fight, and jaskier gets some lightweight swords for him

geralt helps out on contracts sometimes, when he’s confident that he won’t get hurt. jaskier is reluctant at first, but concedes that geralt should be able to hold his own against weaker monsters

that’s when geralt realises that witcher!jaskier is a huge bamf and also very buff (buff jaskier rights!!!) and geralt really shouldn’t like it as much as he does

jaskier also looks unfairly good in armour with his swords in his hands

and now he understands why jaskier used to be obsessed about his black eyes after taking a potion, because HNNNG

with geralt by his side, jaskier doesn’t mind playing the lute again. it doesn’t hurt like it used to, with geralt by his side once more

geralt lends jaskier his lute and jaskier plucks out tentative notes on the strings, before he launches into one of his songs

jaskier’s voice is rough and untrained, lacking the oxenfurt training he used to have as a bard, but it’s pleasant and sweet, and geralt joins in, their voices twining together in a lovely duet

jaskier doesn’t join geralt when he sings in taverns, fearful of how humans would react, but on the road, they sometimes sing together, and it’s unexpectedly nice

(maybe jaskier gets a glamour at some point, and the continent discovers that the famed bard geralt occasionally gains a partner)

as a witcher, geralt had been unable to lash out at the people who’d insulted him and attacked him

but now, he’s human, and watching jaskier’s shoulders slump as humans spit vitriol at him, well, geralt gets to be feral now

he’s far more dangerous than jaskier had been as a bard. sure, bard jaskier was feral, but he lacked the skills that geralt remembers from his time as a witcher

the humans don’t stand a chance against geralt, and jaskier is the one hauling geralt out of fights now, and many taverns witness a white-haired witcher dragging his redheaded bard out as he yanks him into a fierce kiss

they’re both very soft and very gone on one another. geralt is far more tactile now and jaskier does not mind. they cuddle a lot and jaskier is the big spoon

they’re both openly affectionate, there’s a lot of soft hand holding and hair braiding and casual touches and like. they’re just soft, ok?

jaskier makes it his mission to make geralt blush as much as possible, because it’s adorable

(he also discovers how far down that blush goes, and geralt gets to witness jaskier’s witcher strength and stamina)

they make it work. jaskier gets insecure sometimes, knowing that his features are unnatural and scarred and nothing like what he’d looked like as a bard

but geralt reassures him, telling him that he’s beautiful no matter what

sometimes, geralt hates his own human frailty, how weak he is without his enhanced strength and how easily he gets hurt

but jaskier shows him everything he loves about geralt’s human body, telling him how happy he is that geralt gets to live a life without the suffering of a witcher

and the longer they’re together and the more they get to know each other all over again, they become less sure whether they want a cure or not

geralt likes being a human bard. humans don’t hate him anymore, and he likes being a bard more than he thought he would

but he knows that jaskier is, by nature, someone who loves people. and watching jaskier be rejected by prejudiced humans makes geralt’s heart hurt, because jaskier loves people so fucking much, and now he’s hated by them

but jaskier doesn’t mind being a witcher either. he can help people now, even if they’re ungrateful. there’s a deep satisfaction as he slays monsters terrorising innocents, and like this, he also gets to protect geralt

(not that geralt needs protecting, but still, it’s nice. and geralt has realised that he quite likes jaskier swooping in to save him aka picking him up in his arms)

and jaskier sees how free and easy and open this geralt is, unburdened by decades of hatred and conflict, and he wants this for geralt, wants geralt to know the happiness of a human life without being hated by the very people he helps

both of them like the lives they lead now, and they don’t know if they want to go back. but their old life is the original world, and they still wonder if they should go back

idk how it ends - either they somehow find a cure and return to canon universe with a whole load of new experiences, or they never find a cure and they learn to live in this new world

or maybe they do find a cure and decide that they’ll stay in this world because they’ve learnt to accept and love each other even with the changes, and it’s their world now

there’s a fic for this now!

[astro-break]

I don’t see it being talked about here, so I get to ramble about Crazy:B and Honeycomb Summer so buckle in, its going to be a ride

Quick disclaimer. This is the first time I’m doing something like that and I am simply coming from this as a fan and not as a professional. Some of the things I say might be wrong. And thats okay, I invite you to DM/Ask me questions, correct me, and even have a discussion with me. I’m very willing to learn from things I’ve done wrong and I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this as well. The main purpose of this post will be to analyze Crazy:B’s growth through MVs with really low quality screenshots as my evidence/to make your reading experience more tolerable. I’ll also be speculating as to what might come going forward for the unit so if that interests you skip to the smiling Nikki screenshot near the end. So with that out of the way, have a smiling HiMERU and Nikki, get some water, and lets start.

So one thing ive always noticed with the previous Crazy:B MVs is the distance each member has with each other. This is most prevalent in Crazy Roulette, as the only real contact anyone has with each other is HiMERU and Rinne in that one “Bet. Omae wa dou da” part. In formation transitions, the space they give each other is pretty wide which in itself isn’t that big of a deal but it’s more common to have quick and snappy transitions with minimal spacing in a faster paced song such as Crazy Roulette. This especially holds true in the chorus but Crazy:B seems to be going for a more “Rile up the crowd” approach to both keep up their image as a party unit and allow their members more time to transition into the next formation

Even in shots where usually you’d expect the to be back to back with each other, they have a large gap between them as if there’s supposed to be a third member filling that space. (Note that Kohaku seems to be guilty of this the most. I think that this just speaks more to Kohaku’s impression of idols at this point in the story and the reason why he even entered the idol world in the first place.)

Even in the one scene of physical contact, HiMERU looks almost sad, wistful even, before putting on a stage smile. In HiMERU’s solo section, his face if very much melancholic and maybe even a little bit regretful. One can play it off as his lyrics have quite the somber tone as it is a lull to help increase the hype when the chorus comes around again, but wistful seems a bit odd when talking about having resolve and taking into account the general party like atmosphere of the song. Keep it in mind because it’s a reoccurring happenstance throughout these three MVs

The distance between the members is especially interesting as Crazy:B’s image is that of a wild and well, party like fun unit where the audience can just loose themselves in the adrenaline and hype. Their songs have a very rave kind of feel, the type that would get you on your feet and hopping around with your friends, so why would a unit like with such a party like vibe that keep there distance? Perhaps its because they are a newly formed unit so their approach of “Interact with the crowd” is better for them as it allows them to take more breaks, alleviate a lot of the pressure of dancing on stage, and it builds a loyal fanbase through constant fan interaction. Though it’s still very obvious from this one MV that Crazy:B is a unit made out of convenience and they’re not having any true fun while up on stage. Their smiles appear forced and it’s like they’re simply moving in accordance with the choreo. The only one who remotely looks like they’re having fun is Rinne, who lets himself go wild. We’ll see more of that in Be the Party Bee

Overall, Crazy Roulette sets up what Crazy:B is at the start of the main story. You can see that they are very individualistic and probably aren’t doing this for fun, simply out of obligation with the only exception being Rinnie. Despite being more polished and more technically impressive, they lack the unity that Alkaloid has. It’s a very good base for Crazy:B to grow from, and they definitely improve throughout the next two MVs

Okay now that we’re finally done with analyzing Crazy Roulette, have a picture of Kohaku smiling. Go drink your water and maybe stretch a bit before we move on 

Be the Party Bee starts off with a weird formation with very little symmetry but then again its Crazy:B, thats pretty on brand. It’s important to note here that the distance between everyone is noticeably lessened, there’s more physical contact between members, and the group seems all the more relaxed. The MV came out around the time the final main story chapter was released (If I’m wrong about this please correct me) so it’s around the end of Crazy:B’s unit arc. It makes sense for them to be pretty comfortable with each other at this point with all the shenanigans they went through.

Rinne especially goes off in this Live with very exaggerated motions. He’s all over the stage, kicking cheering and being very Rinne. You see some of this in Crazy Roulette but its in Be the Party Bee that his off the wall enthusiasm is on full display. He’s a beacon, drawing everyone’s attention to himself but he also passes off the baton to everyone else, giving each member the attention with his crazy antics. Its subtle but also really embarrassing on the recipients’ side, but its there none the less. It’s pretty interesting change from his more self-centered character that was showcased in the main story (Side note, I haven’t read the mains story. At all. If this is wrong please tell me). This side of him comes into play in Honeycomb Summer as well.

There’s still some tension in the group though with them still not feeling super at ease with each other. Distance is still present, and though it is much less than what it was in Crazy Roulette, you still have a sense that these members still aren’t all that comfortable with each other yet. You can see this in shots where the group is required to get into each other’s personal space. But at this point, they have a on stage dynamic that resembles a well thought out shuffle group that meshes well together.

Speaking of shuffle groups, it’s interesting to see how Nikki acts during Date Plan A to Z (The whole MV is interesting in of itself but I won’t speak too much about that. If anyone wants me to make a post on it tho i won’t be opposed) His movements in that MV suggest that he is very much used to someone invading his personal space in the middle of a Live coughcoughRinnecoughcough (Note how he leans back from Natsume as if he’s anticipating him to come closer) and thus acts pretty reserved from the other members of AtoZ. But you also get a very real and genuine smile from him which also implies that up till this point, idol work was an obligation and he didn’t find much joy in the people he worked with but with this new shuffle group, he’s found that being an idol can be genuinely fun. Perhaps its because he was working with Rinne this whole time, working with a whole new group of people, none of which are Rinne, is a new experience for him and he finds himself genuinely enjoying being an idol. Seeing as AtoZ happens after the main story, I hope that we see how being in a shuffle group affects how Nikki interacts with his unitmates in the Heat Haze

One last thing to note about Be the Party Bee is actually HiMERU. His movements during both Crazy Roulette and Party Bee are noticeably more restrained than the other members. It’s more glaring in Party Bee as the unit works more as a team than as individuals. The most obvious section of this happening is during a tradition space where the team breaks off into two groups and fool around for a bit to get into position. Nikki and Kohaku pull this off spectacularly and their little pokes at each other seem fun, high energy, and playful. HiMERU on the other hand, focuses solely on getting into position, barely doing anything to Rinne’s attempts to provoke him into the same playful energy. There are other parts where we get an idea that HiMERU is holding himself back, but this is the most noticeable one. My speculation (hah) is that it also ties into why he looks so melancholic in Crazy Roulette, but we’ll never know what happens in canon until HappyEle gives us some lore crumbs

Overall, Be the Party Bee showcases how Crazy:B is slowly learning to work with each other and mesh together into a cohesive unit. They’re still far from perfect and each member still goes off and does things on their own but overall they have a very different feeling from Crazy Roulette

So we’re halfway done, I’m still surprised that you’re here still reading spontaneous ramblings of someone who looks way too closely into MVs. Good job, go stretch, maybe rest your eyes for a while, drink some water, eat something, do whatever you need to take a small break before continuing. Here’s a smiling Rinne as motivation to rest a bit before we move on.

Now we talk about Honeycomb Summer. Honestly its probably one of my favourite ones just because it shows how much Crazy:B has grown as a unit and as characters. From the get go, you can immediately tell how relaxed everyone looks with giant grins on their face and very energetic movements. You really get the idea that they’re having genuine fun being up on stage. And that to me is the best thing any idol can do, is have fun on stage. Because if your performance is brimming with love and fun, your audience knows it and it makes everyone so much happier. And thats my favourite part of being an idol, to make someone’s day just a little bit better, to make them smile. To everyone them that the world isn’t as awful as you think it is.

The first 25 seconds is just them having fun, and though there is still distance between them, its the type of distance that the performers make for each other so that they’re free to play around, not the type of distance that is made because you are unfamiliar with someone. Everyone participates in this play, when previously it was either very choreographed or it was Rinne being Rinne. How do I know it’s not choreographed and its Crazy:B genuienly having fun? Look at the way each member moves. Each move, though uniform, is injected with personality. Nikki is free flowing, energetic, powerful, and bouncy. HiMERU is calm, measured and precise. Kohaku is wild yet still contained, hitting his moves with calculated power. And Rinne is, well he’s his normal off the wall, noodly, playful self.

One thing that has been pointed out a lot by the IG community is Rinne and Nikki’s dynamic. In Party Bee, Nikki was caught up in Rinne’s pace and was dragged along for the ride looking very visibly uncomfortable and put off. Obviously Rinnie invading Nikki’s personal space wasn’t in the choreo and Nikki, being someone who as of the writing of this post doesn’t seem to have that much experience as an idol and with ad-libbing things on the fly, doesn’t really know how to deal with it other than grimace and hope for the best. Honeycomb Summer provides us with a delightfully amusing face as Nikki’s reaction to Rinne’s repeated attempt to throw him off his game. This, my dear readers, is what we call “The neutral face of displeasure”. Is the face of a man who has let his friend get himself into yet another stupid situation and he’s the going to have to apologize on the behalf of his friend. Again. Nikki shows a “Here we go again” type of expression throughout Rinne’s actions, which is quite interesting given that his reaction during Party Bee was nervousness and surprise. Considering that he and Rinne have worked together before the formation of Crazy:B, I have to wonder if Rinne’s antics are a recent development thus Nikki’s surprise as Rinne must have pulled off similar tricks before.

We can clearly see Nikki’s growth and maybe desensitization with his antics when Rinne tries to elicit another reaction out of Nikki. Here, he ends up smiling a cute exasperated smile and its a nice moment where Nikki has grown close enough with Rinne that he can guess when he is going to pull off his ridiculous stunts. The reaction very well may be staged though with how much time was given to highlight such a face, 

What comes next is yet another showcase as to how far Crazy:B has come to trust each other and enjoy each other’s company. Before, it was only Rinne causing chaos, mostly to Nikki, yet in this segment Kohaku and Rinne team up to lovingly bully HiMERU and its the best. Its. its everything I’ve ever wanted and more. I have a full gallery of the group’s antics right here (since I can’t embed every picture into this post, it would get way too long, but i adore this moment) but I can’t even begin to express how great this is when it comes to showcasing Crazy:B’s current dynamic. At this point, the unit is close enough to each other that they feel at ease to fool around on stage. These clearly aren’t staged as they seem to follow the choreo yet there’s aspects that seem very organic such as HiMERU’s small jab at Kohaku with his admittedly very cute smile and Rinne barging in on the two’s play. This is further backed up by how awkward HiMERU and Kohaku’s choreographed movements are, as if the performance barged into their moment. Even HiMERU and Rinne’s exchange is very reminiscent of Rinne’s antics during Party Bee though HiMERU handles these provocations in vastly different ways from Nikki. These small moments are organic, fun, and a small window into what the current dynamic between the unit is like.

The chorus certainly doesn’t disappoint either with so many good story telling beats. Throughout the chorus its very evident that Crazy:B is still a unit of individualists, though these individualists have learned to work together to create a performance that they alone as one person could never hope to create. They each get a chance to sing a small solo but their movements tell a different story, one that meshes very well with the whole. Instead of riling up the crowd like they did in Crazy Roulette, the unit instead uses their dance to entice the audience, sticking to the center of the stage and preforming as a collective, very rarely moving to the wings. That transition from individual to collective is such a satisfying change, and it speaks to how Crazy:B has developed trust with one another, knowing that the unit is there to cover if they ever make any mistakes.

Arguably, the best thing about this MV is the sheer number of genuine smiles that are on their faces. I have around 30 screenshots of just their smiles, a portion which can be found here, and the rest I’m willing to share if anyone just asks damn it. The amount of precious and pure smiles in this performance is staggering that my measly 30 screenshots is a simple fraction of how many beautiful smiles there are. For the first time, you get the feeling that they’re having fun up on stage. It really reminds me of Knights and their own growth and how they came together as a unit as well. In terms of growth, Crazy:B has gone through probably the most alongside Valkyrie and their progression from an individualistic and fragmented group made out of duty and convenience to a family is such a joy to watch 

Here’s the curious thing through. HiMERU still keeps his distance away from anyone. Even in the group shot, he isn’t as close with anyone as everyone and shies away from Rinne’s attempts at invading his personal space. Notice how HiMERU is right beside Rinne in the first screenshot, but quickly moves forward very quickly even through its clear that Rinne is attempting a hug. Even in the second screenshot, as they invade Kohaku’s space, HiMERU still keeps his distance, simply poking his head in to follow with the choreography while Rinne and Nikki bounce towards Kohaku. (Though this is can also be explained as HiMERU respecting personal space, something Crazy:B isn’t all to fond of doing in general) Nonetheless, its clear that he is enjoying himself, and his movements are much more energetic and expressive compared to the previous performances, he’s still more conservative when compared to the other members.

One final observation I had was how down to earth Rinne could be at times. At some points, he seems lost in thoughts, acting like HiMERU at times. These are very few, only appearing twice if I’m not wrong, but they are followed with Rinne “harassing” his unit mates. This leads me to believe that there is something on his mind and his heart isn’t fully in the performance. I have no idea as to the reason why this may be the case, but I hope it’s addressed in the coming event. I’ll talk about about my own hypothesizes in the next segment though

Finally, we’re finished with Honeycomb Summer. I thoroughly enjoyed the MV and it was absolutely brimming with so many details that make me so excited for the coming event. The growth showcased in this one performance is phenomenal and awe inspiring. I’m really impressed by the people who modeled and programmed the MV, it’s no easy feat to create such subtle expressions and dynamic movements.

Okay, so we’re in the final stretch here. I’d like all of you to take a moment to listen to your body and attend to anything you need to do. Maybe stretch a bit, drink some water, talk with someone, take a small break. Nikki is cheering you on as we enter the final segment.

Alright so this final section will be my thoughts on what’s going to happen in the future. The main topic on the table will be: So what I am hoping to see in the new event? bc let’s be real, HappyEle likes to throw us curveballs, we won’t actually know what happens in these events until the come out

My first and most selfish wish is for Shuffle Units to be addressed and how being in AtoZ affected Nikki. Looking at both Honeycomb Summer and Date Plan A to Z, Nikki is genuinely happy in both instances. I’d love to see how being in AtoZ made him realize that how he can help change his own unit into an environment that he can genuinely have fun with.

On that note, something that would be really cool would be Crazy:B teasing Kohaku over his partnership with Mikejimaman and being a part of Double Face at the same time with Crazy:B. I’d also like to know how throwing GFK off the stage flew with the rest of the idol world, but we’re most likely not getting that haha.... Actions have consequences guys, I just want to see those consequences come into play.

Something else I’d love to see is Hiiro and Rinne, how their new dynamic has impacted them and the people around them, and how they themselves interact with each other on a daily basis. I’d like to think that Rinne’s odd behavior in the MV is because he’s hit a snag with Hiiro, but we won’t know until the event actually comes out

Finally, can we please have more HiMERU lore. For all the guessing I’m like to do and digging I do in accordance to my own experiences, seeing things that I remember and speculate both becoming canon and getting jossed from hell to back is something i eagerly look forward to. Please HappyEle give us the HiMERU crumbs. They probably won’t though, considering that we recently got a HiMERU feature scout and some lore there :p

And with that, we have reached the end of a very long post. I don’t blame you if rn your expression is like Kohaku or HiMERU, it was very long for the both of us. I think I’ve said all that I wanted to, so any closing thoughts would just be reiterations of what was already said earlier. All I have to say is, Thank you for sticking through this long post, please ask me any questions you might have, and I hope y’all have a good day.

Thanks~

[shijiujun]

May I please request a fic where LY realises that he is in love with QCS but then agonizes, really agonizes, over it as QCS is a ladies man? I kinda just want LY to suffer a bit while realizing that he took QCS for granted before he gets his happy ending. LY did say he cherished QCS but I wish the series showed more QCS cherishing by him. Thank you and looking much forward to your green dragon gang LY fic!! *__*

sad, hungry, angry and lonely

Jealousy is an ugly thing, and Lu Yao knows he’s the furthest thing from Chusheng’s ideal type. He’s not a nice person, for one. He’s not mature at all and ends up getting into trouble more often than not. He rarely goes out of his way to make someone else happy without something in return.

Most importantly, he’s no woman, and Chusheng is a ladies man.

—

5

Unlike what he’s read in romance novels and heard from some of his friends, no fireworks go off when he realizes that he’s in love with Chusheng.

It’s not something to celebrate about, Lu Yao thinks, a heavy weight settling into his abdomen as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that he prefers Qiao Chusheng to any of the women he’s ever dated in the past few years. That he wants Chusheng more than he has ever wanted anyone else.

He wants Chusheng to have eyes only for him, to reserve all his affection and adoration for him.

Lu Yao watches as Chusheng leaves his car, looking all dapper in a fresh suit. A different outfit from when he was at the station earlier with Lu Yao, and he must’ve gone home to change before picking his date up.

A long, slender leg is revealed from the other side of the car, and as Chusheng helps the woman — his date for the night — out like the gentleman is he is, he doesn’t notice Lu Yao standing there at the entrance to Bai Le Men.

It’s only when the couple turns around, ready to head inside the club that Chusheng’s eyes land on him, and surprise floods him.

“San Tu, what are you doing here?” Chusheng asks. “Did something happen? There isn’t a case, is there?”

I wanted to see you, Lu Yao thinks.

Lu Yao can’t really explain why he’s here either. Realizing that he is in love with Chusheng, the first thing he did was to find him, to take a look at the man he loves. His eyes rove over the features on that lovely, handsome face. From Chusheng’s brows, to his eyes, his nose, his lips, his neck… all the way to his toes.

A man that Lu Yao cannot help but love, and cannot have.

“Nothing much,” Lu Yao says, trying to sound nonchalant even as the pain in his chest burns on. “You’ve never brought me here to have fun even once, just felt like coming over.”

“I-“ Chusheng blinks, then looking between him and his date, he seems a little conflicted, put on the spot. “If you wanted me to bring you, I’ll bring you next time-“

“It’s alright,” the woman hanging on Chusheng’s arm says with a lovely smile, and Lu Yao feels the urge to snatch Chusheng over from her, “Qiao-ge, I’ll get us a table for three and wait for you inside.”

Then charmingly, she turns to Lu Yao and goes, “Detective Lu, I’ve heard a lot about you from Qiao-ge. It’s nice to have you join us today.”

Before Chusheng or Lu Yao can reply, she saunters into the club.

Chusheng sighs, but now that it’s just him and Lu Yao, it’s easier for him to talk.

Stepping forward until he’s right in front of Lu Yao, he says, “Look at how understanding she is. You, on the other hand… I did tell you I had a date tonight, didn’t I?”

And yet, because it’s Lu Yao, because he’s used to Lu Yao being ridiculous and childish, Chusheng’s voice softens as he asks, “Have you eaten dinner? Bai Le Men has excellent snacks on Thursdays-“

Look at how understanding she is.

“I forgot,” Lu Yao interrupts Chusheng, straightening his back. “I’m going home.”

He moves past Chusheng without another look, biting at his lips. Lu Yao is feeling all hot over and a little nauseous, but he doesn’t want to be here for a moment longer. Ignoring Chusheng’s call, Lu Yao walks in the direction of his home quickly, his mind focused on putting one foot after the other, the gravel on the road crunching loudly under his shoes.

Look at how understanding she is.

Of course, Lu Yao laughs, the sound hollow and wistful.

He’s not the least bit understanding.

It hurts like a jagged knife carving away at his flesh bit by bit, knowing that Chusheng is nice to him not because Lu Yao is special to him, but because he needs Lu Yao around to help him solve cases and along the way, he got used to Lu Yao being demanding and unreasonable.

Jealousy is an ugly thing, and Lu Yao knows he’s the furthest thing from Chusheng’s ideal type. He’s not a nice person, for one. He’s not mature at all and ends up getting into trouble more often than not. He rarely goes out of his way to make someone else happy without something in return.

Most importantly, he’s no woman, and Chusheng is a ladies man.

===

4

Lu Yao likes it when Chusheng’s hands are on his skin — wiping at his mouth, grabbing at this wrist, pulling him in around his shoulders — and it’s something that Chusheng continues to do without much thought. If Lu Yao enjoys the attention more than he should, no one is any the wiser.

He should have known that he is anything but special to Chusheng.

Chusheng brings him to Bai Le Men for a night out as promised a few weeks later, and as much as he resents having to spend the next few hours watching Chusheng flirt with other women, it’s more time he has with Chusheng and he’s all the more greedy for it.

Almost fifteen minutes in, Lu Yao is pissed off enough to regret it.

Right in front of him, three women surround Chusheng on both sides, all speaking in sickeningly sweet tones. Lu Yao’s mood darkens for the rest of the night, but he keeps quiet. After all, the food here is good as promised, and as much as he felt the momentary loss of his appetite, Lu Yao reasons that there is no need for him to punish his stomach too. So he buries his head in the dishes and finishes it all.

Halfway through, when Lu Yao looks up, the first thing he sees is Chusheng’s arm is around Mei Xiang’s shoulders, drawing her into his embrace.

The sight makes his blood boil, and if Lu Yao sits here for any longer, he’s afraid he’s going to cause a scene.

“I’m done,” he says, wiping at his own mouth with the napkin on the table and getting to his feet almost petulantly.

“… San Tu?” asks Chusheng, bewildered. “What-“

It’s hardly the gracious thing to do, Lu Yao knows, but he still turns on his heel and leaves the private room Chusheng reserved. He doesn’t stop even after Chusheng calls out for him one more time.

Lu Yao doesn’t know how if he’s disappointed or relieved that Chusheng doesn’t chase after him.

===

3

He doesn’t even make it into the room this time. Chusheng headed straight to Chang San Tang earlier to meet Yao Qin, who may have some leads on the new case they’re on at present. He sent Ah Dou to pick Lu Yao up in the morning and by the time he turns up, he hears soft, melodious laughter coming from the room both of them are in, the door open wide.

Lu Yao pauses in his footsteps before he reaches the door. From where he’s standing, he can see Yao Qin in a fitting, gorgeous green cheongsam, her long hair coiffed to perfection and her makeup accentuating the loveliest features on her face. Out of all the women that Chusheng knows, Lu Yao has to say he actually likes Yao Qin to some degree.

The last time they were here, Lu Yao remembers wolfing down some pastries, the same ones that are sitting on the table in the room right now. Chusheng’s thumb was gentle then, brushing away the crumbs stuck to the side of his mouth.

Today, it seems Yao Qin has that honour instead.

His breath catches in his throat, his eyes wide as he watches Chusheng’s hand reach for Yao Qin’s beautiful face. He forces himself to keep his eyes open as Chusheng’s movements mirror what he did for Lu Yao that afternoon.

She’s like my sister, he said then.

He wonders if he’s like a brother to Chusheng in this case.

It’s Yao Qin who realizes he’s standing frozen outside the door, and the warmth that surfaces on her features eases the tightness in his chest slightly. Lu Yao wants to run, but they have a case to solve.

“I’m hungry,” Lu Yao says instead, schooling his expression and walking in.

“What do you want to eat?” asks Yao Qin, her eyes brightening. “Lu Yao, didn’t you like those dumplings I made the other time? I’ll get the kitchens to send a set up.”

Before Lu Yao can say anything, she’s on her feet and out the door.

“You’re such a glutton,” Chusheng sighs, exasperation obvious as he pats at the seat next to him. “You didn’t even say hello.”

Before his epiphany, Lu Yao might have found Chusheng’s comment fond, but all he hears now is rebuke and disapproval. He picks up the last pastry sitting on the plate in front of him.

It tastes like ashes on his tongue.

===

2

Who was the one who said he would be my wallet, seethes Lu Yao.

His anger simmers like the pot of stew sitting on the stove before him as he tries to tune out what Youning and her new friend, the latest addition to the tabloids that Youning works at are chattering on about. Seated opposite them at the dining table waiting for dinner to be done is Chusheng, who is listening to both women intently, unaware of Lu Yao’s change in mood.

“… Chusheng-ge, I saw this camera at the store on Fu Lu street last week, but… it’s really expensive,” Youning whines. “Chusheng-ge, can you…”

In the span of half an hour, Youning has managed to coax a promise out of Chusheng to buy her an imported dress, and also to bring Youning and her friend out to one of the classy restaurants near Bai Le Men. Xiao Xu came to Shanghai all on her own, leaving her parents behind in Nanjing to better provide for them, and Chusheng-ge, let’s welcome her to the city, what do you say?

Lu Yao looks up, turning around for a peek when he hears the sound of a loud thud. There lying on the table between Chusheng and the two women is his leather wallet.

“Just take my wallet and go, I don’t want to hear any more about this,” sighs Chusheng. “You’re no longer a kid, Youning.”

“Aiya, Ge I know you dote on me the most! Even more than my silly father-“

“Youning, you’re so lucky to have such a doting brother,” Xiao Xu exclaims.

“If you need anything,” Chusheng adds kindly, speaking to Xiao Xu, “Feel free to look me up at the station. It’s tough being in Shanghai alone, without friends and family.”

You’re not that special, Lu Yao bites at his lips as he quickly returns his attention to the pot.

Chusheng has so much money and he never promised that he would be Lu Yao’s exclusive source of money. He has no right to be jealous, he knows that. Furthermore, this is Bai Youning! It’s his sister, and is Lu Yao going to go green with envy over Chusheng’s annoying sister?

Even so, miserable thoughts swirl in his head — Chusheng declared that he would be his wallet, but he refused to pay for Lu Yao’s baguettes a few times too. When Lu Yao asked for Chusheng’s money to buy that claypot over from the kitchen help a few cases ago, the inspector’s unamused glare almost made Lu Yao back down, despite eventually handing over his wallet.

It was simply a few pieces of bread and a pot then, and here Chusheng is at present, easily giving up his actual wallet to Youning to buy a dress and a camera at exorbitant prices.

It’s not that Lu Yao is greedy for the money itself, he has to admit. More than that, he yearns for the attention Chusheng seems to give him, that fond roll of his eyes, that wide, doting smile, whenever he ends up paying for Lu Yao’s meal or shopping. He wants it all to himself.

What if… what if Chusheng stops treating him to things altogether?

Chusheng peels the hard-boiled eggs Lu Yao made during the dinner a little later. He drops one in Lu Yao’s bowl first and Lu Yao should be happy about that, but he can’t find it in himself to be truly delighted when Chusheng drops the second and third eggs into Youning and Xiao Xu’s bowls too.

For the first time in a long while, Lu Yao finds his appetite entirely absent during a meal.

===

1

“She’s someone I might have considered marrying,” says Chusheng wistfully on a Wednesday evening.

They both watch as one of the suspects in the case, now cleared of all charges, walks away, and if Lu Yao wasn’t so in love with Chusheng, he might find himself agreeing to that.

It feels like Tong Li all over again. Seeing Chusheng’s dreamy smiles and that faraway look whenever he thought of the woman, sitting there quietly as support when she turned out to be a murderer and tear drops trickled down Chusheng’s cheek in a rare show of vulnerability, being with him as both their hearts broke for different reasons.

And here this womanizer is all over again, falling in love with another mysterious, intriguing and intelligent woman.

Qiao Chusheng has a type, and Lu Yao is once again reminded of how impossible it is to have his feelings returned.

Lu Yao wants to try. Right this moment, he wants to tell Chusheng just how much he feels, how much he thinks about Chusheng all the time.

How he wants to spend the rest of his life with him.

He knows it’s a lost cause, however. This was a battle lost even before Lu Yao had a chance to fight it and he knew it all along, through every instance of burning jealousy, his eyes green with envy as they tried to devour a man who would never be his.

Chusheng saying this is the last nail on the coffin. As much as Lu Yao wants to ignore the jagged knife digging into his heart, he knows he has no way to tie Chusheng to him.

“Mnn,” he responds, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “You could, if you wanted to.”

“… San Tu-“

“Inspector!” Salim marches into the interrogation cell, saluting Chusheng firmly. “The Commissioner is here in your office looking to speak with you.”

Chusheng’s eyes snap to Lu Yao, and then for some reason, he’s frowning as he grabs onto Lu Yao’s hand. He says, “San Tu, wait for me. I’ll be done in a bit, I have something to say, okay?”

What else is there to talk about?

He doesn’t reply or look at Chusheng, and in the end the man lets him go.

It’s an escape for Lu Yao and he takes it, walking away without another word.

===

0He knows he’s being petulant, but Lu Yao doesn’t have the slightest bit of energy to move. All Lu Yao feels is exhaustion and grief, his limbs leaden with weight as he hides under the covers on his bed. How long has it been? Two days, or three?

Not even Youning has dared to come and disturb him these few days. As much as they don’t get along, Youning can sometimes be terribly attuned to his moods when they’re at extremes. She tried coaxing him out once the first day, and when Lu Yao continued to lie in his bed unmoving, his head covered by the blanket, she left him to it.

He’ll be better once there’s a case. Before that, he’s entitled to a dramatic, ridiculous bout of self-pity as he wallows in utter misery.

Chusheng said he wanted to talk to him, but Lu Yao doesn’t want to hear any of it. He doesn’t want to listen to Chusheng drawing lines and distancing himself away from Lu Yao deliberately because he knows how Lu Yao feels about him. He has to know.

So wrapped up he is in his thoughts that he misses the sound of soft footsteps approaching, and it’s not until the bed dips that Lu Yao realizes there’s someone here in the room with him.

Judging from the lack of noise, it’s probably not Youning.

“You didn’t listen to me finish,” Chusheng’s low voice sounds.

“I wanted to say that she’s someone I might have considered marrying,” he continues with a soft sigh when there’s no response from Lu Yao still. “Before I fell in love with you, stupid.”

At that, Lu Yao finally sits up, the blankets falling from him. Before he can even accuse Chusheng of being a bastard and lying to him right now, the inspector snags Lu Yao’s arm with a firm hand, and Lu Yao almost yelps as he falls right against Chusheng.

He’s too stunned to say anything else.

“I’m sorry it took me a while to notice,” Chusheng murmurs in his ear, his arms tightening around Lu Yao, as if scared that he might run away again. “You must’ve waited for me for quite a while, huh?”

Lu Yao swallows with difficulty, torn between pushing Chusheng away and staying right here where he wants to be.

“You like… women,” he stammers.

“I do,” Chusheng agrees. “But I love you. I don’t care about anyone else.”

“Well I couldn’t tell at all-“

“I haven’t been to Chang San Tang and Bai Le Men in months,” Chusheng interrupts, pressing a kiss behind Lu Yao’s ear and as expected, the action makes Lu Yao weak as he melts entirely against Chusheng now. “I know you don’t like it when I get too close to others. And… I’ll leave my wallet for Youning, but you can have everything else I own.”

After months, months of having to quietly deal with his feelings for Chusheng, this seems too good to be true.

Lu Yao can’t bring himself to pull away, even if this turns out to be a lie.

Gosh, he would give anything for this to not be a lie.

“Why did it take you so long, you bastard,” he chides instead, one hand hitting at Chusheng’s back. “Do you know how long I waited-“

“I know,” Chusheng replies, sounding helpless. “I’m sorry I hurt you. And… thank you for waiting for me. I wanted to tell you for a long time now, but I couldn’t quite figure out where to begin.”

His thumbs carry away the tears on Lu Yao’s face, and his heart breaks at the dark eye circles under those bright eyes.

Chusheng leans forward and kisses Lu Yao sweetly.

When he pulls away later, Lu Yao is smiling a little, and Chusheng finds his own lips curving upwards in answer to that.

“I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, Lu Yao,” he promises, pressing their foreheads together.

“Everything?”

“Everything,” Chusheng agrees with a laugh.

===

There’s a lot Chusheng has to make up for, but here is where he wants to start.

***

[artificialqueens]

What's Her Name? (Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: I’m working really hard on a fairy au right now (go to @goodemornting for updates on that lmao) but in the meantime I wanted to do something different! I hope you all enjoy it :)

Your soulmates name shows up on your arm when you turn 15. Gigi’s only problem is that her’s is in French, and she doesn’t speak a word of it.

Soulmates are a pretty common thing. Realistically they shouldn’t be; even with someone’s name written on your arm, what are the odds you’re going to find them in a sea of seven and a half billion people? Not only is it unlikely, it’s improbable. What if you have a name on your arm like John Smith? How many John Smiths do you have to go through before you can find the “one and only”? Soulmates were romanticized, and frankly unnecessary in Gigi’s humble opinion. She wouldn’t have had the slightest interest in finally finding her own but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t at least have some idea of who their soulmate is. There are a lot of tells, like what language the name is written in, what gender the name is usually assigned to, stuff like that. Probably the biggest reason why so many people in the world have managed to find their soulmates is because they care so much about it. Apparently there’s also like, a gut feeling you get, when you meet them. Like you know for a fact that they’re the one and only. She’d never experienced it herself, but according to the people in her life who had met their soulmates before, there’s just some kind of pull, like on an instinctual level. This subconscious feeling you have that they’re the right person for you. And when the names match up - well, there’s really no way to deny it, at that point.

It’s kind of a sweet notion, in a way. To know someone all your life by a set of letters and then when you finally get to meet them, that they’re the right person, and they’ve been thinking of you too. Gigi was independent sure, career driven and logical, but she would’ve been lying if she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what her soulmate might look like, what perfume they might use, what their favorite band might be. It was drilled into her since she was younger, in her defense, but that yearning feeling that encased every bone in her body whenever she accidentally glanced down at the cursive words delicately engraved on her arm made her wish that she could just find them already, so she could focus on more important things than the love of her life.

The only problem was, that the name imprinted neatly on her arm just happened to not be written in English, but some terrible variation of French.

Truth be told, she’d started studying French ever since google translate had helpfully informed her that’s what language the name was written in. She knows it starts with N, probably ends in L or Y, but her soulmates parents must’ve decided to give their child the most unique spelt name on the planet because the letters every French person had told her that the name possessed didn’t form anything that has much of a ring to it. She really hoped it was a girl’s name, because, well, it would be pretty inconvenient for her if her soulmate was a guy (Considering that she’s, like, a lesbian, and all). But other than that there were absolutely no indicators as to what it could say.

It used to bother her a lot more when she was younger. Being seventeen and knowing absolutely no characteristics of your soulmate is both pretty rare and pretty sad, but it’d never been her primary concern. She had other things to fill her life with, like good friends and family, school, art, overpriced coffee. It was frustrating that she couldn’t read it, but also extremely easy to distract herself from. Besides, having no way of knowing what the her soulmates name was gave her plenty of time and energy to spend helping her friends with their soulmate problems, and there’s plenty of those to go around.

Gigi stirred her tea, poking her tongue out slightly from between her lips. She hated that all the tapioca pearls end up sinking to the bottom, she didn’t want to put the straw in only halfway and get a mouthful of tea, but at the same time she didn’t want to drink all the boba all at once because it’s all pooled at the bottom. There were probably more important things that she could be focusing on right now, but this was a major pet peeve of hers. She cares a whole lot about how her bubble tea is consumed! The tapioca should be dispersed evenly throughout the drink, anything else is a disgrace.

Jan looked between her own two multicolored drinks, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. She was probably trying to decide which one to drink first, but it’s still pretty funny to watch. After Gigi had given up on fiddling around with the tapioca pearls, she sipped her tea and laced her fingers together, leaning forward to look at the blonde closer.

“You could try drinking the one they gave you for free.” She remarked, Jan’s golden brown eyes sliding up to meet hers with a sheepish smile. They’d been best friends since grade school but she still got way too easily embarrassed when Gigi gave her advice, it was pretty stupid. “Since you like the other one more, right?”

“I mean,” Jan pouted again, cocking her head like an upset puppy. “I like taro and lychee evenly, I just wanted lychee this time.”

“Hmm.” Gigi hummed, chewing her lip. “I’m trying to decide if you’re an immediate satisfaction kinda girl or the kind to bide your time. Or you could alternate between the two. Get a good mix of the one you’re in the mood for and the one you’re not in the mood for to keep you going.”

“That’s pretty gross, Gigi.” The older pointed out, wearing a wry smile. “It’s weird that I even have two to begin with.”

“Business as usual for you,” she chided, taking another sip of her single strawberry flavoured tea. Jan was lucky, generally. Gigi didn’t mean that in a jealous way, it was just true, and a little unnerving, at times. The fact that whoever ordered the taro bubble tea had completely took off, prompting the worker to offer it to the blonde, wasn’t even surprising to her at this point. Jan was even lucky in the soulmate department, kinda. The name on her arm was Jacquline Cox, pretty basic, and apparently they’d already met - though Jan hadn’t given her a lot of information about the mystery woman other than something about long dark hair and Persian food.

“It makes me feel awkward,” Jan complained with a sigh. “Who comes to a cafe and orders two boba teas?

“People who are really thirsty, probably.”

“I guess you’re right,” She conceded, but she still looked apprehensive, so Gigi reached across the table and grabbed the taro drink to take a long sip of it. She wasn’t the biggest fan of taro (It’s hard to describe, it’s too earthy for her taste?) but the eyebrow raise from the older woman was funny, so it was worth the slightly unpleasant flavour. “Gigi?”

The brunette glanced up from the tea, watching as Jan’s lip curled up harshly, thinking about her next choice of words. “You said wanted to catch up today?” She asked after a moment, and Gigi buffered briefly before nodding.

“Yeah. It’s so weird not going to the same school.” Gigi smiled sadly, drawing a smiley face in the condensation of her cup, “I’m not used to not seeing you every day, but you said the new school is better, right?”

“It’s not much different than the one we went to last year,” Jan shrugged, “But it’s a good school. It’s nice going somewhere where people don’t all remember me from primary.” She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s how I met Jackie, so I can’t be too mad about it.”

Gigi can’t help being a little bit more attentive after she hears the name, but she’s not very expressive at the best of times, so there probably wasn’t much more than a slight shift in her expression. The shorter woman was pretty good at picking up on that stuff, though, so she wasn’t surprised at the knowing smirk smiling back it her. “You know, you could just ask if you want me to tell you about her.”

Gigi winked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head against her hands. “Tell me then, what’s Miss Jacqueline like?”

“She’s from Iran, transfer student, stupidly funny, super smart, tall,” Jan sounded wistful, smiling serenely. The expression was generally deceiving, but thankfully Gigi had a pretty good idea of how to read her, too. It comes with being best friends for so long. She chewed her boba, waving a hand to encourage the blonde to continue. “I’ve been so happy lately, she really completes me. I don’t think she likes me much yet though.”

Gigi swallowed, narrowing her eyes. “Hmmm, maybe she’s just nervous. Does she have eyes? You’re pretty attractive.” She hesitated, “Probably.”

“Thank you,” Jan giggled, “But that’s not really what I meant.” She sighed, swirling her tea with her straw. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” She hinted, rather than say that she’d been waiting on this tea since Jan had first mentioned meeting her soulmate, and that she’d been starved of this kind of thing in her own life so she was more than happy to be hearing about it in her friends.

Gigi had never been good at any of that… romantic stuff, which people often found surprising given how confident she was normally. She didn’t read often, but on the rare occasion that she did, and she got to the romantic part of a book, she felt terribly flustered the whole time through. She had no composure. She’d just have no idea what to say, or what might be tactful to do in any situation. Sure, holding hands and cuddling sounded nice, but beyond that- things like communication, and physical gestures of affection, were intimidating. Not scary, necessarily, or unappealing (because wow Gigi loved to be kissed by g… girls…) but definitely intimidating. A large part of her was worried that when she eventually met her soulmate, she’d embarrass herself with a total lack of expertise in that area. Then again, the whole point of a soulmate is that they’re your one and only, so maybe they’d both be completely unequipped to handle what being a soulmate might entail. In general Gigi was most worried about identifying them, though. Who’s to say that they’d know English? Maybe they don’t know what the name - which was hopefully written nicely since her handwriting could be terrible at times - on their arm says either.

Jan groaned. “She’s so nice to me but she’ll never initiate it? Like if I compliment her she goes along with it otherwise it feels forced?”

Gigi scoffs, picking at her nails, the answer is fairly obvious. “It sounds like she’s doing that thing that people do in the movies.” She dipped her thumb in the puddle of water that’d formed on the table from the drips of condensation dripping off her drink. “What’s it called, playing hard to get?”

“Y’know, that does sound kinda accurate,” Jan smiled, which told Gigi that shes completely right. She’s glad for that, too, because she really just repeated platitudes. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You haven’t told me how you’ve been, recently.”

By the time they’d both finished their bubble teas (as well as the taro one in the middle of the table), they figured it’d be a good time to head home. Gigi begged the shorter woman to keep her posted on the Jackie situation, and Jan swore that she would with a roll of her eyes.

The brunette’s text came in while she was at the mall. When her phone vibrated, she stopped for a second to check the notification. It was Jan, of course, the paragraph of emojis next to her name lighting up Gigi’s lock screen.

The blonde has texted her a picture; she doesn’t recognize the subject of the photo, but she can only assume that it’s the Jackie Cox soulmate woman, or else there’d be no reason for the candid shot. She’s facing away from the camera, looking off into a cityscape, but her head is turned very slightly, and there’s a fond smile practically glowing off of her face. From what Gigi can see, her eyes are a deep wood brown, she’s freakishly tall and probably towers over Jan, and her hair is dark and curled slightly at the tips. She nods sagely, this woman and Jan would look like a cliche Pinterest board aesthetic together. The Persian woman is beaming, which probably means that the two getting along just fine- which is contrary to what Jan had told her so mayb-

Someone (or something? But she’s pretty sure it’s a someone because whatever it is is warm) collides into Gigi’s shoulder, and knocks not only her phone out of her hands, but also her feet out from under her. With an undignified sound, she watches the ground get closer to her, and then blinks in confusion when it suddenly stops roughly a foot away from her face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” it’s a woman’s voice, Gigi thinks, and vaguely accented, but her English sounds pretty okay. When she turns her head she is accutly aware of of pale blonde hair brushing against the woman’s shoulders, the sweet scent of honeysuckle perfume, a Lana Del Rey shirt tightly hugging her chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you alright? Mon dieu, your phone..”

Huh? Gigi followed her line of sight and noticed that her phone was on the floor some ways away. As soon as her eyes landed on it, the blonde woman kneels and lifts it up delicately, wiping it off with the silky red scarf she’s wearing. It’s at that moment that it occurs to her that she’s still being held up by the other girl, and when she’s pulled to her feet, she takes a step back and chews her thumbnail, blinking at the vision before her.

This girl is fairly tall, definitely has an inch or two on Gigi. Her hair is shiny, concealed by a stylish black beret, and her eyes are sharp and seemingly all knowing. She’s remarkably pretty, Gigi’s heart beginning to get that fluttery feeling she gets whenever she makes eye contact with an unfortunately attractive girl her age. She tries to calm it down, though, because she can’t imagine that going all ditzy-highschooler on this girl will help the interaction any. It’s awkward enough as it is.

“I’m fine,” She says quietly, before the blonde girl can begin to fret about her phone. “I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the walkway on my phone, so it’s my fault, probably.” Gigi wipes down the wrinkles in her shirt, watching relief cross over the girl’s features. She’s looks French, the brunette concedes. Like she stylishly sell you a baguette on the side of the street, and her accent further hints at it. She’s probably around Gigi’s age as well.

“I’m happy that you aren’t mad.” The girl smiles. “But it’s still my fault.” She clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “Could I make it up to you?” The way she asks it is curious, like she has some sort of other reason for asking, but Gigi holds her tongue. “I was going to this restaurant- pardon me, my name is Nicolette — are you free right now? – Not that you have to be, we could do it later – they make a really good stir-fry.”

For a pretty girl, Nicky stutters more than Gigi would’ve expected. It’s cute, charming almost, and the offer sounds great right about now. “That sounds fine.” She smiles, suddenly forgetting whatever she had come to the mall for because stir fry and French woman definitely sounded like her cup of tea.

“Perfect! I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” Nicolette - that’s a long name, maybe she could shorten it to Nicky - remarks thoughtfully, and Gigi realises that she’s a fool.

“Gigi.” She replies, and then adds, “Goode. My name is Gigi Goode.” Inwardly she scolds herself, that introduction could’ve been much smoother. For a minute she thinks she was so weird about it that Nicky has been thoroughly unsettled, but it crosses her mind after a bit of thought that the French woman’s comically widening eyes probably isn’t on account of her stuttering.

“Gigi Goode?” Echoes the girl. “Wait, uhm,” she shakes her head quickly, eyes frantically flicking between her arm and Gigi’s own, which is concealed by her coat sleeve. “Do you-” Nicky fumbled with her shirt, yanking it up with one hand. When Gigi looks down at the girl’s arm, she sees some incredibly familiar letters written, tiny hearts dotting every i. “Do you spell your name with-”

“Yeah. Yeah - yeah I do.“ The brunette interrupts, vision suddenly becoming blurry. She pulls up her own sleeve, feeling like she’s in some kind of a stupor, and holds out her forearm shakily to the taller woman. “Is this your name? I’ve never been able to read it.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“That is certainly my name,” Nicky replies, voice high pitched and frantic. “It’s spelt weird, you know, with the q and u and stuff but - merde that’s my name.”

Honestly, Gigi isn’t really capable of thinking clearly right now, but by the sounds of it she might’ve just found her soulma-

She gets knocked off her feet for second time within five minutes. This time, though, Nicky isn’t able to catch her, because though Nicky is again the reason she goes down, the blonde’s arms are occupied by being thrown tightly around Gigi’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad to meet you!” The woman bursts out, and the brunette’s face warms at the close proximity. “I came to America to look for you, did you know that? I suppose you wouldn’t, as we’ve never met before, but I- well- I’ve been searching for so long and some days I felt like I would never find you- that is a bit too much information for a first meeting, sorry, - and I’ve knocked you over again too, oh-”

“It’s okay,” Gigi dismisses quickly. “I don’t mind.” She doesn’t, though her face is definitely like a thousand degrees right now. Nicky beams at her, strands of angel blonde hair falling in front of her eyes, and Gigi swallows down a bit of flustered anxiety. Her heart is beating hard, she can hardly hear anything through it’s ringing in her ears, and Nicky can definitely feel it, but it’s not so embarrassing when she realises that the other girl’s heart is beating just as fast. At the same tempo, even, though it might be a bit presumptuous to say as much. She clears her throat a few times, trying to figure out something cool to say. “Uhm, well, how about that stir-fry then?”

Not quite, but close enough, because Nicky’s responding smile feels like a billion dollars.

[veatomis]

Arihs and Dorian have had a wonderful life with each other. However, they couldn’t live forever and now their son Felix has to take care of his father.

This is all told through Felix’s perspective who is 50 years old in this fic, which would put Arihs at a very handsome 78 more or less. 

Basically an excuse to write Arihs as an old man.

Cw: implied character death and coping with grief.

----------

When Felix opened the door the house was still quiet, as it often was nowadays. Long gone were the days when he would run up and down the sun lit halls, screaming while following babae's fast footsteps.

Sometimes he enjoys the silence and the calm, other times he can barely stand it.

One of the servants met him at the door, helping him with the food he had bought at the market.

"Lord Pavus, your father is resting in the study upstairs."

"Thank you, make sure everything is stored properly."

"Of course." 

Felix nodded at him in thanks and made his way to the stairs, reaching his father's study and opening the door.

Only to see his beloved father up from the recliner trying to grab something from the shelf. Felix made his way quickly and, as a testament to how bad his hearing had gotten, Arihs startled when Felix touched his elbow, not having noticed him before.

"Babae you shouldn't force yourself, if you wanted something you should've waited or called for someone."

Arihs waved his hand in dismissal "Bah! I may be an old man but I still have enough fight in me to take two bloody steps and grab a book."

Felix sighed, helping Arihs sit in the recliner again "I know Babae but you should still take it easy when you can…"

But Arihs wasn't paying attention anymore. He usually never did when it came to his own health, one would think that after having some elven magic artifact destroy his arm he would learn to listen when it came to take care of himself. Felix also would like to not have to worry as much for his father, having a heart attack from the stress at fifty would do him no good.

He decided to grab one of the chairs and sit next to Arihs, glancing at which book he had grabbed. It was in Tevene and the margins were filled to the brim with annotations.

Felix then glanced at his father, knowing exactly why he had gone through all the trouble of grabbing a book. 

The study was the room in the manor where Papa's presence was best kept intact. Even after five years Felix was still impressed by how untouched everything looked.

Papers with his furious notes in every surface imaginable, the stack of letters he and Babae had sent each other through the years, some of Felix's first drawings adorning the bookcases… Even the sending crystal was where he had last left it.

It truly was no wonder why Arihs spent most of his time here. Felix would have tried harder to make him get past Dorian's death but, as much as it made his throat close up and his eyes sting just a tiny bit, he knew his babae wasn't far behind now.

Arihs was staring intently at the things written in the book's pages with a small smile, tracing the swoops and curls of every letter with his fingers, making the wedding band he still wore on his right hand catch the light.

His hand was wrinkly and while it didn't tremble too much thanks to his training with a bow until it physically hurt him, there was still a light shakiness to it. 

His face was also wrinkly with age, the vallaslin had faded, his hair had thinned considerably, his eyes had turned a misty blue and yet… every time Felix saw him gazing at anything that was from Papa with that same wistful, but more sweet than bitter smile he was brought back to when he was only a child and how his father would look like after Papa had even so much as smiled at him.

Wide grins, quick laughter, warm embraces and fleeting kisses that he used to turn away from with the mocking disgust of any child until he was the one being attacked with affection.

Every day he is glad his fathers loved each other that much, that he was fortunate enough to live in a place where love was given freely.

However, some days, the past five years felt longer than the more than fifty before them.

His father has told him time and time again that he should be focusing on his own life, on the magisterium, on things that make him happy, not taking care of his old father but Felix can't help but feel like he needs to be there for him.

The closest friends his babae had are all already dead and he can't even make the trip to see his clan because of his health.

The only person who visits him who isn't his own son is some elf, who always comes when Felix is out. The man always speaks to his father in a very soft tone, looking sad, guilty, and he never stays for much longer after Felix comes back.

He's not sure if he should trust the man but his babae seems to enjoy or at least tolerate his company, comfortable enough to have the man's hand in his.

He must be making some kind of face because he's shaken out of his musings by the sound of his father's voice.

"I know you must think your old man a fool for grasping onto the fleeting things of a dead man," he says looking at him.

"Of course not, Babae, I-"

"It's just that every day I miss your father more and more. "

Felix grasped his hand and sighed deeply.

"I know Babae, I know..."

[heath-ur]

00Q Kinktober - Day 7

Prompt List ; Ao3  Pairing: Bond x Q  Prompt: Sixty-Nine  Warnings: Smut, No Beta

Me: I need to get faster at these. Only 100-300 words of lead-up & 500-600 words of smut. No more auxiliary characters. Go. 

Also Me: So let’s do nearly 700 words of unnecessary plot and make R lesbian.

Brain, why?   

The next afternoon, Q is still doing his best not to show his subordinates just how sore his ass is. He’s not sure how successful he’s been able to hide it from R or Moneypenny; going by their smug looks, not much, so he just eyes them smugly right back. ‘Yes, my arse is sore,’ he hopes his looks covey, ‘but it was so worth it.’ Going by their eye-rolls, he thinks they get it. 

Despite the distraction, he is able to complete 3 projects and assists 002 with breaching the security of her weapons-dealing mark. They gather enough intel that she’ll be returning to London in the next 48 hours. All-in-all, he thinks he deserves to be a little smug. 

So of course that’s when Bond walks into Q branch. Damn. Q knew he was forgetting something. 

He knows - he knows - that neither Bond or Alec consider these little liaisons as going steady. There has been no talk about exclusivity, they both still fuck during missions with or without honeypots. And that’s fine. Q isn’t one to be jealous - it’s a waste of productivity and energy. And he’s used to having multiple and infrequent partners. That’s what happens when you work with a governmental spy agency. 

However, he also knows that the two blonds are quite good friends. And also know how to kill with their thumbs. When he started this he didn't know that they would keep coming back for this long; he hadn’t realized that he would need to tell them about each other. Honestly, he’d thought that after the first successful mission each, the agents would lose interest. But of course they can’t even follow their own usual patterns. 

So this leaves Q standing at his platform station, hands planted on his sit-stand desk, as he faces a post-mission-high double-oh that wants a booty call while Q’s booty is off-the-table this time around. Q nods in Bond’s direction and cuts his eyes to the office-space he rarely uses since he prefers to stand among his subordinates. 

Bond nods back and wanders into the small, separated space. R gives Q a glance over her tablet as she swings by his desk with a new cup of tea. Q signs and takes a sip of the tea. His voice is as dry as the desert when he speaks up, “Alert security if I’m not back out in 5?”

R snorts and rolls her eyes, “And have them walk in to you being buggered? No thanks, boss. You’ve got about 30 minutes until that meeting with HR.” 

Oh, big buggering fuck. He forgot about that, too. Alec must have shorted out his brain last night. He hums and takes a bigger swing of his tea. “I suppose that’s another option.”

R sighs. Q isn’t sure how she makes it both exasperated and wistful. “If 002 ever fancies me back, you best be as understanding as I’m being right now.” 

Q nods, “If you find yourself a lady worthy of your brilliance, you can always borrow my office.” He turns and winks at her before making his way to the office. 

Inside, Bond is sitting on the futon that takes up a good third of the room while he looks at the lone Home Bargains art print on the opposing wall. He looks up and smirks as Q walks in and locks the door. “You know, not that I’m opposed to office sex, but I was planning on offering you dinner again.”

Q shrugs and crosses his arms, “I’ve 4 more hours, at least. No sense in you waiting. However, full disclosure, I’ve only 30 minutes and my arse isn’t an option at this time. I’m too sore.” 

Bond’s eyebrows slowly rise higher on his face as Q speaks, but his smile never waivers. “Oh? Well, I hope it was at least worth it. Anyone I know?” He waggles said eyebrows, gesturing with his hand for Q to step closer. 

Q steps until he’s only an arms reach away, humming. “Well, I have a type, you see. Something about blonds and muscles and men with licenses to kill.” He shrugs nonchalantly and loses the last of his nervous energy as Bond’s grin widens.

Bond lunges forward to wrap his palms gently at Q’s hips to drag him forward. “So, you’re Alec’s little kitten, hmm? He was singing your praises this morning.” 

Q slides one of his knees between Bond’s thighs to rest it on the futon’s edge, draping his arms loosely on Bond’s shoulders. “Do you two always gossip about your conquests?” 

Bond laughs and rubs his palms soothingly up Q’s back. “Only the good ones. And never enough to breach the virtues of their privacy. But, oh, the things we’re going to be talking about after this.” He suddenly reaches a hand up and grips Q’s curls in a tight grip, tugging him down enough for a kiss. 

Q can’t help his startled moan as he opens up his mouth for the kiss, letting Bond control the depth as he keeps gripping and twisting at the strands in his hand. When he’s let up, he knows his eyes must be dazed and he can feel the flush in his cheeks and down his neck. “So, no concerns, then?”

Bond confirms with another kiss, this one lasting only long enough to make Q whine as Bond pulls back and angles Q’s head to kiss down his jaw and throat to bite against the fabric of Q’s shirt. “30 minutes?” 

Q nods.

“Well, best make it worth it,” Bond winks and starks working on Q’s trouser buttons. Q gets with the program and begins to reciprocate, fighting with Bond’s buckle until it’s bested. 

Cocks freed, Bond pulls two condoms from his suit jacket pocket and rips one open to put onto his own cock. At the same time, he shifts and settles until he’s laying sideways on the futon, pants sliding off and down his legs. Q begins following him but gets stopped by a palm on his hip. “Turn around, Q, let me see Alec’s hard work.” 

Q blushes and his cock jumps as he fumbles putting the condom on. He lets his pants fall full to the ground, tripping out of his shoes to scramble onto the futon and swinging one leg to straddle Bond’s thighs, facing Bond’s feet. The man wears sock garters, the functional (non-functional) part of his brain thought as Bond’s previous words scrolled through the other half of his brain. 

Bond puts his hands back to Q’s hips and arranges the man as he sees fit, to get a better look. He hums and draws one finger around a still- tender mark of Alec’s index on the back of Q’s thigh. “Oh, these will be beautiful bruises. It really is too bad that he didn’t take pictures like he had wanted to.” 

Q’s traitorous cock jumps  again. He had to curl into himself and let his hands drop to either side of Bond’s knees. “20 minutes.” Q fails at trying to sound unaffected. 

Bond lets out an affected sad sigh. “We both best get to it, then.” And then in one motion he pulls Q’s hips closer to his head as he slides further down the futon to take Q’s cock in his mouth. It’s heat and the flutter of Bond’s tongue and the tapered rumble of his trapped laugh.

Q curses and takes a breath before he returns the favor and presses his mouth around Bond’s cock, sucking and working his tongue, trying to get his self-possession back by proving his skill. If Bond’s approving hum is any indication, he’s succeeding. Of course, that hum is accompanied by a controlled roll of Bond’s hip, making Q take more until Bond’s cock is being swallowed in the preservation of Q’s gag-reflex. 

Q sucks and rolls his own hips, smacking at Bond’s thigh in reprimand as the older man presses a thumb into one of Q’s forming bruises just to make him jump. He can’t help but squirm, even with his dick held in Bond’s mouth. The other hand gripping and fondling his bullocks doesn't help. Q would try working on Bond’s, but to be honest he needs both wobbling arms to hold himself up. 

Instead, he rises off until only Bond’s tip is still inside his mouth, takes a deep breath, and goes back down in three quick bobs, holding at the tip against just to repeat the pattern. The noises are slick and sound loud in the room. Q has a moment of concern about sound-proofing or lack thereof, but quickly forgets the concern as Bond does something with his tongue. Oh, maybe he could learn that.

The whole experience is a race to the finish-line and both parties cross nearly at the same time with matching thrusts and hot suction, faces messy and breathless. Q pulls back onto his knees and checks his watch. 

4 minutes. “Fuck.”

[elvish-sky]

Aragorn and Taniara [an elf] (That's what my sister calls herself. Lol.)

Hmmm... maybe Taniara is Elrond's youngest daughter and she sneaks away from Imladris to go with the Fellowship. She could meet up with them in The Golden Woods? Um... and Legolas explains to her that the pain she had felt was her fear of Elessar not returning to her...? And maybe a time skip to when Elessar gets crowned King of Gondor?

Is this what you mean by "ask"?

A.N: So this was an insert request and uses someone’s name but I’ll be posting a completely x reader version for everyone else. I hope this is what you wanted, and I’m wishing your sister a very happy birthday! I hope she likes it!

Requested by @ask-the-elf-stuff on Tumblr

Pairing: Aragorn x Character Insert (Taniara) {Not an OC! I’m also posting a full x reader version for everyone else!}

Word Count: 1,790

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, the smallest bit of angst.

****

Hope {Aragorn x Taniara}

“You’re really leaving?” You gazed into Aragorn’s eyes, hoping that it wasn’t true.

“I have to, Taniara. The fate of Middle-Earth depends on it.”

Your head dipped in understanding, but also sadness.

“Do not fear. I will return.” He cupped your chin with his hand, tilting your head and kissing you. It was a light kiss, nothing like the others you had shared before. This kiss was the hope that you’d see each other again.

Breaking away, you forced a smile as you hugged him, trying not to cry. Stepping back, you waved as he followed the rest of the newly formed Fellowship through the gates of Imladris. Your father stood next to you, and as Aragorn passed through the gates Elrond drew you into his side.

“He’ll be back, hína (child),” Elrond said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you rested your head on your father’s shoulder as you watched the man depart.

Weeks later, you were pacing your room, determined to do something. Arwen stopped short in the doorway as she saw you pack open on your bed as you shoved things inside.

“Taniara? What are you doing?”

“I do not know why, but I have felt a pull to follow. An ache, almost painful in its strength, has settled inside me and so I knew I must follow. We have not heard from the Fellowship in weeks, Aragorn could be hurt, or someone else could be, or he could be,” your voice broke, “dead.

The elf nodded in understanding. “The ache is telling you to be with the one you love.”

She then clasped your hand. “Taniara. Look at me.”

You looked at her, unshed tears of worry clear in your eyes.

“If he was dead, you’d feel it. And I know as your sister I should be telling you not to go, but I cannot help but notice the pain you’ve been in these last weeks. So go, find him.” She spread a map out onto a small table nearby, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you just carry that everywhere?”

She shot you a look, and you quickly clammed up, peering over her shoulder as she pointed things out.

“After crossing the mountains visit our grandmother in Lothlorien, the Fellowship had planned to pass through there, and she will know where they are.”

You took it all in, remembering the route to Lothlorien from visits to your grandparents you had made before your mother went west.

“Thank you, Arwen.” You smiled up at your sister.

She clasped your wrist before pulling away, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “Stay safe, Taniara.”

You nodded, shoving the last things into your pack before slinging it over your shoulders with your bow and quiver, daggers sheathed on your thighs, hugging your sister one last time before leaving your room.

You strode down the hallway, dressed in leather hunting clothes as you made your way to the gates of Imladris. You had stopped by the kitchens to gather food supplies, making sure they thought you were only going for a hunting excursion.

Entering the courtyard, you saw your father standing in the center, clearly waiting for you. Silently cursing Arwen, as you had hoped to slip away unnoticed, you made your way over to him.

“I should not let you do this.”

You frowned at his words, drawing breath to protest, but before you could Elrond spoke again.

“But you are free to go. I feel the ache and have felt it every day since your mother departed. I know that nothing but being with the one you love can ease that pain, and it would hurt me to know you are experiencing it. Go to Estel. I give you my blessing.”

You hugged your father before turning and mounting your horse, brought from the stables. Turning to wave to your father one last time, you leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go, Daeroc. Let’s go find Aragorn.” The horse broke into a trot, and you left Imladris behind.

Weeks later, you led Daeroc into Lothlorien, waiting for the sentries to appear. One dropped down from a tree, and you smiled at him, recognizing the face.

“Haldir,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Taniara. It is good to see you again. I assume you are here to see the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?”

You nodded, “Yes. I have not seen my grandparents in a long time. But before we go to them could you find someone to take care of Daeroc?”

Another elf came into view, nodding to you as she took the reins from your hands.

“Thank you,” you smiled at her.

Later, you walked into the courtyard, bowing to your grandparents standing on the stairs above.

“Taniara, my daughter’s daughter. What brings you here?” Galadriel smiled at you, descending the stairs with her husband to greet you, each clasping your wrist.

“To see you, of course, and seek news of the Fellowship that I assume has passed through here.”

Your grandmother smiled. “It seems you are in luck, for they are here as we speak.”

Your eyes widened. “But they should have been long gone by now. I wonder what has caused the delay?”

Celeborn’s face softened. “Then you do not know.”

“Know what?” You were beginning to grow quite worried. “What has happened?”

“They could not make it through the pass of Caradhras, so they turned and went through Moria, costing them the life of Mithrandir.”

You gasped, heart aching at the grief that must have caused them and the grief you now felt.

“May I see them?” All you wanted now was to see your friends and the man you loved.

“Of course.” Galadriel beckoned you to follow her, and you did, softly conversing with your grandmother and updating her on the lives of her family in Imladris, as well as others she knew.

Stepping into the clearing, you turned to thank Galadriel, watching her fade from view behind you for a moment before continuing.

There he was. Tall and handsome still, even grimy with dirt and dust from his travels. You debated casually walking up and greeting him more sedately, but watching him you just couldn’t hold back. All your elvish instincts left you, and you sprinted towards him, leaping into his shocked arms as kissing him for all you were worth. He kissed you back for a moment, and then pulled away, the surprise on his face clear.

“Taniara! What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

You smiled at him. “Of course I did, meleth.”

He smiled back at you, and drew you in for another kiss, hands holding you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. Deepening the kiss, he moved so your back was pressed against a tree and his hands were free to slide up your back, tangling in your hair as you lost yourselves in each other.

Sometime later, you sat with the rest of the Fellowship after the nighttime meal, talking. It was good to see them again, you had grown fond of all of them, even the dwarf, during their time in Imladris. But of course, the only person you really had eyes for that night was Aragorn, who sat next to you with an arm around your shoulders.

Legolas had seemed puzzled with how comfortable you were with affection, it was rather un elf-like. You had explained to him that because of your father’s past, he was slightly more affectionate than a normal elf, and showed it. You hadn’t missed the wistful look on Legolas’ face as you spoke and recalled what you knew of his family, feeling sorry for him.

Later that night, you sat by the dying embers of the fire alongside Legolas. Aragorn had gone with the hobbits to wash up, and Boromir and Gimli were sleeping, so it was just you and the elf.

“Legolas?” The older elf looked at you.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, and you continued, “I was just wondering, do you know of something like an ache? It began right after the Fellowship departed Imladris, and only subsided when I arrived here. What does it mean?”

He smiled. “Taniara. That was the bond between your soul and Aragorn’s, pulled taught with your fear of losing him. Now that you are reunited, it has gone because you are together. It is every elf’s greatest dream and worst fear to have that feeling.”

You smiled. “Have you?”

The pain in his eyes told you that maybe that was not something to be asked of others.

“I am not sure if it is in my destiny to ever feel that.” He gazed into the distance.

The two of you sat in easy silence for a long time, after that.

“Taniara.” You turned to see Aragorn beckoning to you, and with a nod to Legolas, you rose.

“You do not have to come with us. It will be a journey of great peril, and I do not want to put you in that much danger.”

You gazed at him earnestly, “Aragorn. I shall be there when the crown is finally placed on your head. I shall be with you until the end.”

He smiled at you again and clasped your hand as you walked through the towering trees.

You had left Lothlorien the day after with the Fellowship, having officially joined up. Lots had happened after that, including almost dying with most of Middle-Earth, but months later, all was finally well. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the ring in Mordor, the forces of Mordor had collapsed along with the Black Gate, and today was the coronation of King Elessar, also known as Aragorn.

You watched, standing next to Gimli on the dais, as Gandalf lowered the crown onto Aragorn’s head.

“Now come the days of the King!” Gandalf declared before Aragorn turned to face his kingdom. Everyone cheered as he stood there, silencing quickly as he spoke. His words were wise and sincere, and you couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. As petals began to fall, he started singing, the words quickly fading as he turned to you.

You walked down to meet him at the bottom of the steps, gown trailing behind you. Once you reached him, he grabbed your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist as he dipped you into a spectacular kiss. Unlike the one you had shared in Imladris, this was not a kiss of sadness. This was a kiss of hope, peace, and promise. As the cheers rose around you again you knew that everything you had hoped for had come true.

[swansandslayers]

Some fantastic Newtina fics I recommend.

Putting this under read-more since this is gonna be a pretty long list. Some of the fics listed on this post can also be found in previous posts here and here but I thought I would a bigger post for anyone interested. 

Obviously there are a lot of fics out there that I haven’t comes across, so anyone wants to add their own favorite fics/writers, or just to add their own work to this list, feel free to do so. :) And I may make more of these in the future if I have the time/energy.

Hope you guys enjoy reading these as much as I have. :)

Unplanned Beginnings written by cutenewt. Newt has locked himself in the case and hasn’t left for three and a half days. Tina is worried sick and calls his brother for help. Neither of them could have predicted what happens next though.

A Photograph of A Scamander written by cutenewt. Tina’s photographs decorate her and Newt’s new flat. As she gets used to living in England, Tina finds that the Scamander reputation is an odd one. It does not help when Theseus invites himself over for supper one evening.

What Thunderbirds Do written by gnimmish. Newt knows more about the mating rituals of most of his creatures than he does those of actual human beings - though that may not be such a bad thing.

Little Things written by littlemsbookworm. When people ask her “What is it like being married to a famous magizoologist?” she always takes a long time to answer.

Rewrite The Stars  written by cutenewt. In which Newt cares for Tina… although she is most certain that this isn’t necessary.

An American Auror, a British Magizoologist and A Parisian Sewer Monster written by gnimmish. Theseus helps a certain American auror deliver a strange beast to his brother, encounters the distinct and horrifying possibility that his brother has somehow attracted a girlfriend. One shot. Also contains some Theta as well.

Maybe A Little Family written by returntosaturn. AU in which Credence lives and Newt cares for him. Tina visits, and thinks perhaps she could make the visit permanent.

Really As Wonderful As You Seem written by Bellarsam_Chrisjulittle. Tina Goldstein has been living in London with her newly married sister, Queenie, and her husband, Jacob Kowalski, for two months. Newt Scamander is living in London after his book was published five months ago. Both receive an invitation to attend the Midsummer Festival that the Ministry throws. Though both are reluctant, both attend...and their lives are changed forever.  Also contains some Theta and Jaqueenie as well.

Good things happen when you meet strangers written by HufflepuffleMarauder. When Tina and Leta first introduce each other their conversation causes them to reflect back on previous memories with a fresh eye. After all, good things happen when you meet strangers. Also contains some Theta and Jacqueenie as well.

the stars go waltzing written by weatheredlaw. Queenie smiles. “I am happy.” She supposes it’s good that only one Goldstein sister can read minds. Also contains some Jacqueenie as well.

In the Stacks written by Kemara. "Parabolas" - the expansion of this fic - is now in progress! Tina Goldstein's first semester of college isn't going all that well until she meets a fascinating exchange student in the library.

Parabolas written by Kemara. An expansion of "In The Stacks." Tina Goldstein's first semester of college isn't going all that well until she meets a fascinating exchange student in the library. Also contains some Jacqueenie and Theta.

with all the light written by abbyli. Weeks ago, the Minister had come to Theseus with a mission to gather up a team of Aurors to go to Russia and infiltrate an underground group of Grindelwald’s followers. Naturally, Tina had been at the top of the list of candidates. Also contains some Theta and Jacqueenie.

A foggy night in London written by ravenpuff1956. Tina has been informed by a contact, that instead of being in Paris, Credence and the circus are instead in England. Also contains some Jacqueenie.

history and context written by weatheredlaw. Every time he comes back, things get a little bit bigger, a little bit bolder, until it all threatens to spill over at once.

Just This written by gnimmish. Newt and Tina try and fail to get some rest in the aftermath of The Crimes of Grindelwald.

Beneath the Surface written by ArdeaJestin. Both for her and for himself, he has to proceed in gentle touches, observe what she responds to, and ultimately make her understand that seeking the warmth of another body isn’t selfish, just the most irrepressible act of nature there is.

Find Me Where the Wild Things Are written by sakurazawa. 1929, a year and a half after the disaster at Pére Lachaise, and Tina Goldstein is at the end of her options. Haunted by dreams of Queenie, missing Newt, she’s searching for any action that might make a difference. But MACUSA has withdrawn all forces from Europe and refused further involvement in the hunt for Grindelwald, stymying her attempts to find her sister.

One Thing I’m Sure About written by HarmonizingSunsets. A letter arrives for Newt and Tina from Grindelwald. Newt knows they have to face him, but is afraid that nothing will be the same for them after. Confronting him again means risking it all, including the relationship they now have. Tina reassures him.

A Selfish Wandering Tourist written by Eilwen. It's OK to be a little selfish. Newt wanders into a bakery, attends a book-signing, tends to his creatures and meets with Tina to discuss the future of their relationship over sandwiches. Also contains some Jacqueenie.

A Silhouette Against Blue Light written by Eilwen. Outtake from 'A Selfish Wandering Tourist'.

Give Me Shelter, Be My Escape written by Bellarsam_Chrisjulittle. After the traumatic events in Paris, Newt finds Tina at a very low point, trying to escape her guilt and worry. By remembering a kindness she had once done for him, he is able to return the favor - and erase all doubts from her mind about his feelings in the process.

What Tina Gives Newt written by Bellarsam_Chrisjulittle. Takes place right after Newt, Tina and Queenie have said goodbye to Jacob. Everyone is affected with exhaustion, grief and sadness over what has happened and what nearly happened over the past few days. But the healing begins when Tina shows Newt just how selfless and lovely of a giver she is.

As Long As You Follow written by returntosaturn. He draws his rough fingertips over her bare knuckles in a certain kind of wistfulness that makes her hearten but straighten. In a new, sudden wave of sobriety she can see that he is made for these landscapes. His bronze and green and goldenrod are complimentary to the spring palette of the mountains and the old city at its feet.  

We Stood Tall Together written by returntosaturn. He curses himself for allowing his stubborn, unbridled empathy to impede even his grief, the only element that still remains within his grasp.

If I Can't Give You Words written by returntosaturn. He find himself restless, not in want of breakfast, unable to leave her side for the beasts in his case lest she wake up and find herself alone. So he settles at the chair at his desk, faces the wall tacked with sketches, strips of notes and scrawled reminders of this footnote or that, and the black, shining, well-oiled typewriter and its keys like taunting jaws.

Something Just Like This written by njckle. A collection of newtina AUs.  

a moment of apricity written by njckle. Newt returns to school. Although, he's a few years too late and on the wrong continent.

Our Midnights written by hufflepuffsstrikesback (nadvaa). Tina earned a weekend off before she had to go back to MACUSA. After a night spent together, Newt asked her out on a vacation. Finally, they have a little private time to get to know each other and to explore what they've been ignored before.

The Feeling Eyes written by hufflepuffsstrikesback (nadvaa). Tina is an undergraduate student working on her dissertation. Newton Scamander is four years her senior and currently chasing his doctorate degree. She needs him for her dissertation, and he needs her for his upcoming project. After working with him for quite some time, she realizes that he actually fun to be around.

Yours written by gnimmish. Not long after the events of Fantastic Beasts, Tina receives a missive from a certain magizoologist. Everything about it confuses her.

Maybe a little... written by EpochApocrypha. It had been happening all her life, she was always showing up where she was least wanted. This time though, her heart paid a heavy price for such a hard lesson learned. A bit of Newtleta as well here.

This Strange World written by @turnerflowers. Newt and Tina Scamander had the ideal marriage to a stranger’s eye. They were both young, healthy, and shared the kind of love that some could only dream of.

Playing in the Snow written by @timeladyjodie​. The group of Newt, Tina, Jacob, Nagini, Theseus, and Kama had been at Hogwarts for a week after the incident at the amphitheater, planning and scheming for what they should do next.

Somebody Waits for Me written by LittleLonnie. Tina returned to America to continue her work for MACUSA. Surviving four years in a place now full of tainted memories and far away from loved ones. Until one day she is offered a chance to leave it all behind to continue her life in Europe where she left her heart.

a grand canyon in the corner of your bedroom written by fakelight. “I couldn’t wait,” he says, hesitantly, haltingly. “For it to be published. I couldn’t wait.”

Catharsis written by hidetheteaspoons. Following the events of that horrific night, Newt provides his companions with the comfort they need to begin the process of healing. During this time, Newt meets with Tina and confronts his feelings for her head-on, while Dumbledore prepares the group for the next phase of the war against Grindelwald.

Also recommend the works of @silvertonedwords, @albinokittens300, @katiehavok, and @ravens-and-writings. All have written a list of awesome fics to read.

[theimpossiblescheme]

More thoughts about the 1950 Cyrano (because this play and this version of it in particular are about ten percent of my personality at this point):

**I think the brilliant thing about Ferrer’s darker moods is that he doesn’t slip into overwhelming gloom like Depardieu or fly completely off the handle like Jacobi—he just kind of…stonewalls.  The compartmentalization of an old soldier who’s learned to keep the battle and anything that isn’t the battle separate for your own sanity.  There’s a stoicism to his Cyrano, a sense that he’s actively trying to block himself off from any “weaker” emotion.  Even when he’s musing about watching a young couple in the street and wishing he could know what it’s like walking with a woman on his arm, and his voice gets so low and wistful, he quickly regains his composure and gives a little smile, like he’s apologizing for it and signaling that he’s “back to normal” now.  It gives you a sense of how jaded he really is underneath all that bombast and romance—people don’t want to see the Real You, so you’d better wall it off and be content with ramming into that wall a few times if you ever get tired of putting up that façade because that’s what you get for showing weakness.  There’s also this brilliant moment during the Battle of Arras where, without missing a beat, he plucks a musket out of the hands of a dying soldier and takes his place at the barricade.  Even Le Bret looks at him sideways because, on the surface, it’s such a callous thing to do… but there’s that compartmentalization again, except this time it’s a little less painful for him.  Leave everything but the battle behind.  Be content to die if you must, because there is at least glory in that.  Conceal, don’t feel, if you will.

**There’s nothing particularly graceful in the way Ferrer handles a swordfight—a rapier is a finesse weapon that doesn’t require a lot of movement, and yet he’s all over the damn place. He’s stamping and barreling towards his enemies like a hurricane, bending and diving like a hawk, throwing his entire body into the fight when all he really needs to do is flex his wrist and mind his feet.  But that sort of wild athleticism works because… that’s the character right there. Ridiculous and unorthodox on the surface, but holy shit look at that control how is he not leaving himself wide open this shouldn’t work at all and somehow it does and it’s beautiful.  And there’s that scene many years after Arras when we see Cyrano’s shadow gesticulating wildly, showing off as he tells the story to the new cadets, and we fully expect him to still be full of that same vim and vigor… and then we see that that’s not a sword in his hand. That’s a cane.  Oh…

(and we don’t see him wield it again until he’s moments from death and trying fruitlessly to fend it off just a little longer, while Le Bret holds Roxane back and murmurs, “He’s delirious…”)

**For all that Ferrer’s Cyrano gets pissy with Prince’s Christian at times and even actively angry with him on one occasion… when it matters—when it really matters…

He’s a part of Roxane.  He’s a part of him.  So even without knowing it, there’s that kinship, that almost-tenderness that always comes so close… if only they could see that about themselves at the same time.  It’s only after Christian’s death that Cyrano can talk about him with open fondness, acknowledging his bravery and nobility and even his unique beauty.  He’s not just this well-meaning, but infuriatingly thick kid whom he’s babysitting and tutoring for Roxane’s sake... he hasn’t been for a long time.  Struggling side-by-side, whether it’s for a woman’s love or against the Spanish, draws people together without them knowing it.  Christian is a hero, the sort that Cyrano could never be… if only he’d stated saying that with real admiration and affection, instead of sad resignation, before he’d been hit by a cannonball that night.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Little Big Things (2/4)

(@ricksanchezdwc) So like we had done not too long ago, me, @hoodoo12 @porkchop-ao3 @rickstexaschick are doing the same prompt cause we all loved the idea. Thanks to @dorklyevil for allowing me to use a line from one of her comics. And I didn't mention it before, but this story references Labyrinth, and it follows the events of this fic As The World Falls Down.

This is part 2. If you haven't read part one then read it here. (Read Part1 Here)

________________

Chapter 2: The Scientist Who Became A King

Here, it was evergreen, and it never rained.

You had never known a time without the tears of God; the rain, which washed the earth clean of its trials, and its yesterdays, welcoming the oncoming morrows ever to come. Though, there was a time, you did without it, and you longed for it, and the places it touched upon; once upon a dream.

“Rick,” you wondered, as you did about many things. “does it rain here?”

“Only during certain seasons. I-I know there is a lake on the west side of this planet, but it's - it's a-a bit far from here. Why d-do you ask?”

“Hmm, I was just wondering.”

“Hohoho,” he chuckled. “as y-you should. Curiosity means a-a desire t-to learn or know about anything, and it isn't - I-I-I don't dislike it. ” He admitted with a wink. “Just in case y-you were wondering.”

You pouted, which made him laugh, a full on belly laugh. The little tease, perhaps the Rick in him couldn't resist.

______________

Side glances, soft smiles, random stories from Citadel, he was in another one of his talkative, happy go lucky moods. Blame it on the scenery, or you telling him an hour or so ago how cute he was, but he was running on happiness. “And th-thats how I-I got this lucky penny.”

Holding your hand out, you giggled. “Can I hold it? Maybe something good will happen.”

Glancing between you and the penny, he placed a quick peck on your cheek and dropped the coin on your palm. With a blush, he replied softly. “F-for extra luck.”

You gave it back, and continued walking, allowing him to wait anxiously, before blowing back a kiss that made him tear up a little. Damn it he was cute. Perhaps, you felt uninhibited, though Zeta-7 had that effect on you a great deal of the time; that or you two really were being affected by the environment. You two walked among enormous flowers for what seemed like hours.

The blood red blossoms drooped heavily from above, their faces turned down towards your tiny forms; their blessings hidden in the wind and its whispers. For a while you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity. It was as though the world around you was calling for you to return. You wanted to roll around, and tumble down hill, and the flowers gave you the strongest sense to climb them; their perfume thick and sweet, emitting a soft, amber glow. Petals drifted down like leaves falling in autumn. Each time one touched the ground, a soft sound could be heard; like a chord being struck on a harp. A great symphony was all around you two, with no beginning or end. Feelings of deep peace and satisfaction were within you; as well as nostalgia from false memories.

The thing about memories, they were like homemade movies; messy and out of focus, with the select few which were hidden gems, located in the corners of the basement in a random cardboard box; only remembered when stumbled upon. Though, if you closed your eyes, you would be back there, in that place where you had lived a second lifetime. And you'd remember that as charming as it had been, it truly was melancholic; like the rain. You'd remember the days you were almost a princess, and the loneliness of the mountain.

At the very top of the white capped mountains, it would sometimes rain for days, especially on the ones when you were the saddest; perhaps the mountain king had his own sadness too.

It made you wonder, if it was because Zeta-7 had been longing for you, or if he knew you were longing for him. For now, observing him, and seeing him happy, made you hope it really wasn't all that bad for him. If it had been, you would do all you could to make it better.

________________________

The ground was soft, and with every step you took, you'd sink a little into the moss pillows before bouncing back up; a lilting tune encouraging your playfulness. This place had a charm akin to the forest in the middle of spring, whose flowers and trees had spread themselves to enjoy the filtered beams of light. Of course, if you replaced the trees with flowers, and the light with that of bioluminescent pollen, then there wouldn't be much difference. Oh, that opened up a whole other line of questions which you could ask later, but for now you were giddy, and every time you bounced back up, you'd erupt into a fit of giggles. A few times, Zeta-7 had to stop and make sure you didn't hurt yourself, but for the most part, he'd stand back and watch, or take pictures of your amusement. A few times, you caught him wiping at his eyes, but he'd say it was nothing; you knew better of course, but let him be.

Later, there was laughter in his voice when he said, “Y-y-y-y-you enjoying yourself?”

You nodded in between giggles, and when you had enough, you stepped off the moss, and leaned against one of the flowers stems, breathless and tired. My, how the light filtered through the canopy of leaves, the low humidity, the intoxicating scent, and the view made you wistful. “The garden fairies had told me about a place like this once, as well as...” you faltered, suddenly afraid of triggering bad memories.

Though, he picked up where you left off. “A-a place you saw once upon a dream?”

“Yeah. Um, is it okay to talk about it?”

With his back towards you, Rick nodded as he unpacked the contents of his backpack in search for a snack. “If y-you want to.”

Sometimes, his passive responses stopped you from talking any further. You assumed it was a trait he had picked up or learned in order to avoid drawing attention to himself or to stay out of trouble, but it also made you uncomfortable at times. If he wasn't interested, then usually you would avoid the subject, but this time you carried on; even if with reluctance. “We haven't talked much about it since it happened.”

“I-I know.” His voice picking up that endless guilt.

“It's not one of those things that's going to go away,” You sighed. “and to be honest, I haven't gotten over it.”

Everything that had happened, at least the parts you remembered, you didn't want to forget. Well, except for the loneliness; you didn't like that part. In a dream, you had a family, friends, and almost became a queen, but what did you almost lose in order gain all that? Forgetting Rick? Almost losing your life? The lesser of two evils was your current life, but it didn't always feel that way.

You rubbed your arm, suddenly finding your shoes a bit interesting. “Am I supposed to bring it up casually, or what?”

“Do what y-y-you think is right I ugh - I suppose.”

“That's sort of the problem. I don't know what's right anymore” This caught his attention, as he had stopped moving, and soon after began to wring his hands. Damn, you needed to remember to control your tone. You continued, in a gentler tone. “You take me to these dazzling, wonderful places, and we usually go home happy and tired, with a handful of stories to add to our memory jars, and I enjoy that, and what we do. However,” You paused, nibbling your bottom lip in hopes of finding something better to say, but continued on. “there's something we haven't addressed, and that's me, and how what I do affects you. When we flirt with death, and get injured, because I wanted a good photo or something, how come you don't get mad? I mean, you deserve to after you went on a journey that could have been avoided in the first place if I would've listened. And forgive me if I sound shrill, but I almost forgot you. Doesn't that bother you?”

Placing the items back in his pack, and slipping it over his shoulders, he stood there so frighteningly still, you wondered if you had finally crossed the line. Then, he took out the penny he talked about a few hours ago, and gave it a squeeze. “It - it does, but y-you didn't forget me. At least not completely, and I-I-I guess I left a deeper impression then I had pr-previously believed..”

“But if I would have? Don't you see, I'm not prepared for this. We've gone over the other hypothetical, important what not, but not about the incident, at least not in detail. And I think it's about time we do, that way we're both aware of what not to do next time, and how I can avoid making an ass of myself. Don't you agree?”

Turning around, the lines around Zeta-7s eyes deepened, as well as the creases of his forehead, and there was a pensive cloudiness of his usually electric blues. The sweet songs around you had transitioned almost without your notice. Adagio, the melody now reminded you Clair De Lune, and Gymnopédie. “Well, I-I-I-I thought you - I assumed it made you uncomfortable, and that's the last thing that I'd ever want you t-t-to feel. W-w-we can talk if you're - you're ready.”

“If I'm ready? Are you?”

“P-p-possibly.”

“Honestly, I am uncomfortable talking about this,” you admitted, which compelled him to pull you close, rubbing your back in soothing circles. Enveloped in the warmth of the man you loved, and a distance away from everything else which could possibly hurt you, you second guessed on whether it really was a good time to think of it again, but how else would you two get past this? You continued, in that small, girlish voice that pained him. “but it's not because of what happened to me. I couldn't care less if I had gotten hurt, but if it meant hurting you, and if what I've put you through has, then I wish I hadn't been so careless. I thought I had it all together, and knew what I was doing, but all I seem to do is give you trouble. God, I'm such idiot.”

“Shh,” he cooed, brushing away a lock of hair. “th-thats not true. Y-you're thoughtful, and - and perceptive, and s-s-so clever.”

“What have I ever done that's so clever?”

Leaning forward until your foreheads touched, he confessed. “Y-y-y-y-you got me to - to loosen up and try new things, and showed me its okay to get e-emotional. Why, y-you even brought me t-t-to the moon without ever leaving the ground.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I-I have wanted many things during my life,” he admitted, pulling back enough to study you. “but none of them have been as - as wonderful as you. And I've - you know that I've traveled across the universe, but it's usually been alone

I'm - I-I-I don't want to be alone anymore. Having you around has inspired me t-t-to get back in touch with my surroundings a-and the world, but I - you're m-my world. Gosh,” he blushed as he caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing away fresh tears. “you're - you really are more beautiful than the night and stars combined, and y-y-you don't even know it. Y-you're my satellite, m-m-mi Luna, and it takes a strong women to put up with me. You're my treasure, and I'd - I'd do anything t-t-to protect you. That's why I-I-I-I chose t-to do it, to go and find you. We're all w-we got, and despite what I thought might of - of happened, I'm s-s-so happy I found you, and that you're safe. W-w-with me.”

“What did you think would happen?”

With serious, but tender eyes, Zeta-7 answered. “Th-that you would have forgotten me completely, and never woken up.”

“And?”

He cleared his throat in the manner he did from time to time, trying to piece together the right words that wouldn't upset you. In a voice above a whisper, he finished. “And p-p-p-passed away.”

“Oh.”

“Th-that blue moss did a-a number on you, but there doesn't seem to be any residual side effects. I'm glad a-about that.”

“What if I would've had brain damage? What then?”

Jokingly, he answered. “Hmm, then I guess I-I would've gone back and used Mr. Needfuls gift.”

“You…..you would've done that for me? No, that's outrageous. If you did that, then you wouldn't have been able to do your science stuff.”

With a shrug, he softened. “Th-that's true, but we would have had other stuff w-we could do, and I-I-I still would love you. Diminished intelligence d-doesn't affect happiness. On the contrary, we'd only focus on - on what truly matters. That, and I'd have the joy t-to learn it all over again.”

“Rick, I love it when you get cheesy, but you couldn't mean all that.”

“I-I-I do, but it's okay if you don't believe it. I'll - I'll prove it, but for now let's not - not think about it too hard. Everything bad th-that happened, we'll - we'll talk about it and g-get through it. T-t-together.”

“So, I can ask whatever I want?”

“Y-y-yes, wherever, whenever.”

You knew he meant it to sound sweet, but it took a moment for it to sink in what he actually said, and you couldn't help it when you giggled. “Rick, I'm pretty sure that's the title of a Shakira song.”

“Hohoho, r-really? Was she on - on American idol?”

His obliviousness only made it worse. How cute. You really were lucky to have him, this patient dork of a man. “No, but nevermind that. I'm glad I still have you too.”

“I'm glad y-you're still as adorable and lovely as - as ever.”

Giving him a playful shove, despite the heat in your cheeks, you hid your face in the scratchy fabric of his linen shirt,. “Rick, how can you say stuff like that with a straight face?”

In his matter of fact way, he answered. “B-because I mean it.”

This man really would one day kill you with kindness, and this time it was your vines which stretched out, wrapping themselves on his arm, and it's flowers kissing wherever they could touch; his neck, cheeks, eyes, forehead, and mouth. It was amusing to watch him laugh and squirm, which encouraged his vines to do the same to you, but you two pulled back a little, and they returned to place, and behaved; at least for the moment.

________________

Rick decided to call the silly, cheeky, little vines from your matching bracelets Ioculus vines, which meant funny if you heard him correctly. Anyway, they were mischievous, and had minds of their own; or so you said, because you didn't want to admit how fun it was to tease Rick. Why, he might have been in the middle of an explanation, and they'd by climbing up his arm, and across his back, but he'd only squirm and continue. Though, the one time your Ioculus managed to kiss the back of his neck, he jumped back so violently, you'd swear he had seen a ghost. And watching him lightly scold the Ioculus as though they were children, then apologize for getting annoyed at them, not only made you laugh wholeheartedly, but it made you imagine him as a father, and what it would be like if he had to be a disciplinarian.

Perhaps it was but your girlish dream at work, but you could see him playing with two or three kids, telling them stories, showing them the magic of science. If they misbehaved, he'd take them aside, and explain why they might be getting disciplined, but never out of anger, and always reassure them that it was all out of love, and that he'd always care for them. And if you were honest with yourself, you pictured yourself sitting on his lap, after they had gone to bed, listening to how his day was, and how much he missed you. And you'd tell him….. Oh, but those were just thoughts; and you imagined a lot of things.

You wondered if the ioculus worked like mood rings and acted upon your feelings for each other. Did they know what the heart truly wanted? Because, as long as the two of you were close, the vines along your wrists seemed to interact with one another, but when Zeta-7 distanced himself, the blooms growth was stunted, and withered a little. And after a while, whether it had to do with the sensory overload, or your bending the forces according to your will, you were drained. “Rick, is it okay to rest for a while?”

“Of - of course.”

Leading you by the hand, he took a moment to spread out a blanket and you proceeded by laying beside him, feeling more worn out then you had anticipated. “Ughhh, I'm so tired. Honestly, when we get home, I might just go straight to bed.”

“Do y-y-you want to go home now?”

“No, I’ll be fine if I rest for a while.”

“Are you hungry? D-do you want a snack? I-I have fruit, sandwiches, and I-I even brought granola.”

“Maybe later.” you yawned. “Come here, I want to use your chest as a pillow.”

Carefully, he laid back, making a little old man sound as he settled himself. With your head resting above his heart, you kept quiet for a little while, listening to his heartbeat, the plants around you, and the Ioculus interact. When they did this, there was a sense of completeness, and you'd look at Zeta-7 and wonder how you could adore him so much. The way he wrinkled his nose, his ever changing expressions, soft skin, his sweetness, his everything; you adored it all. Aware of how vulnerable you've become with him, you just want to melt into him, and give him everything; anything that would make him happy. “Rick?”

“Yeah?”

Tentatively, you combed his hair with your fingers, gauging his response as you traced shapes lazily along his scalp. “Are you happy?”

He chuckled, draping an arm over you, answering softly. “When I-I'm with you I am.”

“Flirt. What about your hair, who cuts it?”

“I-I do. Why,” he tensed. “sh-should I change it?”

Brushing his bangs away from his forehead, you pressed a kiss on his brow. “No, I like it this way. It's part of your charm. I guess I was just curious, because it's not even in the back.”

“Oh that, well it's - it's not always easy t-to reach it.”

“Do you mind if I help you next time? I wouldn't want you to go out, not looking your sharpest.”

“I - I don't mind.”

“You'd probably mind if I kissed whatever I could reach. Especially right here.” you softened, pressing a light kiss on his neck which made his heart beat faster.

“I - I do mind that, but it's - I-I-I'm sure you'll probably just tease a-a-a little.”

“You're right, but I might surprise you. Maybe, I won't try anything and I'll just cut your hair. You'll just have to wait and see. Though, this isn't what I meant to talk about.”

“I ugh - I-I didn't think so. What's on y-your mind? You can tell me, if y-you want.”

Snuggling yourself closer, you wondered.“When you were in my dream, you knew about me, but I knew little to nothing about you. How did you become the mountain king? I mean, you don't seem like the type to rule or lord over anyone. So, how did that happen?”

“Oh, it's - are y-y-you sure you want to hear it?”

“I do.”

Caressing your hair, he sighed. “I-I will admit, that it - it wasn't as exciting as y-you think it was, but if y-y-you are sure, then I'll tell it.”

“I am, but tell me just the good parts. Oh, and the parts with me in it. ”

His blue eyes shone with amusement, as he kissed your temple. “O-o-okay just th-the good parts then."

TBC

[bthump]

what would you like to change in berserk? actually im asking how the story would work without using rape as a plot device but also in general (characterization, plot etc.)

Ooh this is an interesting question, ty!

I wouldn’t change either Guts or Griffith’s backstories tbh, I think they’re actually pretty well done, and important to their characters and narratives without being the be all end all. Well, I’d like to make Gennon less of an evil gay stereotype and Donovan less of a scary black man stereotype but yk, other than those details the existence of rape in their backstories isn’t something I’d change.

With Casca… tough call. Her story is all about gendered violence to the point where if you got rid of the rape attempts you’d have to come up with a whole new story for her. But it’s still a shallower and less well-rounded depiction of abuse than either guts or griffith’s backstories, bc it’s so emphatically gendered, like, rather than informing her personality or her choices it’s just framed as being a woman.

So actually I guess for Casca what I’d change is (actually pretty obviously lol) her motivations. She’s not in love with Griffith, she idealizes his dream because she knows he wants to dismantle those power structures that fuck her over and create a place where those w/ power can’t easily abuse their power over others. She hates Guts not because she’s jealous of him (tho she could still be jealous of his emotional closeness with Griffith, like she’d still admire Griffith here even if she’s not in love with him and I like that rival dynamic), but because she recognizes that he could end up destroying Griffith’s dream.

Also I think we can still cut out most of the rape threats she gets while still showing that she has something to fight against. Maybe keep Adon being a gross dick (in all fairness he kind of mirrors Gennon towards Griffith which kind of shows how they’re fighting for the same dream - ie a world where those kinds of dudes are shut down) but have Casca just fighting for her life rather than against rape attempts as she runs from the 100 man fight.

So nothing really changes much until Guts comes back from his vacation. And now Casca is genuinely, genuinely angry and hateful towards him, because he did exactly what she’s been afraid he was going to do - destroyed Griffith’s dream, and her hope for a better future.

Which means they don’t have sex lol, Casca was never into Guts, they began a friendship towards the end of the war but nothing more. And now that Guts has come back Casca is actively hostile to him, though after Guts lets her stab him she probably forgives him a bit bc it’s not like he intended to destroy absolutely everything, and he’s clearly fucked up about it.

Also no suicide attempt.

So their dynamic during the rescue mission is resentful allies, like a throwback to their first three years knowing each other.

Wyald still happens but no attempted rape w/ Casca obviously.

Now when it comes to the Eclipse, I want it to be all about Guts, and I want it to hit the audience over the head with parallels to his childhood. It’s the Eclipse, it doesn’t need to be subtle. Rather than looking wistful when Griffith sacrifices everyone, I want Guts to look betrayed, I want him to look just as sad and horrified as he did when he was 11 and Gambino told him he sold him to Donovan.

Agh I’d hate to lose the creepy silent monster vibe from Femto, but something like a cold, “you’re still alive?” would be v fitting w/ the “you should have died” parallels. Tho idk I’m torn on that.

And ok I said I want it to be all about Guts but I can’t just kill off Casca. But if she’s gonna live the Eclipse needs some serious personal meaning for her too. So maybe her reaction to being sacrificed, knowing it’s for the dream she’s dedicated her life to and in theory she should be willing to give her life for it, and trying to reconcile that with the horrificness of the situation and her desperate desire to survive anyway. So she survives long enough for Femto to show up, because she’s not the third best fighter in the Hawks for nothing, and then…

torture? Femto has monsters hold Guts down and tortures Casca in a way reminiscent of a kid pulling the wings off a fly. She loses an arm, Guts keeps his because he’s too busy being utterly terrified and possibly flashbacking to hack his own arm off in a rage.

Like, one thing about the Eclipse rape, is that if Miura had to have it as a way of emotionally affecting Guts, how the fuck did he manage to draw like two chapters of awful awful shit with Guts being held down by monsters that he’d just watched rape Casca, and completely fail to allude to Guts’ own rape trauma? How. Hooooow it’s mind boggling. It’s absurd.

But you don’t even need the graphic rape for that, like hell, Miura has absolutely adequately set up the correlation between giant monsters Guts is compelled to fight and his own childhood trauma imo to justify Guts having a very emotional traumatic reaction to just being held down and made helpless by monsters after being essentially given to them.

There’s Black Swordsman Guts in a nutshell, and this is exactly what was implied to have caused him to go full traumatized amoral asshole. Before g*tsca was a gleam in Miura’s eye all he had were those parallels to Guts’ childhood trauma - Guts being given away to monsters by someone he trusted - and that’s all he needed.

So anyway, because Casca lives, she has her own reaction to being casually tortured by Femto before being rescued, which is also a replay of her childhood trauma but without the agency of killing her attacker herself with a sword. So her reaction could very well be similar to Guts’ - a desire to kill monsters and get revenge. Maybe she’s lost her idealism wrt the dream, and she’s more cynical now - a better world is impossible, best you can do is survive this one.

She and Guts go their separate ways because they’re barely friends, let alone lovers, and remember 2 brands = big ghost problems.

After this the narrative splits 3 ways between NGriff, Guts, and Casca.

I’m reaching the limits of my creativity lol. So I’m just gonna suggest that Guts gets the behelit, Casca gets the armour and the rpg group, Casca gets the moving on arc and hooks up with Farnese while maybe finding a happy medium between changing the world and lashing out against the world, and Guts succumbs to his inner darkness and gets a highly emotional confrontation with Griffith. Since he has the behelit maybe he uses it upon realizing that Griffith’s heart is still beating for him, bc the emotional conflict is just too much, and sacrifices Griffith to become a Zodd-esque apostle wandering battlefields and fighting for no reason, basically returned to his pre-Griffith state.

It’s probably shorter than 355 chapters too lbr. I’d say NGriff creates Falconia right before the confrontation with Guts, so yk he achieves his dream b4 ironically getting sacrificed. Otherwise his story doesn’t change much. Maybe stronger suggestions that he’s not as unemotional as he looks, to build up to a guts confrontation better.

Like… I’m not a very creative or good writer lol but I feel this general outline could be written in a very good and satisfying way by someone with talent, like Miura.

[red-wardens]

9. why were you drawn to each one of your characters?

Blue Surana:

Blue is my first OC ever in any fandom so she’s very near and dear to me. She was from when I first played Origins and was micromanaging with guides (like 6 Wiki tabs open) every steps of the way. She was “perfect” and “overpowered” in the amount of people she was able to save and the things she was able to do and somehow figure out, but still socially inept (like me irl..) with her relationships (luckily I had DLC gifts to buy everyone’s affections). She was remarkable capable as an Arcane Warrior/Spirit Healer/Battle Mage but still  awkward, quiet, detached from everything (in the end she ended up alone because Alistair broke off their very brief romance). When I left gaming for a while then came back, I started head-canoning stuff for her. A lot. 

That’s when I realized she reminded me of someone important to me. A non blood-related cousin still in his teenage years. He’s high-functioning autistic and just..one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. He doesn’t talk much but does well in school and athletics. A lot of inspiration of Blue when I was getting her “Tumblr ready” came from him. She’s her own person now and someone I do actual research for sometimes to get her correct, and she still stumps me. Which is what I love about her. I feel like she’s my OC who most shows/tells me who they are rather than the other way around. I’m still figuring her out.

Isseya Mahariel:

I have a crush on her. Hands down. While Blue was capable and quiet, she cared what people thought about her. She wanted to do the right thing to please everyone, or as many people as she could, and she usually succeeded. Isseya doesn’t give a fuck. She’s self-reliant, efficient, and she gets the job she thinks should get done the way she thinks is best to do it. Lazer focus, fiery temper, but resolute, strong in her beliefs and her self confidence. She’s a hero people write stories about. She could step on me and I’d thank her. Isseya is definitely not perfect, she’s prideful, impatient, slow to form bonds and cut ties quickly, and honestly, yeah she’s a bitch. But she’s good at what she does, embracing Warden Commander and Arlessa life and adapting quickly to succeed in both (in kind of a ruthless way but still). A contrast to my Surana who walked away from both roles. 

Alyss Amell:

My third and final play-through of Dragon Age Origins (for now) and I realized I wanted to shake things up. My Surana and Mahariel both are arguably great heroes. They can hold their own in battle and make tough decisions. I wanted to try something a little closer to home. Alyss was the OC I was sure no one would like but me. She’s not the hero type at all. Soft, cowardly, cries easily, a terrible offensive fighter. She has a good heart but makes bad choices based off of fear or other emotions. She made deals with demons to learn blood magic, she took sides (werewolves over elves) when she could have saved everyone if she had more confidence, and she could never speak up (even to ask Alistair to do the Dark Ritual). Her only Redemption was in death when she slayed the archdemon (Alistair did most of the work but she dealt the final blow). She wanted her life to mean something even if she was such a screw up. 

 When I started writing my Multi Warden AU the first thing I was happy to do was save her. After Origins, if given the chance to live, she grows so much. More than any other of my OC’s she has the most character growth between Origins and Inquisition in both skill and personality. I’m really proud of her. 

Kieran Tabris:

Ah my angry son. He was the first of the 4 Warden Companions I made for my Multi-Warden AU and my first male OC. He originally was based off a mix of two guys I’ve known closely and his general description was “idiotic, self-important asshole. He’s really pretty and loves himself and fighting things”. He’s actually stayed fairly close to his original character, but as he kind of deepened into his own person (and people were really receptive to him. He’s probably my most popular OC) I grew such a soft spot for him and his struggle to learn Common Tongue, his love for his mother, his almost desperate effort to connect with people as friends and his inability (or so he thinks/so i thought) to be more than friends (a lot of my love for him comes from his relationship with @dickeybbqpit​ Darrian Tabris). 

Ronan Aeducan:

Shortly into starting to plot out my Multi-Warden AU I noticed something… They were all a bunch of kids. Blue was 18, Isseya was 19, even Alyss was only 21 (now that I’m 24 I realize how young that still is). I needed someone to be like a “big brother”, a “Wise mentor”, a “voice of reason” to these disaster children. And then 27 year-old Ronan was just like “…nah”. He took up a personality of his own: detached, unmotivated, capable but uninterested in dealing with things. He will rise to the occasion when he absolutely has to but most of the time just hangs back and tells everyone they need to chill (which they do). I respect that. Also he understands Blue Surana better than anyone (probably better than me) and can speak for her and take care of her. I love him for that. 

Nora Brosca:

I’m honestly really biased towards mages, then elves. So it’s not what she is but who she is that draws me in. Nora is just so full of jokes, and laughter, and will to live despite everything that’s happened to her. All of the Origins are pretty sad/tragic, and most of my Wardens carry it with them. But she doesn’t. She only looks forward and I like that.

Cassian Cousland:

I may have mentioned before that Cassian was built last to fill in where my other OC’s were lacking. But then he just became such a good guy on his own merits (and a good boyfriend to other OC’s) that I just became enchanted with him too. Some people have lamented to me that they wish he was bi because he’d be so sweet to their female OC’s or that their female OC has a crush on him anyways, and honestly, same. I started feeling towards him what me and my female Inquisitor felt towards Dorian Pavus when we first met him. A wistful *sigh* “if only…”Then that’s when I knew I wrote a good character if he’s so likeable even I sigh that I can’t have him. But like Dorian Pavus, he remains completely strictly gay and perfect just the way he is :)

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MultiMuse Asks