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#like i get the first one being the ladies of fate or whatnot
ranger-kellyn · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday: Out of The Woods (2)
let me slide this in at the last second lmao
as before, it's nano, so next to no editing right now
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Laventon came to a stop outside one of the smaller buildings.  A small connected row of buildings, all lacking a porch.  Likely easier ones to throw together.  “This’ll be your spot for the night.  It’s not much, but it’s far better than being exposed to the elements!  Should be some sleeping mats and bedding and all that inside.  Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get some proper clothing.  Apologies for that, ladies,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 
They both shrugged, Cynthia the first to answer.  “It’s fine, this is…” 
“More than we could have asked for, considering the imposition,” Diantha finished.  
He shook his head.  “I know it seems like an imposition now, but trust me: I have full confidence in you.  Whatever trial the captain comes up with you two will pass with flying colors!” 
They remained silent, unsure of what to say in response.  
He chuckled, turning himself away to head back to his own quarters.  “I have a good feeling about you two.  Me and my pokémon didn’t find you on that beach for nothing.  I’m not the kind of man who believes in a completely planned out, predestined fate or anything like that– but I do believe in everything finding a place.  Yours is here with us, I firmly believe that.” 
Diantha cracked a smile.  “Thank you, professor.” 
“Yeah– thank you.  I hope you’re right,” Cynthia said.  
He nodded.  “Goodnight, ladies.  One of us will fetch you first thing in the morning.” 
“Goodnight,” they said after the other, turning back to the room ahead of them.  
Cynthia reached out to slide the door open first, motioning for Diantha to go in ahead of her.  
The interior wasn’t much to write home about.  Simple wooden walls, a small screen divider to black off the back sleeping area, and a large fireplace of some kind in the middle of the room.  Off to the side, a small pile of kindling, but notably nothing to get it actually started with.  
Thankfully, a small oil lamp had been lit by whoever got the space ready, two mats laid out in the back ready for them.  
Better than nothing, Cynthia reminded herself.  
They both discarded their shoes by the door, but remained in place, unsure of where or what to even start with.  
“I’m sorry,” Cynthia said, not meaning to.  
Diantha turned around to face her, hands dropping to her side.  “For what?” she asked. 
She shrugged, unable to find the exact words she was looking for.  Where to even begin apologizing for such a situation.  Despite not knowing how they even got there, she was starting to come to the conclusion that it was all her fault somehow.  A deep, sureness in her bones, that this was all her doing.  
The lightning, the memory loss– her fault.  It had to be.  
“For– this!  I just– I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault,” she said, feeling a strain at the back of her throat.  She wanted to cry– but she also didn’t want to do that in front of Diantha.  She didn’t want –see: deserve– to be comforted by her in any way.  For all they knew, she had kidnapped Diantha into this situation that had backfired on them both.  “It’s this gut feeling that it’s all my fault we’re here–” 
Diantha hummed, shifting her weight to her other foot.  “As much as I would love to pass off the blame–” and she really wanted to “–I feel as though I must share some blame in this as well.”  
To escape the situation, Diantha began to move around, wanting to ensure everything was safe and secure.  She wasn’t even sure how someone would, but there was a worry in the back of her mind that there would be something in the room that would allow someone to watch in on them– and if there was any chance of changing clothes and whatnot there– she had to ensure that. 
Cynthia withheld a sigh, joining in on her search of the room.  The bed area was a specialized flooring–tatami if she remembered correctly.  The sleeping mats, however, looked less than comfortable.  Thin and lightweight, they were likely camping mats, not proper sleeping mats. 
At least she hoped so.  
Sleeping on what was essentially the floor for the rest of her life –hard pass.  
The wool blankets weren’t much better.  Thin and long– they were likely made to be folded in two for better warmth. 
They both sincerely hoped it was all simply due to their arrival being so last minute, and not that these were to be their permanent arrangements.  
Cynthia hoped there was at least some sort of barter system they could work with to get better blankets.  It wasn’t going to get any warmer until sunrise, and with the plummeting temperatures, it was looking to be a long, cold night. 
Eventually, the two found nothing of note, reconvening back by the sleeping mats, sitting across from one another. 
“So,” Cynthia weakly began.  “What now?” she asked.  
Diantha shook her head, reaching up to grab at her braid, busying her hands with untangling it.  “Fuck I wish I knew,” she grumbled, pulling at the hairband that had knotted in her hair at the end.  
Cynthia pulled her knees up to her person.  “I’m talking really basic here.  Like– we’re as alone as we’re going to get,” she said, glancing around.  In the silence, they waited for the sound of anything other than their own heartbeats.  The faintest of shufflings from the room linked to theirs, but nothing beyond that.  Not even a muffled voice.  “You and I are obviously not from here, so I think we need to try to piece together every little thing we can think of,” she said. 
Hair loosened, she combed through what she could, letting it fall over her shoulder in waves.  
Distracted, Cynthia couldn’t help but wish her hair was at her length –or at the very least had a comb.  “Anything we can think of besides how bad I want a hairbrush,” she grumbled, pulling a section of her own hair over her shoulder to work on what she could with her own fingers. 
Diantha breathed a laugh.  “I was just thinking how you’ll probably need a haircut.” 
She nodded, glaring at the knot she had snagged earlier.  “I don’t even know why I have it this long– this is ridiculous.”  Waist-length hair– what was she even thinking? At least from beyond the sand and grit from the day, it seemed healthy otherwise.  
Whatever she did to manage it in her normal life, she very likely wouldn't have that kind of luxury now. 
“I’d offer to help, but I’d hate to end up pulling your hair too much,” Diantha said with a laugh. 
A statement that thoroughly derailed Cynthia’s train of thought.  Having her hair pulled…having it pulled by Diantha…A firm tug– a fistfull at the base of her neck– she needed to get off that thought. It was decidedly inappropriate for a number of reasons.  
“So,” Cynthia feebly began again, staring intently at her own hands in her hair, “what do we know?” she asked. 
Diantha hummed, bringing a knee up closer to rest her head on.  “I am…Diantha.  Diantha Ann…Ruston,” she said. 
The soft roll of her ‘R’ was not helping Cynthia’s situation any. 
“I’m…” Diantha tried to think of more, but nothing beyond that.  Who or what the Ruston name was associated with– blank.  She wished desperately she could at least remember her parents –did she have any siblings? Cousins, perhaps? Any friends? Something…
Strangest of all, though…she didn’t feel any real sadness over not remembering her own parents.  It was all surface level sadness at best. Whoever her family was…maybe it meant they weren’t good people. 
Which begged the question: what kind of person was she? 
She cursed, the first word that came to mind– however, notably to both, it wasn’t in the language they had been speaking.  It had been Kalosian. 
“I can speak Kalosian,” she said, realizing she could both freely speak and think in both languages without much pause, meaning she was at least fluent in two languages. 
Cynthia nodded along.  “But the language we’re speaking now…” She paused to think.  “Galarian?” she guessed.  It sounded right, anyway.  
Diantha shrugged, noncommittal, looking up at Cynthia, who was still intent on her massive mane.  “But judging by your accent– you aren’t from Galar.  I would say I believe the professor has a Galarian accent,” she said.  She wasn’t sure of specifically why, but for some unknown reason it at least explained in her mind why she teased being offended at having her accent compared to his. 
Cynthia shook her head to agree.  “I’m not, but…I’m drawing a blank on where I’m from…” It was an odd feeling, to not know one’s origin in the way she didn’t.  While they could at least conclude that Diantha was from Kalos, Cynthia didn’t even have a region’s name of where she was from.  
Diantha grumbled, looking around the room.  “I wish I had something to write with.”  Or at least had some way to keep track of what little they were able to put together. 
Switching hair chunks, Cynthia sighed.  “Cynthia…Elizabeth,” she said, the memory of a voice echoing the two names in her mind.  Whoever the voice belonged to, it gave her a small smile.  “Jenness,” she concluded. 
Like Diantha, though, she had no clue who her family name was even tied to.  No memory.  No faces.  Nothing.  Just a faint voice that she assumed belonged to a woman, but she wasn’t entirely sure.  Someone with a higher pitch, but raspy voice, like they had spent a number of years in their life smoking. 
“I want to say I’m 28,” Cynthia continued.  Another odd thing to be unsure of. 
“I think I’m 30–” She laughed at the absurdity of it.  “Being so unsure of the self– aren’t I the one person I should know better than anyone?” 
Cynthia laughed in turn, looking off to the side.  “You’re telling me,” was all she could think to say.  
“This is…” Diantha’s voice softened.  “This is terrifying,” she admitted, hugging her legs to herself.  The room around them had begun to chill, and the bedding below her wasn’t much warmer.  “They’re all acting so cavalier about our situation…” 
Cynthia winced as she snagged a smaller knot.  “At least Akari seems to understand a bit of how messed up this is,” she said, forcing a laugh.  Apart from Diantha, she was probably the only person she felt any overt kinship with –even if it was likely one sided. 
Diantha hummed.  “You know– I wanted to be upset with her.  All her obvious prodding and dryness– but I think I’m actually more appreciative of her bluntness.  Cyllene seems to understand as well –though…maybe,” she said.  Cyllene had been too hard for her to get a good read on.  All she knew was that she was a woman to tread lightly around.  Especially given she seemed to be the one deciding their fates. 
“I think she’s just more concerned about having extra mouths to feed,” Cynthia said with a shake of her head.  
“I want to know why that professor is so…eager for us to join their –Survey Team, was it?” she asked.  
“Corps, I think? I don’t know,” she said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, hands too tired from the old angle to continue. “I’m just frustrated that he seems to be the only one able to verify how we even got here.  He can say he’s a scientist who is only interested in facts all he wants–he’s still a complete stranger,” she said. 
“I mean,” Diantha began, amusement in her tone.  “You and I are complete strangers to one another as well,” she pointed out. 
Looking up at her, she swallowed her anxiety as best she could.  “Then why do I feel like I know you?” she asked, feeling her heart skip a quick beat.  The unintended emphasis– she hadn’t meant for it, but now that it had been put out there, she was finding herself worrying about the answer.  
Diantha held her gaze for a moment.  So close and finally alone, it gave her a chance to really peer into the grey depths.  A shimmering silver, flecks of darker greys in the mix– the slenderness of her face as a whole, all in combination with her hair that she could only assume was naturally platinum blonde.  She was finding her to be quite pretty.  
Pretty in a way that made Diantha realize she was very much attracted to women in some form or fashion. 
“I suppose for the same reason I feel as though I know you,” she said, more careful about her own emphasis.  
Silence followed, sitting between them, but not uncomfortably so.  
After a while of circling around what they at least knew in her mind, Cynthia remembered something they needed to talk about.  “Didn’t Laventon call us by different names at first– and those guards, too?”
She looked up, stretching her legs out to the side of herself.  “Right–I almost forgot about that…What were their names?” she asked. 
Cynthia grimaced.  “I think they called me…Volo?” she guessed.  It certainly wasn’t a name that left her with even a faint memory.  It couldn't have been a common name from wherever she was from.  “I can’t remember the name they called you.”
“I think it was Nox,” she said.  
It was at least nice sounding with her accent to Cynthia.  “Do we think…maybe we are cousins to them?” she asked. 
She shrugged, not entirely sold on the idea.  “I can’t say.  I haven’t the faintest clue of who my family was.  I know my family name–but nothing beyond that.  I couldn't tell you the first thing about the Ruston family.”
Feeling a yawn creeping up on her, Cynthia waited for it to pass, taking a moment to lie down on her side.  The mat wasn’t all that comfortable, but it at least seemed better than the cold hard ground.  “Can’t say I know anything about the Jenness name, either…” 
Diantha laughed in the middle of her own yawn.  “A perfect pair of strangers we make,” she said, reaching for the thin pillow.  It smelled clean– an herb of some kind.  
Lavender…?
“None of them said anything about a restroom of any sort, did they?” Diantha asked, dread creeping into her stomach. She at least got a small laugh watching Cynthia go through a few stages of grief at the realization. 
“They didn’t,” she said in a pained voice.  While she didn’t need to use the restroom now– what if she needed to in the middle of the night?  What about brushing her teeth…? 
“Do you think they have plumbing?” Diantha asked, rolling onto her back. 
“I think that’s enough questions for the night,” Cynthia said, reaching over for the thin blanket.  
She laughed, whole-heartedly.  “I don’t think I’m even close to being done,” she said, reaching for her own blanket. The wind audibly picked up outside, the room cooling even faster.  “Don’t get to brush my teeth.  Sleeping in clothes I’ve worn for who knows how long.” 
“No,” Cynthia said in a laugh. 
“For all we know this is an outhouse situation.” 
“Oh my god– no–” she whined.  Of all her dumb fears– she was reminded that it was one of them, and it was near the top of the list.  
“They’re either all bathing in that little stream or it’s a communal bath situation,” she said, laughing when Cynthia threw her arm over her face to cover her eyes.  “I can’t imagine they have plumbing like I’m thinking of.”
“Oh god– what if they don’t even bathe at all?” Cynthia asked, moving to sit up on her elbow.  
“I can tell I’m a priss– I would have noticed if any of them were smelly.  I think we can at least assume they bathe,” she said, rolling onto her side to look at Cynthia.  
“This is the worst night of my life– thank you,” she said, her tone indicating that she was clearly lying. 
Diantha laughed, curling herself up to get as much of herself under the thin blanket as she could.  “And just think– you’re stuck with me.  For now at least,” she teased. 
Cynthia grumbled again, settling herself back down.  “This goes both ways– you’re stuck with me, too.” 
She laughed, a tiny snort in there somewhere that had they not just been discussing the village’s plumbing status, Cynthia would have probably thought was cute.  “Something tells me you’re not the worst person to be stuck with.” 
“There’s probably better people to be stuck with,” Cynthia said, shuffling around to unfold the blanket.  Folded in half, it wasn’t long enough to cover her completely.  Being taller than anyone she had seen all day, she figured the blankets weren’t made with someone of her height in mind.  An outlier who didn’t need to be considered because it would be a waste of fabric otherwise. 
Diantha hummed, pulling what she could of her blanket up over her head.  One of the belt hoops in her jeans was digging into her hip.  She wished she had some sort of proper night clothes to sleep in.  Skinny jeans weren’t exactly the most comfortable clothing option –but then again, she didn’t have any other options.  It wasn’t nearly warm enough to sleep without them, nevermind the part where she was sleeping in the company of someone else.  
“Something tells me I’m glad I’m stuck with you,” she said.  She hoped whatever that something was could be trusted.  
Cynthia only hoped she could live up to that.  
Silence fell between them once again as they tried to get comfortable.  The wind picked up now and again, the structure below them cracking and popping.  Not in a way that made them worry it would collapse or be damaged by the wind, but certainly enough to make them jolt awake each time it happened.  
Somewhere in the midst of it all, Cynthia finally was able to fall asleep.  The wind had enough of a lull that she was able to shut her eyes and get some sleep.  It wouldn't last for long, however.  
In the middle of the night, a loud gust of wind that caused another loud crack, combined with some movement from Diantha’s side of the room woke her up.  The room was ark, their oil lamp from earlier having gone out on its own with the wick not being turned.  
Through her limited sight, she could just barely make out Diantha curled up on herself, a death grip on her blanket, shivering.  
“Are you alright?” Cynthia asked, leaning up from her small pocket of warmth.  The room was freezing.  DIantha had already complained about the cold over dinner– and clearly it hadn’t gotten any better. 
“Freezing,’ she answered, voice strained.  
Cynthia looked around the room, unable to see any extra bedding or blankets to offer her.  Still exhausted, her mind struggled to keep up.  Only one idea came to mind.  She might have been shy about offering it, but the need to keep Diantha safe –including from the elements– outweighed that anxiety. 
“I promise I don’t mean anything weird by this– but if we sleep next to each other–” 
“Please–” Diantha interrupted, a strain in her voice that sent sympathy pain through Cynthia’s chest.  
As quickly as she could, she got up and shoved all her things to be right next to her.  “Again, I don’t mean anything by this, but–” She wished her brain would just catch up so she could actually talk coherently. 
Thankfully, Diantha anticipated what she was getting at, moving to lay flush against her, sending a shiver up her own body.  She wasn’t just cold, she was freezing.  
Throwing her blanket over the both of them, she got Diantha to lean up just enough to get one arm under her neck, throating the other over her to hold her close.  “I’m sorry–” she said.  
Diantha shook her head, her nose tickling Cynthia’s collar.  
“Don’t– I’m too cold to care,” she said, nudging Cynthia’s legs to let her tangle theirs together.  “How are you so warm?” she asked. 
Cynthia breathed a laugh.  “Used to it, I guess…” 
Had it been any other moment, Cynthia would have called this far too intimate for complete strangers.  Something only two people very close would do –or two people hooking up, she supposed.  
But thankfully, her mind was able to let it go for the most part.  This wasn’t that sort of intimacy– it was the intimacy of two people in a bad situation trying to help one another through it.  
Curled up into her as much as she physically could, it was a while before the chill finally stopped rolling off her body, and another while before she stopped shivering all together.  
Cynthia’s arm had begun to fall asleep, but so had Diantha.  Slow, heavier breaths.  A soft twitch here and there. Completely out. 
It brought a soft smile to Cynthia’s face.  Her arm being completely asleep would have to be worth it.  Knowing Diantha was safe and warm– it was all she needed to finally be able to start falling back asleep on her own.  
Whatever trial Cyllene had for them come morning, they would face together.  
Sure, they had been joking and teasing earlier, but her last thoughts before falling back asleep echoed Diantha’s earlier sentiment, along with the professor’s.  She was glad they were “stuck” together, because together, they would figure out why they had been placed in such an odd setting.  And if there wasn’t any real reason, they would make a reason…
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van-zieksy · 2 years
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tumblr user ziekerville here, re: your gamer van zieks post, i propose a headcanon for you: lady baskerville is a lot better at dark souls/bloodborne/elden ring than klint is, and when he was streaming them, her super chats (idk i dont really use twitch) were full of tips for him to get better at the game, and she joined his discord server and immediately sent him a friend request and shared her screen with him giving him tips. also, i am very fond of the "they both pined for each other but they just so happened to rp their ocs as couples" headcanon too, but i am biased bc i do a lot of rp on world of warcraft
Hehe, I like this as a possible scenario! I can see Lady B teasing her husband about this for years to come in a very endearing way. Each year on their anniversary, they are playing the games Lady B helped him to get better at.
"Klint, darling, aren't you glad you were terrible at those games? Otherwise we may have never met."
"Are you saying you were only interested in me because I sucked at Bloodborne? What a cruel fate to befall any man..."
"Of course not, dear. I would have also taken a liking to you had you been bad at Mario or Kirby or whatnot."
So, if we assume that Lady B is better at games such as Dark Souls/Bloodborne/Elden Ring, then we need to find something Klint is better at. He's a highly accomplished streamer after all, so I think he learned to be great at pretty much anything. Being a prosecutor and all, let's say he excels at strategy games and at games that require logic, attentive thinking and problem-solving skills. Random games or franchises in no particular order: Final Fantasy, Fire Emblem, Zelda, Call of Duty, Starcraft, Diablo, Witcher, Little Big Planet, Shadow Tactics, Ace Attorney (of course) and so forth.
They both complement each other well and bring so much joy to their fans. :)
As for the second HC, I've never played World of Warcraft. :/ I can see them doing that in WoW for a while until Lady B decides to reach out to Klint via super chats during one of his streams. At first Klint doesn't know who she is (never having seen her face, only her OC), but then she gives him a not so subtle hint, "Klint, it's Lizzy from WoW! When are we finally going to meet in person? Krimmet is great and all. He and my Lady B definitely get along, but I finally want to see Klint in the flesh!"
(I adopted the name Elizabeth for Lady B, but I adore the name you have chosen for her—Rose—as well, maybe even a tad more.)
Klint and Lady B are precious. Thanks for reaching out! Have a great weekend.
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subcontrasoprano · 4 years
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Google's choice of images for describing kismet is really something else
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vidalinav · 3 years
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Nessian Headcanon #12: Family Edition
Since I keep seeing baby headcanons I wanted to make a list of my own :D which I’ve briefly touched on in other posts but...
Cassian and Nesta have a boatload of children (5 at the end of it all I think). The others start joking that they’re building their own army. But what really happens is that they end up taking in many children over the years because they travel often with the work they do and they see so many conditions and there’s wars and all sorts of circumstances. It’s inevitable that kids don’t have homes but they have a giant house and unending resources and the House is like a big nanny itself so they think it’s fate. 
Nesta is actually the one who brings most of the children home. The first one is a 9 year old girl, who is the angriest kid alive. Has something to do with the plot of a story I’m writing, but Nesta is basically entrusted with this kid. She’s the grand niece of someone she ends up knowing and she’s pretty magically powerful so her family would have ate her alive, so she’s asked to keep her safe and whatnot. Her name is Magda but she goes by Maggie. She does not like Cassian whatsoever in the beginning, and she is horribly rude to Nesta. But Nesta does not care at all, she’s like okay get it out, say worse. Like she’s so chill, because she knows how it feels to be that angry. Maggie and Nesta end up being really close to the point where Maggie does not like being away from Nesta and gets very protective of her even to other members of the IC. She’ll fight first and ask questions later. Cassian and her form a bond actually not by fighting at all, but because Maggie does so many experiments that end up going awry. She’s a fae and has got magic up the wazoo and she’s a book nerd, and she’s kind of a trouble maker, and Cassian thrives. He loves her because she’s like a smaller more diabolical version of Nesta. The House is amused by their antics usually. 
Nesta ends up getting pregnant for their second child and this kid is the only one they actually have on their own. Her name is Lyra, and Maggie thinks that it’s hilarious that Cassian lives in a house with all girls. Maggie is about 12 when they have her, and Maggie at first does not take kindly to Lyra, because she starts feeling like they have their own family and she’s just the kid who eventually is going to have to go back to her other family (because that’s a plot too that I won’t go into to) but they try so much to include her, because Maggie is their child. No question. Nesta ends up telling Cassian that she’s pregnant by giving him an enchanted painting, which is the work of all three Archeron sisters. Elain for seeing what the child would look like, Feyre for painting, and Nesta for enchanting it so that if they have more children the picture will get bigger and there will be room for Feyre to paint the others. So one big family portrait. In that picture, Maggie is tucked in between the two with the baby/toddler. Dark hair, big blue eyes... maybe hazel. Maybe one of each (I’m really not sure). The best parts of both Nesta and Cassian though. She’s so gorgeous. Prettiest little girl. But yeah going back to Maggie, they ask her during this picture time (probably solstice present time) if Maggie wants to be an Archeron. (Another headcanon for another time, but Cassian marries Nesta too and becomes an Acheron). So, does she want to do this? Absolutely, and at this point she already start calling them mom and dad and just referring to them as such, so that’s their kiddos. 
Third and fourth are siblings. They’re from the continent. Maggie is 14, Lyra is close to 2. The siblings are brought by Nesta who is doing some thing that I cannot say because I have not made it up yet, but she finds them at the scene of a Massacre in hiding. The oldest is close to 6, the other is probably 1-ish. The oldest will not let them take the baby from her. The baby is a boy. They don’t speak the common tongue, which is any issue, but they hire a tutor to both talk to the little girl and then also to teach them ALL (everyone in their household) the language that the two siblings speak as well as teach them how to speak the common Prythrian language. So everyone ends up learning. The little girl is taken under the wing of Maggie, who is the perfect older sister/camp counselor as she likes to refer to herself after there’s more kids. They don’t know her name for the LONGEST time, because she won’t speak at all, but she ends up loving Cassian because he makes her laugh and he brings her a thousand stuffed bears because at one point she won’t stop crying and he brings them home and makes funny voices with them, and carries her on his shoulders, and she has the sweetest giggle. But eventually they end up naming her Ursella which she ends up going by Ella when she gets older, because her nickname with Cassian is little bear. They do ask her later when she talks if she remembers her old name and her birthday since they don’t know, but she doesn’t say that she does, which may be a lie, but Ella happily goes by Ella, and they give her a choice to choose one random day in the year to be her birthday, but she chooses to celebrate her birthday on the day they brought her in. She calls it her re-birthday.
The baby boy they name Nico. It’s actually a common Illyrian name and Cassian knows that the little boy is technically not Illyrian but it is his first son, and he really wants to give him that piece of him. Cassian does ask him when he’s about 10 if he’d prefer a name that’s based on his own culture, because they make sure that’s very integrated in their home life, because of course Cassian loves his culture and Nesta has that anthropological eye, so she knows and learns so much and they just love their children so much that they want all of them, every piece that they come with. But Nico likes his name, and he’s his dads through and through. But he LOVES Nesta. He’s a momma’s boy for sure, which I guess just makes him similar to Cassian. He does not like learning though, so Nesta usually has to teach him herself instead of having tutors, and she spends extra time with him going through his lessons. Lyra and him grow up together closer to age, so they pick on each other A LOT, but ultimately they grow up to have that relationship like I can pick on you but no one else can. They’re super close. If you want one, you find the other. They both will be together somewhere making a mess of things. Ella is the one who usually is like would you please be loud somewhere else. She ends up getting into music--playing instruments and so she generally prefers quietness to study and practice. Violin is her forte. 
The next boy comes about 4 yrs later. Maggie is 18, Lyra is 6, Nico is 5/6 ish. Ella is 10. The boy is about 12. He’s Illyrian and Cassian finds him this time and takes him to Nesta first, but Nesta is like why are you asking lol this is our new son. He’s a “bastard” unfortunately. I hate that word. But he has learned to fight, Cassian found him in the fighting pits in an Illyrian camp a couple hours away from Windhaven, and the situation was so much like his except this kid was never given a home like he was. So, he spent a good couple of weeks trying to get on his good side enough for him to trust him and to want to go someplace safer and warm. He hates Cassian a lot at first... while at the same time being like you’re the hero I’ve heard about. So admiration but also a touch of resentment and anger at the world. Cassian doesn’t know what to do with that, because still to the day he does not handle emotion like Nesta does. He understands it but he doesn’t know what to say, what to do, his go to is always training, but training is not what this child needs. So again, this is Nesta’s forte. Interestingly enough, she’s very gentle with kids. She’s empathetic, soft, but not condescending. She gives everyone the same respect so it helps a lot when he sees that and he’s never had a mom before who tucks him in or makes sure he’s feeling well. His name is Julian. I forgot that part and it turns out he’s HATES fighting. But he really likes plants. So he ends up spending a lot of time with Elain when she visits. He’s fascinated by them and ends up having his own garden. But because Nesta is magical in this headcanon (because she’s more witchy in my fics) he learns A LOT about poisons. Not because Nesta teaches him, but because he finds her books and reads them and starts growing them. This becomes a problem, because when Julian doesn’t like his tutors or teachers, he starts trying to poison them. Like not killing them, but he knows which will give stomach aches, which will give rashes. Nesta is both proud and reprimanding. 
I do feel like they might have more, but I don’t know for now I feel this is good for their set family. Five in total for their first gaggle of children lol. But all of them are asked if they want to be an Archeron. All of them say yes. All of them have each other’s back even if they have screaming matches on the daily. The house is mostly chaotic at all times but the House loves having people in it and laughing and being filled to the brim with stuffed animals and train sets and plants and music and family members coming in and out since Nyx visits often because he’s an only child for a very long time with Feyre taking more of a position in court rulings and Rhysand just being generally busy because you know High Lord/High Lady stuff. I don’t see Feyre being a stay at home mom but I also don’t see Rhys being a stay at home dad, but they’re also rulers so I peg them for both being working parents, which they feel guilty about A LOT at first, and it’s something that they struggle with in the confines of their own identities and their relationship, because they love Nyx and they know they’re parents but that’s not all they are, and without having the gender role of one parent staying home it’s very difficult for them to both rule, but Rhys does not want to stop being a high lord and Feyre is bored too often and she wants to rule and she knows she can, and she has that title for a reason and wants to utilize it. So it’s a hard time, with lots of arguments, but Nyx ends up mostly going with Cassian for a good amount of the day when he’s older and they have more kids in the house, and Nyx doesn’t really know that Feyre and Rhys had this problem, because he’d just prefer to be around the other kids and it ends up working really well. 
Cassian ends up being more of the stay at home parent. I don’t know why but I feel he just gives me that vibe where forget the courtier business, if there’s no war and if the armies are generally taken care of which he does, he wants to stay home and raise his kids, which is very surprising since he’s the one who doesn’t ever take vacations. He wants to be there for every moment no matter how awkward or loud. That’s his family and he’s waited so long for them, and it’s not even about him not having that family early on, it’s because he genuinely would rather be with his kids. He’s the one who as soon as they got the siblings was like I’m going to have to take a step back, because he saw his kids every day but he just didn’t want to be away for long periods of time, and at that point he’d already taken several steps back on working, so it became more of a done deal then. He still is the general, but he gives more responsibility to Devlon and to other people he’s trained over the years to step up. So generally, Cassian will work a couple of days a week for a couple of hours or just go quickly in the evenings, go over reports if the kids are in class with their teachers, and more during certain times of the year, but he’s generally more of a family man. 
Nesta in my fic/headcanon ends up being a queen as well as a leader of the witches and the founder/leader of the Valkyrie and she owns a shipping company and she’s the cauldron’s guardian which don’t ask me to explain, it’s in this fic I’ve barely written. But she’s a “I can bake the cake and eat it too” type of person to me, and because of her magic it is easy for her to do it all because it’s like a full time job. She goes home after a certain hour and she’s back with her kiddos, and most of her jobs have other people who have a handle on things as well. So she’s not an island, but she loves having the purpose and the drive, because as much as she did like being in the library and being in Velaris and having that day to day slice of life, she likes and yearns for adventure. She’s a go-getter and is not necessarily ambitious for power, but she’s got the whole world to discover and she can have anything she’s willing to work for. She wants to be and see it all. Cassian is endlessly proud of her and is like that’s my mate, my wife. My mate. My wife. And they both end up getting what they want without having to sacrifice their own ideals. Their marriage is a collaboration and it ends up working phenomenally for the two of them and their children. 
But ultimately it’s really the House that makes it possible. Because who cooks food and cleans and supplies every need and wish and whatnot? The House. Who baby proofs? The House. The House is like I’ve always wanted a big family and boy does it get a big family. 
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forgottenyogurtgods · 3 years
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Summary: Robin Hood AU. (Sort of.) After her father is arrested for harboring and aiding the wanted criminal Chat Noir, Marinette must seek him out or lose her father to a crime he did not commit.
Noblesse Oblige
Chapitre huit 
Following The Leader
Marinette felt his words pierce straight through her heart. Help him capture Chat Noir? Would it really be that easy?
It would. The stray cat – for some reason or another – seemed to like her. Luring him away from his Green Men would be easy enough…
But his Green Men! She knew many of them. They were honest to God, good people. They wouldn't hurt a living thing. Would his capture condemn them to the same or worse fate?
She was about to ask when the door opened.
“Felix, I wanted to talk to you about – oh.” 
Standing in the doorway was his fiancée. Up close, the young woman was inordinately beautiful. She looked roughly the same age as Marinette. Her dark hair was pulled neatly back and made her face look sharp and elegant. Her moss green eyes had a clear view of the room.
The woman took one look at Marinette and frowned. She withdrew a small dagger from the folds of her skirt and stalked straight toward the bound girl. 
She hefted up the bound wrists and… cut right through the rope. Her grip on Marinette was soft but firm, sort of kind if nothing else. She pulled Marinette to her feet.
“Really, your men should know better than to bind an innocent girl,” she said, letting go of Marinette’s slender wrists. “It's not as if she committed some sort of crime.”
One of the guards started to protest, but he stopped when the lady shot him a glare that sent ice running through Marinette’s veins. She didn’t pity the man.
The woman held out a hand to Marinette, her face melting into something of concern.
“Come along,” she said. “I would rather not leave you with these… mockingstocks.”
Marinette accepted the hand and allowed herself to be pulled out of the room. Before she could leave, however, she was stopped by the duke’s voice.
“Damoiselle Marinette,” he said, “think about my offer. I'll be awaiting your answer.”
The woman snapped the door shut, cutting off her fiancé from saying anything further. The agitated look on her face spoke more than any words could.
“Idiot,” she said, hissing. Seeing the look Marinette was giving her, she brushed back an imaginary loose strand of hair and straightened. “Not you, damoiselle. My fiancé and his guards. They're all idiots. How could he? What does he think you've done?”
“He believes that I've befriended the vigilante, Chat Noir,” Marinette said softly, feeling admonished despite the other woman’s anger being targeted towards others.
“And have you?”
“Not really, no. But he won't leave me alone. He came to my bedroom last night.”
The woman snorted.
“A lover?”
Marinette felt herself flush. Well that was an... interesting assumption, to say the least. The woman chuckled starting in one direction down the hallway. Marinette followed after her.
“You're the baker’s daughter, correct? I thought I recognized you. The bread you and your mother make is lovely. I don't think we could get something of that quality in Paris.”
“Oh, um, thank you. My lady.”
“Lila,” the woman said, wagging a long, elegant finger at her. “My name is Lila. I hate formal titles, no ‘my lady’ or whatnot.”
“I… Marinette. I'm called Marinette.”
“Yes, I heard. It's a lovely name. I've always liked names that begin with ‘M’. I also like names that begin with ‘A’. There's something powerful about them.” Lila hummed and kept walking. She turned down a different corridor and disappeared. “Unlike names that begin with ‘F’ or ‘R’. Really, who names their child Roald? That was that guard’s name, Roald.”
Marinette quickly followed after her, listening to the fabrics of her skirts whisper across the ground.
“Excuse me, my… Lila,” Marinette said, correcting herself. “Where are we going?”
“I'm leading you out of the manor so you can head home. I trust you can make it there just fine? I recall an ankle or foot injury…”
Honestly, she hadn't even thought about the stupid injury in a couple of hours. At the mention of it, however, a persistent throb started up.
“I'll be fine,” she said. The boulangerie wasn’t too far from the manor. Back when she was little, the servants used their oven to make food for the duke’s family. They had picked it up again since Felix Agreste had arrived, but she hadn’t spent much time at the boulangerie to really watch them.
“Good. I'd rather not have to send guards with you. They can't really be trusted.”
Marinette wanted to ask what she meant by that, but she never got the chance. They reached the gates quicker than she'd anticipated.
“I'll leave you here, mademoiselle,” Lila said, nodding. “It's not too late, so you should make it home with no problems.”
Marinette curtsied – really, a failed attempt at being graceful – but the fine lady didn't seem to mind. The guards standing at the gates looked unimpressed, however, but they said nothing.
She slipped out into the night knowing she had to do one thing: She had to talk to Alya.
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itonje · 3 years
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so. samira and the violet knight’s story is kind of a big riff on sir gawain and the green knight (very obvious) in which a young, starry eyed person encounters a mystical knight of a Certain Color who has a Secret Identity and a Giant Axe and also kind of loses their starry eyedness and becomes super bitter and jokerfied in the process idk but i am telling my own story here so there’s a lot of differences. like there’s no homoeroticism unlike sgatgk or kissing or sexual themes because the violet knight and samira are mother and child that’s the big twist ! actually, there IS an arthurian medieval story where the beheaded magical knight turns out to be the protagonists father lmfao so like. i have a precedent here. 
anyways, how it’s set up is that samira only knows what her mother looks like through one painting of her father’s she discovers, an stormlander woman (stormlander is like. fantasy filipino ethnicity idfk give me a break) who has her face, in a white dress, standing against a cloudy, stormy, sky. she has heard many stories about her though. around this time samira recounts the story of flors and blanchefleur btw there are Connections here. later, when she travels to the island where her mother is from to like, reconnect with her roots and put her heart to peace or whatever so she can do this magic thing cause she’s distracted by grief and pain or whatever okay it’s a very convoluted thing but anyways. she hears of this strange renegade knight who aids people in need, someone who came over from the continent where samira is from, and who has a plethora of backstories attached to them. 
one night, during a lightning storm, samira gets into some deep shit and is rescued by this knight, dressed all in purple, and after the storm is over samira asks if she can tag along with the knight (who she learns is a woman) for a while while she works on her magic thing or whatever. and the knight is like. fine. 
and then the violet knight realizes samira is absolute shit at fighting and walking and doing most anything (’i’m an artiste, ma’am, you just wouldn’t understand!’) and she’s like. okay. you. we’re going to try to get you like. buffer or whatever you’re absolutely incompetent and you will die even if we don’t get caught by robbers or villains or whatever so she also offers to train her in some like basic skills like horse riding, and basic combat so she doesn’t get robbed or killed or whatnot. and they go on a lot of like adventures like this, getting closer and closer, but samira still yearns to find out what happened to her mother, and the violet knight is still very vague about where she came from. and they don’t get along at first but they have like a slow burn like friendship they start to become more endeared to each other as time goes on. they’re just like each other, actually. 
now, samira is the daughter of an evil traitor murder man, so she won’t say anything about her father’s identity because she’s done that in the past and people have tried to kill or threaten or shun her for it before, and she doesn’t want to ruin her relationship with the knight she’s seeing as a bit of a parental figure at this point, but she learns slowly that the knight was a knight under the empire, and fucking hated it and hated the empire and was like kidnapped as a child or whatever. the knight is a stormlander natively, and she returned here after the empire fell because she wanted to serve her people, but she doesn’t even speak like the language poor woman’s doing pretty poor for herself. she doesn’t like being a knight but believes its her fate that she’s doomed herself to it (dark backstory samira doesn’t understand, the violet knight leaves hints she had a family or something like it before this all, but something Happened to them)
anyways, samira starts to have these strange dreams, where she sees her mother, or the woman in white in the painting she saw, standing under a purple stormy sky in violet rain. then, after she finally manages to strike the violet knight while they’re training together, the lady in her dreams gives her a white flower, an oleander. this happens two more times, each after she strikes the knight. 
then, eventually, at the climax of the book they have like a cool cooperative battle together and afterwards the knight is like. you know. i’m not a queen. but would you like to be knighted? and samira is like oh fuck no i respect you, but training under you you told me how horrible the knight order was so i don’t want to take part in that i’ll just be skilled thanks and the violet knight is like. i am so proud of you i hoped you would say that so they celebrate and have a cute little toasting or whatever to samira Not being knighted. 
then, during this celebration, samira is like, you know. my father said he only ever liked one knight. (and she’s like in her mind oh they might have known each other the timeline matches up. maybe it was her). and then she’s like. so how do you feel about the evil traitor murder man who killed the king (aeetes, witch of the west) and the knight is like. god. we were friends. good friends (sardonic laugh because she’s like still trying to put on the mysterious tragic backstory thing). great that he killed the king sorry that he died doing so. and samira is like. well. actually. guess what. he didn’t die! he faked it. and i know this because. he raised me. he’s my dad!!
and the violet knight gets super super angry and she’s like oh how dare you say that are you trying to mock me are you trying to hurt me what do you know and samira gets super angry too and she’s like okay well look at this sword and look at this cloak and look at this and that he made this he gave this to me he was my father. and then the knight is like. hold on. you’re half iloro. how old are you? and samira’s like ‘i was born the night the empire fell’ and the knight starts like shaking and laughing and sobbing and samira’s like what is it what’s wrong what happened and the knight peels back her helm to reveal a face that samira’s seen before. in the painting. in the mirror. ruh roh! 
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nouru-vi · 3 years
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Headcanons for my AFK Arena gang buckle the f up
Disclaimer: I take canon lore/relationships and throw out what I don’t like thank you have a nice day
Starter pack: Estrilda, Mirael and Nemora
Nemora is sent by the Wilders to help out Ranhorn City and these three stick together going forward
Estrilda and Mirael are in idiot lesbians with each other. They constantly try to impress the other and Nemora is in the bg facepalming but she also ships them hard secretly
The gang is sent to hunt down Lucretia who is rampaging indiscriminately through the countryside and they manage to subdue and capture her. As they’re bringing her back to Ranhorn, Nemora keeps drawing info out of her through treating her kindly, and learns her story. Then they’re attacked by a large group of Maulers or sg, and Lucy demands that they unchain her if they want to live (lbr she has to be chained and not tied), adding that she also refuses to die tied up. Nemora chooses to trust her and she helps them make it out alive. Then they’re like “okay this Zaphrael dude sounds like a complete dick and we’ll help you confront him when we find him and also you can stay with us, we won’t bring you to Ranhorn to be imprisoned/executed. No more rampaging tho” and that’s how Lucy becomes the local goth mom
Silvina is sent to assassinate Estrilda, to finish off the job of destroying the Raynes, but when she sees her, memories come back to her from before her death, when she saw the young Estrilda as the girl she never got to be. She is like “fuck this I’m not doing this” and realises it’s time to stand up to Vedan’s exploitation of her and Isabella, if not for her own sake but her sister’s. She confronts Estrilda and pleads her to help remove Isabella from Vedan’s clutches. Her and the team go to do that and Isabella doesn’t really understand at first but when Vedan hurts Silvina she’s like “Back off. I made you what you are, don’t think I can’t unmake you just the same.” Now outclassed, Vedan is forced to let them go, and the sisters join the gang. Lucretia is immediately like “I’m your mom now”
Bonus: months later Vedan shows up to be like “Please forgive me. I never knew what I had until I lost it, I treated you two like crap even though you were the closest thing to family I had! Pls come back to me T_T” and although they don’t do that they agree to let him visit sometimes, so he becomes their weird weekend dad. Lucy watches him like a hawk every single time but he tries his best (I added this HC as an afterthought because the official comics with Vedan and the girls are just too fucking funny to be non-canon)
Wu Kong helps out the team on and off and Lucy hates him because he’s a FILTHY CELESTIAL while he’s just like, lady im am just leetl monky. I’m new to being a Celestial actually and don’t even know this Zaphirel or whatshisface. I’m just here to punch bad guys and have a good time. But he also annoys her for fun because he’s just like that
Lyca joins the team as a somewhat more competent co-leader to Mirael. To Nemora’s relief, because she’s the only other person so far who is not a mess or dumb or both. Silvina develops a mega gay crush on her because she’s the bouncy nerd prep to her emo jock goth. It probably takes a very long time for this to come to the surface because she is a Disgusting Graveborn and Lyca is a Beautiful and Ethereal Wilder, according to Silvina, that is. Her concerns turn out to be baseless, of course, and then they’re cute and gay, The End
Solise joins to swell the ranks of people who are both dumb and a mess. She’s powerful though and a great alchemist, and adorable and everyone else is sapphic so go figure
Flora also shows up often to help the group and Lucy is like HISS GRRR CELESTIAL HRRR GRRR at her too, while she’s just like, lady. It’s gonna be alright. You will find justice one day. Calm down. Here’s a flower bigger than your head. Have a nice day :) ~flies off on her gay little flower broom into the sunset gayly~
Certain groups catch wind of Lucretia travelling with the group and as a result, Cecilia is sent after them. Since Lucy is family by this point, they’re forced to fight and subdue Cecilia. She gets injured and they’re unwilling to leave her to her fate, so they bring her along as she recovers. For a long time, she keeps going on about heretics cavorting with Hypogean filth and whatnot, but what’s this? Lucy is around, and although Cecilia can’t see her, her voice is inexplicably pleasant to hear, and she’s just so nice to those two girls! But surely that is the insidious deception of a treacherous Hypogean, seeking to corrupt every innocent soul, right? Surely she is not a loving mother, nor a valiant woman who will do anything for the sake of justice? Right??? (yeah spoiler they end up in gays and the sisters now have two mothers and a dad. They deserve all the parents)
One day the gang stumbles upon Torne and they collectively adopt them immediately. They’re big and smad and in need of hugs and therapy so the group is happy to provide.
Nara joins from time to time, apparently because she just enjoys carnage, regardless of the target. She’s a gross and unhinged gremlin who’s somehow still hot, and her idea of humour is “bet I can kick a dead baby further than any of you”, but she’s pretty upbeat and more or less tolerated by the others. Things become awkward when the group finds out she used to be a crime boss and would-be slaver in life. She says something like “well, am I not allowed to make a new start?”, but she does have the decency to look embarrassed at least. Someone says “maybe she just wanted friends for once” and Nara throws them the most maybe so look of the century
There are some other heroes that I have yet to figure out how to work into the group dynamics and story, like Grezhul for example, as he’s one of my most used heroes now, or Oden, who has also become one of my faves. I do know Oden absolutely makes dad jokes, for a start.
That’s it so far, notice how all of these are wholesome and mostly gay? Yea that is how I roll. The AFK heroes have suffered enough in canon, only positive vibes around here and also I’m queer as shit bye
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rhetoricalrogue · 3 years
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31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 27
Prompt: Unkempt Rating: PG-ish? Nicky may have thrown an F-bomb or two around, I can’t remember. Words: 3,271 Characters: Nicolo Morelli, Elaine from Records Summary: Nicky is about to have words for some agents who can’t spell properly.
For the @31daysofwayhaven event.
Nicky was many things: a charming man with a reputation with the ladies, a loyal team member adept at technology and stealth, a man who prided himself in keeping up with the latest fashions.  What Nicky wasn’t was a patient man when it came to proofreading documents, especially documents that were supposed to have been written by people who knew what they were doing.
“This is unacceptable,” he growled, swiveling in the office chair he’d been assigned to.  He wasn’t much of a day drinker by any means, but he suddenly craved something to vent his frustrations on as he went through the fifth document of the morning.  
It was only nine.  He still had an entire stack of paperwork he was expected to complete by lunch piled high on his inbox and who knew how many files in his email.  He needed more coffee.  The office building he was in could only be described as bland, and even that was by Agency standards. Normally, the rest of the Facility was a uniform neutral done up in white paint and stainless steel, but this looked as if someone had gone back in time, snipped off a portion of the seventies, and whisked it back to the present day.  Beige walls and dark brown carpet assaulted his sensibilities.  Even the very air seemed to smell of old toner - Nicky was certain that purple ditto sheets reeking of methanol and isopropanol had gone the way of the dinosaur, but then again, this was the Agency.  There was probably a reason an early era Xerox printer was still being used, and as inquisitive as he was, Nicky wasn’t going to try to investigate.  He was merely lucky that there was a computer hooked up to his desk, even if it was an ancient yellow box of an Apple Macintosh from the 80s that somehow had Microsoft Word installed on it.  Again, he wasn’t going to question it, even if he did nervously glance down at his phone on multiple occasions to see if there was something in the office or perhaps the office itself that would transform his latest phone upgrade into a brick bag phone.
God, he’d hated that era of early technology.  Everything had been so goddamn expensive and it was comical to see the cutting technology of the day compared to now.  
“Welcome to my world.”  Nicky peered around the plain grayish beige partition of his cubicle - a cubicle!  The demotion from Charlie to Delta was irritating enough, but to have to go through an entire probationary period before being able to get back onto the sort of fieldwork that his unit was used to performing was downright galling. - that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and watched as a tall, sturdy looking woman sat down in the cubicle next to his and sighed.  At first glance, Nicky wouldn’t have thought that she belonged in an office setting. Trolls normally weren’t the types that came to mind when one thought about what a clerical staff would look like.  Yet apparently Elaine was one of the best and fastest proofreaders in the Agency, shooting up from ground level staff to managerial level quicker than anyone would have thought, troll or not.  Nicky hadn’t worked with her before, but he had worked with trolls in the past, so her craggy gray skin and over seven feet height didn’t put him off.  She walked and sat with a hunch, to make herself smaller in the environment or if that was purely her nature, Nicky didn’t know, but her lichen colored hair was done up in a neat bun atop her hair and the tips of her fingers were painted a bright coral color that matched her lipstick.  On anyone else, the color would have looked garish, but she seemed to pull it off well.
Elaine didn’t normally have a cubicle, her glass encased office was down the hall, but one of the other proofreaders had called in sick and she had decided it was easier to complete the workload at their desk instead of hauling it over to hers.  It meant that the space wasn’t quite suited to fit her, the cubicle walls short enough that the top of her head was clearly visible over them and her knees bumped the top of the desk if she wasn’t careful.  Nicky had already heard her mutter curses under her breath at least four times that morning alone and hoped she wouldn’t bruise her kneecaps before the day was done.  The permanent scowl her mouth was set in while she worked seemed completely out of place in the cubicle: the actual owner had a thing for bright pink office supplies and the little poster of a kitten hanging onto a branch emblazoned with a “hang in there, baby!” at the bottom definitely seemed like it wasn’t her sort of decor.
“Is it always this bad?” he asked, changing the spelling and punctuation in a paragraph that a toddler could have written better.  He tisked, he knew this agent and hadn’t thought they were capable of this...this monstrosity.  He was going to have to have words with them once his time in purgatory was up.  Not for the first time since agreeing to this sort of punishment, Nicky wished that he had swapped spots with Cam and taken on the rookie agent field assignments instead.
“Sometimes it’s worse.”  Her fingers flew across the keyboard, editing as she went.  “If it makes you feel any better, Morelli, I’ve never seen any of your reports cross my desk.”
He scoffed before getting up to the little breakroom, the brown low pile carpeting making way for white vinyl linoleum spattered with black and beige speckles.  “I should hope not.  I look over my reports for typos at least twice with a fine toothed comb before I turn them in.”
“And you still get them done in a timely manner, I’m impressed.”
He came back with a cup of coffee.  It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was hot and at least whoever had made the last pot had made it strong.  “What can I say? I’m quick, efficient, and I get the job done right the first time.”
There was a sound from the cubicle almost as if someone were crushing gravel.  It took Nicky a split second to realize that was Elaine laughing.  “Sounds like the ideal traits for a troll mate,” she joked.  “Careful, lest I think you’re trying to come on to me.”
Nicky grinned, though he was inwardly running through his mental catalogue of supernatural mating habits and blanched at what he dragged up.  Apparently trolls had a use ‘em and lose ‘em mentality when it came to their partners.  The lose part was when they bit off their heads and had them for a post-coital snack.  “Now, now,” he said, holding up his hands defensively.  “As much as I would like to, I am a married man!”
That gravel noise sounded again, even as Elaine’s fingers continued to clack on the keyboard. “Ha!  Good one, Morelli!  Pull the other leg while you’re at it!”
“No, it’s true!  And believe me, it’s just as much a surprise to me as it is to everyone else!”  It had been a week since coming back from Chicago where Isabela had apparently made her home.  Communications with her were still in this strange state - how did one text one’s estranged wife romantically without it boiling down to looking like a booty call or an invitation to send nudes, especially when one’s long-lost spouse was prone to stabbing and spellcraft?  Seeing that Isabela had already hexed certain body parts of his before, Nicky was careful of his wording, lest his best feature downstairs suffer a second cursed fate.
At least she was responding favorably to his texts, even if his buongiorno, Bella the other day had been answered with a slightly grumpy it is five in the morning, Nicolo.  Even so, he’d treasured the picture she added: Isabela in her bedroom, hair sleep-tousled and unkempt, eyes still half-lidded and sleepy looking, lips slightly pursed and cheek pressed against her pillow.
It had become his phone’s home screen almost instantly. 
He should just wear her down enough to give him her email address.  At least then he could take his time and compose honest to goodness love letters to her, even if they weren’t of the pen and paper variety, instead of having to rely on quickly creating off the cuff compositions that while expressed his sentiments were still a little unpolished.
For someone who hadn’t seen himself as the type of man that was willing to settle down with one woman, Nicky was sure taking the whole matrimony against his will, being magically bound to one woman for all eternity, having knowledge that he’d fathered a child and was currently a grandfather dumped into his lap not even two months ago pretty well.  Having this time away from fieldwork and actual missions gave him time for introspection and the fact that his daughter - and how that still had him reeling! - texted him at least once a day to catch him up on her life gave him a warm feeling in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, if ever.  Nicky made a mental note to invest in one of those silicone wedding bands.  Gold and other metals weren’t the best to wear out in the field and while his body regenerated severed limbs and whatnot, he really wasn’t interested in accidentally getting a finger crushed or torn off when his hand ultimately got stuck in a door or some other scenario that had already come up several times in the past.  Fingers grew back.  Fingers also hurt like no one’s business when they were lost and while they grew back.  He would like to avoid either scenario as much as possible.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  Would sending his wife an unsolicited picture of his hand while wearing a wedding ring count as flirting?  While the tone to their texts had been amiable if not a little icy at times, perhaps the gesture would endear him to her a little bit.  He grinned.  Maybe it would even earn him an actual phone call.  His grin widened.  Perhaps, if he played his cards right, the phone call would change from talking about the weather to more steamier topics.
His grin faltered.  He wondered what would happen between him and Isabela.  While they had only known the other for a paltry week three hundred years ago, Nicky knew when a woman was interested in him but playing hard to get.  But what would happen when she decided that he’d suffered long enough, when he’d taken another flight to grovel for her forgiveness at her front door like she said she’d wanted him to do?  He was an agent, it was the only life that he’d known since being scooped up, shell shocked and horrified at being brought back to life after being murdered and left to rot in a ditch.  He had a life here with the Agency, had a deep loyalty to his unit, surely she wouldn’t expect him to leave it behind to run away from his responsibilities with her?  And what of her?  She was settled in one spot, she had people of her own that were important to her.  He couldn’t ask her to leave that life behind, wouldn’t ask her to leave that life behind, in favor of joining up with the Agency so they could share a cramped windowless room with a narrow full-size bed. 
Nicky thought back to her cottage with its iron fence and little backyard garden.  Granted, he hadn’t gotten to see the interior of her home very well, seeing as she had stabbed him to death in her kitchen and then shoved him out the back porch, he knew that he wouldn’t want her to trade that life for one here, even if it meant that all their relationship - or whatever this was that they were starting could be called - would ever be merely good morning and good evening texts with brief visits when vacation time was allotted and FaceTime calls filling up the spaces in between. 
“You’re spacing out.  Daydreaming isn’t going to get that pile of work done.”  Nicky blinked and sighed as Elaine looked at him from over the partition.  Then he growled, realizing that in the brief moment he had taken to think of Isabela, the work in his virtual inbox had doubled in size.
“No one deserves this kind of torture,” he grumbled, fingers all but slamming on the keys as he corrected “teh” to “the” for the umpteenth time and formatted the entire document to full justification.  Did no one know how to write a proper office memo?
“Eh, it pays well.”  Elaine got up, shoulders bunched up to her ears and back hunched so she wouldn’t risk brushing the white drop ceiling tiles - tiles Nicky was sure contained asbestos - and made her way to his desk.  Before he could say anything, she grabbed the physical files in his to file inbox and made her way over to the wall of dark grey metal filing cabinets.  She’d explained on his first day in the department that they weren’t actual filing cabinets, but magical portals to deliver each report to its intended recipient.  “Some of us aren’t fit for field duty, so reading badly written reports is the closest we’re ever going to get to the action.”
“Aw, come on, Elaine.”  Nicky hit print and deleted the file, moving on to the next.  Sure, he understood the whole paper trail as means of securing Agency secrets from getting spilled, but really, all one had to do was get a strong enough firewall and other cybersecurity options and none of this transcribing digital to print would have to happen.  He eyed the file cabinets.  It wouldn’t take someone with enough skill to break through the security wards to change just where those files ended up to either.
Besides, there was a major loophole in Agency logic: if all the reports were done in the field via laptops or tablets, then what was stopping anyone from leaking company secrets at that level?  Somehow, the bureaucratic nature of even having this department, even with the older technology on hand, seemed inefficient and redundant. 
Oh well, at least no one was making Nicky type handwritten field notes and reports on an actual typewriter.  He was a good typist, but not good enough to avoid going through his share of correction tape and white-out.  The backspace key was his friend, one that he could not do without.
“What?”  Elaine picked up the report from the copier and made her way towards the file cabinet again.  
“I’m just saying, I bet you would be a formidable Agent out in the field.”
She rolled her eyes.  “No can do, Morelli.  Apparently the powers that be came to the conclusion that my aptitude tests put me at a higher risk of accidental exposure via bloodletting.”  She went back to her cubicle and began typing again.  “The risk of collateral damage would be too high to let me loose in the world.”
“Yeah, I could see that being a big minus on the pros and cons of getting you into field agent status.”
“Hey, I’m happy where I’m at.  I’m being helpful and not causing havoc under some bridge or underpass somewhere.  It’s a win-win situation.”  She sat back down at the desk, cursing when her knee banged into the desktop hard enough to make the little fake plant that was activated by the overhead lighting wobble precariously on the cute clip-on cubicle wall shelf.  “You though?”
“What about me?”
She paused in her typing.  “You don’t belong in an office tied to a desk.  Those powers that be?  I say they did your unit dirty.”
Nicky shrugged.  “Yeah, well, we win as a team and we make mistakes as a team.  We wouldn’t leave one of us out to dry that way.”
Elaine leaned forward.  “And I read the report that another unit gave about the whole incident.  Hell, it was so full of typos that I’m pretty damn sure it was meant for me to read.  Exiling Agent Adams, especially with no way of fending for herself when it comes to regaining her energy?  Demoting your entire unit?  Something smells distinctly like bullshit.”
Nicky sagged in his desk chair.  “Fuck.  And here I thought it was just me being my usual paranoid self.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “It’s just that I can’t find any evidence that would suggest why anyone would set Win up to fail that way.  And I definitely can’t find any evidence that would suggest why, knowing the way that Cam leads our unit and how loyal we are to the other, that anyone would want to take us out of commission.  It wasn’t the old Delta unit, they fought being promoted to Charlie the entire way, and no one jumped up to try to play unit ranking hopscotch either.”
“I wish I could tell you something, I really do.  All I know is that my gut is saying this isn’t right.”  She gave him a pointed look over the cubicle wall.  “It isn’t much, but I can keep my eyes peeled for any leads.”
He nodded.  “Thanks, but I don’t want to drag you into anything, especially if this turns out to be something big.”
“You’re not dragging me if I go willingly, Morelli.  While I may not be busting heads and whatnot out on the surface, let me do my own sort of carnage of the paperwork variety.  In the meantime, take an early lunch.”
“Elaine, it’s only nine fifteen.”
“Then take an early brunch.  I’ve already got myself caught up on my own paperwork and once I get this stuff done, I’ll move onto your workstation.  That report that came in?  Hit up Agent Kline in Unit Foxtrot, see if they’ll give you any information.”  She winked.  “And I’ll understand if traffic was so bad that you couldn’t get back to the office today.  Just be sure to come in at regular time tomorrow morning.”
He got up and shrugged on his jacket, stuffing his phone back into an inner pocket.  “Thanks, Elaine.  You’re a doll.”
She made a vague shooing motion with her hand.  “Quiet, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.  And if you talk to her, tell Agent Adams hello.”
Nicky made his way out of the Records Department and strode down the labyrinthine hallways of the Facility.  It was a strange sense to step out of whatever time era the department was stuck in and step into a more modern hallway.  For a brief moment, Nicky almost preferred the archaic, not quite retro feel of the office instead.  Tugging on his jacket collar, he pulled out his phone.  Cam and Penny would want to hear what he discovered for themselves. 
As he strode down the empty hall, texting as he walked, he thought back to Elaine.  He made a mental note to make a trip topside that evening.  As thanks for helping shed some light on ideas that had been bothering him, he was buying her the best coffeemaker he could find to replace the sad, beaten up plastic and glass number that took up way too much space on the counter.
He’d even go out of his way to get her the good coffee beans.
9 notes · View notes
ryqoshay · 4 years
Text
How to Handle a Nico - Sunscreen
Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.8k Rating: T’ish? Time Frame: Summer break of Maki’s 2nd year of high school and Nico’s 1st year of college. Story Arc: "Beach Reunion" Sunscreen The No. 1 Masseuse in the Universe
Author’s Note: “Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ‘97: Wear sunscreen.” - Mary Schmich
Sorry, couldn’t help that; it remains one of my favorite inspirational things and I listen to Baz Luhrmann’s version of it when I’m feeling down.
In any case, neither Nico nor Maki are of the class of ‘97, but they nonetheless know the importance of wearing sunscreen. And that is the topic of this scene, as if the title didn’t give that away already.
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ARISEfan1: SUMMER REUNION TIME!!!
ARISEfan1: lets go to the beach!
NyaCat: the beach!
ARISEfan1: lets go swimming!
NyaCat: lets play volleyball!
LittleBirb: Let’s have a water gun fight!
ARISEfan1: no training allowed!
SonodaUmi: I didn’t say anything about training…
ARISEfan1: but i bet you were gonna!
RiceQueen: I’d like to split a watermelon
Niconii: That’s if I let you!
Elichika: We’re not recreating our PV, Nico
Niconii: Well why not?
Niconii: That was fun!
NishikinoMaki: You’re just saying that because you were the center
Niconii: That’s not true!
Niconii: And you know it, Maki-chan
Niconii: Nico knows how much fun Maki-chan had
Niconii: Nico also knows Maki-chan keeps those sunglasses as a memento
NishikinoMaki: Yes I still have them
NishikinoMaki: So what?
NishikinoMaki: You want to fight about it?
Elichika: Please don’t
Elichika: At least not in the main chatroom
SpiritualPower: Exactly. If you’re going to flirt, you should do so in person
NishikinoMaki: We’re not flirting!
Niconii: We’re not flirting!
Niconii: Geez, Nozomi
Niconii: Anyway, we could have fireworks again
NyaCat: fireworks nya!
ARISEfan1: fireworks!
SpiritualPower: Or we could sulk off to the side with a book
NishikinoMaki: What the heck?
NishikinoMaki: I wasn’t sulking then!
SpiritualPower: Oh?
SpiritualPower: I don’t recall saying you were, Maki-chan
Elichika: Nozomi…
ARISEfan1: ne makichan
ARISEfan1: can we us your vacation home again?
SonodaUmi: Honoka, we can’t always be asking Maki for such things
NishikinoMaki: Probably
NishikinoMaki: I’ll ask Mama
NishikinoMaki: One moment
NishikinoMaki: She said it’s fine
Niconii: That was quick
ARISEfan1: Woo!
Elichika: Even us?
NishikinoMaki: Of course you and Nozomi and Nico-chan
NishikinoMaki: It wouldn’t be much of a µ’s reunion without you
ARISEfan1: exactly!
ARISEfan1: we need everyone together!
ARISEfan1: µ’s beach reunion start!
“What’s wrong, Maki-chan?” Nico asked the redhead displaying a sour expression as she rummaged through her bag.
The group had arrived at the vacation home not too long ago and Honoka immediately insisted everyone change and head to the beach. So here they were, already listening to the waves on the shore and feeling the fresh breeze coming in from the sea. Umbrellas and chairs were being set up, as was a net for volleyball, but the redhead seemed preoccupied with something not directly involved with the rest of the group; as per usual.
“I can’t…” Maki replied, opening another area.
“You can’t…?”
“I… ughn…” Maki growled as she rezipped the pocket. “I can’t find my sunscreen.”
“I guess it can’t be helped.” Nico sighed. “Nico will let you use hers.”
“Really?” The younger girl looked up, all traces of frustration already evaporating. “Thanks, Nico-chan.”
By the gods, she’s cute. Nico willed her heart not to leap out of her chest at the sight of the sparkling violet eyes. And to avoid being too blatant in her reaction, she quickly switched to teasing mode. “But only under one condition.”
“Huh?”
“Nico will apply it for Maki-chan.”
“Alrigh… Eh?” Suddenly, Maki’s eyes widened and she recoiled. “Buweehh?! A-A-All of… of… uwehhh…” She sputtered, looking down at herself as her cheeks flared a brilliant crimson.
Nico couldn’t help letting her own gaze be drawn along. Oh… “Y-You’re back!” She quickly corrected. “Just your back! Maki-chan is certainly capable of applying it to her arms and legs and such, but one’s own back is hard to reach. And an idol’s skin is an important asset, so she has to ensure proper protection. And Nico is offering her services for that. Maki-chan should be grateful.”
Still blushing, Maki managed a fairly convincing deadpan glare at Nico and reached for the bottle. She then flipped the cap and squeezed some into her palm before beginning to apply it to her arm. For her part, Nico watched quietly as Maki finished her arms and moved to her shoulders. Then her clavicle, neck and down…
Nico swallowed. Oh gods, don’t stare. She quickly averted her gaze. After what felt like an appropriate amount of time, she glanced back at the other girl. Maki was sitting in an awkward position, utilizing none of the flexibility she had earned through her school idol training as she spread sunscreen up her calves, thighs and… Damn… Nico had to look away again.
“Here.” Maki stated a few moments later.
“Thanks.” Nico replied, finding a bottle being held out toward her. “Now turn around.”
“Mmm…” Maki hummed, doing as instructed, but then lay down on her towel.
Holy… Nico swallowed again as she took in the sight before her. It felt like it had been forever since last she had seen Maki in a swimsuit, or anything form fitting or anywhere near this revealing. And while she hadn’t forgotten, seeing her again, this close and about to… She was really going to do this, wasn’t she?
“Nico-chan?” Maki propped herself up on her elbows and glanced back at the older girl.
“Sorry, one sec.” Nico quickly upturned the bottle and squeezed some lotion into her hand.
Maki raised an eyebrow but remained quiet for a moment before turning back away.
Nico closed her eyes and took one more second to mentally prepare herself before reaching forward to…
“Kyaa!” Maki’s shoulders scrunched up as soon as contact was made.
“Relax, Maki-chan.” Nico soothed. Yes. You relax too, Nico. It’s no big deal. It’s just sunscreen… on Maki-chan’s back… and… oh gods…
“Your hands are cold.” The redhead complained.
“Sorry.” The raven-haired girl replied. They’ll be warm in moment… She added silently, feeling her heart pound as it sent blood and heat thundering through her veins. “Hmm…”
“Mmm?”
“Maki-chan has really smooth skin…” Jeez, don’t just leave it at that! She’ll get the wrong idea! “You’ve obviously been taking good care of it.”
“Of course. Isn’t Nico-chan the one who is always saying this and that about idols and their skin and hair and whatnot?”
“You’ve been listening.” Nico couldn’t help feeling a bit of pride as she moved her hands down.
“Well, ye…”
Maki moaned.
Nico froze.
Maki’s hands flew to her mouth.
Nico yanked her hands away from Maki’s waist as though from a scalding stove before glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. Immediately, she spotted Nozomi smirking at her. Damn. Of course, it would be her. Of course. Why would the fates allow it to be anyone else? Or nobody, for that matter? Nico began dreading the teasing that would inevitably come.
“M-Maki-chan” Nico tried to break the mounting tension “I’m just applying sunscreen, not giving you a deep tissue massage.”
“…” Though Nico couldn’t see, there was little doubt in her mind that Maki’s cheeks matched her hair at that moment.
“But if Maki-chan insists,” Nico continued in a singsong voice that felt more forced than she hoped it sounded “Nico is the No.1 Masseuse in the Universe, so she’s willing to offer a super special Nico-nii massage. And at the low, low price of one tutoring session from the super smart Maki-chan.”
“… Idiot…” Maki muttered, her face still buried in her towel, though her shoulders started to relax a bit.
“You like it.”
“… Maybe…”
“Anyway,” Nico said, applying more sunscreen to her hands before placing them once again on the other girl’s back “the offer is open. Maki-chan has obviously been spending far too much time hunched over her books as she studies for cram school.”
“But…”
“Nico can feel it in the knots Maki-chan is getting from the combined stress and bad posture.” Nico already knew at least half of the excuses the younger girl might have offered had she not cut her off. “And since Nico knows Maki-chan is not going to change her study habits anytime soon, the least she can do is help ease a bit of this stiffness.” She emphasized the point by pushing at one of the knots, earning a hiss from Maki.
“… Alright…”
“And that should do it.”
“Thanks, Nico-chan.” Maki said, pushing herself up to sit onto her knees. “Do you, uhm, want me to do you?” She shook her head. “You’re back, I mean?”
Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! “Sure.”
Maki gave a nod, scooted off the towel and motioned for Nico to take her place.
“One sec.” Nico held out her hand to prevent the other girl from taking the sunscreen. “Let me get my arms and stuff first.”
“Alright.”
Nico couldn’t help being keenly aware of Maki’s gaze as she began applying the lotion to herself. Was Maki staring because she liked what she saw or because she had no interest and couldn’t be bothered to expend the energy to look away? The fact that Maki’s blush from earlier hadn’t fully faded made it that much harder to tell if it was current or merely a carryover from earlier. Part of Nico wanted to give in to her self-consciousness and turn away, but the other half wanted to show off to someone she truly wished would find her attractive.
Finally, she finished and took her place on the towel.
“Ah! Maki-chan’s hands are cold.” Nico complained as soon as she felt the other girl’s fingers on her back.
“No they aren’t.” Maki stated flatly.
“And no comment about Nico’s super smooth skin?”
“No.”
“Well, I guess Maki-chan’s hands are warmer than the rest of her.”
Maki merely growled in return but continued spreading the sunscreen.
And by the gods did it feel fantastic. Nico knew exactly why Maki had made such a noise earlier as she held one back of her own. She’d never felt this way with anyone else. Her mother was family and her siblings, while anxious to help, were sloppy, at best, in their application. Nico had been rather indifferent when Eli had helped last summer and was wary of Nozomi’s sneak attacks when she had taken the task.
But Maki was on a whole different level. The pianist’s dexterous digits diligently dispersed the cream evenly in a manner that made Nico wonder what else the girl could do with those fingers. Perhaps she should rethink her massage price and charge one in return instead of tutoring.
Had Maki ever given a massage before? Nico suspected she would be quite good, and even if not, she would likely be a quick learner. Because honestly…
“There we go.” Maki’s voice interrupted Nico’s thoughts.
“Already?” Nico heard herself ask.
“Well, yeah, you don’t want me to overapply it, right?”
“No, I’m sorry, I just, never mind.” Nico shook her head as she pushed herself up. “Wait, overapply? You can’t use too much sunscreen, Maki-chan.”
“You can’t?”
“In fact, most people don’t use enough, or forget to reapply it.”
“Reapply?”
“Every two hours.” Nico confirmed. “C’mon, Maki-chan, an idol should know these things.”
“So, we need to do this again in two hours?”
“Yup.”
“… I’d…” Maki reached up to twirl her hair “be alright with that…”
Nico grinned. “Then let’s go have some fun with the others.” She stood quickly before offering her hand to help the other girl up.
“Alright.” Maki replied, taking Nico’s hand.
Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post
15 notes · View notes
bakatenshii · 4 years
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Shouto x Marquie HCs
It’s 00:48AM here so technically it is no longer your birthday, but let’s just pretend it is because it’s the 17th in some time zone okay.
I wish I could say I came up with this concept all by myself, but my other ovary @theygottheircages actually did, so you could say she co-wrote this. Anyways, don’t kill me for the first few bits, I promise it’ll get better! Happy birthday my love, my ray of sunshine @mindninjax you deserve all the love in the world.
Shouto Todoroki was never brought up like most children; childhoods filled with laughter and friends, aimless ambitions and whatnot.
He never had any experience interacting with others his age, or anyone really in general. Which brings us to:
Bullet point 1: Shouto Todoroki does not understand social cues.
Shouto Todoroki is a loser
It’s almost painful for us to see him stumble into conflicts in conversations he has no part of being in. (It provides some good entertainment, though)
But Shouto being Shouto, glorified hotter version of Zuko (I SAID WHAT I SAID), still has girls throwing themselves at his feet. No one is surprised. (Except maybe M*neta)
But Shouto also being Shouto means he has no fucking clue about how to treat a girl.
This boy can barely read the room, you think he can understand women? Madness
So as per, after Shouto’s third dumping, everyone came up with a game:
A bet; How long before Shouto gets broken up with this time?
Is it mean? Maybe a lil. But is it funny? It sure fucking is.
He doesn’t get it. Shouto? Cue the confused math lady meme.
He just doesn’t understand why these girls pursue him for weeks, spill their loves out to him, to... break up with him a week later? r/woosh
Anyways, the most recent break-up had him more confused than usual. The girl had said something along the usual lines of, ‘you just don’t get me, do you even like me?’, but then there was a comment slid in there about how she’d found another man who’d treat her better.
Another man? So she didn’t like him while they were dating?
Bullet point 2: Shouto Todoroki did not ask to be cucked.
Up til now, yall are probably like, this is just Shouto slander! Angel, where is protagonist!! We didn’t sign up for this!!! (Except you did, welcome to my blog where I make the rules hehe)
And for this crack headcanon, we throwin’ in a lil twist. In this headcanon, the hero’s not gonna save our protagonist. Our protagonist saves our hero.
Enter: Marquie
Well, technically, Marquie is exiting the building (Angel shut up you’re not funny) of her work when she spots a suspicious young man...
setting fire. To what? fuck knows. 
But there’s the distinct flare of flames that are lighting up the alleyway (yes! another alleyway!! sue me!!!)
and Marquie? Nah, she’s not having that. How dare someone commit arson, do they know how environmentally damaging that is? God
She marches up to the man, already preparing the script to tell him off:
“What are you doing? We can’t afford more pollution, not in this city—“
He turns around and she comes face to face with... 
a Zuko cosplayer. 
With duo-coloured eyes and duo-coloured hair.
It’s all a lil ridiculous because who the hell dyes their hair that colour, but also more concerning is that he’s setting fire to what looks like the iceberg that sank the Titanic. 
(cue a tomato being thrown on stage because that’s positively the worst joke I’ve made up to date)
He just stares at her though, because frankly, he’s a lil slow.
No, but genuinely the screws in his brain’s just turning tryna figure out why this woman’s just coming at him before—
oh.
and he proceeds to deadpan an explanation about being a hero and his quirk that frankly is a bit too convenient but he’s cute and Marquie’s a bit of a sucker for cute boys so.
Marquie!! do we need a bit of background info? Well I’m about to spoonfeed it to yall anyways.
Marquie is the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine, can make conversation with just about anyone, and honestly, you just subconsciously get whirled into it. Caught up in her flow and whatnot.
Which is precisely what happens, and yeah sure, Shouto’s not giving her much to work with, bc since when was he the talker of the century?
He’s still got the same expression on his face, but he’s enjoying it. He swears, can you not tell?
For once, he doesn’t feel as if the girl’s expecting anything out of him, doesn’t feel pressured to fulfill her image of him, whatever that is. He hasn’t even figured it out himself.
She’s so excited, as she always is. Soon as she realized he wasn’t harming the environment, in fact, staying behind to clean up his mess, he was in her good books.
And a hero? Mate, she’s got a list of questions the length of that Spongebob meme. You know the one. (no, not the ‘The’ one.)
It happens naturally, they’re just going with the flow. He’s still not giving out much input, but she’s more than content with whatever singular-word answer he gives.
It’s fun, and cute, blah blah, their personality just meshes, you know?
They’re grabbing food together because Marquie’s just got off work, and he’s off patrol, and honestly, why the fuck not.
The story’s gotta progress somehow, init.
And the story progresses like this:
They start spending more time together, because the area he patrols just happens to be where she works. 
(God! Angel pulling the strings of fate once again.)
He’s frankly surprised she’s not gotten bored of him, or been offended he seemed so ‘disinterested’ (even though he doesn’t think so, it’s just his face, probably)
She’s happy with him just the way he is, he’s good company, although Marquie could make anyone good company. She’s just that likeable.
She knows how to have a good time, and if she has a good time? You can’t help but also have a good time.
I knooow the motto of my blog is ‘fuck a slow burn’ but man, you want me to write fast burn Shouto? (I didn’t make a pun, everyone thank me for that.)
He’s surprised, you know? Never has a girl just spoken to him so casually, without any traces of ulterior motives (not that he could’ve picked any up, what even are social cues?) and somehow, she’s always managed to know what he’s feeling.
She says something like— I can tell by the expression on your face, it’s pretty obvious— to which we reply:
No, Marquie. That’s just you. Shouto’s got a total of 2 distinguishable expressions and it’s when he sees Endeavor and when he doesn’t.
So yeah, whatever, we all know where this is going. He’s blushing more around her, finding himself wanting to see her more and, what do you know.
Bullet point 3: Shouto Todoroki’s got a crush.
Not that he knows what that is. But Marquie sure does, so instead of the guy taking the lead (because fuck gender roles!! yeah!) she makes the first move.
And when she tells him he’s an idiot for not realizing, we’re all snorting because— now you realize he’s an idiot?
Yeah he’s an idiot, but he’s her idiot, you know?
(GAG, VOMIT)
And maybe he’s googling for the first time: Where to take a girl out on the first date? What to buy a girl for her birthday?
He can’t for the life of him figure out why he doesn’t want to fuck this up this time, but it’s okay baby, we’re all patiently waiting for you to grow up. It’s okay. (It’s kinda endearing)
And that leads us to our final point:
Bullet point 4: Shouto Todoroki will never be cucked again. Marquie has saved him from the cucking, congratulations.
You heard it here first: Cuck Wars 2020 has been ended by Marquie. 
tags: @enjifuckersupreme , @theygottheircages , @yukiimanic , @lookslikeleese , @rat-suki , @baku-no-alt , @blahkugo , @sanguinekeigo , @pomsuki , @zahrashallucinations , @saratour , @red-riot-girl642
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Works in Progress Masterlist
Here is a list of all of the works I’ve been working on in the last couple of years. Some of these (most of these, if we’re being honest), I don’t work on much, if at all, but these are all works I’ve been working on in alphabetical order.
-10 Souls Sequel: the darkass sequel to my old WIP, 10 Souls. All about the afterlives of all of the characters that died in the first story.
The Curse of the Bloody Lady: basically, my rendition of the story of Bloody Mary. Simply put.
-The Dark Mysteries of the Afterlife: a story where the MC is dead and reliving their nightmares as their own personal hell but the entire story, they don’t realize they’re dead.
-Death Has a Face Novel: all about Ikuisuus and her uh, afterlife... and whatnot. This is one of the few that I can honestly say is difficult to really summarize.
-The Dream Warp Series: The Beginning: This little series is going to be about a girl that can literally leap into peoples’ dreams. I might rewrite it, but as of right now, she’s gaining her ability and learning about it.
-The Fall of the Sirens: this will probably be a trilogy. So far, it’s about the forbidden love story between a human and a siren. In future stories/novels, it will delve more into the mermaid and selkie species.
-The Forest: basically, it’s a story about a village that believes that every once in a while (I haven’t decided how frequently yet), when they leave their babies in the Heart of the Forest, their babies are risen to the Gods to be raised by them... well, they get slapped by the cold, hard truth of the matter.
-Glimmer Like the Stars: a story that’s all about a teacher who’s secretly a guardian angel that watches over children that are in tramatic experiences.
-The Hand of Fate: it’s hopefully going to turn out horror-eque - or at least that’s the goal. Basically the main theme is the utter feeling of hopelessness, like you cannot control your own destiny. All about a hand that controls a person’s fate. Basically, it’s about a person who realizes their whole life is just a story bewing written by The Hand but The hand is making them do things they would NEVER otherwise do.
Humanity’s Demon 2.0: simply put, it’s a novel that began from an idea from a tumblr post about how demons actually have social anxiety and then it kind of built from there. The novel has turned into like a fully-fleshed out novel.
A Lesbian Love Story: basically, it’s the love story about Belinda and Ikuisuus in a world where Ikuisuus actually looks her age. i just wanted a world where it wouldn’t encourage pedophiles to be creepy but I absolutely love Iku & Belinda together sooo... I made a world where they are together romantically. Basically. Just as a bit of fyi, Iku is bi and Bella is homosexual.
-The Magic Jeweler: the story of Chip’s sh0op and all of his customers and what happens when you don’t heed a magic man’s warnings.
-Origins of the Hybrid Species: a story about Kyle (my vampire/werewolf hybrid character) and how he started the hybrid species... or if you want to be super technical about it, how is parents started the hybrid species.
-The Origin of the Magick Shoppe: a story about Chip (from the Magic Jeweler) and how he started the jewelry shop.
-Soul Surgery: this is one of those WIPs that is super slow-coming but... it is about a world where people basically worship animals and the main character/character whose POV the whole WIP is in hates animals and only uses them to try to gain immortality, which is his ultimate goal.
-Vampire Idol [rewrite]: originally, the series was supposed to be about a vampire reality show where instead of singing, vampires became famous by how brutally they killed humans. Now, the rewrite is about the origin of how this same show came to be.
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sneakywitchthieves · 4 years
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My First Impressions DA4 Dev Diary
Ok so firstly, I think there is going to be a ton of concept art that we will never see make it to the game, a lot will be for the benefit of crafting the story without actually being in the world itself, so I am taking everything as a concept and not really a peek at the game.
These are all based on something that sparked upon first watch of the video. I have included some screen caps with time stamps for people who might want to look at them on their own. Based on both concept art from DAI to end results AND if they did their jobs of getting the feeling/mood/ideas across I am just stating what I personally read out of those ideas and images or interviews. Nothing is solid, these are just where I was sparked to go. Buckle up, it’s a long hot mess: 
The locations look amazing and I think it's possible to see a lot of the places we have never been before but I also got something reminiscent of Val Royeaux with a few of them. Especially the lake and boats. 
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We are going to see more about the titans, and the deep roads, my guess is lore in the decent will be coming back in a bigger way there. There are a lot of shots of both rock formations, lyrium glowing and dwarven places that don't look underground OR ruins. These are well preserved looking at the interior shots and it another sweeping shot it looks like sunlight from the ceiling so these are not exactly “ruins” as we have seen them before.
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SWIMMING!?!
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 Also Dorian looking facial hair (but maybe not?) That does look like Dorian's facial hair but also at the end of Trespasser they changed up his look slightly so I will question everything. I’m guessing if he is there it will more likely be as an advisor/contact he might be more like a temp companion in the way that Cullen joins you on the mission to the Temple in DAI, but I don't think he will be like Varric was in DAI from DA2 because his story seems more tied to fighting things from within and in his own ways of changing the world of Tevinter with his new found position.
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This image below doesn't look like the other companions(?) character designs we have seen that repeat or at least the character designs we are guessing are companions as much to me so this might be a story telling concept more than a playable portion?  Also getting some return to Awakening lore vibes in a lot of these shots of what I assume are Tevinter.
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I feel pretty confident we are going to Weisshaupt 
New combat styles look exciting, like more magic options and maybe even magical weapons? I also think we are going to see a return of ancient elves or at least something similar to what we saw at the temple of mythal. Like these folks here:
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The floating stuff looks like something hidden away, like when we were at the floating library. It wasn't a result of the rift like the temple of scared ashes, it was just like that and those look like halla and sort of Aravels in design so I think this is either Agents of F.H. or maybe even the dalish? I mean they look like they are preparing to travel? Maybe I’m talking out of my ass but maybe it’s just a flashback to lore and how the dalish came to be after the veil creation.
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There is a Crow in this art with the lady in the salon chair and what looks like the Qunari companion(?), so that might point to Antiva? I think the grand necropolis is the one with all the waterfalls, but I can't remember how all these places were described.
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This looks like a giant Qunari. Like the super charged Serabas from Trespasser
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The way they talk about "not having power" I feel like that's back to Origins in a way. Like trying to bring light to something and not having an organization like in DAI. I think it's also going to be more "in the shadows" like no one knows who you are kind of? Similar and more intimate like in the comics series with Varric and Alistair searching for his father. I think it’s going to be more grassroots in a way. I think this will be more varied than Inquisition in that recruiting will likely be about gathering people from other places and bringing them together as those who can see the big threat and have been doing it on their own before joining our gang. It’s hard to put in to words what I mean but I like the idea of seeking out people to bring in based on a rumour of a person who is doing what you are doing but in their country.
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I haven’t looked too much at the possible companion(?) art aside to say I think it would be dope if the tall central figure was Maevaris, and it looks like glowly head skeletor is the result of  Necromancy of Cassandra’s homeland based on how the lore has described those beings. Also would be interesting if they were something similar to the way Justice was.
It would be also fun to imagine that these are not companions at all but actually playable protagonsists that you can choose from for backstories like we had in origins and that’s another reason they are not always a clear figure but a general representation? It’s fun to imagine we could have Origins return in that way. 
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I thought the lore was that Crows are always boys, kind of like the unsullied from ASOIAF. They are bought and trained young. But also my memory is crap so maybe I've been corrupted by tropes and know nothing.  I am very curious who she is, she's like a catwoman-esque character in that maybe she is a criminal? Maybe a foe? Maybe a friend? Either way I’m here for it.
Solas looks smokin, both literally and figuratively.
The dread wolf line makes me think it's going to be the first confrontation with him as the new protag cause he would have contempt for having to feel like he needs to explain himself to someone he doesn't know. Like when we see Corypheus at Haven.
Lots of creature and beast designs I think will come from the "old things" like an awakening from what Solas has done in trying to bring things back. Also maybe something more like the Guardians we had for the titans will turn out to be obstacles to get more lore and deeper into the blight and the formation of thedas with the worlds colliding from the pre-veil times to present. There is also an Anthem-looking giant with an axe of fire so that will be interesting.
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This gives me the Mother and Broodmother vibes but also it looks like a heart in the centre, which is extra creep. Also Mr spideyhands. 
Confirmation of at least 1 voiced Warden character?? I think it’s close enough to call.
The big rock boi is 100% neverending story feels and might be a titan manifesting itself in a way we can actually communicate with it as opposed to what happened in decent. Please yes.
More Grand Necropolis I think and evidence of the glowy head skeletor concept
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Look at all these warden flags and colours... that 's the stronghold, bruh
Everyone wants the one companion(?) to be carrying a gun and I can't tell you how much I would dislike that, but to each their own. I suspect it's more Bianca-like in nature of mechanical but what do i know?
Final thoughts: I would love a return to the lore of the darkspawn creation, the nature of the blight, (there is some hints in the concept art as to these elements in design with a corypheus type figure) 
I know Solas knows about all of that so give it to us please. I think the new protag will be brand new, but also with the inquisition as an option to disband or continue it's likely we will get a lot of cameos from games past.
Either Inky will be sought out like Hawke was? or with the advisors or former companions will be still working to do things without the official organization (should they have chosen to dissolve the organization) because they show the Inky and some of the inner circle post trespasser looking at the map and making moves even if there is no "forces" or troops or anything backed by the Inquisition itself. Because the “bad guy” this time is someone we have had some sort of relationship with, either friend or lover, or simply a companion I think you have to have closure on that story with the Inky and I will be super bummed if that is never addressed. I doubt we will see the HOF,(I thought I read it confirmed they would never be back?) and if we do it will be letters only or codex at the stronghold or someone talking about them. I think we will learn something about The Warden/Hawke's fate (if left in the fade) as the veil would in theory come down at some point or at least things will be effected by that and that means they maybe aren't trapped there. Maybe a jumanji type situation? I would enjoy that personally, even if just for the memes.
Feel free to add, counteract, contradict, or whatnot, but let’s all be respectful and excited together! 
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dragonwarriorgal · 3 years
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Fate: The Winx Saga episode 3. Heavy Mortal Hopes
Well this is the halfway point in this season, might as well have cryptic vision when Bloom was JUST BORN. Also, how the hell would this old lady (who I am assuming is Belinda) know that baby Bloom would have comprehended the ominous message?
Ah, yes, I have now made the connections based on the opening theme song that this show is very magical and whimsical and will rock you to sleep with soothing music...
These action/training sessions are starting earlier and earlier each episode... well time for some gay undertones and me yelling at the screen for River(high guy) and the new guy(don't care, he contributes nothing to this story other than being gay) to JUST FUCK ALREADY!
Riven: I'm just trying to figure out why the fuck you started things up with her again Me: THANK YOU! Show: FOR DRAMATIC REASONS!!!!
Ok, I gotta admit, hearing the words "It's butt stuff" coming from a show with fairies and witches got a chuckle out of me.
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Are we actually having some development of their powers and be actual school instead of diet Sabrina?
"You cool?" Aisha: "Just tired of dealing with your shit all the time, now it is time for MY development you twat" I mean it came out of nowhere because this is THE THIRD EPISODE OF A SIX EPISODE SERIES and we are only NOW getting to know their characters and whatnot
Terra: "You can tell me what's wrong with Silva, Dad, I'm not a kid anymore" Me: "Yes, but you are an annoying blabber! I really don't think it is a good idea for your father to tell you about the infected teacher!"
Yes, let's talk about our evil plans between classes, it's not like those students who are WALKING RIGHT PAST YOU will hear anything RIGHT!?!?!?!?
"People talk" he says during lunch break in the STUDENTS CAFETERIA!!!!!!!
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Bloom is so SELFISH!!!
If Silva starts to say "Braaaiiins" I will lose it.
How cool would it be if Silva had some gray hairs or completely gray hair, it would be badass to see him kicking ass but ever since Dalinar from the Stormlight Archive I have been finding old soldiers trope to be very cool.
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Who the hell are they?
Well, that was a weird scene and pointless, the only thing it did was saying: "heads up, there's going to be a new character and he is hot!"
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Good to know that there have been few weeks between episode 2&3
This show has the weirdest locations for important stuff. I mean are they SERIOUSLY having A BATTLE STRATEGY MEETING IN THE MAIN HALL?!!??!? Also "hot" Marco is not that hot and more bland.
I can smell the teen angst from this party
Pop song number 1 (there are like 10 songs in this party alone)
Ok, at first I was a bit "meh" of the whole Musa x Sam(Terra's brother) storyline, but this episode made it possible to grow on me.
Oh. No. Terra... do you really have to have a crush on the gay best friend
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Wow. The sexual tension! I honestly thought that they were going to have m/m/f threesome! IN A SHOW ABOUT FAIRIES!
I feel like going to put up a cheerleading outfit to cheer Sky TO FINALLY HAVING THE BALLS TO STAND UP TO STELLA!!
Ah, so the grandma in the vision was Rosalind...
So you're planning on going to hunt down and fight this Burned One yourself... on the same night as the mandatory party in Teen TV drama... which you yourself had a quite a few beers during that beer pong scene?...sigh
W.O.W. That fight scene was so bad
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And OF COURSE IT WAS THE EXACT BURNED ONE WHO INFECTED SILVA!
*crosses fingers* breakupbreakupbreakupbreakupBREAKUP!
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He walked away! Hopefully it means he finally sees reason!
Oh, poor poor, CLUELESS Terra.
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and yet another cliffhanger after Bloom being very selfish...
All in all, I am grateful for the character development episode, because there were absolutely nothing in the last episode except for maybe Musa and Sam (I really don’t care if that is not his name), it is understandable, this being a 6 episode series, but still. I am also hoping to see Sky grow some balls, but I think those balls went to Aisha instead with her confronting Bloom. But Aisha being all of a sudden horrible in her studies was a heel turn, came out of nowhere. And this series has almost no sense of time, they actually had to tell the audience “it has been few weeks”, “I had that vision a week ago”... I HAD NO IDEA!
Man, am I glad to be halfway through...
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aminiatureworld · 4 years
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Every Third Day
Ship: Geralt x Jaskier
Warnings: Swearing?
Author’s Note: The books haven’t yet arrived so this is solely based off my viewing of the show. Forgive me if it’s not very good, I haven’t put fanfiction on tumblr in perhaps years. Also the first half was written at 3 am, and the second during a period of particular saltiness. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading it.
Premise: Jaskier gets a gig after the breakup and a scene ensues.
Also available now on Ao3
Jaskier was just angry that Geralt had been so undeniably rude. That was how the bard tried to rationalize it at least, after the mess with the dragon and whatnot. How embarrassing, was what he told himself the final emotion of that confrontation was, what a scene, and what a twat Geralt was for doing such a thing when there were other people up on that mountain with them; even if they weren’t close around them, it was really quite rude of him to risk such a thing getting into someone’s hearing. After all, bards have to worry about reputations, not like witchers, who can just slink around here and there and intimidate others into some form of silence usually. But it wasn’t as if Jaskier could glare a drunk patron to silence. And reputation was all that bards had really, besides their songs of course, and even popular hits could fail with a certain type of crowd.
           Yes, it was how unfortunately irresponsible Geralt had been, his rudeness,  that made Jaskier so testy in regards to witchers. There was nothing else to be said about it, that was that. It was what he told himself every time he thought of a joke for Geralt, or bought extra food for Roach, or strung together a hum, whose lyrics somehow always turned towards that dragon’s den, eternal lamenting, and whatnot. Of course, there was a part of him that knew he was absolutely in denial, that small slimy voice which needled him this way and that, which seemed to have some sort of inner clock set for three in the morning every three days, Jaskier wasn’t sure why it was always three, but then again he wasn’t supposed to be hearing the voice anyways, the voice which reminding Jaskier that there was a little more to it than simply being offended, that Jaskier was actually quite cut up about the whole matter, and that eventually someone was going to have to swallow their pride and make the first move towards reconciliation, or find some gods forsaken forgetting magic, or else nothing would be solved. Jaskier knew the voice wasn’t technically wrong, but really it only came every third day, and sometimes could be coaxed away, if he sacrificed his kidneys enough, so Jaskier didn’t see reason in bringing up the points that part of himself made.
           Of course easier said than done and all that, honestly Jaskier had always liked to think himself better than that nonsense, but he supposed sometimes it was truly inevitable. And he couldn’t really help that it was one such night, a third night, when he was invited to play at that god forsaken banquet. What it was being given for, well Jaskier hadn’t a damn. He didn’t really care that much after all, it was just another gig, and if it weren’t the third day and one of those times, he probably wouldn’t’ve even given it a second thought. But unfortunately Fate was being very rude, almost as rude as Geralt had been, so there he was, doublet half on, staring into the mirror of his room at the inn, wondering why he couldn’t have become some pompous professor, rather than, well, whatever the hell he was now, for he didn’t feel at all like a bard, perhaps more of a barnacle, unable to leave his fixture in front of the mirror.
He wasn’t even sure what he was staring at, some part of the wood on the back wall was holding all of his attention and none at all simultaneously, and though he had a vague awareness that he ought not to have been staring so much, and ought to have been doing something more productive, like finishing getting dressed or checking to make sure a peg hadn’t slipped on his lute, really the new chill in the air was causing the pitch to go all sorts of horrendous, but it also wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t find himself doing any of those things, and besides, it all seemed like an awful lot of work, and things like money were becoming a lot more abstract the more he wandered, really at this point why not try to lie outside in the woods, with his luck some other stupid witcher would pick him up for a few months before surreptitiously dumping him. The plan didn’t seem to horrible, but then Jaskier remembered that finding food was an awful lot harder in the woods, and maybe he’d be able to get some ale that was at least marginally better than whatever he was living off of in these grungy towns. Besides, war was hard to ignore, and there seemed an awful lot of that recently. Might as well try to enjoy something.
           To say such arguments were convincing would’ve been a bold faced lie, and Jaskier wasn’t quite so idiotic as to try those on himself, but it was certainly a distraction, and, to Jaskier’s great shock, he found arguing with himself much more entertaining than staring at pine, so, picking a variety of topics to scold and cajole himself about, he finally finished knotting up his doublet, and even had time to realize the A string had slipped once more, before walking out of the door of his room, heart not truly lighter, but at least a bit more distracted.
 -
           Jaskier wished he’d saved some of that distraction for later, for apparently only one of the hosts had wished for a bard, the other being quite tone deaf and quite without care, so the night was less bawdy jigs and the like, and more sitting in the corner wishing he could take one of the ceremonial daggers on the gentlemen’s belts and stab himself through the ears so he didn’t have to keep listening about a bad loan on one of the lord’s summer houses. Really Jaskier always though one house was quite enough, but though he supposed he could be wrong in regards to its necessity,  he was quite confident in the matter of whether the topic had any merit or worth, the answer being a most decisive no. He’d managed to excuse himself, claiming need for a piss, before finding a dark enough corridor to fiddle around in until it was time to be paid, or until one of the surly looking guards shoved him back into the hall.
           Now he sat in the near darkness, fingers strumming a variety of chord progressions. Jaskier was quite the fan of tritones, they always sounded so dark and distorted, and now he went down the line of them, chuckling as he remembered the time he played a tritone in front of a particularly swooning type of lady, and she accused him of either attempting to summon some sort of demon, or being a particularly terrible bard. Go figure that nobility knew next to nothing about music. The tritones having been played Jaskier strummed a few other random chords, minor 2nds and the like, before allowing himself to fall into the familiar. He hadn’t played Toss a Coin since the entire debacle, not publicly anyways. That thing might’ve sold well, but it wouldn’t really do for your bard to suddenly stop or, even worse, burst into tears or some such thing, so that song had been surreptitiously shelved for other tunes which, though perhaps not as popular or iconic, really in the end let Jaskier take more gigs than if he’d tried to push through and play… that. But now that he was alone, bored, and vaguely irritated, he allowed the muscle memory take over, and soon enough was singing softly to himself. When it ended he started again, and again, and again. He knew he ought to have stopped, ought to have gone back, but it was the third day, and surely it was almost three in the morning, and Jaskier was just, so tired. So he let himself go, for a moment, for only a moment, and lost himself in the music, and in the past.
           Eventually the moment passed, the talking died down, and Jaskier figured it’d been long enough, and it was probably time to collect the bill. He stood up from his position on the floor, brushing his pants off and strapping the lute over his back. He hoped that, despite the second host being hardly thrilled of his presence, I suppose bards were too peasant-y for his tastes, that wouldn’t stop him from collecting his fee, after all wasn’t it illegal to swindle bars, but while he was musing over the idea of how much his pay was in jeopardy, he hardly noticed that, though he’d arrived in the middle of the hall there was no one talking, and it was only until he bumped into the back of a lady that he found himself looking up, and, when his eyes met the back of the all too familiar figure, Jaskier wondered why he’d hadn’t just stayed staring at the wall of the inn, for surely there could be no worse experience than this.
           The emotions that hit Jaskier were really quite obnoxious, and he found himself trying not to run, or scream, or throw something. That bastard! Really he was quite the rudest, most infuriating, most inconsiderate man Jaskier had ever met. An emotion was welling up inside of him, an emotion that was too close to relief and, well, a sort of fondness that was certainly not welcome at the time, for Jaskier was angry. Angry as he’d been angry few times before, for this was that witcher, his witcher, and of course it was, of course Jaskier hadn’t been able to run far enough, though he’d slunk around in every sludgy hovel he could find trying to avoid just this kind of thing. A man who complained about house loans wasn’t supposed to be the kind to attract witchers, really; yet here Jaskier was and there was Geralt and it’d probably be more prudent to walk away just then, but Jaskier was still feeling quite angry, and all common sense had long since dissipated into the night, so he hardly felt anything that could be called embarrassment or regret as he shoved his way through the crowd, stepped into the center of the circle that people always cleared away when Geralt was around, and, taking the Witcher by the shoulder, whirled Geralt around to face him.
           Geralt looked as close to floored as Jaskier had ever seen him, which was to say his eyes widened, his brow furrowed, and he took a minute step back. Really it was sometimes unfair how reticent Geralt was, when Jaskier, had the positions been switched, would’ve probably been screaming by now. Instead a silence permeated the circle, while, at the borders of it a small amount of tittering came from the crowd. Jaskier realized he ought to have planned farther out than this, the idea of sneaking away had suddenly become much more appealing, but it was too late, and Jaskier was too angry, and honestly why couldn’t he have just gotten his money and left; so, instead of doing something polite, or perhaps even rational, he decided instead that to simply yell “What the fuck are you doing here?” was the best opening line he had. Geralt’s narrowed eyes immediately conveyed that was not perhaps the best decision Jaskier had made, but it was too late, and honestly Jaskier felt he deserved the answer to that question anyways, so, instead of perhaps backing up or turning and leaving, he crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg, an eyebrow raised, trying to look as intimidating as possible.
           Perhaps it worked, more likely Geralt was sick of the attention and had decided just answering was a quicker way to get out of this than haggling, Jaskier was a master at haggling, for after a few seconds pause the Witcher simply sighed and, gesturing towards the dais, roughly replied “I’m here to receive my payment.” Jaskier followed the hand towards the man who’d been complaining Jaskier’s ears off about the house loan. Now the man looked almost as purple as the belt he was wearing, and Jaskier didn’t know whether to laugh or bang his head on the wall.
           “So that was the payment you were telling me about.” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly you might as well pay now because last time Geralt was surrounded by so many people he ended up an adoptive father-to-be and honestly, if he deals with another one as well as he dealt with the first, your poor kid is going to be in great want of a guardian their entire life.” The man looked even worse at that and, shaking his head, gestured for the two men in the circle to come up and talk. Jaskier followed Geralt, after all he needed his wages too, and besides this was probably going to be at least the tiniest bit interesting, which would be some kind of payment for the whole embarrassing situation, and when Geralt didn’t try to steer him away Jaskier decided that if they could limit their actions to a line spoken every once in a while in public, maybe this third day thing would finally shut up.
           The haggling, there was always haggling, took almost an hour, and by the time both witcher and bard had been ushered out with what they were owed Jaskier could’ve sworn that he was already seeing the first signs of dawn. The walk towards the town was silent at first, but Jaskier figured since he wasn’t likely to see Geralt for a long time afterwards, if ever, he’d at least get some conversation out of him.
           “So whatever did happen to your child of surprise?” He glanced up towards Geralt, who looked as stodgy as ever, typical. Hearing the question though he tilted his head towards the bard.
           “Ciri’s with Yennefer.” He replied curtly. Jaskier, being very much drunk on lack of sleep, and a few stiff drinks, burst out laughing.
           “So not only did you finally accept you destiny and whatnot, but you sent a child to… Yennefer?” Geralt glared at the laughing Jaskier.
           “It’s more complicated than that.” His tone was irritated, but Jaskier wasn’t over, and simply smiled acerbically.
           “Ah yes, well forgive me for not having second sight in regards to your comings and goings. Really,” he rolled his eyes, “you dump me off in some forsaken dragon’s dwelling then expected me to spend my every move tracking you. Well, forgive me, but I don’t make it a point to keep tabs with closed bars.” He was growing irritated again, and started pushing ahead a bit.
           “Jaskier, I’m… sorry.” The bard didn’t think he heard the Witcher right, stopping dead in his tracks. Turning around, Jaskier stared up at Geralt, for he didn’t think that anything deserved such malice as this, yet Geralt seemed utterly serious, even regretful. It was an expression Jaskier hadn’t seen before, perhaps the most open emotion yet to cross the stodgy witcher’s face, and Jaskier honestly had no idea what to make of it, for to laugh or joke seemed inappropriate now and yet the terrain was so unfamiliar and he was surrounded by cliffs, and didn’t know which to jump off of. He stared as the moments passed, and, finding he could find no clever way to convey his feelings, decided that if Geralt couldn’t handle the slightly cut up bard, then better to realize it now then on another mountaintop.
           “What you did Geralt was very rude,” he started, before the small voice rose up, insisting on correcting him, for now if he didn’t he’d be very much lying to not only Geralt but himself and that wouldn’t do, “it was was very rude,” he continued, “and it was very hurtful. I thought, even if I was nothing than your bardic sometimes-friend, that, I deserved more. And that you never then sent word of your actions, only to show up now, I don’t know what to make of it,” he swallowed, forcing himself to look Geralt dead in the face, as he’d not look at an audience’s shoes during an important song or speech, “but that you’re sorry, that you apologized, well, that means a great deal to me, more perhaps even than all the money I’ve received since our departure.” He paused for a moment, this was veering off into dangerous territory. “What I’m trying to say is, thank you for apologizing and acknowledging that it was hurtful.” He smiled softly then went to turn back towards the town again.
           “Jaskier,” he stopped again, “what I mean to ask,” Geralt looked incredibly uncomfortable now, not a foreign emotion, and clasped his hands in front of him, “would you consider coming with me again, and meeting Ciri.”
           “What?” Jaskier’s jaw dropped and he utterly forgot trying to control his speech. “What on Earth for?”
           “You’re smart, and educated, and it’d be good for Ciri to learn; besides,” Geralt paused again, “I’d like it.”
           “You…” Jaskier shook his head, perhaps he was still at the inn staring at the wall, or perhaps he’d passed out in the castle hallway. “Are you quite sure?” was all he could manage. Geralt nodded curtly, and Jaskier figured if this was some sort of stupor or dream, he’d at least carry it as far as he could. And. if it was real, well Geralt was certainly rude, but he also was honest most days, and if his adopted kid, Ciri, need Jaskier, well then, how could he refuse. So Jaskier found himself smiling and nodding back, even tearing up, to what would be his great embarrassment when he slept a little, as he replied. “Then yes, of course I’d consider it, yes. After all, you are my friend.” The little voice whispered inside him that was also a lie, though perhaps a more complicated one, but as Jaskier walked closer to Geralt, humming a familiar tune and even going so far as to tentatively reach his hand towards the Witcher, he was truly drunk, he figured that dealing with that emotion every third day was certainly not so difficult. Of course not, he thought, when, to his delight, Geralt accepted the outstretched hand, not difficult at all.
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theangelofvengeance · 3 years
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A Wish Among The Stars
Midnight had officially been broken around what seemed to be the remains of Garreg Mach Monastery. This great big building which had been home to Fodlan's archbishop, Lady Rhea, was nothing more than reduced to ruins, all thanks to a sneak attack that had been planned by former student and the current emperor of the Adrestian Empire, Edelgard Von Hresvelg. It had finally been five years ago ever since that incident occurred, and safe to say, a lot of the students, teachers and everyone who have worked closely with Lady Rhea, had never forgotten that fateful day.
No doubt Ashe Ubert was one of those students who experienced that unforgettable sneak attack just five years ago. It was also five years ago that his dear professor, Byleth, had been presumed missing. Yes, he had been found ever since, and he had been working all day night with the rest of the Blue Lions to get even against Edelgard herself. And tomorrow was gonna be the day that their professor would take the class he lead in his life over to the Adrestian capital of Enbarr, where they can finally overthrow Edelgard's bloodthirsty regime once and for all.
And it was gonna be the final battle too. That was the one thing Ashe didn't expect, but was expected anyway since the archer himself didn't know how long he wanted to keep fighting this way. Right now, he just wanted to keep both Fodlan and Faerghus, the towns that he resided in in a state of peace. At least on this night Ashe was having all to himself, he only managed to get a brief taste of that peace as he found himself all alone in the middle of the night, stargazing down from the greenhouse he was slumbered inside in. It was mostly Ashe's thing whenever he found himself bored or just wanted to get away from the madness outside the monastery. There was something about being roomed inside a greenhouse while looking at the stars through one of the windows that made it sound so hauntingly beautiful. That and mixed with the sweet aroma of flowers around him made for a perfect nighttime setting.
Of course, he also couldn't forget the warm aroma of chocolate chip cookies that was cooling off in the box that was sitting next to him. This definitely sounded like a peaceful moment to him indeed, especially when he let his thoughts out all to himself.
"I can't wait for this entire war to be over and done with. It almost feels like a long time too..."
A calm sigh broke from Ashe's lips, one that spoke out of pure peace and yet out of uncertainly. He couldn't quite help but think that this upcoming battle with Edelgard could possibly be his last, should he have to die in that final war. He also couldn't help but think if this war would be the final time he would ever see his friends again if they were to fall in battle. Throughout the years in the monastery, he had made friends with his fellow Blue Lions like Felix, Ashe, Ingrid, Mercedes, Sylvain, Annette and their trustful King of Faerghus, Dimitri. Not to mention the students his dear professor recruited into the group like Dorothea, Ferdinand, Leonie, Lysithea, Hilda, Marianne, Balthus and Constance. Ashe had treated everyone of them more than friends.
They were his family. The kind of family that Ashe never got the chance to have even though he was adopted. The kind of family that even though they weren't related, they were bonded by blood and blood alone. What he wouldn't do for any of them that's already been said enough. He continued to reminisce for a little while until he felt the inside of his stomach rumble out of hunger.
"Okay, I hope those cookies are cold enough for me to eat now..." Ashe said to himself before putting his hand inside the box of cookies.
But as he did though, he somehow touched what seemed to be a silk-like glove instead of a baked cookie biscuit. This feeling gave Ashe a grim gulp around his throat as he quickly turned his head to see who he was touching.
The mysterious figure Ashe was touching smiled right to him, "Hi, Ashe."
'GAAAAH!" shrieked Ashe as he nearly fell out of the ledge he was sitting on.
The archer managed to keep his balance long enough to refocus on the person that was sitting next to him, which just happened to be one of his Blue Lions teammates, Annette.
"Don't do that, Annette! You really scared the heck out of me!" Ashe said with his heart palpitating.
"I'm sorry to scare you like that, Ashe." The cheerful girl replied back to him, "I kinda smelled chocolate chip cookies and I was wondering where that smell was coming from in the first place."
"Oh, that..." Ashe chuckled with a blush on his face. He then looked down at the box and said, "Yeah, it was coming from this box. Mercedes kinda made me a batch full of cookies, and I'm trying to cool them off."
"Well, they definitely look scrumptious." Annette nodded before asking, "You don't mind, do you?"
The silver-haired archer then nodded back, "Oh, go ahead."
"Thanks," She smiled sweetly, taking a freshly-baked cookie out from the box. Munching on the cookie itself, Annette then asked the archer, "By the way, I didn't know you hung out here at nights."
Ashe fought out a nervous chuckle as he said with a cookie in hand, "Yeah, sometimes I need to find a good place to get some space and clear my thoughts. What with this being a crazy world due to all of the battles we've fought in so far."
"No kidding," Annette nodded with her mouth full, "Hard to believe we've been through so much, it's no wonder we're still alive in one piece."
"Indeed," Ashe nodded back, "The hardest part of every battle is realizing the fact that in every fight, we have to lose every one of our friends. The ones we grew up with in this very monastery. The fact that they're not with us anymore still hurts."
Annette felt that very same thing Ashe was feeling: Hurt. And no doubt that taking their friends lives in the middle of this tragic war hurt so much like a bloody dagger straight to the heart. It jams in there back and forth before it sinks right into the womb, leading to the brink of nowhere when it comes to life. Sometimes, it even led both Ashe and Annette to wonder themselves if this was hardly worth fighting for. The cold hard truth was that it wasn't worth it, but at the end of the day, it was the way this war had to be.
Minutes of silence passed between both Ashe and Annette for a good while, only for the auburn-haired songbird to break the tension by staring right up to the skies and said, "You know Ashe, maybe they're not really gone at all."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Ashe raised his eyebrow, looking at Annette with such curiosity.
"Maybe they're up there in the skies," Annette said as she pointed up the starry sky, "From the way I see it, I like to envision the friends we lost in those battles as stars. Maybe the goddess reincarnated them as such. Sure they may not be with us on this Earth, but up there, they're watching above us in this starry night." She then pointed to the exact moon itself and said, "And see that moon upthere, Ashe?"
"Yeah, I see it." Ashe nodded.
"That moon, in my mind, represents the goddess itself." Annette pointed out once more, "And those stars in the sky are joined with her in perfect harmony. Because like us, those friends fought and gave their lives for a higher purpose. We honor her and them with our hearts, because we all know they never went away no matter what their fate on Earth lies."
Ashe let out a brief, yet relieved smile as he nodded. "Huh, you're right. I really never thought about it that way."
Peaceful solitude began to break out between the two young Blue Lions themselves. Neither Ashe and Annette knew how peaceful their time looking at the stars was. Oh, if only it could be like this between the two friends themselves without any kind of war breaking out, then they never get tired of each other's company. Ever.
That solitude would only last for a bit while before Annette was surprised by the image of a shooting star falling from orbit. This excited the cheerful overachiever so much that she tugged Ashe right by the shoulder to get his attention.
"Hey Ashe, look up there!" She said as Annette pointed up to the right.
Ashe immediately followed suit as he looked up once more, only to see that shooting star shine right between his pale green eyes. It looked quite beautiful from afar, even going so far to shine even more brightly than a pearly white smile.
"I can't believe it's a shooting star," The archer chuckled out, "I hardly ever get any of those at night."
Annette chuckled once again as she said, "I guess we're lucky then, now we get to make a wish."
"Yeah," Ashe smiled back with a nervous blush growing between his cheeks. Soon as his blush faded away, the archer then asked Annette, "What did you wish for, anyway?"
The auburn-haired cutie shrugged before saying, "I don't know, nothing special. My only wish is that I just want this war to be over and make it in one piece with everyone on our side."
"That's a really good wish you thought of." Ashe nodded reassuringly.
"I did, didn't I?" Annette said, blushing a bit herself before asking him, "You make a wish yourself, Ashe?"
The archer, truth be told, possibly didn't know how to respond to that one simple question, leading him to shrug back at her in response.
"I wouldn't know to be honest," He finally replied, "I mean, there are so many things I'm looking forward to in the future that I couldn't possibly think of what to wish for and all. I thought so many like leaving Fodlan to mark a path of my very own, maybe become a knight that I've always dreamed of being for in a famous House, or maybe retire and spend all my days shooting apples with my arrows and whatnot."
Annette broke out in a giggle saying, "You thinking of being some sort of mountain man? I can't imagine what you'd look like with a beard."
"I probably wouldn't say I'd go that far." Ashe chuckled back, sharing a laugh with the girl sitting right close to him.
All that laughing and stargazing ended up making Ashe even more hungry then usual. He decided to pick up yet another chocolate chip cookie when all of a sudden, he felt Annette's hand touch his yet again, resulting in both Ashe and Annette exchanging a blush between each other.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He said, apologizing to her.
"Oh, don't apologize, that one's on me." Annette said, pardoning the archer.
But as soon as they touched hands, something weird started to happen with the two of them together. Well, Annette most of all though as she felt a warm resonance coming from Ashe's own hand. It looked quite soft yet so warm for someone whose hands felt a little dirty after a day of training or perhaps a day of battle. Ashe felt the same way about Annette's hands too. They were smooth, creamy and inviting like feeling a cloth of silk for the first time or perhaps a cloud that Ashe could feel himself touch from where he was sitting at. The feeling felt amazing for the two of them, so much so that they never escaped each other's gaze at all.
Annette quickly wiped her blush away before replying to Ashe, "I really like spending time with you, Ashe."
"Same here," Ashe nodded with a whisper escaping his lips. He composed himself with a deep breath before he said to Annette, "You know, seeing that shooting star up in the sky, I realize I did make a wish after all."
"Really? What's that?" Annette asked curiously.
She didn't wait too long to get an answer from him.
In fact, Annette got his answer in the form of his lips meeting hers in an unexpected kiss. The auburn-haired overachiever felt her eyes bloat up out of shock and surprise. The shock of course came from the fact that she never expected Ashe to pull a gesture off like that, and the surprise was from the fact that the kiss he gave her felt so calm and sweet to her. It was clear that the time inside her mind clearly stopped the longer the kiss was going on. And deep down, Annette found herself enjoying it to the very last.
Although not for long as Ashe quickly broke away from her just to whisper to Annette, "My wish was to spend this moment with you."
She felt her heart completely melt from his words, leaving Annette to blush in response and lose a bit of feeling in her legs, realizing that the boy she had been friends with for such a long time had romantic feelings for her with just one single wish. It was all in perfect timing, knowing if this moment between the two was gonna be the final time should either Ashe, Annette or the rest of the Blue Lions not escape this final war with Edelgard unscathed.
Annette, who was still speechless from that kiss, continued to relish in this sweet moment by returning Ashe's gesture with a kiss of her own. Unlike Ashe though, her kiss felt much more passionate, yet much more deeper than his by a step forward. His insides immediately melted in response to her warm sweet lips intoxicating him per second. That proved to be more than enough for Ashe to wrap his arms around Annette and cock his head to the side, taking in more of her kiss with his in return. The two of them knew that if they were to die tomorrow by the hands of Edelgard and her tyrannical Adrestian Empire, at least they would be together as boyfriend and girlfriend no matter what fate would take them next.
Right now, relishing in this sweet moment was all that mattered to both Ashe and Annette, knowing that it was a wish worth making to them among the stars.
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littlestsnicket · 4 years
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the witcher: betrayer moon
The beginning of this episode seems to draw so much more on horror tropes than other episodes. Not that I watch a lot of horror to actually know that. This bit isn’t actually that gory, but there’s something about the slow painful dying that’s really ick. 
The random ass Witcher is smoking a fucking pipe! I missed that the first time around. It seems like he dies a lot too easy for someone with heightened Witcher senses. I guess there just narratively isn’t time for that to take longer but it feels a bit sloppy in a way this show usually isn’t. 
Two funny things about the scene with the prostitute: (1) we immediately establish that they’ve been at it long enough to run out of refreshments which is great, and (2) she’s singing Jaskier’s songs and using them to identify Geralt’s scars. That comes up in shippy stuff a lot but let's assume that is not what they’re going for. The best thing about it is that Geralt is annoyed at the singing and scar identification but also 100% willing to ignore all that if it means a pretty lady is touching his chest like that. I’m amused.
Oh hey, organized labor!
‘You can’t kill the vukodlak so you decide to kill your king?” — that’s a real odd take on the situation, but I suppose it’s not an unreasonable take on what Geralt knows of the situation. Maybe. And he’s so derisive about it. Geralt’s political views are complicated and warrant more thought than I am willing to give them right now to unpick. 
“And if you can’t kill it?” “Then I die.” ICONIC. 
It’s an interesting touch that the guard captain knows people by name. He seems very engaged on a personal level. It gives you a feeling of how small Temaria is. 
I’m not going to look at this in terms of adaptation (that would be a separate thing if I even get around to it) but I think it’s a really interesting choice to pull Triss into this story. 
This has been going on for 6 years?!? No wonder people are close to revolt. 
Oh Geralt’s angry face when he finds out that Triss lied about the other Witcher fleeing. Like don’t undermine his professional honor. 
I’m really glad they didn’t give Geralt cat eyes. I found it really distracting in Good Omens when Crowley wasn’t wearing his glasses. It’s just an odd thing to see on an otherwise human passing creature. 
Yenn? Why are there illusions of people you conjured watching you have sex? Why is that something you thought to do? The way they are smiling and the just like... warm applause is so odd. What is the kink you’re exploring there? I want to understand, Yennefer.
“You are a first draft of what nature intended.” The delivery of that line is so funny. (Also, I imagine that is how book!Dandelion’s hair looks.)
“We remake ourselves on our terms. The world has no say in it.” There’s a lot to unpack there. Especially with how Tissaia explains it in terms of power. 
“Call her a unicorn if you like.” Fanon is wrong about how much Geralt talks in the show. It’s not all just hmm. Relative to all of his dialog there’s not actually that much of that. 
I very much enjoy the way Geralt’s deduction skills are shown here. And also how he confronts royalty as someone who is both not a subject and has very little to lose in terms of social standing.
Stregobor!! AAAAAGH! He’s so awful 
“The all powerful sorceress Tissaia de Viress is knocked down from her glass pedestal.” Teenage rebellion Yenn (although that does oversimplify their relationship.)
Geralt just like... ignoring Triss’s questions is really good. There’s not nothing to the fanon characterization of Geralt.
Sniffing! Sniffing years old scents! How does Geralt function out in the world with all of that input? I guess he’s used to it. 
“Kings have done more for less.” “True.”
Istredd calls her Yenna!
“I will not be schooled by some man that pimps the world as some romantic adventure. My world is cruel. Unpredictable. You enter, you survive, you die.”
“You’re just angry because you lost your chance to be beautiful.” “I want to be powerful.” “Seen and adored with everyone watching.” “It is what I’m owed.” “No amount of power or beauty will ever make you feel worthy of either.” This whole exchange is so good. Yennefer and Istredd are young and flailing about but know each other to hit the mark a few times. 
The aesthetic of this ball is so confusing. What is that music? Maybe Yenn’s dress as “what a early 2000s teen thinks a witch should dress like” was more intentional than I thought. That’s what this party is too. It’s got a strong, for lack of a better word, fanon Harry Potter vibe. 
Angry Yenn! She has got to be so used to being able to emotionally beat down people by the time she meets Geralt. 
“This isn’t my first time trying to save a princess who others see as a monster.” “What happened to that princess?” “I killed her.” Geralt is fucking impeccably honest. That is a huge part of who he is as a person. What a thing to say to a king.  
The prostitute assumes Geralt was in love with the princess and Foltest assumes he is incapable of it. And Geralt does not correct him. 
“She was hiding from the brotherhood...” Wait!!! Did Yenn give the guard captain the curse?!? I think she could have timeline wise. 
Yenn chooses to keep her eyes and her scars. She also very explicitly knows what she is giving up. Which she, importantly, never puts up for debate. But this really isn’t informed consent. That is the life path she was, essentially, sold into. She also doesn’t get what she was promised in a court appointment. The thing that stands out to me on this watch is how little real power and influence Triss has in Temeria. I think it’s easy to suspect that Yenn didn’t put in her all at court, because by the time we see her next it’s been such a long time and she is so jaded. But I don’t think that’s the case at all. There is something going on here with women needing to be beautiful to exercise power and it also, simultaneously, undermining them. It’s a complex thing.
Geralt can be pretty fucking ruthless when he lets himself. Just abandoning captain dude to die. Not that he’s a good person or whatnot, but still. 
The snow particles add a lot to the aesthetic of the fight sequence with the striga. And the noises the striga makes are truly horrifying. 
Yennefer is insane to do this without any kind of pain relief. I read some very good meta about Yennefer believing it should hurt. I don’t have anything insightful to say about it. 
The little moments of Geralt being clever while fighting! I’m trapped so let me aard through the floor to escape. That is next level situational awareness! 
Yenn’s transformation intercut with Geralt fighting to break the striga curse. What does that imply? Lots but I’m really not sure exactly what. 
Geralt trapping himself in the crypt. It’s so clever but also feels like an act of desperation. And he’s relatively unscathed until the mostly uncursed but totally feral princess tries to eat him. 
Yenn and feral princess are in very similar fetal positions post transformation. 
Yenn’s face when she walks into the ball! It’s a really complicated face. Something about her ever so slightly vague open mouthed expression reminds me of Steve Rogers post Captain America transformation. It’s a similar “I have just undergone something incredibly painful and now am different” thing. 
So what would have happened if Yennefer ended up in Nilfgaard? Would it have made any difference?
“Anyone else would have killed the princess. You chose not to.” “I’ll take my coin now. I need to get back to my horse.” yeah sure Geralt. Triss knows you’re not in this just for the money. 
Vortex of Fate!!! This is not one of the episodes where they say destiny an unreasonable number of times, but Triss does say it there at the end. (And also the bit about destiny being related to choices.)
“I feel something waits out there for you. Something more.” CUT TO CIRI! There are a lot of really clever things with how these storylines are woven together. 
You know what? I did not miss Ciri at all this episode. Freya’s performance is good and there’s nothing wrong with the writing, but she is definitely the character and storyline I am least engaged with. 
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