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yellow-berrys · 1 year

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sweet weeping soul | remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: your friends aren't really your friends, and remus lupin helps you realise that. a (hopefully realistic) tale of toxic friendship and how one escapes from it, into healthy relationships, both platonic and romantic. angst -> fluff

aka five times you cry in front of remus and one time he cries in front of you.

warnings: toxic platonic relationships, crying, sadness, envy, insecurity

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Remus Lupin makes you feel different, not yourself, per se. Around him, you become soft and reserved. It’s rare you have a conversation anyway— for you never really talk to him, or spend heaps of time around him. Lily is friends with him and you’re friends with Lily, so by extension he is your good friend too.

He is prettier than you and so kind, always with a cuddly quarter zip on or a fuzzy sweater. Sometimes he looks at you like he might kiss you, but you’ve seen him with other people and he looks at them the same, dark lashes nearly touching.

Remus has been told that he’s soft, all his life. There’s a steadiness gleaming from his kind honey-brown eyes, and a certain gentlemanly way to his neat strands of light brown hair. There’s gentle written all over him, and he always has a sweater on in the colder seasons. He always looks quiet, and he always is quiet, preferring to leave the talking to Sirius or James. Remus is everything consistent and everything mellow. A little mystery is woven into the way he does everything too. It makes him elusive, more interesting.

Mostly, he begs to differ. If you really get to know him, he swears like a sailor and is scarred like one too. His humour is snarky and sometimes crude. But he guesses that other people might be right, because he forgives too easily and loves too hard.

Especially as you’re alone at breakfast, sitting at your place down the table and playing with your food. You look a bit distraught, he thinks. Where’s Lily? And everyone else? You clatter down your fork because everything looks unappetising. Even the delicacies the house-elves prepare so painstakingly look dull and dreadful.

Remus notices your self-deprecating expression as a Slytherin girl passes by you and waves. She looks at you inquisitively and you respond with a small smile that is the furthest thing from genuine. She leaves with an arm hooked into her boyfriend’s, both looking worried for you. As she passes where Remus and the other Marauders are sitting, Remus can hear tid-bits of dialogue.

“Poor thing,” she says.

Remus decides you’re definitely not okay when even Sirius hums, “L/n isn’t looking too well today.”

You’re talking to Professor McGonagall now, a more amused smile on your face as you joke with her. But when she leaves you return to looking downtrodden and when you push your plate forward and start to get up from your seat, your eyes look empty. It’s when you hurry past him that he decides that he should go after you.

Fast taps against the tiles of the hallways alarm you. You turn and there’s Remus, long legs gaining mileage on you. He reaches you and you step to the side to let him go past. You’re confused when he stops before you. His eyes flicker down to yours and they’re filled with concern.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile politely and it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Remus hates it.

“I’m sorry if this comes off weird or creepy, but I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t look very happy,” he says quietly.

You laugh. Again, it doesn’t sound right. It sounds forced and stuffy, “It’s not weird and I’m fine.”

“Where are your friends?” he asks, gently.

You shrug. It’s heavy enough that Remus can tell that you care a lot.

“They’re all gone?”

“I heard them early in the morning,” you say, nodding slowly.

“Are you okay then?”

No. You had heard all the girls in the dorm giggling as they got ready at six in the morning, tippy-toeing around your bed. When you peeked an eye open, feigning slumber, Lily was wearing one of her date night dresses, a pretty sun-dress that was only used for picnics. Trixie from Hufflepuff was there, and so was Olive. You squeezed your eyes shut and when they were all gone you noticed the picnic basket was missing. Dread pooled in your stomach and you tried in all your might to believe that they went for a date or were going to come back up to invite you. You thudded down the stairs and asked a first year sitting by the portrait about them.

“They were talking about a big group date,” she swung her legs, “Something about a park.”

You had smiled, “Thanks.”

You look at Remus, “Yeah.” But your voice breaks embarrassingly midway and your tired, disappointed mood starts to wear through. It’s impossible to put up a front in front of Remus, who’s gazing at you in such a fret. But he’s Lily’s friend and Lily surely had her reasons to not invite you. After all, you have your problems. It makes sense that it’s probably your fault and Remus deserves not to know.

Remus tries to gauge the problem out of you- wheedle it and make it clear that he does care. Somewhere in your half-hearted smiles he’s developed a crush on you because he thinks your attempts to make him less worried are so sweet.

But you simply shake your head every time he wants to know what’s wrong and ignore that he’s very close and very handsome.

You set off to your dormitory, but realise that you don’t really want to be there. Remus can tell from the conflicted look in your face.

“I’ll sit with you in the common room and you can please, please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

He says it so earnestly that you nod, “Okay.”

“I woke up this morning and they were all getting ready for something, with the hair curler and dresses. That means going out, usually. And Lily was wearing her picnic dress, the one with little flowers on it. I heard them giggling as they all went out and I thought maybe they’ll come back for me. But when I sat up there wasn’t anyone in their beds and the picnic basket was gone. I didn’t know what had happened so I went downstairs to ask this first-year and she said they were going on a group trip, plus James.

“I feel so left out,” your bottom lip wobbles, “Because if this was a one time thing, I wouldn’t feel so bad, but they do this all the time. And I’m tired of constantly trying to join them when they haven’t even invited me in the first place. Every time they hang out they never think of me. I mean, they invited Trixie and Olive, and I wish I could say I’m closer to them than Trixie and Olive but I don’t think that’s true anymore. Every time. I’m sick of trying to take the initiative to make plans, and if I don’t they never think about me.

“In the holidays, they all went out to see this movie, and I get it, they all live near each other but they invited Hannah from Slytherin and not a word to me,” Remus’ heart pangs a little bit hearing your trembling tone, “It was only when I wrote to them asking if they wanted to see it with me that Lily said she had already seen it and so had Mary and Dorcas and everyone else. Okay, I accepted it, I did, and said we could go to the art gallery but no one replied.

“I tie my shoelaces and they never wait for me, but when they tie their shoelaces suddenly I have to be there, no matter what. And I can’t ever hang out with two of them because the others feel ostracised, even though they always leave me out. Lily gives me strange looks when I chat to Dorcas for more than 3 minutes straight. Once we were talking about volunteering for a charity and she looked back at me as if I was neglecting her, accusatorily. I wasn’t going to volunteer with Dorcas anyway, she lives in the Highlands. But then she can go and wrap gifts with Mary at the mall and not invite me,” your voice wavers.

“I know it’s small, but it hurts so much. The worst thing is that I’m the problem here. There has to be a reason why they never invite me and I don’t know what it is. I try to be a perfect friend and I always wait for them when they pack their bags at Potions even if everyone else is leaving. I don’t get it and it’s bothering me,” you cry out, eyes watering.

Remus wants to cry too seeing you cry, “Oh, darling.”

“I don’t understand what is wrong with me,” you despair, “I might not be the prettiest thing in the world, but I try,” voice cracking.

He needs to have a word with Lily, he thinks.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, gorgeous,” he murmurs, “Don’t blame yourself.”

“But there is. They’re really nice people, why can’t I see it?”

“Maybe they’re not nice people,” he offers.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper, “Lily’s dating James. Mary’s dating Peter. Dorcas is in your bookclub.”

“Well, love, they’re not very nice to you. And no she’s not, far from it actually, no he’s not, they split, and no, she left.”

“Guess I need a life update then.”

“Why don’t you talk to them about it?”

You murmur, “I hate confrontation and why would they change just because I told them to? I’m scared, Rem.”

“I get it, beautiful. You can sit with me and Peter and James and Sirius and Marlene and Queenie and Jolene at lunchtimes and whenever you want.”

He’s so good, he doesn’t ask any questions or push you. Your teary eyes gaze up at him in wonder and admiration and no one’s ever looked at him like you do now. Here he goes again, loving too hard.

“Really? I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Never, lovely.”

You surge and hug him, which catches him by surprise but he melts into it. It’s the nicest hug he’s been given, ever. He doesn’t get many as a guy, and usually they’re half-hearted and rough, but yours is grateful and warm. He’s all red and flustered after it but he doesn’t think you notice and you don’t.

“We’re about to head to Hogsmeade, you wanna join us?”

You think about it, “After I get these tears off my face.” You hurry up the stairs before he can say a word.

“Nice going, Moons,” Sirius barges in from wherever he was hiding in the first place, hair slightly dishevelled, “You got some chocolate? I didn’t finish breakfast trying to stealthily tail you both up the stairs.”

“He is just so delicious,” Mary sighs. You laugh, “Who, Peter?”

“Oh not Peter. Remus Lupin.”

You smile. Delicious.

“Pfft, Peter. I only dated him to get closer to Remus.”

Your smile turns into something that’s unsettled, but she’s too busy ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing over his “washboard abs” to see you, even though he’s got an ungodly amount of layers on.

“Speaking of, I think I have a crush on him!” she squeals and you smile again, kind of creeped out by her behaviour. You’re sure you’re just too sensitive about these things, “Will you introduce me?”

“Sure,” you lead her to where Remus is reading the paper. He looks up and he doesn’t give anything away. He's a mystery when he’s not too busy being soft. In reality, he can feel his heart start to speed up and his cheeks warm.

“Hey, he’s blushing,” Mary whispers. Although it’s loud, Remus can hear it and feels self-conscious.

You whisper back, “Shhh, I’m sure he’s not. Hi Remus.”

Remus nods at you, “Morning.”

“Oh he says morning, what a cutie,” Mary giggles and you giggle too, though Remus hears the strain your voice is in.

“Remus, meet Mary Macdonald. She’s my friend. Mary, meet Remus.”

Hm. Remus thinks, remembering to be polite. He should give her the benefit of the doubt. He extends a hand, “Hello Mary.”

You watch their interaction, spiking a little bit of disappointment in you. Is it at Mary paying more attention to Remus than you (and rightly so, you think. If you were that pretty you’d have people clawing at your feet too.) or because Remus might like Mary?

You miss how Mary looks at Remus hungrily. He swallows, uncomfortable, looking towards you and grimacing. You nod, a minute dip of your head, and carefully pry Mary away from him.

“C’mon Mary, you promised to drop me off at my class.”

She studies her nails, “Actually, I need to go to the bathroom. You think you’d be okay with going alone?”

It’s not really a question, and your face falls. You walk alone. Remus has just witnessed Mary lying, because instead of turning three halls down to the left and turning to the right one hall down, she begins to flirt with him. It sours his opinion of her.

“You free this Saturday?”

He shakes his head, “Nope.”

“Next Saturday?”

“Nah.”

She sighs, “Handsome, let’s not play hard to get.”

He shrugs, “I’m not.”

“Why won’t you?”

Remus isn’t brutal enough to tell her the real truth, which is that he hasn’t heard good things about her. So he says, “I’m not interested and you dated my friend and broke his heart,” which is pretty accurate in itself.

“Enigmatic.”

He sighs, returning to his paper.

A few hours later, you’re confronted with an awful truth as Remus sits peacefully opposite you reading a book. He’s in pure bliss as his eyes skim the page and his fingertips brush the edges of the paper. His hair flops in front of his eyes and you resist the urge to touch it. There’s a little smile on his lips.

You like Remus a lot, and you can’t, because Mary likes him. It feels forbidden, and you can’t imagine how Mary would react. Friends didn’t like other friends’ crushes, they stayed a comfortable distance away from them. Rule 2 in the book. And Mary brings it up at night.

“Say, Y/n, would you mind not being so close to Remus?”

You’re finishing up a Transfiguration essay and look at her, caught off guard.

“I’m not actually that close with him,” you laugh, “At least not romantically.”

She narrows her eyes, “Yeah, I know that. As if he would ever be romantic.” with you, she means.

You’re silent, ignoring her dig at you. This is a critical part of how to be a good friend. You don’t want to ruin Mary’s ventures with Remus but you really like him, both platonically and romantically.

“Could you back off? I know you both are friends and whatever but I need this.”

You chew on your lip. It’s a shame, because you did like him and Peter and Sirius and James and Marlene and Jolene and Queenie. You still want to be friends with him. But Mary has a jealous streak and you’ve seen the girls who she’s left torn and beaten.

“I don’t think I’ll ruin your chances, Mary.”

“Neither do I,” she says harshly.

You’re struck by her sudden tone. It’s curt, snappy and it’s loud. It hurts. You immediately find the tears swarm in your eyes. So you startle, “I forgot, I need to go find Marlene to get some advice on the essay.”

“Since when have you known Marlene Mckinnon?”

You leave, tears flowing as you furiously wipe them away. Remus is downstairs with Sirius, and Sirius is begging for chocolate for some reason. You catch his eye. He immediately calls to you, but you pretend to not hear. You can’t hang out with him anymore. You hurry down to the Prefect bathroom. It’s always empty there.

You sit down by the bath, pacing out your breaths. Soon you calm down, and when you have the energy to look around you, you see Remus leaning against the door. There’s a crease between his brow.

“Rem, I can’t be near you much anymore,” you blink at him, “This won’t be a surprise to you but Mary really likes you. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable, or think I’m trying to steal you from her.”

Remus’ frown only deepens, as you refuse to meet his eyes. He hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts your head up.

“Aren’t you?” he grins. He thinks if he’s going to want you he might as well want you right.

You bring your hands to his and you gently take them away, patting his hand, “Don’t. Even if I’m friends with you, it’s too friendly for Mary.”

“Honey, you don’t need to do what Mary says.”

“It’s not what Mary says. It’s Rule 2 in the book.”

He laughs, “Rule 2 in the book. And what’s Rule 1?”

“Never leave your girls hanging for boys. I feel like I’ve betrayed her.”

“Well, you can always hang with the others, right?”

You nod, “We’ll see. I’ll see you around?”

His eyes are filled with something unreadable and mysterious. He wants to be with you, so badly, he wants imploringly to show you what you mean to him. But he nods, he understands, and pecks you on the cheek. “Remus!” you admonish. He’s smirking away, the last you see of him is the imprints of a shy smile, latent and alluring.

You smile, feeling bitter as you tell Mary, “I’ll leave Lupin alone, Mary.”

She flickers her eyes up at you, “I didn’t think you weren’t going to.” She looks bored, and you feel nothing but disappointment.

“Wait up, Lily!” You call. You wish you didn’t need to, but you guess that you’re forgettable.

She stops, a little disgruntled.

“What’s got you so excited for today?” You ask her, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Well, certainly not Potter going to ask me out and me to reject him. He hasn’t in a while, so that’s been a relief.”

You laugh, “Are you missing it?”

“Never.”

“Don’t you think rejecting him that harshly is a little sad?”

It’s true. He’s nothing but nice in his advances. All he does is give her flowers, most of the time he doesn’t say anything but frown when Lily pushes the flowers roughly back into his grasp, and leaves disappointedly. He’s been doing this for only a little while, and he looks less and less infatuated with Lily each time. Once she turned to you smugly, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Must be nice having no guys pestering you for attention,” she had told you.

You had cheerfully agreed with her, but inside you were heartbroken.

Lily enters the hall, an expectant look on her face. Instead of James waiting by the big door, he’s eating, no flowers or chocolates in sight. Remus turns and gives you the tiniest smile. You give him a sympathetic one.

“Huh. No flowers.”

You stay quiet. If you say something, it’ll come out berating or pathetic to Lily. Maybe if she didn’t always brutally dismiss him or flame him to no ends, he might continue, but isn’t this what she wanted?

You talk to Queenie, who pouts, “Can’t tell you, sorry Y/n.”

You’ve seen James with Regulus, the latter denying his love though not like Lily had. It’s accepted and Regulus returns the affections, though in his own cold way. James looks happy whenever he’s with Regulus.

Lily calls to James, “Potter, I didn’t see you water the plants today.”

James shrugs, “Okay, Evans. They’re watered. I got someone to do it. Someone much more competent than me.”

At that he winks at Regulus, who goes red and smiles tenderly. Sirius rolls his eyes, whispering to James, “Oi, eyes off my brother or you won’t have eyes at all tomorrow.”

Lily’s curt all day long, and snippy. You don’t dare to say a word to her and tippy toe endlessly after she scowls at you for asking if she wants some hot chocolate.

At the end of the day when you’ve come back with accompanying Dorcas to the Potions storeroom and three of the girls come surging, whisking Lily away but never offering you with the same warmth. At the end, you quietly slip away from the group. You have this harrowing feeling you don’t actually belong with them. No one notices and you press your lips together.

“Girl’s night!!” Dorcas yells.

There’s only a little more to go till you graduate and you’re officially able to leave the dormitory. Maybe they aren’t so good for you. You just wish you could be included more, cherished. What if I don’t deserve to be cherished? The question swirls in your mind, distressing you. When you bump into Marlene near the quidditch field, trucking down from practice, she sets down her broomstick and takes off her gloves.

“Don’t see you here often, darl,” she sits next to you, “You’re in the firing zone of Sirius’ wild bludgers, by the way.”

Sirius is hovering above, hitting bludgers fiercely. One zooms past your shoulder, only because Marlene nudges her broomstick to the bludger. You barely flinch.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

You look at her, “Yeah, I’m good. Just wanted to get some fresh air.”

“At 8 in the night? Where are your friends?”

You feel so vulnerable right now. “I’m- I’m with you. You’re my friend.”

“I know. Okay,” Marlene thinks for a second, “Where are your dorm mates?”

You sob, “They’re having a girl’s night.”

“Without you?”

“I…” To be truthful, you don’t know where you are with your friends. It makes you even more emotional. You feel tears well up in your eyes. Marlene makes a strained noise and you see she’s crying too.

“Oh, don’t make me cry too,” she sobs, “I can’t handle emotions.”

Sirius notices, and nearly gets taken over by a bludger. “Moony,” he shouts, “We’ve got a problem.”

“We’ve or you’ve?” Remus asks dryly from the sidelines.

“You’ve. Not I’ve but you’ve,” Sirius points to where both you and Marlene are sobbing together.

“I’m only one man, there are two of them,” Remus looks at Sirius meaningfully.

“Fine.”

“Which one do you want?”

“Marlene.”

Sirius flies over to Marlene, mounting his broomstick.

“Marlene, you good?” He crouches down on the grass.

She glares at him, tearily, “Do I look okay to you, Black?”

“Right, well, why are you sad?” Sirius has the tact of a three year old although Marlene’s too busy crying to care.

Marlene points at you, “She’s sad, so I’m sad.”

Sirius hops up, and pats the incoming Remus on the back. “They’re all yours, Buster.”

Remus sits down next to you, “You know, there’s a cloud over there that looks like James.”

It really doesn’t, it’s night and you can’t see much. But it makes you huff a laugh out. Remus relaxes. Marlene stops crying.

“It’s pitch black, idiot,” she grins.

He smiles boyishly.

“Marlene?” you peek up at her, still halfway to dry eyes.

“Mm?”

“Can I stay at your dorm for the night? I don’t really feel like going back to mine.”

“Sure. Okay, I need a shower. I can’t be hugging you all stinky and sweaty.”

“You smell great,” you smile at her.

“Thanks.”

“No problemo.”

You turn to Remus, “Shuffle over some ten centimetres please. For Mary.”

“Mary’s having a girl’s night without you, sweet thing, does she really matter?” Remus moves nonetheless.

“Yeah,” you hiccup, “I want to be a good friend.”

He doesn’t question you and leaves it at that.

Marlene comes out, drying her hair with a towel.

“Are we good to go?”

“Yeah!”

“C’mon.”

You look back, “Bye Remus!”

He’s smiling so softly your heart thuds. It’s the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You wonder what he’s thinking about.

He’s thinking about you. Sweet weeping soul.

The scene’s set. It’s a sweeping plain overlooking the rest of Hogwarts, symbolic and gradual. This is where you’ll graduate. It’s bitter, but you’re mostly ready to move on from school. Of course, you’ll miss days spent with fellow students and the teachers, and the school grounds where you spent so much time laughing and loving, but you think you’re okay with going solo. You haven’t worked out where you’ll be staying, there’s still ten weeks left in the school year where seventh years hang around aimlessly and try to soak up as much of Hogwarts as they can. But you know if you don’t find a place to stay, you can always bunk with your parents.

You already find yourself shedding tears, as you go up to give a speech. After the procession, McGonagall calls you over.

“Oh darling,” she cries, mascara muddied from her watery eyes, “I’ll miss you so much. Thank you for being such a good student. Have you got a place to stay? A job? I’ll always be open to giving you the Transfiguration professor role so I can focus on being Deputy Headmaster.”

You laugh, “Professor-”

“Please, we’re both adults now. Minerva, or Minnie, or Mins, or Nerve.”

“Nerve?!”

“Sirius Black does have some calling me that.”

Both of you let out watery chuckles.

“Minnie, thank you so much for being my Professor,” you wipe the corner of your eye, “Oh I have to do this eleven more times. You know, I’ve learnt so much from you and you’re just a dear. I can’t believe I’m leaving this place, forever. Not yet, and yes, I applied for a position in the Ministry.”

“Don’t forget Hogwarts. Please visit, weekly.”

“I will, and I won’t forget about that Transfiguration job.”

“Please, remember it, you always had a competence for most things you did. Even Magical Music, which I remember you saying you hated, despised, loathed, and were terrible at, but Professor Quavers thought you were a very capable student.”

“Minnie,” you weep into her shoulder, hugging her, “Please remember me.”

“I couldn’t ever forget you,” she leans to whisper, “You are one of my favourite students.”

It makes you cry even harder. In the end, you take a picture with her and exchange emails, phone lines, addresses. She hands you an envelope, which later you learn encloses automatic recommendation letters and some gift cards.

This is done eleven times more, teachers bestowing you with gifts and promises of communication. By the end, your hands are full and you put the things in your bag by your chair, going to join Lily, Dorcas, Mary, Alice in taking photos. Mary’s voice shouts, “I still like Remus Lupin!”

“Cheers to the new apartment!” Dorcas’ father says, “What beautiful girls.”

You freeze. They had an apartment planned and ready? Maybe you’re ready to leave your friends. You turn away, crying more when you see Queenie.

She beckons you over, “Come take photos with us.”

You smile. Everyone huddles close. Remus is beside you, all wily and eyes sparkling with tears. “You alright, darling?”

“I’ll miss you, Rem. You know I haven’t really gotten to talk to you much, but you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me.”

“Ask her!” Jolene hisses.

“Right, so, I, we, the guys and the girls, are going to rent apartments with each other. Do you want to join us?”

You’re starstruck. You start crying in his arms, and he looks very concerned.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t keep them in. Of course I want to join you, you guys are amazing.”

“Sweetness…” he wipes your eyes with a handkerchief he has yet to use.

“Remus, Mary, remember? She still likes you. I know you’re only doing this as friends and she does too, but she doesn’t like people hanging around…” you meet his eyes.

He looks at you again in that unreadable way and you don’t know what to do. Sirius is quietly taking pictures of you two with his expensive camera. He likes the way Remus looks at you and the way you don’t seem to know what it means. Fine photography. Would make an excellent engagement gift. I'm so smart. He flips the camera. And so handsome.

"Get a load of you," James scoffs.

You haven’t watched Mean Girls yet. Queenie finds that astounding, and so everyone must attend the movie marathon she holds. You hang your coat up on the rack, stepping out of your shoes and sighing.

“How was work?” Marlene asks.

“That question makes me feel so old,” you huff, cracking your joints, “It was so-so. Marcus tried to harass Heron into getting Jerome out of the project that he and Heather are working on.”

“Oh really. That mother-”

“Evening!” Sirius barges into the apartment, wearing his suit, “Did you know, Marcus was-”

“Harassing Heron into getting Jerome out of the project that he and Heather are working on,” you finish, “How does the public relations sector know that?”

“We do have excellent public relations.”

“Where’s James?”

“He’s picking up Regulus.”

“Awh,” you coo.

“I wish James had a sibling so I could date them too,” Sirius grouches.

“Don’t be like that, Pads,” Peter strides to the fridge, kissing Jolene on the cheek and grabbing a can of kombucha, “They’re so good together.”

“Good my a-”

“Language!” Marlene calls.

Someone knocks on the door. You open it and Remus is standing, stretching. A little strip of skin shows as his shirt lifts. His top button is undone and he looks tired. But he still looks at you the same, red on his cheeks and red lips turning up. I can’t be loving him like this, you think, it’s overwhelming.

“Hey,” you open the door.

He smiles at you, “Doing well, honey?” He doesn’t say much at all, but when he does it’s always followed by a “beautiful” or “pretty” or “doll”.

A chorus of greetings come from around the television. He nods, turning back to you, “I gave exams back today. Talked my quota full.”

Beaming at him, you hand him a bowl of popcorn, “We’re fine with it. You speak as much as you want.”

He smiles at you again. He’s doing a lot of that. But then again, he’s always like this when he’s tired. At a bar, he’ll be tilting his head, smiling at you through fatigued eyes, begging James to go home. When he’s up grading papers, he’ll be smiling at you, the same melting eyes and lashes nearly touching. And you always say, “How much of your soul did you trade to the devil for those lashes?”

He never gets it, and he says, “Comes with the beard I need to shave off every morning.”

You’re snapped back by a slamming of the door as James comes in with Regulus.

He’s right– he doesn’t talk much, just sitting back on the sofa, observing and listening. He watches you most of the time, and he sees when you’re about to cry. Your breathing gets unsteady and eyes start finding anything else to look at. You tremble as you reach for popcorn, and excuse yourself multiple times, and you manage to stop crying mostly. None of your friends notice much, too busy yelling at the screen, but he does.

You start bawling when Regina’s influence over the rest of the girls vanishes, and Remus immediately turns to you, leading you across the hall.

“I’m so sorry,” you ramble, “Why is it that I’m always crying when I see you?”

Remus doesn’t mind– he likes that you feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable around him.

“It’s just that– that movie reminded me so much of my old friends and it’s all too overwhelming thinking about them. I mean, they haven’t called, I don’t know where they live and I’m so grateful but also I feel so bad about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay. They didn’t deserve you.”

“I know, but the movie hit so close to home, Rem. I’m so glad to have you.”

Remus pretends that by ‘you’, you mean him, knowing it means the whole group of them.

You sob quietly, bundling his shirt into your hands. He lets you, and he’s quiet about it. You’re a sweet weeping soul, rendered that by your ex-friends. But he wants you so much.

“Good news,” you announce, going into Remus’ apartment to recite to him what you had just read in your weekly mail, “McGonagall got a dog, his name is Hubert and he’s a border collie. Also, Mary has a boyfriend.”

You had had to write to Mary to tell her you were moving across the corridor from Remus. She hadn’t replied. None of your friends had bothered to ask where you would stay. You had decided those friendships were over. Still, you kept a friendly distance from Remus. You had only known she’s gotten a boyfriend when the boy himself wrote to you asking you for your blessing. You had written back, telling him that you and Mary were no longer friends, but nonetheless that you wished them well. It was a sign that you were truly over it.

You’re searching through his apartment, when you hear quiet sniffles coming from his room. You knock, then enter. Your heart aches as you see Remus leaning against the wall, crying.

“Rem…”

“Go away,” he mutters, muffled.

“Remus.”

“Oh.” he doesn’t lift his head to look at you. You sit next to him on the floor.

“What happened?”

“I like this girl.”

You try to fight your own disappointment back, and smile, though it’s warped.

“Yeah?”

“There’s no way in hell she likes me back. I mean I’ve done everything to show her I do. I’ve called her pet names, tried to be charming, hell, I’ve even flirted.”

The disappointment is winning.

“And I get it, because I’m all gnarly. But it hurts.”

He continues, “And she’s…perfect. Like, really beautiful. She’s kind, so charming, so empathetic and she has the prettiest smile.”

You pretend you’re glad for him. You’re really not. You want to leave, maybe he’ll stop talking about her. But you still listen, because you do care. As much as it hurts you to know he likes another girl, it also hurts you to know he’s sad. Lovely, caring Remus, with his shyness and comfortable silences.

“She’s really everything to me, and I don’t think I’m much to her.”

“Don’t say things like that, Remus,” you begin, “You’re a great guy, and any girl would be lucky to have you, especially her.” The words don’t sit quite right, they feel sour on your tongue.

“I’m not good enough for her.”

The words crush you, and you frown.

“Hey!” you snap, “Remus John Lupin, you are so good, and so kind. I can’t bear to hear you badmouth yourself like this. You are not gnarly. I think you're charming. Love yourself for me, Remus, please.”

He looks at you, eyes swarming with that emotion.

“Thank you, darling.”

–

Remus catches you by surprise when he’s standing by your desk.

“What are you doing here, Remus?”

“Good evening, fine sir! How are you doing? I’m well, thank you!”

“No, seriously,” you cross your arms, “This is the intelligence department. How did you get in here?”

“Let’s just say, your boss is a 60 year old woman, and I sure know my way around them from playing bingo with my grandmother and her friends every Saturday.”

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” And he looks better too, creases gone from under his eyes, which are now blinking endearingly at you. He had told himself he would tell you, and that would be it. Queenie tells him that you do like him, but he can’t believe her. He’s tapping his foot nervously.

“I am. When will you be off work?”

“I just have to send this email and I’ll be done.”

“Great!” He pulls out a book and starts reading. You finish your email, click send, shut off your computer and reorganise the files on your desk. You put on your coat, and put your bag on.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” he asks.

"Yep.”

“Lovely, we’re going to take a stroll around the block. It’s a…thanks for the other day.”

You smile, “You’re more than welcome.”

You pass by a flower shop. He stops, “Hey, I want to get a present for you know- her.”

You feel your heart pang, “Yeah, sure," and then follows the obligatory, "Need some help?”

“Obviously.”

You step in and the bells jingle. A friendly shop attendant pokes her head from where she’s cutting roses.

“Hi Remus,” she grins at him, wiggling her eyebrows and he blushes, “And you are?”

You smile, “I’m Y/n.”

“Petunia Evans.”

“Lily?”

“Yes. Are you his girlfriend?”

You laugh, you’re flattered that anyone would ever think you’re his girlfriend, “Oh, I’m not his girlfriend. We’re actually here to find Remus’ crush a present! I’m Y/n,” you shake her hand.

“His crush, you say?”

“Yeah, his crush! By the way, I’ll tell you my favourite flower, can you psychoanalyse me?”

She giggles, “Okay!”

You whisper it in her ear and she starts a long tale of surprisingly accurate details of your life.

“Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks. Remus, is there anything you’re looking for in particular? For this crush?”

Remus blushes.

You go to inspect the flowers at the front to hopefully get cheered up by the bees and the butterflies that touch down on little sprigs of pollen. You won’t revert to the sweet weeping soul that they made you. Remus buys some flowers and sets them down on the counter.

Petunia takes her dinner break and slips out of the building quietly. You’re admiring the little glass panes on the wall which let the right amount of light through, walking backwards and around the room. Remus is wondering when he should do it, turning uncertainly and walking towards you. You turn quickly too, “Remus, look at the ceil-”

You crash into him. He catches you, flowers in one hand, you in the other. You’re very close to him– he smells like a forest and chocolate. His eyes flicker to yours and there’s the expression again.

“Sorry,” you smile, stepping away. He doesn’t let go of you, instead pulling you closer. You look up to him with wide eyes and he’s so red all of a sudden. He brings the flowers to cover his face.

“These are for you,” he murmurs.

“Awh, but you really didn’t need to,” you grin, bringing the flowers up to your nose, “I offer my services for free!” They are so nice, and he's so nice.

“Services?”

“You know, helping you pick out the flowers and all.”

He sighs, “Darling, I don’t know how else to say this, but, I want you. I don’t have a crush, you’re my crush, I just never had the guts to say it. I want you by my side, all the time. It was hell on earth trying to stay away from you all these years because of Mary. I don’t know if you even like me, but I really, really like you, maybe even love you.”

You open your mouth, then shut it, eyes wide with sparkling, “I like you too.”

“Really? Because you don’t need to say it back just because you’re nice, I’m a lot of things but I don’t know if handsome or boyfriend material is one of them.”

“Rem, I adore you. You are so pretty and you always are comfortable when I’m crying and upset and raging.”

“Can we try this out then?”

“Of course we can. I’d do anything for you, Remus Lupin.”

“And I promise I’ll never make you a sweet weeping soul.”

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talesfrommedinastation · 3 months

Text

My Redneck Neighbor Doug has watched The Bad Batch Season 3 opener:

LEEEEET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

This is more pithy than normal: Doug's been busy with work, as have I. But I'm determined to hear his thoughts on The Daddy Warcrimes 'n Company so here we go!

These were all via text messages, btw.

CW: Doug Doug's as you know Doug will do. Away!

---------------------------------------------------

Episode 1: 'Little Orphan Blondie's Shit Internship at The Museum of Science and Industry'

Poor Little Orphan Blondie, stuck in The Museum of Science and Industry in a shit summer job because they got bills to pay. Except they got rid of the dinosaurs and walk in heart and filled it with gross shit.

Hey look, they still got the coal mine exhibit! Man I miss Chicago.

(Doug, that museum has never had dinosaurs. “What, since when?”)

MUTANT JIMMERS EVERYWHERE! Aw, Little Orphan Blondie gave one her chicken nuggets! And it’s shy, aw, I hope it’s okay.

Poor Mutant Jimmers…she named her?! Swear to Christ Almighty if that dog gets Old Yeller’d I’ll just lose it.

That freaky alien thing that ran the mall on the ocean looks sad, I bet she wishes she fell into the water and got eaten by a shark or something. I wish you did too, lady.

The Sons of Robocop really are everywhere, they must be a cult or something. They look cool, I’d join, why not. Think they get 401ks?

Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes is down bad. Poor Daddy Warcrimes. Man, all my clone boys are stooped and sad…this ain’t good.

At least Little Orphan Blondie can craft! Man, she should start selling those at the Museum of Science and Industry’s gift shop. Maybe Tarkin can bring one back for the grandchildren he’s not allowed to talk to since the restraining order was put in.

Oh, there’s Stepsister Beth, she seems on edge. Must’ve gotten divorced recently, don’t blame her ex, I bet she screamed at him for leaving cabinets open who knows. How do her eyeballs not hurt after wearing those dumb glasses all day?

Episode 2: 'Night Elves and Neverland Ranch'

The night elves from Warcraft invaded Star Wars and got horns or something and now they have a castle that looks like a boss level in Diablo IV or V or how many Diablo games they got now.

Now they yelling at people and throwing them in the basement today. Makes sense, gotta fight the orcs and stuff. Think they fight the orcs in the basement?

The Night Elf Horned Queen hired Daddy Rambo and Julio to get people, I guess they’re turning into Boba Fett or something. They got her son's horn back, guess that's good. Oh they need new paint jobs on their armor.

Do they end up in the basement in the Diablo Boss Level? No? And off they go!

Daddy Rambo and Julio are in their homeland of FLORIDA! Hell yeah, SPACE FLORIDA! And they’re bringing the talking trashcan with them using straps! Go Julio go! Yeah, boa vines, this is TOTALLY the Everglades!

Escaped clone boys! Oh man! Shit, is Neverland Ranch in the jungle? Oh man–oh, they know what they’re doing. Good kids. Real good kids. Oh what happened to the rest of them? Oh Meat Muffin, this ain't good :(.

You know what? Them clone boys are smart, take it back, this ain’t Space Florida, this is Space Louisiana! Them baby boys gone get feral and run off into the bayou and live in the caves and now you know my origin story, Meat Muffin!

If this was Florida they'd just end up working the late shift at Zaxby's and smoking rocks in the parking lot. We know better, we French and all.

I bet they’ve been living on nutria and half-empty chicken boxes from behind the gas stations. Resourceful scrappy kids and I can tell its making Daddy Rambo proud.

Oh holy SHIT, there go them vines! It's like the kudzu all over again, maybe this is LaFourche Parish?

See, them boys are definitely white trash, Mandalorian rednecks. Look at em, living in the woods and hijacking a plane, but they good kids, saving their brothers. Even saved the robot too.

Man, all the feels, them poor little boys. What will they do now? Oh, they're going to Space Daytona! Good, wait, I saw the trailer, doesn't the Empire invade it? THIS AIN'T GOOD MEAT MUFFIN!!!

Wait...where's Toaster Strudel and Rex?

Episode 3: 'Blondie Got a Gun'

Well here's the Emperor. He wants to be immortal. Gotta make that other movie make sense or something.

Where's Darth Vader? Is he running the government when the Emperor is running around giggling?

Don’t you DARE kill Mutant Jimmers, you damn droid. I hate that ugly assed stupid thing. It looks like its scarecrow daddy fucked a microwave and then left it enough money to go to Planned Parenthood but instead spent it on crack and there ya go.

Oh shut your goddamned yap, Jimmy the Scientist. I bet he gloves that hand up because he keeps shoving it up his own ass and that's why he walks funny all the damn time.

The Emperor also has a Diablo IV or VIII boss level all to himself too at the Museum of Science and Industry. How many Diablo games are there, Meat Muffin?

YEAH, LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE! GIT ER DONE!!! They're out! Oh wow! There she goes with Daddy Warcrimes! Kill em all and let GOD SORT THEM OUT! That's my GIRL!!!!

Blondie’s got a gun

Her whole world's come undone

Shooting droids is FUN!

GO MUTANT JIMMERS GO!!!!

YEAH BLONDIE DADDY WARCRIMES AND MUTANT JIMMERS!!!!!!

I AIN'T A BULLS FAN BUT REPEAT THE THREE PEAT! YEAH!!!!!!

....so when we gonna get Toaster Strudel and Rex? Next one? Where's my reg boys?!

-----------------

Tagging those who missed my Cajun neighbor. LOOKS LIKE REDNECK DOUG IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!

@skellymom @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @merkitty49 @supremechancellorrex @yeehawgeek @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @deezlees @autistic-artistech @perfectlywingedcrusade @auntie-venom @megmca @thecoffeelorian

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #redneck doug #doug watches star wars #star wars tv #cajun doug #doug why #star wars fans #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #bad batch season 3 #tbb season three #tbb spoilers #tbb s3 #fan reaction

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slocumjoe · 1 year

Text

ways people write the companions that make me go hmmm

Gage excluded because I haven't seen enough portrayals of him

Cait; Poor Cait has such confusing, odd writing choices that I can’t blame anyone for doing this, but...when she’s boiled down to either Tough Irish Gal or Traumatized, with little dimension. Again, Bethesda does this themselves in text, depending on ??? so it’s not, like, a big deal. My advice for writing Cait is to remember that she exists outside of being Irish or Traumatized. She’s read/read about Freud, for example. So, she presumably learned to read, likely self-taught. If she read something psychology related, she must have taken an interest in it. That sort of thing. The best way to write Cait is to not take the obvious answer, because Cait’s depth itself isn’t obvious.

Curie; When people write Curie as a stupid, horny, smol bean 2 gud 4 dis world, i throw up in my mouth. Same as Cait, this is Bethesda’s fault. They have a habit of going for funny dialogue instead of sensible. There is no reason for Curie to say half the shit she does, she says it because someone thought it was funny, or worse, sexy. I’d recommend going through Curie’s likes/dislikes and dialogue even more so than I do other companions. Curie has a lot of edges if you go looking for them. Y’know Covenant? Curie supports Covenant. Also, she’s literally a robot in a human body. She’s 200+ years old, too. Make her fucking weird. Y’know how elves/fae are? Like that. Bonus if you make her friendliness off-putting. Being friends with a doctor gets annoying, speaking from personal experience. Also, being a doctor, she knows all about sex and sexual pleasure. She’s not confused what a dick is

Hancock; please acknowledge other aspects of his character beyond horny, sad, or high. He has them, I swear. Do you even know his parents’ names? No. You care only about ghoul dick or stoner jokes. He’s not even a stoner, he does the Fallout equivalent of meth/adderall. Much like Deacon, he does and thinks about other shit. I joke with Hancock as well, but you might notice that none of my actual reacts/headcanons open and close with shit like “he huffs some jet with one hand, fingers you with the other, and thinks about how he sucks”

Danse; i promise you, Paladin Danse is not hypervigilant of people’s asses/tits/dicks/whatevers. He’s not imagining having sex with your busty Sole every time he looks at them. That’s not just not Danse, it’s also very creepy and dehumanizing to both Danse and Sole. Is Sole not more than their tits? Other companions get the too-horny treatment as well, but I see Danse getting it worse of all. Sometimes he��s written as absolute manchild regarding sex, knowing literally nothing, same as Curie. I say Danse doesn’t know what jerking off is as a joke, but he probably knows. But Chronic Virgin Danse is usually a light-hearted joke, Hypersexual Danse is just fucking weird. It gets into unhealthy territory. Like...Danse wouldn’t want to fight people flirting with his crush. He wouldn’t even get aggressive if he was dating Sole. He’s not a hotheaded asshole. Annoyed at best, rude at worst. It’s giving Fifty shades/Twilight/After.

Deacon; You guys know that when Deacon takes a shit, he isn’t dedicating it to Barbara, right? He isn’t dedicating it to his own redemption, or saving synths? He isn’t thinking up a cool lie to make about the shit-taking? When he has a drink of water, he isn’t like, “Barb used to drink water.” or “The U.P Deathclaws drank water” or “I’m gonna say I killed a behemoth with a water bottle!” Deacon has other thoughts and motivations beyond the meme or the sad. I can’t judge too much, because Deacon himself would approve of being thought of like this, but good god. Just let the dude be a dude sometimes. Let him shit in peace.

MacCready; might be because he’s the most solidly written, but very few complaints with most MacCready stuff. Him being a little perverted is in character, he’s 22. However, I have seen people straight up forget Duncan and Lucy. It’s okay, though. So did Bethesda.

Nick; Also usually solid, the most common crime is that aforementioned After Shades of Twilight writing. Nick is not a possessive dude. He’s even less likely than Danse to get aggressive over his partner. Yeah, sure, he’s a cop, but is that really the fantasy you want? Really?

Piper; I have...famously strong opinions on Piper, but good god. Blue this, Blue that, I’m gonna write about this, this’ll look good in my paper, I’m putting this in the news. Oh my God. You’d think Sole was a fucking SMURF with how many writers call them Blue. You’d think Piper dragged her writing press behind her like Sisyphus heaving his boulder along. Same as Deacon and Hancock, SHE DOES OTHER SHIT. People bend over backwards trying to work in the fact she’s a reporter. Same as Cait, the obvious is not interesting.

Preston; fuck the settlement jokes, I hate it when Preston is turned into an UwU soft boy baby cinnamon roll 2 gud 4 dis world UwU sunshine sweetie pie cutie. Whenever someone does this, they don’t actually like Preston. They have no thoughts, no feelings, they just...I don’t know, want to be contrarion to Preston haters? “Imagine not liking Preston, couldn’t be me ;333″ you realize this is racist, right? Like, you know infantilizing black men is racist? Oh my God you don't know this is racist

X6-88; SPEAKING OF FUCKING RACISM. The highest discourse I’ve seen around X6 is calling it ableist to HC him as autistic, but that is NOT the biggest issue with X6 writing. X6-88 is best described as, like, a very expensive, very spoiled cat of a rich, Old Money asshole. You know the Evil Stepmother’s cat in Cinderella? That bitch. That’s X6 in a nutshell. That’s how you write X6. I’m not even going to get into the racist ass portrayals of X6 because fuck is it tiring, just gonna leave you with this; X6 is best when you see his character for the humor and genuinely interesting philosophies in it, and not when you see him as a BDSM hardcore porn big dick sex god dominant daddy who likes spanking.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #x6 discourse makes me so tired #its also Bethesdas fault like with everything else but omg #the coldest takes. yall have the coldest takes with this man

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svttingz · 1 year

Text

Leave her alone.

pairing: Bernard x fem reader

summary: just toy Santa treating you bad

warnings: none

A/N: MY LAST STORY DELETED ( also writing part 2 of this ) i also dont own this gif

last Christmas, your life changed forever.

your dad is Santa Claus.

he made Santa fall off a roof, on accident of course. he put on the coat and delivered the rest of the presents to the children.

there was a certain little elf hat next to the Santa outfit that you tried on. and lets just say. never in your life has something felt so right. it was the same when you met Bernard. the cute head elf that had stolen your heart.

he trained you everyday for the last year so you could become an elf. when one of those lessons led to you going to kiss him on the cheek then him turning his head on accident causing you to kiss him on the lips. you both immediately pulled away, but then you both leaned in again and kissed once again. thats when u guys started seeing each other.

he would visit you everyday after that till you moved to the North Pole to fully commit to being an elf, thats also when your age stopped.

fast forward a year later officially 3 days till Christmas. and there is a new clause. your dad has till Christmas eve to find a wife or you cant be an elf anymore and he wont be Santa anymore.

so you and Bernard have been spending a lot more time with each other since ‘the desantafication process has began’ according to Curtis and so has the delfication. your ears are going back to normal by the day.

so while your dad went out to find a wife, you, Bernard, and Curtis were stuck to deal with toy Santa.

oh did i mention how they made a toy Santa to impersonate Santa while hes gone???

yeah you heard me

“you know this book is very interesting reading, theres a lot of rules right here at the North Pole they're not following” toy Santa says looking at the book

“Thats what ive been saying all along, every since mr elf number one here got all lovey dovey with miss Y/N, things have gotten a little to sloppy” Curtis says

“excuse me?” you and Bernard say at the same time

“yes and sloppiness means mistakes, and mistakes arent a good thing! i think i might need to make some changes around here” Toy Santa says

“what’d you have in mind boss?” Curtis asks

“well let me show you” Toy Santa says as they began to walk away,

“i really hope my dad can find a wife, i dont want to leave here” you say looking at Bernard as you guys were walking behind toy Santa and Curtis.

“me too, i cant lose you” Bernard says while grabbing your hand

“whoa whoa whoa, what is this” Toy Santa says referring to me and Bernard holding hands. “it clearly says here in the handbook, “elves should not have any romantic relationship with humans”

“oh no sir, im an elf” you say with a smile

he glares down at me and bends down to my height, “Y/N was it? you young lady are no elf, all you are is a sad, strange little HUMAN girl who wants to be an elf but will never be one.” he says

“hey. Leave her alone. dont talk to her like that.” Bernard says while getting in front of me

“and you Mr elf number one, need to set an example for these elves that arent following these rules” Toy Santa says turning to Bernard then walking off.

“im sorry about him Y/N that was a really horrible thing he said” Bernard says turning around and rubbing my arms.

all you could think about after Toy Santa’s words were, “hes right you know, technically right now im not an elf. im just a sad strange little human girl.” you say with a sad face

“no hes wrong.” Bernard says, “i dont care what he says, i love you as an elf or no elf. you'll always be my snowbell” he says with a smile.

you smile, “thank you Bernard, i love you too” you say as he leans down to capture your lips with his. you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. when u parted he placed his forehead on yours

“Get a room, lovebirds” Curtis says with a disgusted look on his face

you and Bernard both let out a laugh.

poor Curtis.

#bernard the elf #bernard x reader #bernard the elf x reader #david krumholtz #bernard #the santa clause #fanfic

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pecanwriter · 9 months

Text

The Orc's Lover

Themes: Body worship, affectionate feeder/encourager, fantasy setting, Orc/Elf couple

Words: 2741

“You wanna play the harp to my patrons?” Zaranor asked the elven bard. He looked at his sharp cheekbones and chiselled jaw with dismay. All the poor elves were so scrawny and slim, not a bit of meat on any of them. The bard’s face was bad enough, but his body was equally sad to Zaranor, a thin, almost lithe waist, his stomach almost sunken in, narrow hips and long, slender legs… Zaranor let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t sure his patrons would be interested in elven music, but that way he could at least put some proper food into this poor lad.

“So what brings you to the Orc Country?” He asked, wiping down an ale mug where he stood behind the bar. “I didn’t really fit into the elven society, my parents are scholars, and they didn’t approve of me becoming a travelling bard.” The elven bard said. “I went to the Human Lands, but they’re… peculiar creatures.”

Zaranor hummed in understanding. Humans were, indeed, strange.

“So I came here. I hear Orc Country is a much friendlier place than people at home made me believe.” He smiled at Zaranor and he couldn’t help but think he could be really pretty if he wasn’t so wretchedly thin.

“What’s your name then, elven bard?” “My name is Tarkilon.” he gave a small, smooth bow. No meat on that one, not one bit, Zaranor couldn’t help but note.

“I’m Zaranor.” He poured a big jug of Cream Ale, an Orkish speciality, a honey ale that was mixed with heavy cream into a thick sweet drink full of great nutrition. "Here, drink this. And then, you can entertain my quests."

Tarkilon smiled, smelled the drink uncertainly, took an experimental sip and his eyes widened in surprise.

"This is really good!" He drank it eagerly from that point on, and Zaranor nodded with satisfaction. Maybe he would make this little skinny thing look a little better, at least. He seemed like such a nice young man, it would be a shame if he were wasting away.

Tarkilon’s playing was surprisingly very well received by the Orkish audience, and Zaranor could see why, the elf played absolutely beautifully. But he heard the same things from his patrons that he was thinking himself; it was such a shame to see such a small skinny thing waste away when he clearly had so much talent. The more enthusiastic fans of the music would order snacks and food and cream ale jugs for the artist and he would accept it all graciously. Zaranor watched from behind the bar, nodding in approval.

“I think I had too much ale…” Tarkilon slurred slightly. The bar was already emptied out for the night and the Inn guests disappeared into their rooms, it was only Zaranor finishing his cleaning up and the bard.

Zaranor looked at the skinny thing. He was looking a little better with his face flushed from ale and his previously sunken-in stomach now pushing against his shirt, filled with all the food the patrons were sending him.

“You had just enough.” Zaranor smiled at him. “Come, I will let you a room to stay tonight. He helped the swaying elf to his feet and led him to a room at the back, massaging little circles into his stuffed belly as they walked.

“You’re leaving already?” Zaranor stared at the bard. “I thought you’d want to stay for at least a few days!” “One of the patrons from yesterday has an entertaining band, they travel all around Orc Country playing and entertaining, he invited me to join them! I can travel without having to figure out the routes myself, this is exactly what I was looking for.” He beamed. “Thank you for letting me play here yesterday. And for letting me stay the night. When the band passes this way I’m definitely coming for a jug of that Creamy Ale!” He leaned over the counter and kissed Zaranor on the cheek. With that and his harp slung on his back, the elf was gone.

Zaranor let out a pained sigh, watching as his long skinny legs carried him outside.

“I hope they will at least feed him properly.” He said, patting his own round belly. What was a man without some meat to him, after all?

“Zaranor!”

Zaranor looked up from where he was agonising over the profits and his mouth widened into a smile. It’s been six months since Tarkilon left with the entertaining band and he was looking decidedly better. His face softened a little, his legs and hips were rounding out nicely, filling the legging he had on and there was a little paunch above his belt. Still looking way, way too skinny and weak in Zaranor’s opinion, but it was a step in the right direction. “Welcome back!” He hurried to the bar, pouring a jug of Creamy Ale for the elf. “How is Orc Country treating you?” “It’s been really great! I really love it here, I should’ve left the Elven Lands a lot sooner…” He seemed wistful, absently rubbing the tiny fold of flesh on his belly. Coming back to himself, Tarkilon smiled widely at Zaranor. “I’ve met a lot of nice orcs but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Lost for anything coherent to say, Zaranor just poured him another Creamy Ale and pushed it into the elf’s hand.

“Can I play here tonight?” “I’d be very happy if you did.”

The elf beamed and downed the jug in one long gulp.

Similarly to last time, all his patrons kept sending food and drink Tarkilon’s way all night, and he obligingly accepted it all.

“I think I’m never going to move from this chair.” Tarkilon said, let out a groan as he leaned back, undoing the laces of his legging and letting his now perfectly round, bloated belly free of the lacing. Zaranor observed the roundness with satisfaction. He was starting to look good, Zaranor really hoped the elf’s belly would be this round permanently very soon. For his own good. It wouldn’t do to be this skinny, not in Orc Country.

“Come, elf, I will lend you a room for the night.”

“How’s about…” Tarkilon wrapped his arms around Zaranor’s neck as he was helping him up. He pressed his small, bloated belly into Zaranor’s own soft gut. “How’s about you lent me your bed… With you in it?”

Zaranor squeezed his big green hand between their bodies to massage the elf’s belly. He leaned down to nip at the long, pointy ear as he led the elf to his room.

* “The band is leaving today.” Tarkilon said the next morning, lying next to Zaranor. His belly was sadly deflated and only the little paunch remained. Zaranor could think of little else than preparing all the best Orkish breakfast specialities and feeding them to the elf. He needed some meat on his bones, this just wouldn’t do.

“Stay.” Zaranor said firmly. “Really?” “Stay. Play for my patrons. And I will feed you and love you and make you beautiful and strong.”

Tarkilon laughed.

“So you think I’m too skinny like all the orcs from the band did too?” “Yes. But I will soon remedy that.” He kissed Tarkilon softly, careful not to get his tusks too close to his delicate elven skin. “Let me love you like a proper orc loves their mate.”

Instead of a reply, Tarkilon moved in between Zaranor’s legs, his pale elven mouth soon closing in on it’s target. Zaranor let out a nasty orkish curse and rocked his hips, already thinking of all the foods he was going to feed the elf that was no his. He had to put some meat on his bones, it was improper for a respected orc like himself to have such a skinny little thing in his bed, oh no, it wouldn’t do at all.

“Zaranor, my love, you must order new clothes for me.”

Tarkilon came out from behind the partition where they had their bath, he was only wearing a loin cloth and a tunic that wouldn’t reach past his soft chest.

Zaranor, still splayed in bed, examined his elf appreciatively. It’s been about seven months since Tarkilon decided to stay and he was blossoming beautifully. Although he still wasn’t up to the orkish standards of beauty, he was definitely on the right path. His belly was now not only a little paunch but a fully formed, round belly, starting to sag slightly against his very nicely widening hips. His legs were filling in nicely as well, slowly getting some proper meat on them, from his rounded calves to the thickening tights. His face was looking better and better too, with a much softer jawline and softer cheeks, a small suggestion of a beautiful double chin was starting to form as well.

“I will order you anything you want, my love.” He came up to his lover, placing an appreciative hand against his soft belly and giving it a little shake, marvelling at how it jiggled. Elf skin was much more delicate and softer than orc skin, so their bodies didn’t really shake and jiggle like that and Zaranor found himself completely enamoured by it. “But perhaps I should order them with some room to grow. I need to put some meat on your bones, after all, this is Orc Country.”

“Stop it! Tarkilon laughed, slapping Zaranor’s hand away. “You’re so silly, Zar.” “Do it again.” He demanded.

Tarkilon laughed but obliged. He moved his knees from one side to the other where he laid on the bed with his legs bent. The motion sent his entire body jiggling and rippling and swaying and Zaranor felt like he could watch it forever.

It’s been about two years since his elf came to live with him and he was really filling out nicely. His belly was now big and soft, hanging in front of him proudly, sagging low and almost covering his entire groin. His chest was soft and with a pair of beautiful tits, Zaranor couldn’t help but bite on every single night. There was a ring of soft, doughy flesh starting to develop around Tarkilon’s softening face and the prominent double chin. Although Zaranor loved all of these things about his lover’s body, his favourite were his legs and ass. Since elves had much thinner skin, Tarkilon’s legs and ass looked like they were made of curdled milk with a layer of delicate milky white skin on top. Zaranor loved it, loved touching it, biting it, kissing it. And he loved how it bounced and jiggled and slapped against each other every time his lover took a step.

“Turn around,” Zaranor ordered and looked at his lover as he changed position, his beautiful body jiggling with every move. He marvelled at the wide, ample hips and how Tarkilon’s ass and legs were spread on the bed’s surface, making him look even wider and more beautiful than when he was standing up. He kissed and bit and squeezed the elf’s delicate doughy ass, already thinking that he’d have to make him this wide even when he was standing up. This was Orc Country, you needed some meat on your bones!

Zaranor looked up from the ledger where he was sorting through the Inn’s finances in his small office. He heard a loud crack, and when he looked up he was his beautiful lover bent down with a big crack ripped in his legging, revealing his glorious, curdled milk ass.

“Oh-uh.” Tarkilon said, trying to see the damage but unable to twist around enough to see over his own increased bulk. “I will have to order you some new clothes, my sweet, beautiful elf.” He came from behind his desk to kiss his lover, pulling him close and feeling very satisfied that encompassing him in his arms was starting to be difficult.

Tarkilon was filling out beautifully, Zaranor accomplished his goal of making his hips and ass much wider, along with it grew his beautiful, heavy belly, his soft tits that Zaranor loved to suck on these days. There was a definite roll of fleshy softness around the elf’s neck, moving and squishing his soft face every time he moved his head. Each day Zaranor was finding a new roll of fleshy softness somewhere on his lover’s body, or noticing him getting just a little wider, his belly hanging just a little lower. He beamed with pride every time someone gawked at him with obvious awe or even stared daggers at Zaranor with jealousy. He relished those looks, he wanted everyone in town to know this beautiful, gorgeous creature that could play harp like no other and make Zaranor feel loved like no one ever did was his and only his. All of him, all that gorgeous, jiggly soft flesh and the elf adorned with it. All his.

“I didn’t know elves could be so beautiful!” He heard one of the patrons say to his comrade as they left the Inn at the end of the night after Tarkilon’s concert for the evening came to an end.

Zaranor smiled in self-satisfaction. No other elf was as beautiful as his lover was, he didn’t even doubt it for a second. It’s been almost five years since Tarkilon came to stay with him.

Zaranor looked at where he sat still with the harp in his soft fleshy hands. The elf was simply a vision of perfection. His gorgeous soft body continued to steadily expand over the years, his curdled milk legs and ass were simply a work of art, spreading wide, taking up nearly the entire bench he was sitting on. It was a new one, of steadier wood, the old one couldn’t handle Tarkilon’s beautiful body anymore. His soft, doughy belly hang between his widely spread legs, hanging off the edge of the bench and peeking out from underneath his tunic. The belly was a perfect shelf for Tarkilon to keep his harp on, although it was sinking quite a bit into the doughy, gorgeous flesh.

“Zar?” Tarkilon called over front the bench and Zaranor abandoned the bar, ready to serve his perfect elf in any way he could.

“Will you help me up, please?” He asked, putting the harp away and outstretching his arms, making the soft flesh on them sag and swing from side to side. His beautiful elf couldn’t really get up without his help anymore, his beautiful body too much in the way of his movement. Zaranor was happy that his lover needed him, and relied on him. Being there for this gorgeous creature was all he really wanted to do.

He pulled his lover up, even his orkish strength straining slightly as the incredible, magical body jiggled and wobbled around with the force of standing up.

“I think I had too much ale.” his elf complained, swaying a little.

“Let’s get you to bed, my beloved.” He said softly and led Tarkilon in front of him, following a half step after, at the elf’s pace. He looked with fascination and a growing, warm feeling in his chest as his elf waddled down the corridor to their rooms. They used to live on the top floor, but his beautiful elf didn’t really do stairs these days. Zaranor marvelled, looking at how his elf waddled, how his enormous, soft tights rubbed against each other, both they and the massive hips and ass jiggling and sloshing around with every step. When they made it to their room Tarkilon halted briefly, his ample, gorgeous hips momentarily stuck in the doorframe. Zaranor gave him the gentlest of pushes to get him through and then helped to rearrange his elf’s folds and rolls on the bed so he would be comfortable. He climbed into bed himself and as he ran his hand over the gorgeous, doughy flesh, sinking his fingers deep into it he made a mental note to have a carpenter brought in to widen the door. He couldn’t have his incredible, beautiful lover bruise his perfect hips on the doorframe now, could he?

No, a wider door was needed. Especially when he knew his beautiful elf was only going to get wider.

A little drawing of Tarkilon

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anneangel · 2 months

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Have you noticed that Bilbo was a Hobbit described as:

“(...) bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms” e “panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors”.

And in the end:

There was a great commotion, and people of all sorts, respectable and unrespectable, were thick round the door, and many were going in and out—not even wiping their feet on the mat, as Bilbo noticed with annoyance. If he was surprised, they were more surprised still. He had arrived back in the middle of an auction! (…) would sell by auction the effects of the late Bilbo Baggins, of Bag-End, Underhill, Hobbiton. (…) most of the things had already been sold, for various prices from next to nothing to old songs (as is not unusual at auctions). Bilbo’s cousins the Sackville-Bagginses were, in fact, busy measuring his rooms to see if their own furniture would fit. In short Bilbo was “Presumed Dead”, and not everybody that said so was sorry to find the presumption wrong. (…) The legal bother, indeed, lasted for years. It was quite a long time before Mr. Baggins was in fact admitted to be alive again. The people who had got specially good bargains at the Sale took a deal of convincing; and in the end to save time Bilbo had to buy back quite a lot of his own furniture. (…) Many of his silver spoons mysteriously disappeared and were never accounted for. Personally he suspected the Sackville-Bagginses. On their side they never admitted that the returned Baggins was genuine, and they were not on friendly terms with Bilbo ever after. (…) he was no longer quite respectable. He was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighbourhood to be ‘queer’—except by his nephews and nieces on the Took side, but even they were not encouraged in their friendship by their elders. I am sorry to say he did not mind. (…) many shook their heads and touched their foreheads and said “Poor old Baggins!” and few believed any of his tales.

It must have been a little sad for Bilbo to realize that nobody welcomed him and no one welcomed his return, none any happiness, see, he came back safe and sound, after disappearing for 14 months, and it seemed like everyone preferred him dead, sad to know that most of the hobbits, neighbors and relatives he had, were only interested in his house, possessions, comfort and his money, instead of care with him, his happiness, security and feelings.

And yet he did not become someone as truly reclusive and elusive as seems, he only kept close to those who truly liked him, remained friends with Gandalf, the Dwarves and the Elves, adopted Frodo and taught Sam to read, as well as welcoming Merry and Pippin in Bag End for being Frodo's friends.

It is true that for ever after he remained an elf-friend, and had the honour of dwarves, wizards, and all such folk as ever passed that way (…) He took to writing poetry and visiting the elves (…), he remained very happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien books #book quotes #bilbo my beloved

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tanoraqui · 11 months

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Oooh that is so beautifully put yes yes I love it.

To be honest I think Valar should be pretty happy that Feanor is not devout; imagine his intensity channeled in honest and burning religious fundamentalism. It'd take him a week to start heretical mystery religion and Aule and Nienna would be informed there are whispers they are trying to usurp throne of Arda.

But also, one thing I have been fiddling with wip fics for while is, idea that Feanor is metaphysically, a divorce child of Melkor and Nienna. His fate is place where Melkor's shouts and her keening meet, the melding spot of his cacophony and her elegy, violence and grief within and upon and outside and enacted by. He is vessel through which their influence is unleashed upon Aman, his very birth proof that nowhere can be safe from Marring and grief.

(Within context of Ea-s-Most-Disastrous-And-Covered-Up-Divorce, this means both of them identify with Nerdanel. Nienna is obvious but really, Melkor gets it, when your partner is a stubborn psychological mess swallowed up by their own grief and so obsessed with their ideals and past that can't be fixed that they refuse to be happy and hear you out and just complicates your own and theirs life, poor woman you are so put upon, I have been there with two of them now!)

Ooh, whereas the idea I've been toying with is that Fëanor is solidly a natural...maybe not follower per se but student, agent in the world, of Melkor. He’s TRYING to be an agent not of Melkor-as-we-know-him but rather Melkor-as-he-could-have-been, but…

That Melkor's divine domain is change in a way that cuts through, recombines and builds on all the other Valar's spheres of power; that only because he is, personally, an asshole that this is become discord instead. That it is because Melkor is an asshole bent on evil that change is, in basic human psychology, scary; that difference is intimidating and easily hated; that the grief of what is lost so often supersedes the joy of what is gained, and we are forever looking back and bemoaning that we cannot make this country great again... That the end of Lord of the Rings, in which the Time of Elves is over and this is sad, a grave loss, but never a source of despair because it feels right in a way, as right as the stars fading as the sun rises, and now it is the Time of Men and this too is a good and natural thing, such that overall we feel joy...that this is a total triumph over Melkor-who-is, because it is how every now-terrible change should have been if only he hadn't been a total asshole.

And where does Fëanor fit into this? Fëanor inventor of alphabets, shaper of Light into stone in a way even the Valar didn't imagine, instigator by Oath and allegiance of the Flight of the Noldor and the Three Kinslayings and so many of the great deeds and tales of the First Age and beyond...who didn't live to see most of them? Fëanor is a catalyst in this ongoing tale, in this Great Music. He is flame himself, but mostly in that he is the spark that lights conflagrations.

That's notable not just because it's pivotal to the story of Arda, but because that's weird for an elf. Elves are constantly shown to value stability and timelessness. They wrap their lands in girdles of timeless peace. They pick a good king and keep him for millennia. They never start battles, only react when attacked - except the House of Fëanor and those closest to them.

...mostly in Kinslayings. Because this is Melkor's domain, and he is determined to make change a thing of discord, domination and destruction. But oh, how magnificently the Music might have gone if Fëanor's every word and deed, every moment of being, invited good rather than evil!

As it is, Nienna is always here ease the hurt as best she can. If only proud Fëanor would let her help...

#irleughlivelyatalanteangodfan #the silmarillion #eldar #valar #feanor #melkor #feanor and feanor's kin #analysis

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nihilnovisubsole · 9 months

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i wasn't going to keep cluttering people's dashes up with my ffxiv stream-of-consciousness posts. but after a chance run-in with @arcanistvysoren in the dusk vigil one night, i was encouraged to make more. so, hey! heavensward! that was a lot!

one thing you can always count on final fantasy to do is give you leitmotifs. sad scene? leitmotif. climactic battle? leitmotif. quest accepted? leitmotif. hey, dragonsong is nice. why not?

it's difficult to overstate how habitually this game throws beautiful atmosphere at you and makes it look effortless. i know i keep repeating myself, but it keeps being true. the quiet desolation of riding through the coerthas western highlands at night with a blizzard battering you and fog obscuring the horizon. ough

i was looking forward to royce's role as a self-exiled ishgardian in this part of the story, and i was very much not let down. heavensward spends a lot of time emphasizing what an irreplaceable asset the warrior of light becomes to ishgard, so the bitter taste that she would have experienced during the early coerthas ARR quests rises to a nauseating pitch. oh, now the ishgardian authorities care. now they want her around. now they want to heap praise on her for pulling them out of the fire. when they did nothing to help save her squad five years ago and went damnatio memoriae on her when she vanished. they're lucky she's too heroic to let them burn.

i'm not exactly sure how she works through her feelings by the end. i'll have to think about it. write about it, maybe. we'll see.

the dragon plot is fine. it works! it's cool! it's all very mythic in scale and appropriately tragic. i'm just more drawn to the expansion's mundane side. it's easy for final fantasy to get carried away with itself when it's got aether and primals and multiverses flying around, so we need the periods where we deal with interpersonal conflict to keep it grounded and speak to lived human experience.

i mean, the windows into how ignorant ishgardian citizens are and how deep their religious indoctrination actually goes? that's meaty. a church covering up everything from their archbishop's love child to the history their core theology was founded on? that's the good stuff

god, it's hilarious how much estinien and aymeric were engineered in a lab for fans to fall in love with them. they're elves, they're tall, they have deep voices and piercing eyes and swooshy hair, they're brooding, they're burdened with great and terrible responsibility. estinien is beat-for-beat the "character 1" archetype of otome games: mysterious and mean, but defrosts over his story arc. you have dinner at aymeric's house! the dev team had to know that these fellows were going to have a following and leaned into it.

actually, wait, does aymeric fall into the "responsible authority figure" otome archetype? is haurchefant the "flirty, excitable younger guy" archetype? am i onto something here? pepesilvia.jpg

poor haurchefant ):

speaking of characters, cid is growing on me. i didn't pay much attention to him in ARR, but i like that he continues to play a major role. he's a fun guy to have around. royce draws heavily from cyan garamonde, who's a notorious technophobe, and i wonder whether she inherited some of that character DNA too. you are a good man and i trust you but do not dare augment my lance. more power means more parts to break. cold steel will never fail you

the vault and baelsar's wall are awesome as dungeons, but lol, lmao. there is something to be said for bark trigger volume. filthy rats! [crackling fireball noise] sickness must be purged! [explosion] filthy rats! [griffin sword swing] sloppyyy!! [another explosion] sickness must be purged!

i have finally found a part of the game i dislike: leap of faith. UGHHH. why am i good at every GATE except that one. UGHHH

oh i have THOUGHTS about that duel with raubahn

emmanellain's job is just beach

#ffxiv

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amethysttribble · 7 days

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I'm rereading Everlasting Song in honor of the new chapter update (love it great job!!!) and thing I never noticed before: Do people assume that Maglor and Maedhros are lovers? Like Oberyn/Doran and others? As the explanation for why they are so close/devoted to each other? And, I really should have noticed this earlier, are the boys like well known for being super attractive since they are reborn elves which makes them hot and honorable? (With an approx least honorable elf = most honorable man in westeros metric) Is Varys considering this in his hot talented men who have show no interest in women conspiracy??????? (Curufins cute crush aside)

Thank you so much for this ask! It made me laugh so hard, sorry for the late reply.

Haha, yes; quite a few people think Maedhros Tully and Maglor Sand are lovers. I'm not surprised you didn't notice as it's a joke I play with very quietly, but it's there.

It's kinda a common rumor/salacious bit of gossip that's spread around, especially in Renly and Loras's circles and then also Edmure's circle.

Renly tells everyone that they're together (he has no proof of this), Loras maintains that 'perfect lord and knight Maedhros' hasn't 'realized' but does subconsciously return Maglor's feelings, while poor Mags is being strung along.

Littlefinger is also a hateful little gossip, and he actually refutes the rumor, saying he has a DIRECT line to Maedhros, there's no way he has a lover, he'd KNOW. Maedhros would come to him first if he was looking to dally. No no, he's much too uptight.

Meanwhile, Edmure HATES Maglor, because he has a general beef with singers and he's jealous that this random bastard is stealing his brother's time. He also thinks his brother could do much better, Edmure knows very accomplished knights of similar 'inclinations', what's so special about Maglor, anyway?

But after he finds Maedhros weeping on the floor about Maglor's 'death', he's extremely kind and sympathetic. He's goes to Cat and is like, "Here's the deal, sis, our brother's boytoy is dead and he's devasted as only two men bonded homoerotically can be, it’s a warrior’s bond” and Cat's trying to calculate all that in her head with everything she just learned about Maedhros's 'Fin', and suffice to say the two of them have had QUITE the background conversation about Maedhros's love life.

Oberyn and the Sand Snakes USED to think that Maglor was massively in love with Maedhros. Oberyn has tried to have a few conversations with him about it, to say nothing of his sisters, who were annoying about it, haha. But eventually they all got the hint that Maglor isn't lying, he's serious when he says he loves Maedhros as a brother, it's not like that, and also he's not interested in a relationship with anyone, actually.

This was a hard pill for Oberyn to swallow, lol. I think he's still doing the mental calculus about it, actually, but he's reached the 'if you say so' stage of acceptance, where he doesn't get it, but he's not questioning it.

And yes, the boys are all considered quite tall for Westerosi men (tho they certainly aren't their Elven heights) and pretty damn good looking (tho, again, not in an Elven way - their features have been adjusted. If you were to put portraits of the elf boys and the westeros boys next to each other, there'd be a pretty stark difference, even if it would still be obvious they're the same people). I do think the hotness is scaled, tho.

Celegorm 'the Fair' and Maedhros 'Well-Made' were the hot ones in Valinor, and remain such here (once Celegorm was older and knighted and the two of them were traipsing around the Riverlands together, they must have been a dangerous pair to look at, haha), while the rest of the boys are generally above average. But it's not like they're all a bunch of super models.

But Varys is kinda like ??? about the whole thing, because it is a pattern. I don't think he pays too much attention to the women thing, because his notes look like this-

Maedhros - Gay. Sad.

Maglor - ??? Sneaky. Visits brothels but does not buy. (His spy methods remind Varys of himself, so he doesn't think its weird)

Celegorm - Has the Ned Stark Raised Bastard Trauma, is terrified of conceiving.

Caranthir - Slut (Caranthir is interested in women! As mentioned in his last North to South chapter, he's had a handful of 'friends w/ benefits' in the Red Keep who he's gone to third base with; he was really hoping Arianne would take his 'virginity' lol, since there was no threat to her reputation, but alas. Politics.)

Curufin - Crush on Lady Sansa

Amras and Amrod - Nine Years Old

But they do all still clock as weird, as not one of them does the typical Westerosi man thing of going to brothels or participate in that culture. Not even Caranthir. He has consensual relationships with lower status women with clearly communicated boundaries and expectations. I think he might be the most suspicious one all, actually.

Thanks again for this ask!!

#ask #tribble post #everlasting song

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

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Seeing You Again- Eskel

You can imagine any version of Eskel for this, I think this'll work either way.

The reader lives in Novigrad (which has always struck me as the New York of the Witcher World), and runs into Eskel who doesn't recognize her right away because she look very different from when he last saw her. Read more to find out.

Mentions of prostitution, and sex worker harassment with a side of transphobia (nobody gets hurt though). Enjoy.

It was nighttime in Novigrad. You strolled by the docks, sack of coins in hand from a contract you just completed outside the city. It was a simple job, taking out a couple ekimaras, which was interesting given that vampires usually were solitary and hunted alone. You could've asked for double, but knew it wouldn't be worth the hassle...or harassment for that matter on account that your clients wouldn't believe a woman could take on two ekimaras at the same time.

Even if you were a witcher.

You passed by Crippled Kate's brothel when you saw several drunk men harass a couple of the girls outside. You recognized the girls; one was an elf, the other half-elf, both you considered friends who took you in when you first came to this city and introduced you to their world.

You sigh and shake your head before you approach the angry men, "leave those ladies alone," you warn. "Pfft, these look like ladies to you?" one man slurs, "these is she-elves. Not even she-elves, just elven cocks in frocks. That one there," he points to the half-elf, "tried tricking the poor lad here into thinking it got what he wanted." You breathe in, really containing yourself from slicing these men in half with your sword, "as I said before, leave them alone. Final warning." "What do you care about these freaks?" the other man scoffs before looking you up and down, "unless yous one of them." "I say it is," the first man says in agreement, "nice tits for a lad. You trying to play knight for these freaks? You got a hard on for them?"

You narrow your gaze at these bigoted men and wave your hand, casting the Axii sign on them, "I think you've had way too much to drink," you say in a low tone, "say your sorry, go home, and sleep it off." "Uh, yes, of course," one man says before turning to the elves, "sorry girls, we didn't mean to upset you. Honest mistake, we'll...be going now. Come on, lads."

Once the men left, you turn to half-elf Lana, and elf Anya, "you two okay?" you ask with concern. "We'll be alright now," Anya answers, comforting Lana who had tears in her eyes, "you should've stabbed those brutes through the hearts, maybe slice their heads off while you were at it." "Much as I would've wanted to, we both know who would end up getting in trouble with the soldiers and the Temple Guard," you sigh, "besides what good would it do, more would only take their place." "Three less of them, that's the way I see it," Anya scoffs.

"They didn't hurt you did they?" you ask. "No, not at all," Anya assures, shaking her head, "though Lana here, only thing that's hurt is her heart." "Oh, Lana, what happened?" you ask the half-elf. Lana wiped the tears from her eyes as she answered, "I...I thought he was the one. The young man the others two accused me of 'tricking'. I didn't trick him, he knew who I was." "Let me guess, when his social circle found out, he was too much of a coward to stand up for you," you summarize. "He was kind to me when we were together," Lana continues, "I...I thought he was different. I thought he was my Prince Charming." "Oh, child," Anya shakes her head in sadness, "I've told you before, there's a reason Prince Charming is only a fairy tale, a tale made up by humans no less." "You can't blame her for wanting to find love," you point out to the elf, "isn't that what we all deserve?" "Maybe so," Anya agrees, "but that doesn't mean the rest of the world sees it that way. *sigh* things haven't been getting harder for people like us, in case you haven't noticed."

"Is that why you were here at Crippled Kate's tonight?" you ask, "I though you and Lana were working as dancers at the Rosemary and Thyme." "And we are," Anya nods, "but times haven been tough, we need to make ends meet. You at least have the privilege of passing as human." "I don't pass completely," you say pointing to your eyes, "You have any idea how many people stare at me when they learn of my occupation? Not every day they run into a she-witcher you know." "True enough," Anya agrees. "Let me escort you two back home," you offer, "this part of the city isn't exactly the best place to be in this time of night. Don't want to risk getting mugged." "We appreciate the offer," Anya says, helping Lana to her feet, "but we're not going home just yet. I think Lana here could use a drink at the Green Mermaid, help drown her sorrows." "Well, then let me join you," you say, "I got the coin for all three of us, and I could use a drink myself."

The three of you head to the Green Mermaid for a few rounds, paid for with your money. It was one of a few places in Novigrad where people like you, Anya, and Lana could be yourselves and be together with people who were like you; a safe haven for non-humans who lived on the very edge of the margins compared to other non-humans, and one of the first places you were introduced to when you came to the city to start a new life.

You sipped on your ale, savoring the taste, before downing the contents; it has a been a long day, and you felt this was well deserved.

What Anya had said was true; things had been getting worse, for the non-humans especially. Sure the mages recently were having a time getting harassed by the witch hunters, but non-humans were currently taking the brunt of the persecution; many were being evicted from their homes and losing their livelihoods, forced to go to great lengths to make ends meet and survive. For those who were like Anya or Lana, they had to deal with people like the men from earlier; those two were actually lucky nothing else went beyond verbal harassment, knowing that wasn't the case for many others in this city.

The authorities wouldn't do anything, so you had recently taken it upon yourself to step in where you could. While the Axii sign usually was effective, things would get ugly to the point where you would be forced to take out your sword and defend yourself and those you were protecting.

Yet, you still managed to find time to take up monster hunting contracts so as to have an income for yourself and also use to help out the community.

------------the next day---------------

The following morning you went to the nearest flyer to see if there were anymore monster contracts to take up. You saw one and grab the flyer. It was a contract to flush out a nest of drowners that had taken up residence in the sewers near the bathhouse. You were not a big fan of going into the sewers, too many bad smells for your senses and all, but the reward was big enough, clearly someone wanted to get rid of these monsters badly. Oh well, another day, another monster, another sack of coin.

You jump into the sewers, albeit reluctantly, and use your tracking skills to locate the nest. Strangely enough, there were signs that someone else was down here as well; what was even more strange was how familiar the scent was. It was a scent you couldn't quite figure out, but for some reason it started to bring back memories from your previous life...back in Kaer Morhen.

While crawling through the sewers, you hear the familiar sounds of drowners up ahead, along with the sounds of someone with a sword slashing back and forth against the monster. Sword in your own hand, you rush to the scene.

Once you got there you stop in your tracks when spot who was fighting the drowners. It took a moment, but you knew who it was; he had a few scars more then last you saw him, but it was the same witcher from the School of the Wolf.

"Eskel?" you mumble, to yourself more than anything. You were pulled out of your trance when a drowner came after you. You manage to push it away with Aard sign. Eskel look to you in shock as you stabbed the drowner through the heart and sliced another one's head off. He realized you were a witcher, and though you possessed no medallion, he figured you may come from the School of the Cat as that school tended to be more flexible in taking both boys and girls into the witcher trade. Eskel didn't think much about and went back to fighting the drowners on his end.

"You alright?" you hear Eskel ask you once the monsters were killed off. You turn to him, not sure what to say. He didn't seem to recognize you, though you couldn't quite blame him as you looked completely different from the person he knew from before. "About as well as I can," you decide to answer, "so I guess I'm not the only one who decided to take this contract. You expect me to spit the reward with you?" Eskel smiled a little, "actually I was thinking you take the coin while I go and finish off the rest of the drowners in here." "Very funny," you say.

Eskel tilted his head a bit, like he was examining you. You were feeling a little nervous right now; what if he recognized you? What would he do? What would he say?

"Do...you're a witcher like I am," he say, "what school? The Cat?" "Uh, School of the Wolf actually," you tell him. "Huh," Eskel says, "Didn't think the School of the Wolf took in girls. And where's your medallion?" "...maybe they did take in girls, and you just didn't noticed," you point out.

Eskel took a couple more steps closer to you, like he was trying to figure out if he'd seen you somewhere before, "have we met before? I feel like we've seen each other before, I just can't put my finger on it." "We have," you decide to confess, taking a chance with this man, "Eskel...it's me."

Eskel took another look at you, and his eyes widen in realization, "Wha...you...(your old name)?" "Uh, I actually haven't gone by that name in years now," you tell him, "I'm (y/n) now." Eskel took a few steps back, clearly in shock. You couldn't blame him since you never made contact with him or the other wolves in years, as they all were under the impression you had been dead this whole time.

"That's...that's not possible," Eskel shakes his head in disbelief, "you were dead. I was there, I saw you die." "Well, technically you're not wrong," you shrug, "I know I have a lot to explain, but this may not be the best place to talk." "Yeah, you're right," Eskel agrees, standing up, still feeling shaky in the knees, still getting over the shock that you had been alive this whole time.

--------Seven Cats Inn-----------

Once you and Eskel had collected your reward for the drowners, the two of you went to the inn so as to have a chat over a couple well earned ales.

"So, I guess you want to know why I faked my death," you say as Eskel took a sip of beer. "That's an understatement," Eskel makes a humorless laugh, "yes, I want to know why. Why let us think you were dead?"

"I...it's a really complicated story," you admit. "I got time," Eskel deadpans, "does...does it have to do with this?" he gestures to your new look. "It's mostly that," you admit, "deep down I've always known I was different, even before I came to Kaer Morhen. It was actually the reason my father sent me there in the first place. The day before that he had walked in on me trying my mother's clothes. I can't quite explain it, but when I would wear her dresses it...it just felt right. I think my father sending me to the School of the Wolf was his way of trying to 'fix' me. But even though I was surrounded by boys and doing 'boy' things, it just..." you shake your head, struggling to put words together, but Eskel seemed to get the picture.

"Is that why you were shy around the rest of us?" he asks, making you look at him, "it's just something I remember from our time in Kaer Morhen as children," he admits, "I remembered when it came to bath time, to getting undressed, you always shied away from the rest of us." "Yeah, I remember," you say, "I remember how much I hated those times, how much I hated getting naked in front of other people, how much I hated looking in the mirror when I'd get dressed or undressed. It didn't make things any better when we finally went through the trials, when we had those mutagens put into our bodies." "When I finally went on the Path, I ran into some people here in Novigrad," you continue, "they were like me, and they took me in, introduced to me to their world. I finally found a place where I could be myself, be the person I was meant to be. It hasn't been easy, that much I'll admit; I had to save up a lot of coin to get certain procedures done from this mage in the Bits, but I'm happy, and I have no regrets."

"I'm glad you're happy," Eskel says, "but, I still don't understand. Why? Why have the rest of us think you were dead?" "Eskel-" "We mourned you, (y/n), I mourned you," Eskel continues, "you were one of us. Vesemir was devastated when he found out. He left Kaer Morhen and didn't come back for months. He was fond of you, you know."

"I know," you sigh, "I guess I do have one regret. I'm sorry, Eskel. I had a chance at starting a new life, I wasn't sure if you or the other wolves would understand." "You didn't think to ask?" "Well, would you have understand?" you point out. "...maybe not at first," Eskel admits, "but it wouldn't change the fact that you're still a wolf."

"I am," you agree, "I'm still a witcher, that part of me hasn't changed. I have missed you. You, Geralt, Lambert, Coen, Vesemir, and everyone else that's still there." "Then why not come and see them again?" Eskel asks, "I'm sure they would be excited to see you, especially since you're not dead." "You're not gonna let me live this down are you?" you deadpan, then shake your head, "I can't leave, Eskel. Maybe you haven't noticed, but things have been getting rough in this city, especially for my friends. I have to do what I can to help them out."

"Alright, I understand," Eskel nods, "I'm happy to know you're not dead, (y/n), and that you're getting to be the woman you were meant to. Would it be okay to tell any of the other wolves I run into on the Path about you? I'm sure they'll understand. Though, Lambert might be pissed at first when he finds out you've been alive this whole time, but I'm sure he'll come around to forgive you." "Yeah, that sounds like Lambert," you chuckle a little, "yeah, you can tell them."

"Eskel," you say right as the witcher stands up, "I'm glad we could catch up, that I could finally tell you my truth...and I really did miss you guys. I missed you." "...I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me your truth," Eskel nods before he leaves the inn.

-----------time skip to later that day-----------

You headed back to the Green Mermaid, where you saw Anya drinking alone.

"Mind if I join?" you ask, tossing some coin to the bar keep, "It's on me." "How kind of you," Anya deadpans, handing the ale to you.

"How's Lana doing?" you ask, taking a sip. "She seems better now," Anya admits, "In fact, it seems she's moved on and met someone else." "Oh no," you sigh, fearing the worse. "Oh, I think this one is different," Anya assures, "He's an elf. A tailor to be exact, he works outside the city. I've seen him before, he's frequented this establishment many a time as a matter of fact. Sometimes in dresses, sometimes in doublets." "You think he'll be good to Lana?" you ask. "Only time will tell," Anya merely shrugs, "but I have pretty high hopes with this one."

"Well, I'll hope as well, that girl deserves a happy ending," you say. "As do you," Anya says. "I don't know what you're talking about, Anya." "Oh, come now, (y/n)," Anya insists, "When was the last time you put yourself out there? I know it's not easy, but good gods girl, it seems you've been all work and no play recently. You should go out, at least have yourself a good time with someone."

"Well...I may have met someone recently," you admit, which got the she-elf's attention right away, "Oh? Who is he? Tell me, girl. I want specifics." "Well, it's not really like that," you tell her, "He's...he's someone from my past. A witcher." "Oh?" Anya's eyes widen, "Does...does he know about you?" "Yeah, I told him," you confirm, "Don't worry though, he was accepting. He thought I was dead this whole time, which makes sense since I did fake my death so I could start a new life here. He wanted me to come back to Kaer Morhen to see the other witchers, let them know I'm not actually dead."

"And you'll be going with him?" Anya asks. "No," you shake your head, "I can't leave. There's too much work to do here. He understands." "I can't believe it," Anya sighs. "What, he was understanding," you insist. "No, I mean I can't believe you could be so stupid," Anya elaborates, "I saw that look on your face when you walked in here, (y/n). Now that I know the story, I can see he's clearly someone you deeply care about. Perhaps he was someone you were deeply fond of back then?" "What? Anya, no," you quickly shake your head in denial, "it's not like that! He...We knew each other from since we were wayward youths back in Kaer Morhen. I'm not even sure he would see me that way"

"You don't know unless you find out for yourself" Anya points out, "go to him, (y/n), take the chance, maybe find your happy ending with him if that is your destiny." "I...I can't." "Why not? What's stopping you from going?" "Well, what about you and Lana and everyone else here?" you gesture, "who's going to protect you from your late night sessions at Crippled Kate's or the Rosemary and Thyme? Who's...who's going to stand up for you when the soldier come in and try and rough you up?"

"Well be just fine," Anya assures, placing a hand on your shoulder, "We've made it this far without you, and we'll continue to do so afterwards. We're non-humans, (y/n), we've always found a way to survive." "Oh." "Go to him, (y/n)," Anya insists, "go to him before it's too late."

--------------------------------

It took some time for you track him down, but by the time you had Eskel within eye shot, he was already on horseback right at the very edge of the city. You run as fast as you can.

"Eskel!" you call out, getting the witcher's attention.

"I changed my mind," you tell him, "I know I hurt you and the others when I pretended to die. It's the one thing I've always regretted. But I want to make it right this time. I want to go back to Kaer Morhen, I want to let Vesemir and the rest of my brothers know I'm still alive and well. They need to hear it from me, not from word of mouth from someone else. So...if you'll still have me, I want to go. It'll be nice to see how much the place has changed since last I've been there. Please. Also I would like to get my medallion back."

Eskel looked at you, seeing you were serious about this.

He didn't say anything, but offered his hand to you and lifted you up on his horse. You hold onto him from behind as he guided the horse forward.

Remembering what Anya said, you were extremely aware of intimately close you were to Eskel now, close enough to breathe in his scent and maybe feel the muscles under his tunic.

You feel your face turn hot just from thinking about it, but you quickly push those thoughts out of your mind. You were certain Eskel did not feel that way...maybe.

May consider doing a part 2.

Masterlist

#the witcher #eskel #eskel x reader

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paradife-loft · 1 year

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once again thinking about tyelko&curvo with wolf&raven metaphors <3

#no good things for the poor sad elves

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sotwk · 9 months

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Whag do you think about Lord of The Rings: The rings of power?

Did you watched it? If not, why? If yes, why?

Oooh! A bit of a controversial question, but one that I am happy to finally be asked, so I can give my thoughts and opinions about it. Thank you for the Ask, @estethell!!

My Thoughts on "The Rings of Power"

When I heard a new Tolkien/Middle-earth series was coming out, I was super excited about it. I watched the first two episodes the very evening it came out on Amazon. My excitement was so contagious, I even got my husband (who wouldn't know an elf from a dwarf) to sit down and watch it with me for like 5 whole minutes.

Now, the truth: my initial excitement about the series quickly dropped about four episodes in. The storyline and characterizations just weren't really what I expected (actually, I'm not even sure what my expectations were, except that they were high), and so my interest dwindled in my disappointment.

However, a few weeks later, after all the episodes had been released, I sat back down to finish the series, and my impressions of it improved overall.

I wouldn't say I love Rings of Power, but there are enough things about it that I liked and enjoyed to be able to engage with others who do love it. It's kind of like the folks who didn't like The Hobbit movies, but are able to gush over Lee Pace's Thranduil anyway.

Stuff in Rings of Power that I liked:

Liked BEST: Young Elrond, and the way he was portrayed as such a wise and kind lord by Robert Aramayo (so handsomely elf-y!).

A Close Second: Durin IV and Disa. What a wonderful couple that brought just the right amount of comic relief.

The chance to see Khazad-dum in its glory.

Poppy Proudfellow. We all need a friend like her.

The music/soundtrack, ESPECIALLY the song "This Wandering Day" Poppy sang--I literally cried when she sang it.

Arondir. He was a such sweetheart and I hope he comes back next season.

Adar. The take on orcs being corrupted elves is one I embrace.

Elendil and Isildur. Excellent acting on Lloyd Owen's part, and I liked Maxim Baldry's earnestness.

Halbrand. I'll admit, I wasn't too impressed or happy with the revelation of him as Sauron, but the character alone as it stands was actually very good, and very well portrayed by Charlie Vickers.

Stuff I didn't like so much (so probably don't ask me about them 'cause I prefer not to dwell on critiques):

Short-haired elves. Just not a fan, purely a preference thing.

Galadriel being short. This is petty and minor, but for some reason, even though Morfydd Clark did a fine job, it bugged me to see Galadriel looking UP at mortal men.

Celebrimbor cast as an older man. So sorry, Charles Edwards is a lovely actor, but this was far from what I had in mind for the character.

Eärien. Normally I will give OCs a chance, but I did not like this one. Felt really unnecessary, and the screen time should have been given to Anárion, wherever he might be.

The poor armor design and nerfing of the Numenorean army.

Portrayal of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Again, I expected much more.

The origin story of mithril. Such a strange choice.

WAY, WAAAAAAY too much CGI. Why is everything so shiny??

Overall low/poor production value. But honestly, there is never gonna be another production like Peter Jackson's trilogy. It's sad, but filmmakers just don't do that anymore. I hope someone proves me wrong.

I remain conflicted about the following:

The Haladriel ship. I'm a Celeborn fan (I have some lovely HCs about him and his ties to Thranduil), and I ship Galadriel with him. However, the way Halbrand looks at Galadriel just does something to me, so even though I'm not sold, my mind is open to it as an AU. I blame Charlie Vickers being such a charming rogue.

The Elf-Human love story. Arondir and Bronwynn were sweet and convincing, and I did swoon for them, but... this is just so overdone already. Couldn't we have just featured other kinds of relationships?

The revised origin of Gandalf. I kind of get it, and I appreciate the relationship between him and the Hobbit progenitors... but it's kind of also weird.

Halbrand as Sauron. I plan on withholding judgement until I see where they are going with this in Season 2.

Overall Rating and Conclusion:

62% fresh SotWK Tomato Rating

I choose to just be HAPPY and GRATEFUL that we have another cinematic adaptation to the Tolkien fandom, however flawed it might be.

Definitely looking forward to Season 2 and I will definitely watch it.

Positive vibes ONLY, please! I am happy to publicly post and gush with others about the good points of RoP. But I will not have public bashing of things other fans might love and enjoy. I am very against crapping on the things others love, even if I might hate them myself.

If anyone wants to discuss the things I dislike about RoP, we can do it via DM or private Asks.

Everyone has a right to enjoy whatever they want in this show; let's just all respect each others' differences in tastes and opinions! <3

#sotwk answers #rings of power #tolkien #middle earth #rop #rings of power review

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10pm-cafe-lattes · 10 months

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rayllum + taylor swift

in honour of both speak now taylor's version and tdp s5 and that cute asf rayllum moment in the trailer, a list of lyrics from 4 speak now songs that match rayllum in my mind:

mine

made for them. the whole song. 'do you remember we were sitting there by the water / you put your arm around me for the first time' midnight oasis from season three. The Scene.

'i was a flight risk with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts' rayla. that's all. season four and also poor girl's family situation.

'you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter' runaan's not really careless but like i'm JUST SAYING

'you are the best thing that's ever been mine' speaks for itself. 'what we had was something special' 'you are the best thing i ever had' RAYLAAAAAA

ok i could do a whole essay on that song by itself but like

go listen it's Them

2. sparks fly

'drop everything now, keep me in the pouring rain / kiss me on the sidewalk, take away my pain' ahem. if this isn't rayla to callum. i don't know what is. he dropped everything to help her return zym to xadia, they had that heartfelt moment in the rain with the lightning strike-

'get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down' self explanatory.

'gimme something that'll haunt me when you're not around' CALLUM. SEASON FOUR. NEED I SAY MORE?

'i'm on my guard with the rest of the world / but with you, i know it's no good' season four. callum asks /rayla/ for help with the whole 'if i'm possessed' thing and rayla lets down her guard to talk to him while he's asleep.

3. long live

'you held your head like a hero / on a history book page' 'it was the end of a decade / but the start of an age' end of season three. the way they hold hands and look so proud and zubeia looks at them like 'god damn how long was i asleep'

'long live the walls we crashed through / all the kingdom lights shine just for me and you' they crashed through the boundaries between humans and elves, katolis and xadia, and duren and katolis came through for them in the s3 battle.

'long live all the mountains we moved / i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you' not dragons, but like, they definitely had a very amazing journey and rAYLA SAYS HE WAS THE BEST THING IN HER LIFE OKAY I'M NOT OVER IT

'bring on all the pretenders, one day / we will be remembered' them against the world... they'll be remembered as the human mage and the last dragonguard... my heart...

4. back to december

or, rayla @ callum after season 4 i'm right and you know it. i don't even need to explain these lyrics.

'so this is me swallowing my pride / standing in front of you saying i'm sorry for that night' episode two.

'it turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you / wishing i'd realised what i had when you were mine'

'when your birthday passed and i didn't call' (eyes callum)

okay this one just makes me sad

i couldn't think of a 5th... if you can add it. pls. look i was listening to speak now taylor's version over and over again and then i realised it was Them

#there's probably a niche of people who will like this #right #am i delusional #look it's them #it's not just me right #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp rayla #tdp callum #speak now #tdp s4 #rayllum #tdp rayllum

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calekinnieplus · 7 months

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Would you look at that? Another update? So soon? Well, it's to be expected after WHAT I've read today hahah... 3 ½ hours of losing my mind, definitely worth an update! Reached chapter 1177 thanks to the desperation to reach a safe spot!

God, there's so much to talk about. I have to restrain myself from just endlessly talking about how much I love Klein Moretti rn. Like. So much. I will definitely be sprinkling my love for him in this post. A lot. I'll do that a lot.

OK, FOR A THOROUGH DISCUSSION, I'll pick up the chat from the ending of volume 5. Which means I'll talk about like... 20 chapters? Hm. They definitely felt more than 20 in number.

Amon kidnapped Klein after Klein successfully destroyed King George III's ritual, so he was exhausted and spent. Perfect opportunity for Amon, ngl.

The subsequent time spent together was full of ups and downs. Amon gave Klein hope that was barely in his reach until BOOM the reveal that it wasn't an avatar, but the actual true body! Man, wasn't that stressful.

That also came with the realization that Amon can't bear the risk of stealing Klein's destiny just like that. Win! For now...

We reach the destination that Amon was going for (in the Forsaken Land of the Gods, btw!! God, what a crazy place...) and there, ANOTHER motherfucking bomb gets left at our door.

Fucking Chernobyl. Fucking- it's Earth! It's always been Earth!

(That was spoiled in a partial manner to me. Like, I saw someone mention "Chernobyl" in relation to LOTM and I was like "wait what? No way- AH, NO THINKING ABOUT IT. IT'S SPOILERS" but inevitably I connected some dots.

Like, I distinctly remember how Roselle attempted to bring forth the industrial revolution, but when he searched for oil and such fuels, he was unsuccessful. Which made me think about the Chernobyl thing and wonder if the previous humans used it all up and eventually perished, but then another civilization rose and that's the present.

But uh. I didn't know about the fact that the ancestors of vampires and elves are ALSO humans?? Like wow. Incredible)

Paired with that comes the realization that Klein can't go home. Technically, he IS home. Just... not in his era :') AGH I cried. ESPECIALLY when he conjured the silhouettes of people dear to him that have long since perished. IT WAS SO SAD WBSJJDJD Man...

After that dreadful discovery, Klein doesn't let that stop his desire to escape Amon, implementing Another escape attempt, helped by the Evernight Goddess. Gosh, his escape attempts were so creative! And the interactions between him and Amon were so funny after them too lmao

Anyway, after Chernobyl, Klein digested the Scholar of Yore potion successfully AND escaped to Sefirah Castle after committing suicide (what an ODD way to escape).

And next, we have Klein thinking of ways to get back on his feet AND analyze his experiences. Which brings us to the NEXT big thing!

The third "transmigrator" is in fact the Evernight Goddess!

(Ok, I got fully spoiled on that. Booooooo...)

Still! She's taking such good care of Klein <33 what a lovely lady <33

During the Tarot Club, he put in motion his plans: collecting what he needs for the Miracle Invoker potion and strengthening the Tarot Club.

And thanks to the combined effort of Pallez, Derrick and himself of course, he successfully revived in the City of Silver and ran away! Yay!

That's where I am right now. But Man, the road to getting here was emotional.

Poor Klein... hunted from so many directions, no home to return to, friends and family to protect.

And let's not ignore the fact that Klein successfully escaped Amon!!! I mean, SURE, Amon was "playing" with him in a way. But that doesn't mean he wasn't taking Klein seriously, he just had a different goal than killing Klein, which was to take ownership of Sefirah Castle.

Klein is so resourceful, so determined, so intelligent. I adore himmm! Ahhhh and sometimes, he makes me sad, but he keeps going and that's just... hah... admirable.

Praise the Fool! Can't wait to read more, but definitely not tonight. Finally reached a point where I can close the book with a light heart, I'm not risking starting another stressful arc hahahah...

#vertigone rambles #lotm #lord of the mysteries #binging lotm #lotm spoilers #lotm volume 6

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animatorweirdo · 22 days

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Return To Home

You finally leave for home, and show your excitement to Maglor after finding him along the way.

Warnings: leaving, packed with a lot of water, mentions of heat stroke, Saeros being snarky as hell, insulting each other, reader gets pissed off the final time, throwing and spilling wine on someone, an excited reader with Maglor, Maglor being soft and leaving for home.

Chapter 22

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After telling your friends about the new medicine, they congratulated you and then helped you get started on leaving Doriath and returning home. You got a bag to carry the medicine recipe, the seed bags, and the letters you decided to take with you. You got your old clothes back, which were surprisingly clean and stitched up from all the holes you received from the vampires.

Luthien helped you find someone who could guide you out of Doriath and take you to the nearest town, and now the two of you were walking down the corridors. Your friends made sure to pack your bag with water so you would have enough to tolerate the sun during your journey.

“Now I’m sad to see you go. You had been so fun to have around,” Luthien said.

“All good things must come to an end eventually. But thank you, you have been fun to have around as well,” You smiled.

“And besides, it doesn’t have to be like we won’t hear a word from each other ever again. We can send letters to each other. Just don’t let your father find out that I live among the Noldor since he seems to have a huge issue with them,” you said.

She chuckled.

“Will do?” she said.

You came to one of Menegroth’s main entrances.

“Are you sure you have enough water for the journey? Nelle was adamant that you have enough to avoid getting a heatstroke,” Luthien questioned.

“I think two flasks of water will be enough. It’s only a day’s journey to reach Himring,” you answered, patting the water flasks inside your bag.

“Well, how about I get you a third one just to be sure?” she suggested.

“I’m gonna get you the third one. Wait here.” she left before you could protest.

You obediently waited for her while glancing at some passing elves.

“Seems like you’re finally leaving,” a familiar voice stated.

You prevented yourself from groaning audibly and turned toward the last person you wanted to see before you left. Saeros stood there with a rather smug expression.

“Yep. My wounds have healed and my good caregiver deemed my head was good enough to travel on my own without an issue, so it’s time for me to go home,” you answered.

Saeros scoffed.

“Finally. It was getting tiresome to see your face around and constantly nagging on the princess,” he remarked.

You frowned. “I see it as accepting her requests to go on walks. You, on the other hand, seem to love nagging me even though I’m trying to mind my own business,” you stated.

“Save your tongue. Why would I waste my time on you?” he asked.

“Well, aren’t you doing it right now?” you questioned.

“Like… don’t you have anything better to do? I've been kindly trying to stay out of your way, mind my own business, but then you come around and try to bite me on my ass,” you said, slowly losing your patience.

“Are you desperate for drama or are you just that insufferable that you just need to show your human-hating face?” you asked.

“Insult me once more and I will take the issue to King Thingol,” he snapped at you.

“Of course, you would, then what? He’s gonna throw me into a dungeon because your pretty little feelings got hurt? You know, maybe that’s why you don’t have a ring or something that indicates you are married. The poor lady has to be a saint to marry someone like you,” you stated, looking him up and down.

He looked more pissed off.

"For a human, you sure have a sharp tongue. Didn't your family teach you any manners? Is that why they live separately instead of in the same place as you? They couldn’t bear the shame of having a daughter like you?" he questioned, making you frown.

“Careful… don’t bring my family into this,” you warned him.

“Or what? Are you gonna attack me? Did your little feelings get hurt?” he taunted.

“I pity your father. I could never imagine myself having a daughter so unmannered and wild as you,” he added.

“Oh, I then pray that you never end up with a daughter. I couldn’t imagine having a condescending asshole like you as a father,” you remarked.

He seemed prepared to snap at you, but before you two could say anything else. Luthien appeared with a third water flask.

“(Name) here you go. This should be enough to last your journey and under the sun,” she handed you the flask.

“Thanks. you really didn't have to, but thank you,” you said gratefully.

“Oh, lord Saeros. I didn’t see you there. I’m just sending my friend off on her journey,” she smiled.

“Continue then. I think I’m done here,” Saeros said turning around.

“Please do, and let us never meet again,” you said. “Be careful when you run your mouth and hurt your sensitive feelings. They might end up killing you next time,”

“Certainly… though I cannot imagine someone so pathetic that they can’t handle mere sunlight,” he said with his back turned to you, but you heard him loud and clear.

It was like a blood vessel popped in your head. You turned toward the nearest table where you saw a wine goblet filled with wine. You grabbed it and then tossed it at Saeros, hitting him on the head and spilling wine all over him.

A shriek echoed through the corridor and a pair of footsteps ran away.

Maglor was walking around the town you had mentioned where you would stop before making your way to Himring. The town was bustling with people and travelers, but despite having waited for a while, there was no sight of you. Had he come too early, or had he possibly come to the wrong town?

His horse snorted at him, having become impatient walking around all day.

Maglor felt a sense of worry. The morning already passed. Where on earth could you be? Did something happen to you?

He stopped for a moment, contemplating whether he should make the trip to Doriath, even though it might be risky for him. He and his kin were not welcome there since the day King Thingol banned Quenya all over Beleriand.

You suddenly stopped when you saw him standing there. You recognized his horse, which made you frown curiously.

“Maglor?” you said and he turned toward you.

Maglor felt relief release from his chest when he saw you.

“It is you! What are you doing here? I said in my letter that I was gonna come to Himring after passing this town.” you questioned as you walked over to him.

“I thought it would be faster if I came to get you myself. I was also worried you might end up meeting unpleasant creatures on your way to Himring so I might have also come for your protection,” Maglor explained.

“That’s really sweet of you. Thought I’m certain I would have been just fine on my own, “ you said as you petted his horse.

“But! Guess what,” you rummaged through your back and grabbed the medicine recipe.

“I finally got the medicine. Melian figured out a concoction that would allow me to be curse-free for three months,” you explained with a grin.

“Can you imagine that, three whole ass months! I don’t even have to take extra medicines during that,” you smiled.

“That’s… wonderful,” Maglor smiled in return.

“And what’s even better. Melian gave me the necessary flower seeds and ingredients so I could grow them myself, meaning I don’t have to worry about my storage,” you added.

“This accidental visit to Doriath has been the best thing to happen to me, minus the night when I turned and ended up fighting vampires,” you stated. “But I’m alright now. The wounds are barely even noticeable,” you said while Maglor listened with a soft smile.

“My stay there was not too bad. I met my two friends, made a new one and it was alright. There was this one elf I didn’t get along. He was such a bitch and I didn’t even do anything but exist to piss him off. I believe that guy had a whole tree stuck up his ass,” you uttered.

“And he might also be the reason why I kinda had to leave early from there,” you said and Maglor frowned.

“Why? What happened?” he asked.

“When I was leaving, he said something that kinda pissed me off, and then I might have thrown a goblet full of wine at him, hitting his head and getting wine all over him for the second time,” you explained with an embarrassed smile.

Maglor progressed with what you told him before holding in a snort. The thought of some stuck-up sindar lord getting wine all over him made him crack and laugh loudly.

“It’s not funny! I could have gotten into real trouble if I didn’t leave,” you said scoldingly.

“I know…” Maglor giggled.

“Then stop laughing!” you said then he looked at you, smiling wholeheartedly. You then ended up cracking into laughter as well.

“Anyway, I’m actually really glad that you came,” you said.

“I’m glad to see you too…” Maglor said back.

“Shall we get going? Going through the mountains is not pleasant at night?” he said.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you said as you two started walking through the town.

“You know, maybe I should learn to ride a horse, especially if I end up somewhere distant again, but the last time I rode something was a pony when I was five,” you started. “I could arrange someone to help you learn if you like. Or I could teach you myself,” Maglor answered.

“That would be lovely, but wouldn’t have anything better to do than waste your time on a mortal like me?” you asked and he chuckled.

“You are never a waste of time to me,” he said as you journeyed back to Himring together.

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